@trenthead

Tag: Daybook

  • February 27, 2016

    As I finished the last entry two days ago, I grabbed my iPad and got into the shower. Started the hot water and a film, Marshland. Started shaving.

    Then a text appeared on the screen – “Call me it’s urgent.”

    Immediate reaction – frustration.

    Another text appeared from a second person – “They want you and I to go to Hurricane now! Please call X or me!”

    We were soon on the road down to photograph a food bank outside of Short Creek.

    Since we didn’t know how sensitive the situation would be for photographs I went in with just the Sony RX-100. It turned out to be a great decision, from an artistic standpoint as well as its ability as a small camera to not raise concerns from anyone.

    Beyond that it was invigorating to photograph with a small, silent camera with a viewfinder showing the scene in black and white. I find myself working the light and the moments. The black and white images were beautiful, and it was a shame to create color versions for the main client.

    I need to remember this moment, as photographing with this one small camera for that hour or so was such a good experience. When the next version comes out, I’ll have to upgrade.

    As for the people, who are more important than the camera, they were all great. I saw a lot of people I had met before and made some new friends as well. There were some hesitations and some people who did not want to be photographed. For what I thought was the best shot, I got permission to use the shot but not to use names.

    It was a nice situation – the best for me, really – where I am invited and accepted into a situation and I can just work quietly, unnoticed, finding angles and moments.

    .:.

    We drove home that night, arriving late being the penalty but having our own beds the advantage.

    .:.

    One thing about this trip. When the federal raids resulting in the arrest of Lyle Jeffs and nearly a dozen others happened the other day, there was a need to decide how to react. I was in the middle of covering the basketball tournament, but on the phone I could hear a lot of doubt that there would be anything worth getting if we went.

    That skepticism could be applied to every single assignment. We never know what we’re going to get. That’s why you go.

    They decided not to send me, and you know, I can see the reasoning. It’s possible that law enforcement had already left Short Creek by the time they were even talking about me going down, and I wouldn’t arrive for five hours or so later. So part of my reaction is this impotence to do anything – we missed a big story here, at least the photo side of it.

    They said part of the decision was that the top leaders would be in court in SLC the next day. But it’s federal court, so no cameras inside. And then another photographer was assigned to the courtroom, leaving me to hang out at home.

    At a certain point, just wanting things to be done the right way is not enough. You have to take action.

    .:.

    I had nothing Wednesday, the court stuff was over, so I went over to the basketball tournament to back up another photographer. Shot three games, got some fun photos. I’m really stretching in how I shoot basketball, resulting in some cool moments.

    One of my philosophies has been to shoot very tight, often too tight. This results in a high failure rate, with a large number of frames being completely useless. But once in a while everything clicks into place and I have an image that no one else has.

    The other philosophy is big data. I shoot thousands of frames. I’ve written before about people who insist that shooting less frames is somehow a purer form of the art. But in an action situation, the human mind is not fast enough to react to chaotically changing situations. Like when I’m playing with my dog, the dog gets his mouth to target moments before I can react to change its position or pull away. Sports photography is the same.

    So I expose thousands of frames at every game, most of them completely useless and thrown away. But I’m increasing the odds of capturing the unusual moments that everyone else misses by simply capturing every moment.

    I’m also keep the lens on players longer after the plays, catching more reaction and emotion.

    I’ve been using absurdly long lenses for basketball, like 400mm and 600mm. Normally you’d use a 300mm lens. But since the far end of the court results in so few usable images, it is ripe for taking more chances with an ultra-tight lens.

    On the close end, I stick to the 70-200, which is the one essential sports lens. I try to shoot tighter than others would and, while the competition locks in with mostly vertical photos, I shoot almost everything horizontal. This gets me a different look and often results in a better composition that the horizontal would have. I crop as needed, many times to a square or vertical.

    And some games I shoot both ends with the 70-200, which allows me to have the camera on the game at every moment, instead of missing things while switching between two bodies.

