April 10, 2010.
Perils of Hiking in Colorado:
- get eaten by a bear
- rumble with a cougar
- whack head on a rock
- encounter a branch that has fallen across the path at forehead height; whack head on it because I'm not watching where I'm going
- fall off a cliff because I'm not watching where I'm going
- get foot stuck in a rock crevice, thus unable to escape from bears and cougars
- get struck by lightning
- be stalked by a pack of hungry wolves looking for dinner
- freeze to death
- starve to death
- eat the wrong berries and have hallucinations about one-eyed badgers and undead zombie chipmunks
December 19, 2009.
A friend has suggested that I make an updated entry in my blog. He's right. I've been lazy. So let’s talk about Christmas. I only just put up my tree yesterday, and Christmas is next week. But I don’t want to begin celebrating Christmas at Thanksgiving, or even the day after… if what we mean by celebrating Christmas is so-called Black Friday. How awful. I don’t want to think about it for so long that by the time it’s here I’m sick of thinking about it. I don’t know, but I don’t think anyone wants to start so early. It’s forced upon us by the machine that is our commercial economy. So I have this idea, born out of an awareness of time moving by at an ever increasing pace. I have all that I need. I can’t think of one thing to ask for at Christmastime. Matter of fact, I feel this need to start giving things away. I’m thinking of my great-grandmother. She was always giving things away to people. Trinkets, dolls, books, little things. Because she was very old and knew instinctively that she wouldn’t need them for much longer. I had no awareness of this at the time. I just appreciated the little statuettes and figurines she gave to me. Now I am no old woman mind you, not for a long time…but these little objects remind me. They’re important to me. Because she gave them to me. So I have a proposition for this Christmas. I want to have a white elephant gift exchange. Many people use this idea as sort of a gag gift exchange, giving worthless and silly gifts to each other. But that’s not what I’m talking about. A white elephant is a possession we have, that may or may not have monetary value, or maybe has a value that is disproportionate to its usefulness. I have many white elephants. I look at them and think about how much someone else might enjoy having them, or using them, or appreciating them. So I thought it might be fun to base a gift exchange on this idea. I’ve not presented this idea to my family because they’ll probably just think I’m being cheap. But every year we all give each other gifts and I can’t even remember what I gave anyone else and I can’t remember what I received. I suppose the greatest challenge here then is to try not to give someone back a gift they gave you two years ago. :) So I will sit by my tree this week, and think about all the lovely people I’ve met and I will think about my family and will pray and ask for the most important gift, for me anyway, which is simply time. Have a peaceful and happy Christmas... October 15, 2008.
I studied photography at the Art Institute of Houston. Not so glamorous as perhaps Rhode Island School of Design I admit, but Rhode Island School of Design is located in Rhode Island, and well, I lived with my family in Houston. So we make the best of what we get. Anyway I'm greatly indebted to the Art Institute. No really...I mean indebted. As in lots and lots of money. Oh well. I was fortunate to have attended while they still had professors who emphasized the art in commercial art. Erik Moore, Margo Reece, Jim Estes. With the advent of digital photography the Art Institute has since discontinued their traditional photography program. I feel abandoned. No more darkrooms. The smell of electronics has taken the place of Dektol and Fixer. No more waiting in suspense, standing there in front of the developing trays, eyes focused on the paper, tipping the tray back, then forward, watching the image appear in the dim surreal light as in a vision, apprehension leaving, being replaced by relief and an increasing joy as you witness what you thought would happen, what you hoped would happen, appear before your eyes, in its most perfect silver chemistry.
October 6, 2008.
I have very much relied upon serendipity in my photographic experience. While it is important to possess skill and technical expertise, to plan for your photography, to think about time of day and sun position and iso settings and what kind of film to use, or what settings to use for your digital camera. You know, all those previsualization and zone system skills and techniques you learn in school, and I do that. Sometimes. But sometimes it’s just as crucial to be always open for that serendipitous moment. That face you saw on the bus this morning that you can’t seem to shake. So intriguing, so interesting, full of some story or another. And now there’s this nagging feeling you have that you should have taken his portrait. All you had to do was ask. He could have said no. But he could just as easily have said yes. Now the chance is gone. So I have endeavored to give myself over to those moments of spontaneous serendipity, moments of chance meetings, glances, feelings and intuition, seeing but not seeing, that happen when you least expect them.
September 28, 2008.
At first glance I do not like the number 47 at all. It’s an embodiment of my two least favorite numbers, 4 and 7, with their sharp edges and lack of contour. But more importantly the number 47 is a prime number, which carries a certain amount of suspicion in my opinion. Lately however, I’ve realized the virtue of prime numbers. They are solid and stable and sure of themselves. They are not team players, but rather independent and free spirited. Unconventional. They do not like to cooperate with the other numbers in allowing themselves to be divided into tidy little groups of 3, 4 or 5. They’re renegades. Unique and different and special. I’ll have to say that today my favorite number is 47.
September 20, 2008.
Photography has always been good for me in many ways, but one way in particular. A camera in my hand gave me some mystical power over my introversion and fear of people. It was a barrier, both physical and not, between those I saw and photographed, and me, and it was true that they would respect that barrier and no harm would come to me. So I would be safe. As long as I had the camera.
August 16, 2008.
One of the selling points of many digital cameras is how quiet they are. How quietly the shutter mechanism operates. But I happen to like the sound my film camera makes when I release the shutter. Click…zzzz…click. I have a motor drive on the camera so the sound is even more pronounced and distinctive. It lets you know that you’ve taken a picture. You’ve done everything you were supposed to do with its settings and film and lenses, and you composed the photograph, and then … click…zzz…click. It’s a happy and solid and satisfying sound, for me and my camera both.
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