Once Upon a Time in Hell’s Kitchen.

Living in Hell’s Kitchen was nine years of growth in countless ways. It was where I became a photographer and sharpened my writing and storytelling skills. I met and befriended a wide array of people from diverse backgrounds and I got married in the community garden directly across the street from my apartment on 48th Street. With all the rolls of film I shot. I wish I had spent more time photographing the character and character of my neighborhood. Accurately depicted in movies such as Sleepers, State of Grace, Gangs of New York, and countless others. As a kid, my Father would share his stories about his encounters with James Coonan and the Hell’s Kitchen gang, The Westies. When I look back, it’s surreal.

When it Rains…

As long as no one gets hurt or damages their property. A full-on thunderstorm with thunder and the kind of downpour strong enough to keep the roads clear is beautiful. While most of the photographers I know run for cover to protect their expensive investments. I’ll, at the very least, find a window or a doorway to capture something. (My camera hood when I’m brave enough to venture outside.) Living in Virginia, storms appear at a regular. On Monday, July 1st. Shit got pretty real. The storm lasted long enough to grab my camera and adjust it’s setting in order to capture some shadows without getting struck by lighting. Over the last couple of months. I’ve had a few opportunities to take photos in the rain. Perhaps it will give me the confidence to shoot in other extreme conditions. One can only hope.

Thank You for the Memories.

Over the weekend, my wife and me took a trip north to the area of New Jersey we once called home. During those two days we covered a lot of ground and met up with a respectable amount of old friends and loved ones. One, a long time friend and photography mentor met us at a otherwise overlooked Irish spot on Clifton. This friend, one who had met some health issues head on and conquered them was full of life and laughter. He made my wife smile from ear to ear and even knocked my hardened personality back to life. As our meet up began to wind down. He pulled out a coffee table book on the famed photography and directorial icon Herb Ritts While the book served as a priceless token of our friendship. One I can’t imagine I earned. It served as a reminder of my childhood visits to DDB (Doyle, Dane, Bernbach.) where my Mother was a financially struggling secretary.

As a ten year old, it was such a privilege being brought up to the art department where artists and designers were working on the next, best sketch, art piece, or movie poster. The work, along with the artists I met, gave me an early passion and understanding of art that influenced me to draw and ultimately dive into photography. Years later, I was sitting next to a friend catching up on one another’s travels and run ins. The time was short, yet conversations through regular phone calls Kept us up on the important things. As our time came to an end, he revealed a old brown bag. Within, a book to brought back the memories of the apartment I grew up. Yes, we were poor, but my Mom always brought art and art books given to her at work. Things and memories that enriched us in countless ways. Funny how two unrelated stories reflect one another. I guess that’s life.

Just A Minor Threat

This past week, I attended two events celebrating new book releases from and about subjects whose work and passion have positively influenced me, my life, and the course the roads it’s taken. As usual, I decided to take my camera along. Taking place at Washington DC’s MLK Memorial Library and Virginia’s George Mason University Campus. Groundbreaking Photographer Glen E. Friedman and Ian McKay (Minor Threat. Dischord Records, Fugazi.) spoke about Glen’s photos and his book ‘Just a Minor Threat.’ Allowing me many firsts, including my first visit to the MLK Memorial Library and meeting Glen and Ian. Later in the week, I had a similar experience visiting George Mason University to sit in on a discussion about the book with photographer Antonia Tricarico, Joe Lally (Fugazi), and the man himself, producer/engineer of Viginia’s legendary Inner Ear Studio, Don Zientara on the book ‘The Inner Ear of Don Zientarara.’ I took a few pictures while I listened intently. I bought my first book of Friedman’s music photos, ‘Fuck You Heroes,’ in 1994. Each of the people I met at these events influenced my art immensely and provided stories regarding their journey. Looking back on my life, thing of the impact their images, music and the recordings they helped shape. It’s worth wondering what it would have been with it.

Looking Back into the Future of the Blog

Earlier this morning, I took some time to revisit some prior posts on the blog. Initially, I wanted to check to see if anything needed editing or, if thoroughly embarrassing or inappropriate, deleted. As I quickly found myself going back to my years as a Jersey City resident, I was happy to see that the overall tone of my posts was overwhelmingly positive. Getting to see my life, travels, and experiences documented through words and images reinforced my belief that starting this blog more than ten years ago served as much more than an opportunity to share m passion for photography.

Road (1 of 1)

Blogging allowed me to communicate my thoughts while sharing my work. Perhaps the most unexpected gain has been finding consistency, and being able to backtrack and see my progress has been rewarding, though there’s always plenty of room for improvement and growth. I feel that it’s more than worth the effort and time. I created and built this blog on my love of photography, art, and life itself. I’ve learned a lot more than I’ve taught, and I hope to continue to learn more about myself and life before sharing my ups, downs, and experiences with the people who dare to read and follow. Here’s to the future, present, and even the past.

Art is my Weapon

For as long as I can remember and most likely longer, I’ve always been surrounded and inspired by art. As a kid, my mom worked as a secretary for a huge advertising agency and would often bring home art books and have artistic nudes (Two of which I still own and proudly display in my own home.) hanging for all to see. Whether intended or not, it set me on a course that still inspires me to create, build and make things that I feel might be impactful.

