...where are you...

yes. hello. I've been...all over the place. Idaho, Florida, California, Hawaii. I've driven back and forth across Montana a few times. While I've been everywhere else, I've been incredibly absent from this space. I spend so much of my time in this virtual world and sometimes the fresh air and sun on my face feels oh so good. I took an extended vacation. Yesterday for the first time in a very long time I had a printing session. I decided that I needed to touch and feel my photos. So in a flurry of paper and ink I printed a ton of images and tacked them to my office walls in corresponding groups. For as little work as that was, I'm not sure why I don't do it more often. It feels productive. I often tell students to surround themselves with their work yet I don't do it enough. Do as I say...but now do as I do. what else have I been doing? playing. switching back and forth between my diana camera and my 5d. Each time, I switch I get that new toy feeling which is so awesome. what I've liked--or loved in the past few months.

• birds are fascinating. I didn't photograph them as I was assisting a workshop in South Florida and had to attend to students but watching them was fantastic.
• San Francisco and a fish eye lenses are best friends. Ohhh so much fun!
• I would move to maui. I might be addicted to surfing-yeah, I went twice but it has my soul.
• I still love my breathing underwater project which I was able to work on in maui.
• lighting storms in eastern montana.
• I love junk. yup. rusty, corroded, exploding seat-stuffing, sun bleached cars are still some of my favorite things to photograph. I'm going to have to figure out what that says about me.
• Will has taken charge of my 20D...this makes road trips much easier on me because he's into it. very fun to photograph together.

in the spirit of travel...

I love...

I'm all about process these days and I love this video.

ahh...art day

There are days where everything falls into place to create. Saturday was one of those days. I've always been filled with ideas but very rarely let myself execute the ideas. To be honest, I realize just how much trial and error there is in art and I over schedule myself too often to give it a good go. Not today (okay Saturday)...maybe not from here on. My great ideas only live so long inside my mind. They need to breath, work out, expand...I will let myself exercise my ideas, I will let myself exercise my ideas, I will let myself exercise my ideas...(200 times on the chalkboard).... It was a great experimenting day. The gel medium hasn't quite worked out the way I hoped. Its dry but I think it made the ink in my photos bleed. I used a non-coated paper so that might be the problem. I'm still pretty intrigued by the gel but I have some kinks to work out. On the other hand I love the wax. It's hard to get it perfectly flat but the ski waxing iron has been a big help (no holes in the bottom). I made two different test pieces today. The first is the bird panel. I haven't added the words but I like the look so far. Then I did a small test with a couple different Diana images. Anyway. It was fun doing and documenting. the panels. Gel medium....maybe too thick. diana images and wax after the first coat of wax

screaming into pillows.

When I was younger I used to channel excess energy, either good or bad, by screaming into a pillow. It seemed the best way to let off steam. I could scream as loud and long as I wanted and not worry about being too loud and crazy or upsetting my mom. It was perhaps the most fantastic thing I taught myself to do. Somewhere in the span of growing up I forgot those pillow moments. I replaced down filled rectangles with friends who would listen when I'm sad or upset. My pure excitement and joy was channeled into other things such as laughter or words that more effectively expressed my feelings. Today, amid a moment of frustration and slight panic, as result of life claustrophobia, I remembered the pillow. Even the thought of screaming until my lungs ran out of air made me feel better. Then, I put a one sentence, nondescript statement, out into the world via twitter, "There are just some frustrations that aren't worth it. Right?" I'm not even sure what I meant and yet it made me feel better. As my fingers typed the words, the frustration seeped into the keys, onto the screen and out into an unknown world. Relief. A new method of copping? A way to forcefully eject the emotion, through it back to where it came from. Perhaps just a band aid. I still may go and scream into my pillow just for kicks.

poetry.

