A Photo Geeks ups and downs through words and images.
This image reminds me of how fragile time is. Life goes by so fast, and we rarely stop to appreciate the countless moments that have enhanced how we approached things. How we choose to treat people. Today, a brief encounter with a family at the hospital reminded me that intimate moments can remind you of the person you are and choose to be. Seize those moments and place them in a memory bank to be recalled when needed. Simply put, every now and then, we all need reminders of who we really are.
I often wish for the days of not overthinking every situation or decision. To not want anything I don’t already have or do not want. I want to have a superpower ability that helps me remain calm and react with restraint in even the most tension-filled moments. While I’ve read the books and attended the lectures. I still remember my grade school report card noting my lack of self-control in the otherwise satisfactory conduct section.
Choosing my favorite photos from my first experience taking the local transit from Fairfax, Virginia to Washington DC. While, by all means, my objective in bringing my camera along with me, lay ahead on the streets of DC. It was the transfer and the few minutes I waited for the connecting train to arrive that created the images that gave me a rush. Though many of the best shots taken focused on similar ideas and techniques. There were some that stood out more than others. The photo below is one of those photos. Having taken my first train ride at the age of seven and acknowledging it as my introduction and long time vehicle for freedom and exploration. I’ll forever credit it for it’s lasting contributions to my life. Growing up in New York City. The stories and dangers related to a ride on the subway were epic. Becoming an adult and experiencing transit in different cities, countries and continents continue to impact my life.
Despite leaving the tripod and timer at home. I kept my camera steady enough to capture a long exposure on the cold night. Having lived in New Jersey. WAWA became a regular stop for life’s essentials. Having one or two within my web of travel ensures both satisfaction and survival.
As I sit here, assuring myself that week two of this unwavering cold will make its final appearance and I’ll be back in the wild, making good with the opportunities thrust upon me, using my self-taught talents to break free from this winter malaise by finding new inspiration to chase down projects that will keep me busy and financially satisfied throughout the remaining winter. In the meantime, I’ve put aside time to sharpen my skills and add a few new tricks to fill my old bag of tools. Although I finally have my new website up and running. There is tons more to do. I’d love to get around to meeting up with art minded folks in Virginia, Maryland and Washington DC. And even find a place or three to exhibit my work. Only time will tell. In the meantime, I’m putting aside time each day to revisit old files and images in order to keep my hard drives from being featured on an episode of Hoarders.
Pancakes, a cold-cut fit for a king, and a homemade lasagna served with a rarely enjoyed craft soda. These are just a few of the bright moments of my Christmas. I hope you are enjoying the holidays with all the fixings while counting down the days to a new year. Happy Holidays and a bright New Year.
Last night I had a dream I had gone back to work as a portrait photographer. As of late, I’ve often thought about the idea, and what I might do differently and how I’d approach each subject personally and in attaining the shot. Perhaps with more knowledge or proper lighting and more confidence. All these years later, I find myself drawn to the image by the same traits. The eyes, expression and possibly what lies beneath. All these years later. Portraiture remains my passion. I hope that if I ever return to it. I’ll skip the nervous knots that often accompanied my sessions and just enjoy the moment.
While it’s hard to believe. My wife and I have called Virginia home for four years now. With four years in Seattle and a life living, working, and going to school close to, or directly in New York City. The common theme was always finding a spot where the food was consistently excellent and the hospitaliy of the waitstaff, management and owners made you feel like family. With spots in all the five boroughs of New York, the diner scenes in New Jersey and the many spots we enjoyed in the Seatttle area.being such a source of joy. Finding such a place in our new setting was of the utmost importance. Whether it’s the food, the waitstaff who serve you week to week, or the owners/mangement who stop at your table to check on you. These people and the food they provide are part of your community and extended family. As far as Bob & Edith’s are concerned. It would be a hard task to find anyone who combines good, simple food with an atmosphere so welcoming. Your often tempted to invite the waiter/waitress to take a brake to join you for a cup of bottomless cup of coffee. Of course, I’d never do that, combining the possibility of getting them fired or getting looked at like a three headed monster.
As Winter rolls in. The nights are coming earlier, while the temperatures are dropping like flies. With the arrival of freezing cold weather. It’s getting harder and harder to convince myself to bundle up in layers that once applied, have taken away most of the energy needed for such outings. However, last week, with my wife visiting family in Tokyo and the temperature at a steady 36 degrees. I left home twice with camera, tripod and a few other essentials to have a little fun on the dark, cold evening. When evaluating those moments. Armed with a sense of confidence that I packed everything I would need and the patience I often lack to properly set up the shot I wanted to capture by closely following certain rules regarding photographing under more challenging circumstances. I returned home knowing I achieved my goal without the burden of second guessing.
During a short phone call with my Mother. I admitted to resenting the fact that she, along with her third husband (The One I still consider my stepfather.), left me behind whenever vacationing or traveling beyond our borders. Now granted, I was thirteen or fourteen when they tied the knot. Old enough to fend for myself, too old for a Home Alone scenerio and the perfect age target to base an 80s John Hughes teen flick on. (You know. Parents go on vacation. Teenager throws party for the ages.) Not to deny the fact they might have needed an escape from the constant stress of raising a troublesome teen.
However, not including me in trips to Spain, Puerto Rico, Spain and Hawaii over a four year span is downright neglectful. (Note that I am sitting here with my arms tightly folded and a scowl on my face. Awaiting my overdue tickets and passport.) While I certainly missed out on some amazing adventures and exploration. Their vacations were as much a break from them. Than they were a break from me.
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