    I’m about to photograph Utah vs. Arizona basketball, and plan on two cameras – 70-200 and 400mm lenses, with a bias to using one camera (the 70-200) to ensure I don’t miss any action in transition. The 400mm will give me the reach I need for tight faces, coaches, etc. Space at the Huntsman Center is tight, so I’m planning on arriving two hours early and, since Arizona is ranked higher, securing a spot photographing Arizona for the first half and Utah in the second.

  • February 25, 2016

    One obvious thing is that I’m not writing enough.

    I’m too busy moping, feeling isolated even as I work to isolate myself.

    .:.

    A couple people from the neighborhood came over and asked why we weren’t so involved in the neighborhood anymore. My son and I told them, and a couple days later the neighborhood council called to set up a meeting the next day. So I guess word travels fast in the neighborhood.

    What we told them, what I told them is that it’s become very difficult for us to be associated when the neighborhood has become such a focal point of social conservatism. And when the flag of religious freedom seems to be more of a justification of using the same flagpole to beat down others than anything else.

    One of the guys was at least listening and the other guy was pretty bowled over. It was a polite conversation but it was obvious that something large had happened.

    What my son told them is how disturbed he was at the sharp increase in calls to the suicide hotlines after the neighborhood’s policy regarding people in same-sex marriages (and their children).

    One of the two hadn’t heard of the policy, but the other had.

    There’s this big message that you should pray for the confirmation that the policy is correct and inspired. That message has – no, that’s someone else’s story to tell.

    I’m reminded of sitting through a Sunday School lesson on Abraham obeying the commandment to kill his only son, a lesson where my only thought was, “why are we studying this?” If I was commanded to kill an innocent, it’s not happening and I’ll gladly suffer any next-life consequences.

    One of the two said he was disappointed that people with our opinions weren’t at the neighborhood meetings to voice our opinions. But after years of experience, my feeling is that such opinions are almost always “corrected” by older fundamentalists who feel they have more authority. Let’s face it, you’ll never go wrong expressing a fundamentalist/conservative opinion at a neighborhood meeting. But go the other way and some dinosaur someone will make sure to “correct you.”

    One of the two also said that just today in the neighborhood meeting someone brought up equality in genders and a comment was made by a dinosaur, “And now they’re asking for equal pay, too.”

    The fact that the teacher replied with, “And they should get it!” doesn’t really cure the discomfort that sitting in that meeting, hearing such statements made, brings.

    A while back I missed a neighborhood meeting where the teacher was advocating bland dress and bland haircuts, saying anything stylish was prideful behavior. It boggles my mind. And it always has.

    The neighborhood. Wow.

    One important thing about the course we have taken for our family regarding the neighborhood – it’s a very sad thing.

  • January 30, 2016

    Yesterday I had a profound experience. I was the lucky one chosen to photograph the ceremony where a new Justice on the Utah Supreme Court was sworn in.

    I left the event feeling an overwhelming aura of positivity. My goal now is to build on that feeling and carry it with me.

    The speakers at the event were smart, and funny. And even those whose politics are called into question seemed to leave those things at the door. This was a celebration of great accomplishments, sacrifice in search of excellence, work ethic, goodness.

    The good words that were being said about the new Justice were the kinds of things you would normally only hear at a funeral.

    And it was so uplifting to be in the room.

    Of course I kept contrasting to my own field, my own situation, and my own feelings. It’s been over a decade since

    I need to find, or build, a space like this uplifting ceremony. Yeah, a space, not a one-time ceremony, where people are respected, their talents acknowledged, and positivity reigns.

    And where there is no love given, no love is returned.

    .:.

    It’s easy to start blaming myself for not stepping up to the plate and trying to fix everything. As if it’s not enough to do my job at a high level, that I have to step in and fix every problem that’s brought to my attention.

    .:.

    Was it about five years ago that we took the local SPJ contest digital?

    So many things look so different when held up to yesterday’s ceremony. Maybe the ceremony was the exception in human life. Even if so, it should be the model we strive for.

    I think back to all the work I did for a local group, and all the knowledge and experience and lessons learned that came from the experience. And the nearly complete silence when it came time for gratitude.

