Could Be Worse

I'm back from NYC after a beautiful two weeks. This was the first visit to New York where I really could see myself living there. I have no idea what I would do. Certainly photography would change for me and I might even look in a new direction. Realistically, I don't have the desire or ability to move right now. But, I do love that city and the personality that seems to seep out from every stop on the subway. It is hard to get over the faces. The trains allow for time to just look. This is likely the reason I love the Subway so much. Living in Texas, one takes for granted the idea of interpersonal connections, instead, driving from point to point in a self-absorbed box (literally.) The unique thing about NYC is the utter unavoidable and sometimes intense proximity to strangers as well as diversity. People have it wrong when they say New Yorkers are angry and rude. I find people there to be some of the most open minded I have met. They just live fast. It is understandable.

On a technical note, these images were all shot with the iPhone. Don't be alarmed. I am certainly not expressing myself through new artistic inspiration. I don't even look at the iPhone as a serious photographic piece of equipment (yet.) I do think that it is capable of producing some fun images in an easy and discreet fashion - there is no shutter sound and people usually assume I am simply looking at my phone. I do like that.

One more thing, I have done little to no retouching on these photos. They are cropped and toned to look like a Holga in the iPhone by an application called CameraBag. I like that too.

Gone Fishin...

I will be in NYC through October 15.

Have a good two weeks!

The Old Ball Game

Now I'm a Rockies fan. A Colorado Rockies fan. I went to several games their opening season. That was 1993. They were terrible. In fact, they were terrible until last season when they went to the World Series only to be destroyed by the Red Sox. I think they are pretty much terrible again this season.

I always enjoyed playing baseball. I was terrible too. Perhaps that is why the game never meant much to me. It was always about the experience. The time of year was perfect to be outside. I remember getting Taco Bell from mom every third inning. I remember buying Big League Chew and not liking it at all. I remember the batting cages with dad. Two tokens for 25 pitches. He would tell me to bunt the first ten...then swing away. I would hit maybe 10 balls. In all my seasons I hit one home run and made All-Stars one year (the year my dad was Coach.)

My dad would take me to Rockies Games. Depending on the ticket, my hopes for catching a foul ball would be high. We would wait for autographs and buy foot-long hot dogs. He would make fun of me for putting ketchup on the dog because in New York that would never happen. Around the fourth inning I would get ice cream, dippin dots, another hot dog, or a soda. The rest of the game would be relaxing. We wouldn't even talk much. Just sit and watch the game. I never did catch a ball.

Ike Evacuees

I debated about going to the coast to cover Hurricane Ike. In the end, the decision was easy. I had no disaster experience. I had no truck. I had no connections. And possibly most important, I had no secured assignment.

The day before Ike hit evacuees started rolling into Dallas. I decided to head down to the Dallas Convention Center where 1,450 cots were positioned with health and food stations. I arrived a little after 11AM and already the place was busy. With good reason the media was not allowed inside. After speaking with the Red Cross media liaison, I was reminded that these people had just been through a traumatic experience. Considering I had no assignment, I was more than OK with their position. After all, there really was no reason for the media to get involved.

For a good half-hour I watched as families shuffled about with their lives stuffed into plastic bags. I talked with a few people, mostly from Bay Town, about what they left behind.

Things were relatively calm and I decided to shoot a few Polaroids. It is amazing how open people can be in the middle of a disaster.

I hope things turn out for them.

Music and Ford

I never really liked country music. Let me take that back. I don't like country music when it is overdone. I photographed a Toby Keith concert last week and I must say that I have never seen something so over the top and frankly pathetic in my life.

The guy is sponsored by Ford. Fine. But did they have to make a movie staring a truck while co-staring the musician to be presented before the show? Did they have to shoot 50,000 dollar sized ads out of a canon to start the show? Did they have to put a 20 foot Ford sign IN FRONT of the drummer? I usually don't care about musicians selling out...but come on.

I also think Toby takes steroids. His arms are a little too big, while his stomach is as well. I wonder if his ego gets upset when the girls scream louder for the truck then him.

Now I know this picture doesn't match my complaints. It is just the only Polaroid to come out from the show. So deal with it.

Just Because

During the DNC I escaped those crazy Dems only to find the crazy GOP in Golden.