I've been researching poetry lately. Basically this means that I read poems when I can, and study the what, the who, the why. I've been paying attention to the words in a way I never have before because of my interest in combining my words with my images. This morning as I sat down to read from an anthology I was struck by just how beautiful a small glimpse into a person's life can be--even the most mundane moments. There is something to be said for the slow down. This seems to be a reoccurring phrase in my life. In a world of a million miles per hour, a million frames per second, giving someone an opportunity to stop and appreciate one detailed moment is more then important, it is imperative. Is it possible that our memories will fade more rapidly because we are constantly inundated with more, faster? Maybe. Who can say? I suppose it makes me that much more compelled to create a space for these moments.

the tangled strand of images.

I have a bit of a back log of blog entries. My constant awareness of my inability to spell makes me write all entries in word first. Depending on my energy level—okay sheer laziness makes it difficult sometimes to highlight my words, copy and paste them into the blog. My Las Vegas entry however was written when I was conserving money since the hotel charged 15.00 for Internet access. That town is just unbelievable. Today instead of joining Will for a crusty day of snowboarding I decided to stay at home and get some work done. House work, work on my books, thank you notes, processing images, etc. I started to work in Pikto, on my 2008 book, and as I was waiting for downloads I decided to work on untangling my photo garland I made for Christmas. As I took it off the tree the thin, delicate, thread that held the images together inevitably tangled. Its been sitting on my guest room bed now for weeks waiting for a little attention. The multi-tasker that I am decided that this was a perfect mid-download task to take on. The first few tangles were relatively loose and easy to figure out but as I reached the end the knots became smaller, tighter and more complicated. I physically changed my positions around this mess several times in hopes that the new angle would help. Still a mess. It suddenly struck me that this mess of images was quite a tangible metaphor for my whole approach to my art. I made the strand of images in a burst of creativity. I printed and strung them all together at once in a fit of determination and focus. As it hung on my Christmas tree I had plans for this strand. Life after Christmas was going to be just as eventful for this linear collage. Then as Christmas passed, I cleaned up, took down the garland and piled it in a heap. Historically, this is where many of my ideas and art stay, a semi-forgotten mess on an unused bed. This is why I am particularly struck by my determination to resurrect this little mess. There has clearly been a shift in my attitude towards my art. The voice that previously told me to leave it, forget it, it’s not worth spending the time, has been over powered by a new voice. This voice confirms the importance of my work, if only to myself. It has to start somewhere. It’s amazing that I’ve spent so many years in a state of self-doubt, side lining my talents because I couldn’t believe in them. It’s still easy to say but hard to believe sometimes. One day at a time. One step at a time. One thought at a time. Resurrecting one little mess--no, one work of art at a time.

nerd report.

My life straddles two worlds: The technical and the artistic. The first consists of hard facts and numbers, a constant puzzle of information that seems to lead me to the second world. The more artistic world is where I want to be…it is where I want to live but I’m coming to realize that that I need that puzzle of information to allow me to exist there. This is an interesting relationship, I’ve really only discovered the connection recently—perhaps only just today. The two have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. When we got our first VCR, I set it up. I was seven. I’d never really used a VCR. It just made sense; I found it to be an intuitive invention. In fourth grade I realized how powerful my words could be when I wrote an essay for a Veterans Day contest and won. Of course it took many more years, heart ache and loss of innocence to really understand my love of words. These events made me look back and recognize where it all began. I was so innocent. These things happened in my life and rather than knowing or understanding what they said about, how they shaped me, it simply was and I continued with the day to day.

Today was the day I realized the connection between the two the technical and artistic. My focus has moved between them fluidly, but as if they were strangers on a sidewalk each going the opposite direction. Only at one moment are they side by side. They are on parallel paths but seemingly run opposite directions. For the past six months I have gained a deeper appreciation for art in my life. I’ve entered a conversation with my art and I’ve really enjoyed it. I’ve enjoyed the process more then ever before. I’ve recognized the importance.

Today as I stood in the convention hall of the consumer electronics show talking about the technical aspects of cameras and photography with each curious passerby, I realized that I need one to support the other. My love of the technical isn't running in the opposite direction of my art. In fact the two are arm-in-arm. In my mind there was an epic struggle between the two and they would never be able to co exist. Really, the struggle was just another road block to stop my own creativity. Ahhh, the old you are your own worst enemy factor.