Mom

Yesterday I was with my mother at dinner time at WMP.  The staff have her with a couple of women now that are so enjoyably sweet, particularly one of them.  I learned yesterday that she is 93.  Her brother comes to visits her weekly who is 94.  He drives himself.  Now that might not be all true.  The minds of many of the residents aren't what they use to be.  Every once in a while during yesterday's meal this sweet lady would announce an observation about her surroundings.  If you stay open you can have quite a good time listening to what the residents say.  One woman was thinking that no one was bringing her meal and she was being ignored that she was "goin' to call the police."  It is hilarious once you get past the sadness of the place.  You have to keep your sense of humor.  Back to our dinner party.....So our 93 year old makes this observation "how wonderful it is to see all these young people helping these old people eat.  I never was that kind."  I said that she helped feed her children.  "Oh yea, sure I fed my own, but I never went around to restaurants and helped other people."  

Urban Chickens

A couple, three weeks ago I obsessed on a prop for a test shoot and before I knew it I had driven a hour and a half to buy chickens. I thought I'd return them , but I didn't want to do that drive again.   I now have a use for the dog house my beloved, Murphy, wanted nothing to do with.  Three times I've moved that doghouse trying to make good use of a bad idea.  The chickens seem to be liking it just fine.  And here is where it will stay.   

I have always wanted chickens.  As a kid I had several chickens - pink ones, green ones, purple ones.  They just never made it past the stage where all the dye had grown out of their feathers.  Stories of doomed Easter animal are plentiful in my family.   One year we had a drowning in the toilet.  The chick was getting big enough to fly out of his box.  And I naively kept him in the bathroom.  I found him face down in green water.  One I literally loved to death.  I carried the chicken everywhere I went and finally rolled over on him while napping.  He lasted a day.   The only one that got nearly out of his Easter dye and into his big chicken feathers was gobbled up by my dog, Attila, in one stealth slurp.  

The chickens I have now are about 3 months old.  I have a red rooster, a black and white speckled rooster and a black hen with a necklace of brown tipped feathers.  I am keeping them in my defunct garden plot.  I brought them home to acclimate in my defunct greenhouse.  Next year those two things will be as they should be and my hen should be laying her eggs.

I have been getting my education on raising them from a host of internet sources.  I was amazed that there is even blogs on Urban Chickens.  One is here at Urban Chicken Underground .

Tweeting?

Well, I am a Twitter now.  And if you are interested you can go here to follow.  I've got much more to do now.  Am I creating more work for myself?

Omnicom"s New Payment Terms

For any of you Advertising Photographers you might want to take the time to read the latest in PDN here about the new payment terms with some of the biggest agencies.  This is yet another way the economy changes are playing out in our lives.  There is something we can do.  Act right and act appropriately.   ASMP statement here.

  

Competition

I like to think I am not competitive, but once when I shared that feeling with a friend she glanced over at her boyfriend with a smirk and smugly laughed.  Well anyway, I have embraced the identity and now I am methodically paying the dues for competitions this year.  My reps have been pushing me to do this for years.  One I recently entered is the PDN Faces Contest.  If you are a portrait photographer, go for it.  I have learned something that has taken this hard head to finally accept is you have to pay your dues for recognition.  What that dues is is up to you, but it is necessary.  Things rarely fall in your lap.  One must "dig their ditch".  Recognition and the need for or necessity of it will be a topic another day.

The Center-(formally known as the Santa Fe Center for Photography)

2009 Project Competition winners announced here. And singular image winners here. I am looking forward to seeing the artist statements and imagery of the Projects.  I hope to be a part of a review one day.  Alas, not this year.  Try, try again.  Congratulations to all the winners.

Cc at the Monkey Grass

The Seventh Seal-Ingmar Bergman

I can't remember why I queued this film but last night I watched Ingmar Bergman's "The Seventh Seal."  I guess it was to begin my study of Ingmar's artistic lighting and dramatic cuts.  Or it might have intrigued me because it is a film dealing with death.  Quote that has shaken me spoken by the distraught knight Antonius Block during his confession to death.... "We have made an idol of our fear and called it God."

Alice in Wonderland

Is Faith Possible?

What's it all for?  I listen to "Fresh Air" whenever I have the time, but I am a bit shaken by the last episode.  Terry Gross interviewed Bart Ehrman this week.  His new book "Jesus Interrupted" was discussed.  Without going into too much detail, Bart Ehrman is a bible scholar  who was once an evangelic Christian now turned agnostic.  All of this is discussed here.  I am not shaken by the contradictions of the bible or that we are not sure who is the true author of the books.  It is one of the books of the New Testament that has scared me.  It is in the book of St. Matthew where Jesus is mocked, in shock and frightened of death while hanging on the cross that has saddened me.  I like the books of St. Luke and the others where Jesus embraces death and doesn't question his belief.  It was also Bart Ehrman's summary in the interview that left me somewhat empty today.  "Is Faith Possible?"  

Congruent

Some words just repeat themselves in my head over and over until I just have to say them out loud.  This morning "congruent" is the one.  My mind is so weird.  It does things without my consent, one of which is the mantra of a word.  I also find myself reading things, anything, along the highway while driving, standing in the checkout lane, riding the elevator.  The thing can be as simple as "the license for the operation of the elevator is in the Management Office."  What the kicker is, I'll read it over and over.  Anyway I am having one of those mornings and "congruent" is spinning around in my head like a pair of jeans in a clothes dryer. 

I don't know what set this off this morning but the word "congruent" is quite fitting.  For the past few years, 2 or 3, I have been working on becoming more congruent in all aspects of my life.  Easier said than done.  Contradiction is a word I'd use to describe myself in the past.  Even though some may say I contradict myself, I like to think now I am just changing my mind or having a bad day. 

