happy new year's eve!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
xmas break reading list (a work in progress) - update
1.
2.
3.
4. Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg
5. The Dream Songs - John Berryman
6. Roald Dahl's Skin and other Stories
7. something magical = L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
xmas break reading list (a work in progress) - update
1. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson
2. John Steinbeck - The Chrysanthemums andCannery Row
3.Aldous Huxley - Brave New World
4. Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg
5. The Dream Songs - John Berryman
6. Roald Dahl's Skin and other Stories
2. John Steinbeck - The Chrysanthemums and
3.
4. Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg
5. The Dream Songs - John Berryman
6. Roald Dahl's Skin and other Stories
Monday, December 28, 2009
waiting with the dead
"drive through 4,000 luminaries, Dec. 18th, dusk till dawn" read the banner hanging outside the cemetery across the street from our apartment. with every square inch lit up other than the usual path through the gravestones, grass and decor, we entered at the beginning to a "turn off lights" sign, followed the orders, and began our nighttime journey. i didn't count the lights myself, but i believe the number: luminaries surrounded our car in every direction, laid out in such compact rows that it was easy to forget you were still just driving through a cemetery and not transcending into the gates of heaven; there was an intensely strange peacefulness about the entire atmosphere. my photographic tendencies of course wanted to capture the sight, but i've always found it awkward taking a photo of nothing more than small bundles of light in a pitch black setting. i told anthony to slow down the car and snapped a few here and there, sometimes resting the camera on the dashboard for stability, but the 50 iso film loaded in my camera at the time was not cooperating, nor should i have expected it to. i knew this would require a long exposure, and with nothing but me and my camera - no tripod, cable release, or helpful accessory of any kind - i knew some old-fashioned waiting was called for, too.
then i got out of the car.
at first a wave of realization hit me: i was, no matter how i looked at it, standing in the middle of a graveyard at night. it was cold. i wasn't properly dressed for the occasion. i positioned myself on the nearby curb, held the camera against the ground and, with both hands mounted, pushed the shutter release.
then the waiting sank in.
what felt like a few minutes went by and the shutter still hadn't closed. the camera in hand was my lc-a, and i sat there waiting for the infamous second click only to have 2 cars pass by my lens before finally giving up.
streaking headlights on my half-attempted long exposure
now, i didn't want a 5 minute long exposure that was simply blurred with car lights and motion; however, i didn't want to wait the 5 minutes regardless. i tried it again.
more headlights
no luck. there were too many cars passing by, and their presence started making me uneasy: did they think i was crazy, as they passed by our car and saw a young girl hunched over on the ground a few feet away? i got back in the car and we drove on.
at this point, i reached for another camera - my canon - and decided that the faster, black & white film loaded in this somewhat more professional camera would make for a better weapon at this point. i took a couple shots, never waiting any longer than 10 seconds (and that's at an exagerrated most), hopped back in the car, and continued along the ride feeling strangely unsatisfied.
my black & white stand-in...just not good enough
it wasn't that i didn't think the shots would turn out - in fact i felt pretty confident that they'd be as good as it could get; it was the disappointment i felt in myself for not being able to wait for the others. i blamed it on the passing cars, but i knew somewhere in me that their presence was simply a relief of my duty of sitting there, waiting for that second click.
we finished the route, drove across the street to our home, and turned the engine off. then i thought of something.
solution?
"would it be weird if i took a long exposure by steadying the camera on those coffins over there?" i asked.
"i'm pretty sure no one's in them" replied anthony.
"yeah..."
i had noticed this strange and random group of coffins a few days earlier, maybe 2 or 3 different styles of them, sitting in a bundle near the end of the cemetery closest to our house; i had even taken a couple shots of them, 1 of which made it into my 100 photo challenge set. i saw them off in the distance that evening, and beyond them saw the sea of luminaries in one perfectly centered frame. i marched fearlessly across the street, reached my destination, pulled out my lc-a, and began the inevitable.
i placed the lc-a on top of one of the goldish caskets, steadied it in between my right and my left hand, and pressed the shutter button.
and then i waited.
the seconds quickly began stretching themselves out, expanding so that each passing one seemed to increase exponentially. i tried counting them, an instinctual way to hurry the clock and distract myself, but the lengthening time of each wouldn't let me keep a steady rhythm and i quickly lost track of what i was doing.
