More Trash

A couple of months ago I did some macro shots of flower petals when they fell from the vase they were in. The post of those images are somewhere in the archives entitled "Flower Trash." Since then, occasionally a combination of dead flowers, bits of vegetable or fruit debris cross paths in the kitchen before their disposal, coalescing into a flash of visual rapture. At that point, life as it was moving on stops, the Canon G10 is grabbed and the choreography begins....Perhaps this kind of information is damning to the perception I am at all sane, but I'm beyond caring at this point in my life....and no, I don't live with a bunch of cats.

The Poet & The Prisoner

A couple of months ago, my friend, a poet, suggested I take a class being given at the local art center that promised a finished video in 7 weeks......so I went. Ed, my friend and I teamed up, since the class was asked to pair off to work together on what would be an interview of some sort as the basis of their film. Joanna Catherine Scott is a remarkable novelist and poet who lives in Chapel Hill. Both Ed and I agreed she would be a wonderful interview, especially since her involvement with a prisoner on death row created a wonderful story. We struggled through the tech work involved with editing, and since finishing, I've pretty much forgotten what I might have learned, but think that the subject of this video is well worth the 7 minutes of time needed to watch it.

Bin There, Done That

It had been awhile since I couldn't line up my schedule with the recycling pick-up schedule, so the other day, I dutifully loaded up the car with the paper trash and headed out to deal with it. After dropping some magazines into the glossy magazine bin, I noticed how interesting it was to look through the opposite slot of the mostly empty container....apparently it doesn't take much to catch my interest...it's a slow lifestyle here. Hanging with the scene for a moment revealed a little world of it's own... It had been awhile since I could line up my schedule with the recycling pick-up schedule, so the other day, I dutifully loaded up the car with the paper trash and headed out to deal with it. After dropping some magazines into the glossy magazine bin, I noticed how interesting it was to look through the opposite slot of the mostly empty container....apparently it doesn't take much to catch my interest...it's a slow lifestyle here. It was really neat in there....a little world of it's own. The ever trusty G9 camera and I spent some time capturing the feeling of the reflected sunlight and atmosphere created within the rusting structure.



It felt to me like I had stumbled upon an artist's installation. A simple joke almost...placing this piece of artwork into an environment of it's own kind...amidst recycling bins for "mixed paper," "brown glass," etc.

OR: Maybe I can claim these photos as being the visual documentation of it being my own installation.


I hearby elevate into its new status as an ART INSTALLATION, this common dumpster, located at the Recycling Center, behind University Mall, Chapel Hill, NC. Entitled "Glossy Magazines," it was conceived and documented on April 8, about 1pm.

So be it.

More from the previous post

Last night the photo file upload gizmo was messed up and only the last photo would stay on the server....it was late, so I gave up trying to redo it again, hoping "this time it might work." Naaa, it didn't.

Today it's working, and since paying with some of my life source to those damn ticks while making images, the least I could do for my own piece of mind is post a few more from that day. Also, the chicken wings Kenny made were incredible. The pork loin was amazing, as I mentioned, but far less photogenic...

When following after photos might not be worth it.

A couple of weeks ago when my friend Kenny decided to have a bar-b-que at his new digs I noticed the back yard was a treasure trove of stuff his housemate relegated to being strewn helter- skelter. While an amazingly good smelling pork loin was cooking on the charcoal grill, I headed down off the deck to make images among the plethora of textures, colors and shapes laying about on the ground. What I didn't know until the next day was that there were also ticks out there in the yard....and I am a magnet for them....omg.

A few days later, after plucking these nasty things off my legs, and feet, still itching like hell, I went off for a scheduled trip in NYC. Not more than a day later of walking around there, my right foot was swelling up and one of the places where I'd removed a tick began to look like something biblical...along the lines of the plague of boils. I finally gave in and spent Saturday night waiting to see an attending doctor in a Manhattan ER. Not fun.

North Carolina has more ticks than I'm willing to deal with to go off shooting in or near the woods here again, at least until I get whatever that evil smelling stuff is that wards off pestilence.

Night Again

Last evening while leaving the Common House of a co-housing community in Carrborro, where I was meeting with photographer friends, I notice a large dark yellow wagon to the side of the door, looking quite interesting in it's setting of fence, houses and darkness behind. I mentioned to my host that I was going to stay around and photograph the scene, but had to go to my car, parked outside the walkways, to get a tripod. It was rather late, and I spent a quiet 15 or so minutes shooting the wagon. I wasn't all that excited about the results in the camera viewer but thought something might look better larger....turns out, they sucked.

Lately, I've not been so drawn to shooting at night, and this less than satisfying experience with the wagon solidified the notion I was done shooting at night, at least in the way I've been at it for the last 3 years.

The walk back to my car was very sweet; the night was quiet, still and damp from the Seattle type weather we've been experiencing lately here in our part of NC. When I got to this area, my awareness heightened and soared....I sensed a soft coalescence of air, space and some unidentifiable quality that drew me to stay and photograph.

The night still calls me.

Flower Trash

In a vase where the roses died, there were some live filler flowers that lingered for many days longer. I don't know the name of what they were. At the time of their demise, petals, leaves and stamens fell on the counter in a lovely arrangement.

It was evening and I didn't have anything much pressing to do, so I got the camera and eventually, after shooting some straight compositions using the ugly overhead kitchen lighting, grabbed the only flashlight handy and began again. The low batteries created a soft addition of shapes and shadows, making everything much more intimate and dramatic.

I really like when situations seem to create themselves as I go about my daily life. For the last year or so, almost each day I shoot at least a frame or more as I move through my day and night. The Canon G10 is always at ready.....like a gunslinger always has his pistol on his hip. It's a weird analogy, perhaps, but I've discovered that sometimes it's like that...the constant practicing...the quick draw when it comes to instantaneous people shots that happen when I'm out and about, sitting in a cafe, on the road, wherever. Then there's the other practicing, which is more like this flower trash situation....the inanimate stuff of life that shows up, or makes itself known if you remember to keep your mind quiet, your eyes new and alert. That becomes what I think of as "sketching". These kinds of studies are fun, playful, and often quite satisfying.
 
These kinds of images may not directly inform my "serious" work but they consistently go the distance for me, filling my heart with the joy of wandering in the boundless realm of creativity.