    The group is going in a different direction now, and I wish them the best. And yet, there is a lot of sorrow in the complete lack of not only gratitude, but leaving behind the knowledge base that five years of the project built up.

    Good luck starting from scratch without a single question asked. It’s a shame that things changed. When I started with the group, their was such a welcoming, loving atmosphere. But the group’s membership changed and the attitudes became different, exemplified by the number of board members who were taking home honorary awards (especially the one given to someone for an accomplishment they had specifically opposed and stonewalled for a full year!).

    I tell myself that I write this stuff down so I’ll remember it. Maybe it’s more base and vain than that. Maybe I’m smarting from a lack of attention and gratitude.

    .:.

    I’ve had three co-workers get married without even telling me (sometimes not telling anyone in the department).

    Before I would think, that’s strange, why didn’t they tell me?

    My thought now that it’s happened again is, I must be doing someting wrong.

    From what I understand, they didn’t tell anyone, but still – we make things about ourselves all the time, right?

    I think I’ll buy a wedding gift, despite hearing the news third-hand.

    .:.

    When I look back on the last twenty plus years working for the place, there have been clashes. In the competitive nature of the place and the business, we’ve all bumped

    Cut to the chase: the photographers I work with are people I respect deeply. Each has talents that I envy, knowledge and understanding that I lack, kindness and empathy I admire.

    Do they know that?

    .:.

    It’s not about hate, it’s about love. The articles written and broadcast about yesterday’s ceremony won’t be able to capture the humor, the respect, the legacy of that hour.

    I hope to take those things and build something for myself and those I love. Because I can handle the silence from those outside the warmth of the campfire. The problem is, there’s no campfire right now.

  • January 27, 2016

    Sitting on the baseline with my Sony RX-100 iii. It draws a lot of questions from other photographers. The funny thing is, they never seem to get it.

    And even when I answer all their questions with, yes, it is good enough for a working pro, they tack on some bullsh*t requirements that no one’s going to meet.

    So tonight, I confirm the camera is ten frames a second for thirty in a row (RAW files!), that it’s great in low light, though definitely no Nikon D4s or Canon 1D-X, it’s great for just about everything.

    Just glad I’m not a camera manufacturer. You can never please a photographer. Ever.

  • January 25, 2016

    Texts sent while sitting in my car, waiting for the funeral of a slain police officer. Parked in front of me is a KSL NewsRadio vehicle that has been idling for 45 minutes, and probably won’t stop.

    + Here
    + Six shooters and we’ve got a mug online (an hour after funeral started)
    + It’s great. Steak nachos and a movie. Sitting in my car for three more hours.
    + The photo position is pretty weak for everything other than them driving in
    + Lol. I’m sitting in my car with some steak nachos. Trying to figure out which movie to watch. The photo position is pretty awful.
    + Yeah. And didn’t they send C to shoot the same thing on Saturday? The base Camp thing?
    + What’s your shot? Looking east after they pass, going up hill?
    + I didn’t see a school or anything promising along route. Might be too late in the day for students anyway. A couple churches. But hard to know how big this really is. It happened in Slc, not here. L didn’t even hear about it
    + I know. I didn’t see anything obvious. Not even a fire department with a big flag on the ladder.

    Even though there is snow all around, I’m in a t-shirt and starting to sweat from the sun beating down on the car. This guy in front of me is at least 300 pounds and is still idling his car.

    12:19, still a courtesy photo on the website, no live photos anywhere.

    + They’ve got one of those big flags hanging here now, from a pair of fire trucks. Just went up
    + I won’t be able to. There’s a hill between the platform and the flag, and I’ll have to be on that platform.
    + might be tough. there’s a bend in the road. you take a sharp left turn and there’s the flag. not sure you’d have a shot showing much
    + that’s what I’d recommend

    One hour forty minutes from start of funeral, still a courtesy file photo on the website.

    + the funeral is over.

    Two hours after the funeral starts, courtesy file photo still leads the page.

    + are you serious? I didn’t know that. Signs along 1600 N all said between 2-4, so you’re probably right. Courtesy photo only, no staff photos on website two hours after start of event.

