A Photo Geeks ups and downs through words and images.
Below is another image from my time at Philadelphia’s Eastern State Penitentiary. While taking pictures, I learned a lot about the way prisons were run. How inmates and employees interacted and early influences on the current penal system. I hope to go back in a few months, but for now I’m very happy with the images and knowledge I left with.
Saturday marked our first trip to Philadelphia since leaving New Jersey in 2017. Each week, we come up with two plans for weekend action. Often waiting until Saturday morning to formulate a new plan and forfeit our original choices. I know, it sounds counterproductive, but somehow it works. Within minutes of jumping out of the shower we were out the door. Me, with no knowledge of our destination. Just the insistance to bring my camera and be prepared to take pictures. After a long drive we stopped at Nom Wah, in Philadelphia’s Chinatown for a satisfying dim sum breakfast before ultimately heading over to Eastern State Penitentiary to soak in the dark history of penitentiary life before stopping for dinner at a nearby Waffle House before the long trip home. Below is one of many favorite pictures taken that day. Stay out of trouble. Stay out of jail.
Growing up in New York City, the closest I ever came to a cow was eating a cheeseburger at a local my Dad frequented. In my late teens, I was introduced to vegetarianism through some close friends. Since then, I’ve developed a love and admiration so strong that the mere sight of cows grazing in the distance brings me a childish joy that would be hard to describe. I found myself within a few feet of a group of cows feeding just outside a nearby farm. I patiently watched, hoping they’d come within a distance of my newish 100 -400 mm lens. Some of the cows came so close that I could reach out to pet a couple and communicate with a few moos’ despite the overwhelming midday sun. I managed to capture a few shots without reaching for my flash.
With about a half hour to kill before my haircut appointment, I took a trip down the escalator to check out the subway stop to fuel my newest obsession with photographing trains and the stations they frequent daily. I’ve lived in Virginia for over two years and have just started exploring its complex interiors. Having toured and ridden the subways of London, Paris, Tokyo, and others. I’ve come to appreciate the architecture and designs incorporated by many. Inspiring my respect and appreciation for what comes from the minds of true artists and respected methods that often convey the visions of gifted minds. It’s easy to take things of this nature for granted, as we are so focused on our daily travels and mindsets. Please think of the countless times I’ve focused on my phone screen or kept my head down to avoid unsolicited contact. There was a moment when I focused on the moment at hand, fixated on this colossal and timeless gift to creativity.
If you’ve been paying attention, there’s this phrase by some guy named Emerson, that been passed around that says, “It’s not the destination. It’s the journey that matters.” Emerson was also quoted as saying, “Always do what you’re afraid to do.” Not being a philosopher myself. I have often sought understanding through travel and exploring different cultures, different ideologies, and economic imbalances. My experiences traveling (To another continent or just down the hall.) and interactions with people have educated me and informed me. Eliminating many prejudices and stereotypes, I might have had if I’d stayed within my bubble. And for that, I am forever grateful.
Due to the time we arrived at Maryland’s Stony Park farm, the sun was so strong, that getting the images I had hoped for were dashed by how overwhelmingly bright the sun was, It wasn’t until much later in the day when we stopped for ice cream, that I would dare take my camera out of the bag and attempt a shot or two. As a born and raised city boy. One whose lived his entire life in an urban setting. Getting out of my element and experiencing a completely different way of life is mind blowing. The experience has a child-like effect on me that can only be compared to that as a wide eyed kid in a toy store. My love and admiration of farm life, tractors and barnyard animals is boundless. So when the sky began to offer shade. I made sure I had an image to take home and boast about. Here’s my capture of the steering wheel and headlight of the tractor parked outside of the creamery.
This afternoon while stopped outside a farm. I exited the car to take a picture of a relatively unpopulated road. As I began to compose and adequately expose my subject. I began to hear my wife rapidly repeating the words “Chop. Chop.” Urging me to get it done, get back in the car, and get out of there as soon as possible. While I appreciate her support and willingness to go along with the plan as long as the program doesn’t involve her getting out of the car or waiting for more than a fraction of a second. I fully realize that, at the end of the day. I’m better off going it alone.
Over the years, it’s become crystal clear that my wife is my staunchest critic and supporter. However, adding her to the creative aspect of it all is both a major distraction and a pain in the fucking ass. As someone who has become more of a landscape and street photographer in recent years. My wife is, more than often, right by my side. Whether it be asking a million question as to what attracts me to a subject or being over protective to my history of risky attempts of capturing a moment. A good example would be yesterdays trip to Richmond and my fascination with photographing many of the downtown murals.When asked about “Photographing other peoples art.” and, basically hijacking someone’s creative energy. When my explanation of both documenting and interpreting my surroundings didn’t communicate the intended message. Explaining that my approach and goal while when shooting is to document the artists work respectfully. While also interpreting and conceptualizing in my own way. Why that might some like bull cookies to many. It’s how I do.
For as long as I can remember, my wife’s “What do you want to do this weekend?” has been a trigger as far as my habit to over think. While those words and that question are not and have never been intended to inflict any fear or pressure. I’ve often taken it a lot more seriously. As the years go by and we both get older. Our interests have narrowed considerably. My answers to “What do you want to do this weekend have narrowed down to coffee, photography, and record shopping. Bacon often finds its way into the conversation, but that’s just me being patriotic.
This weekend, for the first time in more than ten years. I took a trip to Richmond to attend a long-time friends inclusion in an intimate record show. Aside from seeing this beautiful friend, getting the stuffing hugged out of me, and meeting her husband. I enjoyed nourishing food, walked the streets of a diverse city and took lots of pictures. On the right is the restaurant, delicatessen where we started our day.
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