Nelson Ledges, Ohio

9/19/09 Seven minutes into a twenty minute exposure. Nelson Ledges.
Gunshots permeate the air, overpowering the gentle gurgle of the waterfall disappearing down the deep stone ledges to my left. To my right a cross tied with a bouquet of week old flowers tells the story of someone's love and someone else's last hour. Mankind's shadow is cast wide over this place. Graffiti is rampant. I am unable to fathom how anyone could take a can of spray paint to these primeval walls... young... troubled... I can find no reasonable explanation for such a perversion of beauty. This ancient place of stone may seem immune to time but certainly is no match for fools.

If Tim Burton Carved a Pumkin...

...I thought it might look a bit like this. A couple of years ago I did some work shooting leaves on my light table with a single overhead light to keep things simple. The recent rain and the passing of the Equinox and subsequent diminishing daylight hours have driven me back inside. As most of my work is found in "nature" and arranged on the ground glass, being able to move the objects I'm photographing as well as the camera has been a bit overwhelming and exciting at the same time. Of course I can't help but wonder what Edward Weston might have come up with had he more than a funnel and window light to work with when he was stuck in the studio waiting for customers... Oh, if you're wondering what exactly this is...? It's a photograph!

Alright... it's my bike helmet.

Visual Bias

For some time now I have had a sort of visual bias against certain subject matter. Be it a waterfall, sunset or nautilus shell these subjects have been photographed again and again. At the same time I have held the belief that visual relationships in the context of my own personal experience is the real subject matter of my work. In other words, it doesn't matter what is photographed but how, when, and by whom it's photographed.

So, carrying this prejudice against cliched subject matter around with me not only conflicts with my most fundamental beliefs as an artist but also interferes with my ability to openly and honestly interpret the world around me. Photographically speaking, I aim to become an equal opportunity seeker of beauty and whether I'm focused on the fungus laden interior of a decaying stump or the powerful grace of a woodland falls, what's important is being open to the possibilities they each present. Both have been photographed before, but not in this moment, and never by me.

Tularosa, New Mexico

This photograph, from a Tularosa Cemetery, was my last on a March trip to Arizona and New Mexico. It was the 18th exposure I'd made with my 8x10 view camera that day and the second sheet of film in my final holder. While my traveling companions generously offered me use of their extras I was simply out of gas and ready to relax and enjoy my surroundings.

Later on we found our way to a hill top in the middle of the Tularosa Basin where the moment moved me to capture what I could, but this time with a pen and my trusty Moleskin.

3/10/09 Sometime in the late afternoon. Valley of Fires.
A young man plays his guitar and sings with quiet, brooding emotion as I look east from a perch atop the Tularosa Valley. Mount Carrizo looms large in the distance while the sun glistens off the snow shrouded peak of his big brother, Sierra Blanca. A soft breeze adds a slight chill to an otherwise warm and sunny day. The valley's yellow grasses come alive, blazing against the black lava strewn about me by some ancient event, still evident so many years later. Time has slowed to a crawl and troubles seem far away, nearly forgotten in the simple splendor of this moment. Sunshine and song reign supreme here. Even the yuccas pay homage, raising their many hands in worship and warmth. It's hard to imagine leaving this place... so many promises to keep.

Wanderings

“The artist's world is limitless. It can be found anywhere, far from where he lives or a few feet away. It is always on his doorstep”. Paul Strand

This idea is central to my work and a constant source of inspiration as I explore the visual relationships of my immediate environment and their subsequent physical and emotional manifestations. After all, art is more than just something to be sought, found and presented. Art is something we create from inside ourselves... and if we're diligent about the work it begins to flow out of us naturally, revealing layers of our subconscious we're simply unable to express any other way.

Yet sometimes it's just nice to blow the dust off and head out with nothing on our minds at all. To respond to new and exciting surroundings in a completely intuitive way. It's been a while since I've done that...

Time in a 3-Ring Binder

These exposures were made in McConnells Mills over the holidays and are among my last prints from 2008.

I've been keeping my negatives in plastic sleeves and 3 ring binders marked by year since 2004 and I can't help but think that as each year passes, so passes my opportunity to add to another set of binders.Each year's work becomes fixed in potential. With these thoughts comes the urge to try and make up time, to take one last shot at creating something from the passing cycle... Of course that cycle ends whether we're ready or not.

Thankfully, the new year brings with it another beginning. Unknown sights, discoveries and experiences await as well as a new binder, empty, yet full of possibility. Tonight I added my first group of negatives to it and printed 2009 on the spine in black marker. A wonderful feeling.