This college republican was preparing for a "Dunk the Democrat" game. It really was as awkward as this photo looks.

DNC Polaroid

The Democratic National Convention was a crazy week. I covered several assignments for various publications in three countries. I also worked on a new multimedia project which looked into several perspectives of different anarchists and activists demonstrating at the convention. Please take a look at the project on my website here. It was a lot of shooting and a lot of editing. I think it turned out pretty good though.

I wasn't able to get inside the convention as much as I had hoped despite getting credentials at the last second. I was just too busy working with the activists and my other commitments. The one night I did go in I spent most of my time looking for portraits to shoot with my polaroid. I only stayed inside for an hour.

The biggest protest of the convention in Denver was put on by the Iraq Veterans Against the War. It was a nice march in which veterans showed their dislike of the war by marching in full uniform to the Pepsi Center outside the convention. The event drew two or three thousand people.

The funny people, fanatic attitudes, and crazy circus that is politics is overwhelming. It is only intensified during conventions, protests, and election seasons. Once in a while it is good to get this perspective first hand.

My digital images will come soon.

Summer Sky

It's not only the smell and the open sky that make Boulder such a nice place. It's the ability to take a walk at night and encounter an animal larger than myself. To be able to walk in the rain while at the same time watching shooting stars fly by. It's about not hearing traffic and electricity.

It's amazing and it never gets old.

The Waiting Game

Sometimes you just find yourself watching. Not really thinking or composing, just watching. It is amazing how different moments can work together. A new face can match a past gesture or a small change of position can correct an off balanced moment. Perhaps it takes a solitary object to make moments meet. Here people were looking for their plane departure times on a monitor. I think the gestures between people match pretty well. I don't think this is because their surroundings were the same, but rather their sense of urgency was the same. Even while movements were different there was a similar feeling of anxiousness throughout.

Cherries

It is Thursday.
The water steams. I see the final crystals from the plastic bottle containing my instant coffee pour into a cup.
"Would you like room for milk?"
"Yes," I respond. I always do. "Cream and sugar, please."
"Oh sorry. We are out of milk."
"Oh. Well...just an extra spoonful of sugar should do the trick."
As I leave, chattering sounds regarding politics and global warming flow from recently depleted ceramic mugs of coffee painted with Chinese designs. A smile grows as I am rewarded with my decision to get my drink in a paper cup...to-go.
I notice my right shoe has faded slightly more than my left.
My car starts. A left, a right, another right and two more lefts. I pull into the second to last parking spot.
"Three bags of the mulch marked '30 percent off' please." I ask seconds before realizing the young man wearing a Home Depot shirt didn't in fact work at the Home Depot.
"Um, I don't work here," he smuggly responds while not actually looking in my direction.
"But you're wearing a Home Depot shirt," I mock trying to imitate his smart-ass manner.
"Dude. Heard of second hand?"
I suppose his name wasn't actually Shawn either. I turn around and walk away, not fast but not exactly slow. I think of all the wittier responses that could have been.
At the stoplight, the radio host annoys me with another pledge drive interruption. "I'd rather listen to traffic," I complain to myself as I roll down the window and firmly press the off button. Two lefts, a right, and two more lefts. I pull in. I'm out of change so I risk a ticket from the meter-maid.
I see Paul walking toward me on the other side of the street. I don't really want to talk, but I figure it isn't worth the hassle. I am hot and I am tired. I cross the street.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Got work today?" he asks.
No is my answer.
"Hmmm."
"I did pick some cherries," I respond with a selfish smile. Happy that I have something unique to say, my smile grows and I cross my arms with a certain cockiness.
"Wow. For a pie? I love those sour cherries," Paul inquires much to my surprise.
"No. I prefer them dried," I snap back. It's true. I always hated pies. I think it is the crust I don't like. I do like dried goods. They last longer.
"No way. Pies are much better. And take more care with preparation."
I try to hide my eagerness to leave and instead look at my feet, uncross my arms, and step on a bug. All cockiness has evaporated.
"Well I have a thousand more cherries. So maybe tomorrow." I am trying to avoid an obvious and painful debate. I regret my unique statement.
I make an bad excuse about going to a fake appointment I wish I did have in reality.
At home I look at my cherries. They are almost dried. Looking smaller and less appealing than I had hoped, I knew I should have made a pie.