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It’s worth noting that my Mother’s early influence and my trips to her midtown office, where I’d often find myself sitting in with the companies art department. It was those moments and exchanges that would play a major role in my early development, as well as becoming a major influence on my wanting to write and inevitably become interested in picking up a camera in order to document my surroundings. Many years later as childhood led to adolescence and adolescence led to adulthood., I can’t help but notice how much art and the desire to create still drives me. Now that my Mom is following my blog, it might be time to thank her and tell her that I understand and even partially agree when she says, “We’re a lot alike,.”

Thanks For Checking In, All 16,000 of you.

Earlier this morning I received an email from Word Press wishing me a Happy New Year and sending me a personalized report detailing the blogs traffic, most poplar posts and where my visitors are checking in from. I was astounded when I read that in 2011 16,000 people from four different continents visited Photo Geek throughout the year. This was shocking considering I rarely check my stats or get many comments on my posts. I’ve run into many friends and strangers who when I give them my business card tell me “Oh my God, I read your blog all the time.” or “You’re that dude?’.  It’s pretty weird to say the least. It’s one of the many reasons I still do this.

To tell the truth, it’s one of the longest creative endeavors I’ve been involved with. Knowing that I’m actually reaching somebody is enough to keep me going. Knowing that there’s more than half a dozen of you out there is the icing on the cake.

Thank you and Happy New Year,

The Photo Geek

Happiness

I was having a conversation recently with a photographer I had just met the day before. We were just talking shop and sharing some of our experiences. Then she said something that hit me like a bag of sand. (bags of sand are quite heavy.) She said “To be honest. I’m only truly happy when I’m shooting.” I sat frozen for a second. A second that seemed like a lifetime. This woman who I had just met said what I’ve been feeling for so long. It was as if someone had just hijacked my soul and said the very words that I’ve never been able to say myself.

Since I was a child I always had this hyper creativity about myself. Always writing and creating in one way or another. It wasn’t until I got into photography  that it really hit me though. From the moment I got my first camera I was obsessed. As I got better that obsession took up more and more of my time and occupied more real estate in my thoughts. When I think about it I’m reminded of an old Ray Romano skit where he talks about his young daughter of four. She was looking out the window in what seemed to be deep thought for some time. When he asked her what she was thinking about. She replied “Candy”. That’s me. Only a lot older and with photography. I was laying in bed last night around 4:00 AM. Tossing and turning, reflecting on that days shoot and the ones that are coming. Thinking of how I can avoid having my pictures start to look the same. Working on new concepts and ideas. I just can’t put my mind to rest. Laying awake my eyes focused the wardrobe in front of the bed. “What if I emptied it out and photographed someone inside. Someone who feels trapped.” It’s fucking 4:00 AM and I’m thinking about this shit. It’s crazy.

My long time friend Mandy got me into volunteering a little over a year ago. During the times I shot these events I’ve received so much love and praise for pictures I thought were pretty mediocre. I’ve sent them to her with an almost apologetic tone. Of course she’s always positive and appreciative, exclaiming “these are amazing.” “Why are you so hard on yourself?” The thing is, I’m not an events photographer but I want to be at my very best regardless. Even when I’m shooting portraits, something that I’ve become very good at. I keep thinking “I can do better. I can do more.” It’s an obsession.

The plain and simple truth is that when I’m shooting. When I’m in that mindset. I’m the very best I think I’ve ever been or can be. I’m pretty much a dork when it comes down to it. But when I’m in the studio communicating and creating, I feel like a fucking Rock Star. I can say and do things I wouldn’t be able to otherwise. I’m happy and confident. I’m not shy, self conscious or clumsy. (okay, maybe a little clumsy.) Not to freak anyone out but I’ve even compared it to sex. Not quite there but about as close to an orgasm as you can get without….. well, you know. So yeah, maybe I am only truly happy when I’m shooting. God, help me.

Photographers Rights

Terror AlertLast week while taking pictures in Hoboken (my town) I was swiftly pulled over by three Police cars. They came up on me quickly and boxed me into a corner.
An officer came up to me and very politely asked me what I was doing. They had received calls about a “suspicious looking photographer taking pictures near the trains and overpass.” The officer was cool. he just asked me what I was taking the pictures for and if i was working on any project, which I was. I told him I was a photographer and gave him a card which displayed an image like the kind I was shooting. He complimented my work and asked “Don’t you listen to the news? There’s a heightened terror alert today.” I laughed and told him I try to stay away from the news since it all seems bad. He radioed back “It’s just a photographer who’s working on a project. He’s legit.” Within a few seconds they raced off and I continued on my merry way.
I wouldn’t consider this a bad experience but it just goes to remind me how often this happens. I’ve been confronted by Police, Security Guards and just random people about where I can and can not take pictures. All the while our every move is being watched, filmed and documented. All so we can be protected from “ourselves”. I understand the fear that 9/11 created. I lost friends and family as did so many people. Yes, I understand the fear and the need to protect people but I don’t want to live in fear and be kept from doing the things I love because of it.