i like to tell stories

in this building, more movies have been filmed then can be counted as well as the sopranos, sex and the city, fringe, ugly betty, gossip girl and 30 rock. i was there for 30 rock.

i did a time lapse of this shoot as well, the room was so tiny, nothing is ever as it is suppose to be or as imagined, shooting all 3 of them in here was a challenge to say the least, certainly knowing people needed a double page spread.

the best part of this shoot is what you cannot really see happening, me photographing Lady A was filmed by the Country Music Channel. so while i am photographing them and doing the time lapse, there are also 2-3 video cameras filming the entire situation simultaneously as well, pretty wonderfully absurd if you ask me. i enjoyed it, other then the sound guy sticking his boom into my shots a few times and the on camera video light almost throwing off the whole second shot, thankfully, i was being a pro and noticed it. i should roll with a pro video crew on all my shoots.

me, as seen on the Country Music Channel:

waffle house
250 clay targets at a premier facility
taught gray how to shoot clays (handle a gun for the first time, ever)
first round of ticks (the insects)
skee ball
air hockey
basketball
enough prize tickets for a toy water gun
go karts
(even a warning of removal from facility for excessive ‘bumping’)
mexican food
pulled over by police for driving downtown nashville without lights (gray)
*moments later, see same police officer in near shootout + high speed chase
hotel room with yet more insects (roach)
hotel room with yet more ticks
2nd waffle house
2nd mexican food
ticks in woods round 2
BP gas station sink showers to remove insects
NYC ER trip for insects

somewhere in all that, we managed to shoot:

Lady Antebellum & Billy Ray Cyrus for People Magazine as well.

an assignment as cool as those IS a vacation to me. i cannot think of a better reason to hit the road then assignments like these, even without the bells and whistles, i just love what i do.

*less then 3 minutes after the police officer let us go with a warning about our lights. (we thought they were on AUTO, oops). we saw the same police officer come screaming by us and stop short, less then 20 yards in front of us. there were at least 3 cop cars, the one we just ‘met,’ another in the center lane and one standing outside his car and next to a red taurus in a KFC drive thru lane. inside the KFC, i could see more officers standing around. then, without warning, i see the officer by the taurus in the drive thru start yelling and the man in the car leaning out the window a little as the car started rolling forward. the car was trying to flee and almost hit the officer, i saw the officer reach for his gun, try to get it out of the holster while also trying to not get hit or run over, before we knew it, the taurus was behind us, running from the police. if the officer had been able to get his gun out faster, i am sure we would of witnessed the shooting. we stopped just in time that the fleeing car flew by us and through a red light, then some 15 seconds later, all three police cars, including the one that had just pulled us over, chased after that taurus into the nashville night…. we went back to the hotel, our night was over.

i have only seen people reading an article with my images once before really. it was on a train, i looked over a persons shoulder and saw my image. the best part of this other story is that i never saw the magazine before or since, so it was the only time i even saw my assignment in that particular magazine.

it’s about a mile course, maybe a little more. i was walking it. i started at station #4. i shot a 0, i hadn’t had a zero station in over a year. it wasn’t even a hard station, couple quartering targets, nothing special, yet i just shot it all wrong. not a good way to start. i could hear thunder in the distance, then the rain started and then the lighting. the next few stations went just as poorly. i couldn’t get my brain around it, i shot the warm up perfect, not a miss, and the warm up wasn’t easy, yet now that it mattered, i couldn’t hit a thing. when we got to station #9, the furthest away from the start, the entire shoot was postponed due to lightning. great, i had to walk all the way back to the clubhouse, sit there for almost 2h, then walk all the way back to station #9, again, to start the tournament, again.

i had dropped 18 targets in the first 5 stations, abysmal. damn. when it started again, i would only drop 16 targets in 12 stands, twice as many stands, for less targets dropped, thank goodness for that storm.

video below not from the above stand, but stand #3, both Sat and Sun, as well as Sun stand #15. Stand #15 made everyone i saw shoot it turn around and walk away mad at themselves, when i walked away from my OX OO OO for a 1 of 6, it took a lot of effort to not throw my gun down and quit forever. a left to right diving crosser screaming across the tops of the brush and a crossing dropper from the right to left on report, both about 50 yards away.

a target is 110mm wide, or 4 & 1/4 inches by one inch tall. the targets below are only 90mm.

“good shooting jonathan” upon me hitting my first pair.
“bad shooting jonathan” upon me missing my next pair.
“good shooting jonathan” upon me hitting my final pair.

i wish i had gotten that on video. it helps when everyone on your squad is better then you and enjoys it. the first guy i follow in the video i got to shoot behind on day one, he was third, overall in the main event.

well tonight i heard an email come in, i didn’t check right away like always. then i heard my buzzer, i ignored it as thursday and friday nights on 9th ave, my buzzer rings a lot and it has nothing to do with me.

but when i read the email, ‘are you home??’ and thought of the buzzer, i picked up my phone, called, and before she even picked up the phone, my buzzer was ringing again, she was at my door. i hadn’t seen her in 2.5 years.

she had been having dinner across the street with a friend and checked to see if i still lived here, i do. so they came in and i told stories while they looked the walls. then for the first time ever, AG happily let me take her picture. she couldn’t stop laughing so i didn’t even really look through the camera or at the images as they came up, the goal became make her laugh as hard as possible, i stopped when her eyes were red and full of tears, but got a few of those too of course.

at one point as i lowered the camera, my hand hit the dial over to bulb, so for one frame, i got this one, 5 stops overexposed. somehow, tonight as i write, this is my favorite.

i make this mistake often.