    Before I drive home, I get some good feedback from the office. I click on the headline *Photos: Funeral* and the lead image is a video.

    .:.

    Watching a documentary on Henri Cartier-Bresson and an interesting thought – what gives the photograph value? Primarily the artistic content. The caption, the geo-location, the EXIF, who is in the photo. These things should be the least important. At the end of your life, when your greatest work as a photographer is collected, your eye and your vision should rule the day. Who is in your photographs may matter in the immediate moment when you’re marketing, selling. But ultimately, the best photographs rise above the meticulous work I’ve put into captioning and keywording.

  • January 20, 2016

    It’s 420am and I’m awake in my hotel room. Outside it’s 24 degrees and there’s a fresh coat of icy snow on my car. I can see it from the window, parked next to the oil crew trucks.

    I’ve been awake for an hour, reading from the unending stash of magazine articles I keep saving to my phone. A former FSB agent poisoned, a French jihadi, an American criminal who uncovered the Stingray secret police surveillance device.

    But I should be writing.

    .:.

    Spent yesterday, all of it, driving from my house to Wellington and then up through Nine Mile Canyon to Myton. It’s a 78 mile trip, that last part, and there are no services. Very little traffic of any kind at this time of year.

    I made it in a car with 301,000 miles, with the thought of becoming stranded on my mind the whole way.

    My only optimism came from the stores of water, chocolate and half a foot of a Subway sandwich I’d saved from lunch.

    The assignment was vague, at least the subjects of the assignment were vague, so the trip ended up being very similar to how I started out in photography – driving remote roads and making photographs.

    After I while I entered the oil fields in Duchesne County and the landscape became more visually interesting as far as my assignment went.

    .:.

    After the drive I arrived in R@osevelt, one of the worst towns in Utah. Listing the hardest places to find myself, R@osevelt and Bl@nding, two very similar towns, come to mind.

    From lodging, to food, to the culture clash between the white and native populations, these towns feel oppressive.

    The horrific meal at the Frontier Grill, topped with patriot country music and the ignorant table next to mine talking about how they’d be kidnapped if they traveled abroad (as if they would ever leave the country, let alone Utah, as they tried to figure out the cheapest way to order only a salad).

    It’s depressing and reassuring how quickly the mind can turn critical.

    .:.

    Today I’ll wake up and drive south through the Ashley National Forest, looking for photographs along the way.

  • January 8, 2016

    Been lurking on an old college friend’s husband’s twitter feed, studying the pattern of posts.

    + Idaho.
    + Immunizations cause autism.
    + Car insurance is wrong – using the public highways is simply a risk to be taken.
    + Oregon standoff guys are being setup by federal provocateurs.
    + You should be able to carry a gun everywhere.
    + You should carry a gun everywhere.

  • January 7, 2016

    I got an e-mail yesterday, automatically sent from a WordPress site I set up a year ago and forgot about. Curious, I went to the site and realized that it was a photo gallery site that was a nearly exact copy of one the same client had asked me to build two months ago.

    And it’s probably the fourth one I’ve built for that client, and every one has been abandoned very quickly. Two didn’t even launch. As for the fourth, I’m really excited about it. Documentation and advice has been sent to the person in charge. Now the wait.

    Who knows? The Slack channel has also been sitting there for months, never launched.

    I’m going to look back and see a real downside to working with people who have completely given up.

  • January 4, 2016

    My bookcase is next to the dinner table.

    At dinner, someone heading to Rwanda asks what books they should read. This is my cue, and I start pulling titled from the shelves.

    Well, Philip’s book is the go-to. It’s quite good.

    Fergal’s book is also here.

    Elizabeth’s book is my favorite, may she rest in peace. It mixes in Bosnia as well.

    Gilles’ book has few words, but says everything. You will have a hard time looking.

    I don’t think I have Romeo’s book any more.

    Immaculée’s book, which I don’t have, has a scene that burns itself into your soul, regardless of your faith in God.