i thought about my friend jeff and his project that i am so shamefully taking part in, as i sat there squirming and fidgeting and hardly able to wait for one lousy long exposure, despite my usual stubbornness and need to complete what i set my mind at doing.
i thought about ipdegirl and her blog post that i had read earlier that day in which she talked about waiting in traffic with her kids before kismetly arriving home to find an invitation from "the art of waiting" project. i had laughed to myself at such fate of hers, and commended her mentally for her patience with herself and her kids. and now i was sitting on a coffin in the dark and could hardly stand myself, desperately trying to ignore my desire to let go and walk home.
i thought about the person that may or may not end up in this heavy object that i was currently placing my weight on, and wondered what they'd think of my doings; would they feel excited to have indirectly taken part in my goal, that my actions were necessary or even noble, some sort of divine photographic blessing from an analogue soul? i heard a voice off in the distance and tilted my head slightly, trying to imagine the possibility of it coming from beneath the lid below me.
i thought about the albino pac man frog i once had when i was younger, and how the loss of him was so devastating that i'd had him cremated at the very same place that i was standing.
i thought about all of my thoughts collectively, and about my decision to steady the camera with both hands rather than leaving 1 free so that i could write down such thoughts rather than digging for mental loopholes as to how i could remember all of them by the time i got home.
and then, "click."
what came from me then can only be described as ecstatic glee. i was standing in a cemetery late at night, in the dark, poorly dressed, leaning on a coffin, and laughing like a hysterical madwoman. i practically skipped home, camera in hand, my boyfriend trailing behind thinking god know's what. i frantically grabbed my journal and wrote down as many notes as i could before having to rush off to make it on time to a date we had with some friends.
.......
today i developed my film.
my victory shot, including the shadow of me and my camera
i now have a long-exposure shot that i can truly be proud of. i am ready for the next one. i am ready for the new year. and i am ready to wait.
then i got out of the car.
at first a wave of realization hit me: i was, no matter how i looked at it, standing in the middle of a graveyard at night. it was cold. i wasn't properly dressed for the occasion. i positioned myself on the nearby curb, held the camera against the ground and, with both hands mounted, pushed the shutter release.
then the waiting sank in.
what felt like a few minutes went by and the shutter still hadn't closed. the camera in hand was my lc-a, and i sat there waiting for the infamous second click only to have 2 cars pass by my lens before finally giving up.
streaking headlights on my half-attempted long exposure
now, i didn't want a 5 minute long exposure that was simply blurred with car lights and motion; however, i didn't want to wait the 5 minutes regardless. i tried it again.
more headlights
no luck. there were too many cars passing by, and their presence started making me uneasy: did they think i was crazy, as they passed by our car and saw a young girl hunched over on the ground a few feet away? i got back in the car and we drove on.
at this point, i reached for another camera - my canon - and decided that the faster, black & white film loaded in this somewhat more professional camera would make for a better weapon at this point. i took a couple shots, never waiting any longer than 10 seconds (and that's at an exagerrated most), hopped back in the car, and continued along the ride feeling strangely unsatisfied.
my black & white stand-in...just not good enough
it wasn't that i didn't think the shots would turn out - in fact i felt pretty confident that they'd be as good as it could get; it was the disappointment i felt in myself for not being able to wait for the others. i blamed it on the passing cars, but i knew somewhere in me that their presence was simply a relief of my duty of sitting there, waiting for that second click.
we finished the route, drove across the street to our home, and turned the engine off. then i thought of something.
solution?
"would it be weird if i took a long exposure by steadying the camera on those coffins over there?" i asked.
"i'm pretty sure no one's in them" replied anthony.
"yeah..."
i had noticed this strange and random group of coffins a few days earlier, maybe 2 or 3 different styles of them, sitting in a bundle near the end of the cemetery closest to our house; i had even taken a couple shots of them, 1 of which made it into my 100 photo challenge set. i saw them off in the distance that evening, and beyond them saw the sea of luminaries in one perfectly centered frame. i marched fearlessly across the street, reached my destination, pulled out my lc-a, and began the inevitable.
i placed the lc-a on top of one of the goldish caskets, steadied it in between my right and my left hand, and pressed the shutter button.
and then i waited.
