Friday, February 27
Wednesday, February 18
Tuesday, February 17
Thursday, February 12
Wednesday, February 11
Tuesday, February 10
One day in 1986 my sister and I were out shopping with our mother. My sister was six, I was four and we rode happily in the shopping cart. Eventually, our mother began to steer the cart toward the toy department to reward us for being such little darlings. Off in the distance we could see them along the back wall. Rows and rows of bright color, from the bottom shelf almost all the way to the sky. We were ecstatic as we went closer and closer. There they were sitting, patiently waiting for us... The Gummi Bears.
"Okay, you are each allowed one. Which would you like?"
My sister always driven by a wild and annoying force to be first shouted "Sunni!" and plucked the yellow bear off the shelf.
Sunni, the teenage girl bear. Very annoying, always needing help and dreaming about being a princess.
Let her have Sunni. I sat calmly in the cart and assessed the others.
Zummi, the old man bear. Forgetful and basically insane. Grammi, the motherly bear. A neat/control freak. Gruffi, the adult man bear. Strong, anti-social, and prone to mood swings. Tummi, the young male bear. Eats non-stop, very nice but very stupid. Cubbi, the little brother bear. Funny and adventurous. And of course the option of another Sunni.
I looked from one to the next, then I turned to my mother and pointed. She reached for the bear, "You're sure that's who you want? You're sure?" I nodded and pointed again. She placed Gruffi into the cart.
And that the story of me being four years old and identifying with a middle aged, man bear who cared for nothing and no one.
"Okay, you are each allowed one. Which would you like?"
My sister always driven by a wild and annoying force to be first shouted "Sunni!" and plucked the yellow bear off the shelf.
Sunni, the teenage girl bear. Very annoying, always needing help and dreaming about being a princess.
Let her have Sunni. I sat calmly in the cart and assessed the others.
Zummi, the old man bear. Forgetful and basically insane. Grammi, the motherly bear. A neat/control freak. Gruffi, the adult man bear. Strong, anti-social, and prone to mood swings. Tummi, the young male bear. Eats non-stop, very nice but very stupid. Cubbi, the little brother bear. Funny and adventurous. And of course the option of another Sunni.
I looked from one to the next, then I turned to my mother and pointed. She reached for the bear, "You're sure that's who you want? You're sure?" I nodded and pointed again. She placed Gruffi into the cart.
And that the story of me being four years old and identifying with a middle aged, man bear who cared for nothing and no one.
Monday, February 9
happy blog-aversary
Wow a whole year... I can't believe it.
Twelve months of upkeep on something really is a lot for me.
Although, I do admit that November and December got a little dicey on here.
Having said that... its a blog, not a house plant or a pet.
Like a rock... a pet rock.
Basically what I guess I am trying to say is... if I had a pet rock, it would be lost or in the garbage by now.
So you can imagine how surprised I am with myself that I haven't deleted this blog yet.
Twelve months of upkeep on something really is a lot for me.
Although, I do admit that November and December got a little dicey on here.
Having said that... its a blog, not a house plant or a pet.
Like a rock... a pet rock.
Basically what I guess I am trying to say is... if I had a pet rock, it would be lost or in the garbage by now.
So you can imagine how surprised I am with myself that I haven't deleted this blog yet.
Yay for me!
My brother-cousin Nate took this image. I think it speaks volumes.
My sister, me and my sister-cousin in December.
My brother-cousin Nate took this image. I think it speaks volumes.
My sister, me and my sister-cousin in December.Saturday, February 7
Friday, February 6
Thursday, February 5
my personal photography philosophy.
I find it to be difficult to always pinpoint why you are interested in the things that you are. The only understanding I have been able to come to, is that personal life experiences make you see things in a certain way. That way of seeing will eventually lead you, so its best to trust it and not ask a lot questions.
Years ago, I wanted to become a Buddhist monk. The draw was a combination of trying to achieve a higher purpose, being able to wear colorful robes and eating rice in a temple. As a child, these things all seem very glamorous and I was quite set on this plan. However, commercials on daytime TV gave me a second and rather impressive option of possibly becoming a truck driver. As a truck driver, I could travel North America, enjoying a bond with fellow truckers and all the while, making good money.
My heart was torn. Would I give up the option of quietly observing as a worldly monk? Or, should I do without the freedom of enjoying the open road as a savvy trucker? I decided that losing either of these options was not going to benefit me. I needed to find a career that highlighted and combined the allure of both, into one super dream vocation. I did, and it was called photography.
Clearly, duality is something that interests me. The only reason that I ever take an image is because I can identify with something that falls within the frame of my viewfinder. It helps me play devil's advocate, allows me to beg questions, it even tolerates my poking fun of something or someone. No matter what I choose, the viewfinder will consent. Ultimately, allowing a remarkable amount of time to consider and scrutinize reality, which is complete with everything from monks to truckers.
Years ago, I wanted to become a Buddhist monk. The draw was a combination of trying to achieve a higher purpose, being able to wear colorful robes and eating rice in a temple. As a child, these things all seem very glamorous and I was quite set on this plan. However, commercials on daytime TV gave me a second and rather impressive option of possibly becoming a truck driver. As a truck driver, I could travel North America, enjoying a bond with fellow truckers and all the while, making good money.
My heart was torn. Would I give up the option of quietly observing as a worldly monk? Or, should I do without the freedom of enjoying the open road as a savvy trucker? I decided that losing either of these options was not going to benefit me. I needed to find a career that highlighted and combined the allure of both, into one super dream vocation. I did, and it was called photography.
Clearly, duality is something that interests me. The only reason that I ever take an image is because I can identify with something that falls within the frame of my viewfinder. It helps me play devil's advocate, allows me to beg questions, it even tolerates my poking fun of something or someone. No matter what I choose, the viewfinder will consent. Ultimately, allowing a remarkable amount of time to consider and scrutinize reality, which is complete with everything from monks to truckers.
Wednesday, February 4
Tuesday, February 3
clean(ing)
I found a baggie containing a white power in my house over the weekend.
It was in a glass bowl on the highest shelf in the kitchen, behind a section of metal.
Anyhow it was really, really, upsetting.
And no, not because I found an old coke stash.
I was really pissed off because my mom said that she cleaned there when I moved in.
What a liar... why would you lie about wiping shelves off?!
I don't get it.
Monday, February 2
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