    Then Jean’s book is in the words of the killers. Very chilling. I only got that far into it before I needed to take a break.

  • I’m thinking about this you go to do…

    I’m thinking about this – you go to do something great, but you film the setup and how it was done. why not let the art or result stand by itself. I’m glad I never did a how-to on the John Stockton composite. It stands alone.

  • It’s funny how today mediocrity won No it’s…

    It’s funny how today mediocrity won. No, it’s actually not funny. The assignment wasn’t one that was going to lead to some amazing award-winning frame. (And I’m not going to post a photo or talk about what it was— what you imagine may be better or worse.) But I stood out there for an hour (as long as my parking space allowed) and I shot the scene unfold about a dozen times.

    First take, frame too busy.
    Dodge traffic, watch for the walk sign, move back to the middle of the street.
    Second take, I was a moment late.
    Dodge traffic, watch for the walk sign, move back to the middle of the street.
    Third take, I wasn’t at the right angle.
    Repeat several times.
    Let the young, crying lady use my phone. “I just got to town and I got into an argument with my friend. I don’t know anyone here.”

    Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that it was so damn cold. My hands were going numb, even in the sunshine.

    The lady called her friend in Centerville 8x and never got an answer. She stood there crying.
    Two trains pulled up and I had another chance to get the shot. I’m distracted thinking about the directions to the shelter and miss the shot for a variety of reasons. I look around and she’s across the street now, reunited with her friend, who is hugging her so tight he’s lifting her off the ground.

    Enough about her.

    I got back to the office frozen and without a great shot. I had a usable shot, but not a great shot.

    And now I’m somewhat warm watching Bones Brigade, An Autobiography, and I’m watching these great skateboarders who influenced me so much in my youth. They are trying and falling, trying and falling, pushing themselves to greater things, over and over.

    And I gave up after an hour in the cold.

    To reach the greater heights that I’m seeking, I need to convert the frustration of the shot not coming together into a further determination and keep shooting, keeping working the scene. One hour parking spot or no. I need to push harder.

  • The other big project that I’m in the…

    The other big project that I’m in the middle of is backing my entire photo archive up to the cloud. We’re talking bout 600 gigabytes of selects at full resolution, ENCRYPTED, to Amazon’s new Glacier cloud service. It’s going to cost $6 a month to host it.

    Can’t be beat.

    Only problem is uploading 600 gigabytes. It’s taking a while.

    I’m using ARQ, which is a great backup program that handles the encryption, the upload/download, etc. Highly recommended.

  • part of my 2013 goals is to go…

    part of my 2013 goals is to go big. do things that take a little extra work, slow down and focus on making better work, no more snapshots, etc. I want to do things that are great.

    one thing I’ve done is my geotagging project.

    I’ve been wanting to geotag my archive for a while now. With the release of Lightroom 4, I started to geotag all of my photos going forward, so 2012 was done, but that left over 120,000 photographs untagged.

    Damn.

    Nothing worse than having to go back into your archive and add details that would have only taken a few minutes a day if you’d been doing them all along.

    I came up with a plan to make the job manageable. I’d simply geotag by day. So on November 1st, I’d go through and geotag every shot I’d taken on November 1st from 1986 until 2011. Sounded like a great plan, and I’d be done in a year or so.

    But then I went completely mental and geotagged over 130,000 photos in one month.

    I’m still trying to recover.

    But now I’ve got an incredible data set that I can put to use in a hundred different ways.

    —

  • January 7, 2011

    Assignment: CLASSIFIED, then canceled

    .:.

    Jury Duty: canceled

    .:.

    Got five discs from Netflix today. Three of them.

    .:.

    Went to see Black Swan with friends G&H, or H&G. It’s weird, G&H sounds better with the initials but if you are saying their names it’s better as H&G. Two rows ahead of me was one of Warren Jeffs’ attorneys, who didn’t spot me. Anyway, Black Swan. Wow. Crazy.

    .:.