 

So what is more congruent in my life, specifically?  I truly believe in myself now.  I don't just say it.  I feel it now.  Yes I know I have blogged about how I have lost sight of my worthiness in the world.  Today and just today,  I see it really as a behavioral relapse.  Deep down and without false modesty, I truly believe in myself.  

On Turning 50 (not me yet)

What is age?  It meant so much when I was young, but with each year I am surprised with the idea of time being relative.  I am thankful of growing older.  I am embracing what aging means.  Who gives a s--t what the outer appearances are and who decided what beauty is anyway?   

 I am guilty of appreciating youth.  It is fun and easy as a photographer to photograph the smooth, dewy complexion of the young.  What is it about our society that is driven by youth, pop, new?  Oh, how I do know now that my youth was wasted on my youth.  My life becomes more deeply meaningful with each passing year.  And here it is, that worn out saying, "oh if I only knew then what I know now."  I didn't want to say it , but there it is, I did.  I want to start a movement for growing older and being beautiful.  Remember "Black is Beautiful."  Well, I want all to join in on an alliance for "Aging is Awesome."  (and please ignore how I titled this post.  I was setting my age back at 5.)  

Ash Wednesday

I'm back in the boat.  Even though I need routine, I resist.  I've returned from the Alps and slowed down enough from a miraculous deluge of work that came in after my return from Europe.  So I am here to blog once again.  

It is Ash Wednesday and for those who aren't Catholic or unfamiliar with the meaning, it is the first day of Lent.  You won't know what that is either, I guess.  Well anyway, lets just say it signifies the anticipation of spring for me and the observance of Jesus's final days on earth. I think the 40 days of Lent is a symbol of Jesus's 40 days in the desert too.  Many good Catholics repent, fast, contemplate their existence and offer themselves in humble service during this period.  There will be a Mass or prayer service for those observing Catholics and Ashes will be distributed upon the forehead.  "From ashes we come to ashes we return."  Kind of a scary thing for a young girl growing up Catholic.  It just dawned on me how much the Catholic faith drives home the death thing.  No wonder I am so preoccupied with dying.  I was exposed to the grotesque, mangled and bloody way too early.  I remember being mesmerized by the religious paintings of Caravaggio.  In particular, the crucifixion of  Christ.  If you've never seen this painting look here.  I'd torture myself with these images. My mother had these art books laying around the house and I'd spend hours testing my courage.  I'd jump over the pages with the scary paintings and then slowly, like I was sneaking up on it, I'd turn back to them peeking over the edge of the page into the dark, shadowy mangled body of Christ hanging on the cross.  I guess this is where I might have developed my morbid sense of humor too.

Today I will participate.  I want to shoot the observants and the ceremony for my show and maybe I need a little touch of humility myself.  One can never have enough.

Greg Miller, a fellow Nashvillian and a Guggenheim Fellow has a series on Ash Wednesday here.  I had forgotten how big the Catholic population of NYC was.  

Mont Blanc

Gone Fishin'

Maybe I will have a chance to post images while I'm away.  

Sally Mann: What Remains

Last night I watched  What Remains:  The Life and Work of Sally Mann.  I am always reluctant to meet the artist whose work I love in fear I'll not like them personally.  I braved it with this documentary.  I have a deep respect and compassion for this person.  She is humble, honest and kind.  I got the sense that even though she is a driven artist she is a wife and mother first.  I highly recommend people to see this film.  I will have to admit I was not interested in her later series of images but after having seen this I have a deeper appreciation for it.  It is a film that has educated me more about the art world and how we all struggle with the same fears no matter what level of the social/professional rung we're we have achieved.  Her courage to allow filming of her rejection from Pace/MacGill and her allowing the documentary to show her fears of becoming passe in the art world was healing for me.  Any artist struggling with fears of rejection and the like will benefit from this heart warming insight into this artist's life.  

Also her series What Remains brings to light for me how fascinated I am with death.  Her philosophy behind the series is worth exploring and facing.  After all, none of us gets out of here alive. 

The F Blog

I have images at F-Blog. Here is the link.  These are images from my upcoming show to be exhibited this summer at the East Gallery at the Parthenon.  (no, not the one in Greece)

Erin, Tennessee in the Summer

The Bitter Photographer

I came across a post today at a blog I frequent left by The Bitter Photographer and had to go check him out.  Wow.  I have to say it was so refreshing.  He is blogging about things so many of us are afraid to say out loud or we share only in the safety of our inner circles.  Of course he blogs anonymously.  Why not!  Who cares who he is.  The point is he is saying things that most of us photogs think- maybe the well balanced, spiritual giants don't think this way.  I know I am working on staying positive but sometimes I just got to let it out.  One of the post was particularly hilarious (all of them are hilarious).  It was about Kwaku Alston and his similarities to Jay Silverman.  Why I find this particularly funny is people rave about this photographer's ability.  Yes, he is good, but he has taken some pretty ordinary photos, just like us all.  So why do people rave about his work as if it was fabulous and worthy of adoration.  Not long ago I had the privilege of meeting with a particular photo rep turned photo consultant who took a considerable amount of time oohing and ahhing over KA.   At that time I had no idea who he was and I was like...."what is this all about?"  I felt like I was in the Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale "The Emperor's New Suit."  The Bitter Photographer is probably not a blog I'll go to everyday, and well he isn't really posting anymore,  but somedays I will have to check in to see if there is someone out there seeing that the Emperors is in his underwear.

Stop Motion Video

You've got to check this out over at A Photo Editor Blog.  It is so much fun and it is worth the 2 or 3 minutes of your life.(here)