When my wife asked if I’d go sweater shopping with her, I immediately agreed. Knowing how much time she invests in trying to make sure I’m happy, it seemed as if my wish that she finally do something rewarding for herself had finally arrived. Having become used to accompanying her to a mall or outlet, I was a bit puzzled when she got off the highway and began navigating her way down a winding, dirt road. Was this a well crafted surprise or perhaps a pit stop where jugs of apple cider and sugar coated donuts await. Judging from the barking dogs and strange looking beasts that flanked us on both sides, probably not. It was then when my wife pointed to a small hut and said “That’s where I’m going to look for a sweater.” Being that I already own four sweaters and try to limit my shopping to bacon and records. I took a moment to enjoy the farm and meet its inhabitants. Enclosed within a wide open field were twenty or more Alpaca spread out over what looked like a pretty big field. Like many of the farm animals I’ve come across while traveling, Alpacas are pretty chill and seem more curious than bothered by visitors. Within a few moments, a number of them gravitated towards me, perhaps to say hello, or more likely to see if I had brought presents. Then, just as I began to move closer to the fence, the one pictured below came around the corner like a boss. I don’t know how she got out, but the man who ran the farm told me she was quite the escape artist.
I’ve been tuning in to the History channel’s TV show ‘American Pickers’ a lot these days. And while many of the characters and destinations featured on the show could easily find their way to an episode of ‘Hoarders’. Digging through a families history as opposed to unearthing years of unattended cat feces somehow appeals to me.
As a kid growing up in the shadows of Shea stadium, the junk yards guarded by attack dogs and pop up automotive repair and parts shacks just a few feet beyond, I became enamored with old trucks, their histories and the miles they accumulated while making their rounds. You see, everyone and everything has a history as well as a unique story to tell. For myself, I’ve always felt a responsibility to document and whenever possible preserve it. Knowing full well, that nothing is permanent.
When I got up to go to the bathroom before leaving the Starbucks headquarters located in the SODO area of Seattle, my wife looked up at me and laughed before asking “Are you going in there to take pictures?” I frowned as if to I was reacting to some ridiculous question from a half out of her mind crazy lady. “Pffft” I quickly replied as I rolled my eyes before wandering towards the facilities. Though relieving myself before the ride home was my key reason for my sudden departure. My wife’s knowledge of how incredibly predictable I can be, had me reaching towards my back pocket to ensure I was indeed carrying my iPhone.
When you enter a room, whether it’s a cheap hotel, a lavish ballroom, someones living room or a bathroom. You are sure to get a sense of what went into the thought process and overall design. Bathrooms are by far the most overlooked when it comes to proving anything more than the basics. However, when you walk into one where you can tell a lot of thought and artful attention went into creating a space that is often overlooked when it comes to art. So after making my deposit, thoroughly washing and drying my hands. I took a moment to capture an image of the sink that extended throughout like a brook and the lighted mirrors that adorned the wall above. Note the contrast and shadows disabling the flash gave me.
I took this one today while admiring the cool little nooks and crannies of SODO Seattle’s downtown Starbucks headquarters. Just a reminder that, no matter where you go, there’s always an opportunity to be creative.With just a little post editing in lightoroom, I added some texture by slightly adjusting the contrast, shadows and highlights of a picture I took with my phone.
I have never carved a pumpkin. I don’t like pumpkin pie and think the whole pumpkin spice thing is bat shit crazy. I don’t have kids, but hate that adults have basically hijacked the whole costume tradition. Aside from that, I bought forty dollars worth of candy last year and decorated my apartment door only to great ZERO trick or treators.
That said, I love the Fall, it’s colors and sweater weather. I love apple picking and the sound of leaves crunching under my feat. Each year, I visit the pumpkin patches, admire the hand crafted scarecrows with my wife and even convince her to sit and watch “It’s the great pumpkin, Charlie Brown.”
I was enjoying my Chi Tea and downtime at Rochester’s Minnesota’s Forager Brewery when I left my seat for a quick bathroom break and tour of the facilities. Most of what I found was a designers wet wet dream. Form the cool architecture, extra nooks and crannies and magazine inspiring design, I was inspired to fire off a few shots from my camera. As I’ve grown to love shadows and contrast, I find myself leaving my flash in the bag, if taking it along at all. As I made my way back to my seat, I noticed these tea cups / lights hanging from the ceiling looking quite artful. As my days as a studio photographer seem to have come to a close, I’ve found solace knowing I’m still inspired to capture and document my surroundings.
After flying into Minneapolis and securing our rental car, we quickly proceeded to our favorite record store Electric Fetus. As we parked the car and headed in, we noticed that the flying germ factories were amassing and hoped our windshield would be spared. After some intense crate digging we returned to ur car only to notice a somewhat ominous scene. It was as if all those birds had gathered on that nearby rooftop to form an unholy alliance and inspire on those unfortunate and defenseless humans below. Lucky for us, we managed to escape with no injuries or poop to eventually banish from our rental car. As for the town and the parking lot, I never checked the news to find out what horror might have descended on the town folk. I was just thankful that we made it out alive.