    I started work on a composite photo that has 1,314 pieces. After I came home from the Olympics last year I was mental and had two weeks off so I spent hours watching Lost and cutting out shapes from thousands of photographs. It should be amazing when finished, but right now I have no idea how to piece it together. It’s like I have a 1,314 piece puzzle and there’s no correct way to assemble the pieces. I could go a hundred different directions.

    I started with a master canvas, dragged in some gridlines, and started putting in pieces as layers. After an hour I had hardly made any progress. 1,314 pieces are really 1,314 pieces, I guess. It’s a lot of pieces, way more than I’ve ever worked with. This is going to take a while. No wonder I put off the assembly of this image for ten months.

    .:.

    Time to crawl into bed. I’m considering two courses of action: watching Jersey Shore or reading a book on the Dalai Lama.

    I’ll write more on all of the things I’ve mentioned today as they mature. Though Jersey Shore Season 2 is the one thing not likely to mature.

  • January 6, 2011

    A fascinating story in Vanity Fair on Julian Assange and Wikileaks and the Guardian and ethics in journalism. Here’s the gist:

    Assange’s position was rife with ironies. An unwavering advocate of full, unfettered disclosure of primary-source material, Assange was now seeking to keep highly sensitive information from reaching a broader audience. He had become the victim of his own methods: someone at WikiLeaks, where there was no shortage of disgruntled volunteers, had leaked the last big segment of the documents, and they ended up at The Guardian in such a way that the paper was released from its previous agreement with Assange—that The Guardian would publish its stories only when Assange gave his permission. Enraged that he had lost control, Assange unleashed his threat, arguing that he owned the information and had a financial interest in how and when it was released.

    .:.

    Assignment: groundbreaking for new NSA facility.

    Assignment: guy in a bike shop.

    .:.

    No run ins with any GAMs today. All good. I started to read a book. It’s not out yet. It’s good. I’ll tell you more about it later. I guess that’s all I’ve got to say.

  • January 5, 2011

    I’ve spent most of the day editing photos. Flood, football, rodeo, more football. Lots of catching up to do so I can put everything from 2010 together for contests.

    .:.

    Today’s media: No time really. A little bit of Crackdown 2. And I almost started The Ricky Gervais Show. Karl Pilkington: amazing.

    And you know what? I’m not linking to the stuff I talk about on here anymore. If you see something interesting (and it all is), you can Google it yourself.

    .:.

    I’ve got this site for photojournalists in Utah. It’s a place photographers can post photographs and share ideas.

    When I designed the site I wanted a way for people to rate each other’s posts and photographs, but in a positive way. I made it so viewers could leave coins on posts they liked. They way I saw it there was no way to leave a negative vote, since no matter how many coins you left it would only drove a post’s score higher.

    But it didn’t take long for readers to figure out a way to mark a post as awful:

    The 1 coin vote.

    Since my system displays the average number of coins, a 1 coin vote often shows up on a post like an egg splattered across your windshield. I’m toying with the idea of removing the average coin display.

    Lately I had some issues with an acquaintance of mine. And now I’ve found out that he’s been leaving 1 coin votes on my posts as a way of vexing me. I know, right? It seems so immature that I didn’t believe it either. And this person is a grown, adult man (GAM).

    I found out what was going on after posting an innocuous item asking people to list their Twitter feeds. After an hour or so I was surprised to see that the post had received three 1 coin votes, an unheard-of number. Who hates Twitter? I wondered. So I looked.

    The coin system keeps a log of all votes. I rarely look at it, but a quick scan showed that this GAM had left the 1 coin votes. And from the time stamp I saw that he did this right after we had a disagreement. I looked further and saw he had gone through several of my posts in a matter of minutes handing out 1 coin votes to all of them, including one he had previously given a 14 coin vote. This GAM was clearly acting like a dick.

    1 coin votes?

    It’s absolutely ridiculous.

    .:.

    Time to cast a spell on all GAMs…

    Let your coins flow freely. Life is too short to be bitter. Leave me alone as I leave you alone. The End.

    Goodnight GAMs.

  • January 4, 2011

    Assignment – shooting.

    According to the cops, they’re chasing a guy who drives into a ditch, runs, and pulls a gun. They shoot and kill him. It’s the first time I’ve taken a photograph in Hooper, Utah.