the seconds quickly began stretching themselves out, expanding so that each passing one seemed to increase exponentially. i tried counting them, an instinctual way to hurry the clock and distract myself, but the lengthening time of each wouldn't let me keep a steady rhythm and i quickly lost track of what i was doing.
i thought about my friend jeff and his project that i am so shamefully taking part in, as i sat there squirming and fidgeting and hardly able to wait for one lousy long exposure, despite my usual stubbornness and need to complete what i set my mind at doing.
i thought about ipdegirl and her blog post that i had read earlier that day in which she talked about waiting in traffic with her kids before kismetly arriving home to find an invitation from "the art of waiting" project. i had laughed to myself at such fate of hers, and commended her mentally for her patience with herself and her kids. and now i was sitting on a coffin in the dark and could hardly stand myself, desperately trying to ignore my desire to let go and walk home.
i thought about the person that may or may not end up in this heavy object that i was currently placing my weight on, and wondered what they'd think of my doings; would they feel excited to have indirectly taken part in my goal, that my actions were necessary or even noble, some sort of divine photographic blessing from an analogue soul? i heard a voice off in the distance and tilted my head slightly, trying to imagine the possibility of it coming from beneath the lid below me.
i thought about the albino pac man frog i once had when i was younger, and how the loss of him was so devastating that i'd had him cremated at the very same place that i was standing.
i thought about all of my thoughts collectively, and about my decision to steady the camera with both hands rather than leaving 1 free so that i could write down such thoughts rather than digging for mental loopholes as to how i could remember all of them by the time i got home.
and then, "click."
what came from me then can only be described as ecstatic glee. i was standing in a cemetery late at night, in the dark, poorly dressed, leaning on a coffin, and laughing like a hysterical madwoman. i practically skipped home, camera in hand, my boyfriend trailing behind thinking god know's what. i frantically grabbed my journal and wrote down as many notes as i could before having to rush off to make it on time to a date we had with some friends.
.......
today i developed my film.
my victory shot, including the shadow of me and my camera
i now have a long-exposure shot that i can truly be proud of. i am ready for the next one. i am ready for the new year. and i am ready to wait.
success
there is no greater feeling than doing things you planned on doing, when you planned on doing them.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
playing dress-up: new yorkers
somebody get Mr. DeMille.
practicing his taxi hail.
a little light reading.
a quick touch-up.
contemplating my next artistic move.
the camera loves you, dahling.
new york, here we come...
...that is, if they let us in.
preppin the tresses.
composing himself.
a little light reading.
a quick touch-up.
contemplating my next artistic move.
the camera loves you, dahling.
new york, here we come...
...that is, if they let us in.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
merry christmas
we all got everything we wanted...
...maybe even a little catnip, too.
possibly my favorite presents!
petunia enjoyed herself greatly as well.
...maybe even a little catnip, too.
the aftermath...
...and some of the glory;
some recurring motifs: all things kittenish and sour candy.
a decorative candy cane stuck in the bottom of boyfriend's hot chocolate.
petunia enjoyed herself greatly as well.
like i said, everything we wanted.
merry christmas!
Thursday, December 24, 2009
xmas cards
this year's cat photoshoot: polaroid style. then scanned and printed in batches (since i can't bear to part with the real things) and applied to handmade cards with witty and/or sentimental messages.
merry christmas eve!
merry christmas eve!
xmas break reading list (a work in progress) - update
1. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson
2. some John Steinbeck short stories or Cannery Row
3.Aldous Huxley - Brave New World
4. Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg
5. The Dream Songs - John Berryman
6. something magical
2. some John Steinbeck short stories or Cannery Row
3.
4. Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg
5. The Dream Songs - John Berryman
6. something magical
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
a day in the life: polaroids
some topics found on our bookshelves include detoxing, Deathnote, a meditation bible, and some alternative vegetarian cookbooks.
i really do cut the skin off of my tomatoes
above the dresser in our bedroom hangs something we simply call our "board." shopping lists and reminders go on it, sure, but also random funny lines, catch phrases and inside jokes, until it is covered with utter nonsense and we dissect the scribbles to reveal the fulfilled and entertaining lives we are lucky enough to have.
this is petunia. she gets expired polaroid light leaks on her photo. lucky girl.
i regret to say that the persimmon hiding underneath the tomatoes went bad before i was able to eat it.
this is my boyfriend. no, not thom yorke...the silly boy holding the magazine in front of his face. i told him to do it, anyways.
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