    Assignment – barn fire.

    .:.

    Finished the film A Single Man. Great.

    Started watching Jersey Shore Season 2.

    Yes. Jersey Shore. Let’s see if I can keep this post from going off the rails.

    Laura lasted less than ten seconds before she stopped watching. I kept going. I need to find out if Ronnie and Sammi’s on and off-again relationship will ever last longer than twenty minutes drinks.

    You know what’s great about shows like Jersey Shore? I think I figured it out…

    When I was young it was easy to laugh at people. I didn’t know any better. Now I’m older and life has humbled me. I try to laugh with people, not at them.

    But when watching Jersey Shore I can laugh at people and there is absolutely no guilt; the losers I’m laughing at are very well paid.

    Sign of the times: Object of Ridicule is now a paid position.

  • January 3, 2011

    Morning came way too early today. I was exhausted getting everyone off to school. Maybe exhaustion is the perfect mental state for editing photos, because you don’t have any patience for the mediocre images that crowd your archive. When you’re exhausted you just want one thing: Sleep. Can’t.

    Soon everyone has left except me and the dog, who vomits on the rug.

    .:.

    I’m watching a special on photojournalist Reza. I see he’s shooting with a Leica 21mm lens and I remember that I sold mine in 2004 and spent the money on a Canon DSLR. I feel like vomiting on the rug.

    Please Kill Me.

    .:.

    I put the rug outside on a picnic table and rub snow on it, leaving it in the sun to melt. When I check later the rug has frozen to the table and I am unable to move it.

    .:.

    Watched Salt. Three stars.

    .:.

    Sorting through files on my computer, I find this quote:

    The reason everyone is so bitchy in academia is because the stakes are so low.

    Please substitute journalism for academia.

    .:.

    I had a dream. I was photographing in a deserted industrial town. Think Detroit, or Magna. Everyone had vanished and I was in an abandoned prison photographing three murderous inmates. No guards anywhere. One of the killers realized the door was unlocked and walked out to freedom and mayhem. I was thinking, Do I keep shooting or run for safety? But they left me unharmed when I suggested that they hold a pagan mass and invite the Christian townspeople, who they hated.

    I walked through the woods and found a suitable location for the mass, a spot where we could build a large bonfire. I walked to my tent and saw it had been soaked by rain.

    .:.

    The day ends like it began. Sleep. Can’t.

    I don’t feel like editing photos.

    And the rug is still outside, frozen to the backyard.

  • January 2, 2011

    We were trying to think of a way to deface the church program. I said, “We could draw that famous photo of Bigfoot in the background.”

    “What famous photo of Bigfoot?” my son asked.

    “You know, the one that turned out to be a fake,” I said.

    “Of course it’s a fake,” he said.

    It hit me like a slap in the face… Science has gotten to my kids. They don’t believe in Bigfoot.

  • January 1, 2011

    I’m just sitting here looking at the dashboard of a website that is supposed to be finished in a matter of hours. It’s basically done but I’m not sure. It’s going to be used by journalists all over the state and some will be computer illiterate. That’s the challenge. And like many projects I seem to take on, I’m not completely sure how it will end up. But I always make sure that it does “end up.”

    .:.

    I’ve also compiled a list of the places I post, as I continue to figure out what to do with all of that. Am I really posting on nine blogs, and managing another dozen? That’s something I’ve got to change immediately. I’m diluting the audience.

    I was really excited last year to set up this now mostly dead site, which was intended to pop culture posts. I invited three friends from high school to write with me. Back in the mid-80s we put out a zine together. Now we all live in different places and don’t keep in touch so the site would have been the perfect place for us to share music, films, books, etc., that we are into. It never took off. Only two of us posted on a regular basis. I stopped after a while, and now only the occasional post comes up from Jef. Every time he posts now it’s like the last bubbles of air coming to the surface of the lake. I can just sense the man drowning below. It’s too bad. We are all creative, funny, and unique. It should have been fun. Thanks Jef, for trying.