it was a great 72h in Tennessee, minus the insects, heat and short trip to the ER for the insect bites back in NYC. this was the second of two different TN shoots, both full of small, wonderful adventures. more on the other once sharable.

it was a perfect shoot. too many spots to choose from for the time allotted, a great and seemingly eager subject who has probably been photographed more then anyone can count, a subject that knows the drill more then i probably do, a good groomer, a good crew on hand that all had happy vibes and one photographer all too excited to be photographing billy ray with his dirt bike and in a thicket, deep in the heart of Tennessee.

i want a shoot like this at least once a week.

at one point, he asked if he could get a passport image from me, where’s the slot to put his quarter. i think it was a joke, but he was a hard read, so i have no idea if it was just an awkward stranger moment, awkward getting my picture taken moment or if he was making fun of me.

i stepped into the room we were to shoot in 41m and 45s before my 11m 32s with our man started.

as different as our lives are now, i never envisioned a day we wouldn’t know each other anymore.

this one sorta happened on the actual shoot, a first. working for a magazine in the woods of tennessee, i got covered in what i thought was just ticks, none of which ever seemed to borrow in or needed fancy removal.

yet 24h after getting back, turns out i was covered in at least 40 of these, (yes, i counted). no idea what it was that got me, but they hurt, they itch and made things happen in my body that scared me enough at one point to seek professional advice.

i still think it was a great trip, better even because of this, somehow.

it took telling this story to someone else one day to point out the scene in little miss sunshine and ask me if my feelings where similar to the boys frustrating reaction to a suddenly unattainable dream. i had seen the movie, and didn’t even put it together on my own. i was the same age as the character in the film, wanted to be a pilot, it was all i wanted to do and while i didn’t not talk, it wasn’t a far off mark of some of my behavior back then.

so much reality of it all is lost in the city or maybe i just don’t see and feel the loss as easily as i do when i go somewhere else. the service member walking across the terminal, the service sticker on a car in traffic, a decorated luggage car half hidden by the gate. i’ve seen the images of how commercial flights transport remains. so sometimes, when flying and lost in my head, i wonder if there are any on my flight.

the pics are from the trip to BNA. i knew i would only sleep on the plane if i pulled an all night wake for an 830am flight. i don’t remember sleeping much, but the pictures from across the aisle i got snapped of me prove that i did. thanks GH.

my 25th club picture and another simple yet beautifully designed shell box.

PULL.

the little guy there with all the legs i found on my shirt back in the hotel room an hour or two later. my 60 hours in TN would become or otherwise awaken me to a entirely new level of insects love jonathan experience.

less then an hour later, the same person called, while walking their actual dog in the park, the dog had found something fumbling around in a bush a little too long. turns out the dog had found a handgun, at first, they thought it was a toy, but after not getting too close and calling 911, yup, within 3 minutes of the phone call, a policeman arrived and confirmed it, the dog had found a handgun. i appreciate this call too, i wish i had been there.

the most surprising part of both these manhattan stories to me is the dog, this dog cannot sniff out it’s own toys in a 300 square foot apartment, how did it smell or otherwise stumble upon a handgun?

i invited him over months ago for a portrait, he agreed, but said it may be awhile, it was.

last night i got an email, i had no idea who it was from, it was an address i didn’t recognize, had the simple subject line ‘foto’ and only said, “around this weekend?”

i assumed it was someone i met at some point or someone that reads this site, so i replied not knowing who it was, “yes, i am. want your foto taken?” turns out it was kit.

today, july 4th, i finally took his photo.

At my friends wedding in PA, I met KC Beachy. A week after the weekend I met her, I flew to Colorado to see her again for another weekend. I made some photographs that weekend, but the most joy was had with polaroids, we couldn’t stop making them and kept buying more and more.

The weekend after that, I went to Europe for the first time, taking a polaroid of her smiling with me. When I first called her, I told her I was looking at the Mediterranean and looking at her picture. She didn’t believe me, so I took a picture of her polaroid and the view. Before my short time in Europe was over, I made over 500 of these images.

Then years later I bought my own Hasselblad. Then over those years I built my career on it. Then a few short years later, I sold it one day on eBay.

George Carlin died yesterday, he was 71 years old.

Carlin was a personal hero of mine growing up, I can remember seeing his famous HBO specials even before I really should of been watching. The sharp wit, piercing observations and sarcasm all poured out of the man with a brilliant point of view that seemed so obvious, you wondered why it took Carlin to point it out to you.

TIME called and needed him photographed for a 10 Questions article. I set up hours early and waited for him to arrive in the hotel suite. I left the door closed before he arrived, I wanted to see Carlin through the peephole. He was just like you would of expected, only kinder and happier. He went into a rant about hair care products when I asked him to take his hat off, that then descended into a wonderful moment of he and I yelling the F bomb back and forth at each other till I blew the circuits to that half of our hotel room. Thankfully, I had this second shot ready to go, it was a better photograph anyway. I am so happy I blew those circuits or this image never would have happened.

It was the best assignment I ever had, it was one of my favorite people and it was one of the happiest days of my life.

March 19, 2004.

“The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A Death! What’s that, a bonus? I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you’re too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alcohol, you party, you get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating…

i got the images off it the other day. these were the only two i had taken with it. because wherever i had been, i had no other camera and was bored, wanting to make something…

it has been one of the darkest weeks that i can remember.

the other day i saw a photograph in a book at a book store, in the picture i believed it to be an old love, wearing something i had given her. if this was true, it would mean that during the time many years ago that we were together, the truth of what i was told and what was actually happening weren’t connected. i made the mistake of asking and then the mistake of it possibly not being her in the photograph in the first place.

then today i had the cruelest conversation happen to me on the telephone, from the sweetest person i have ever met. even if i stretch my brain to understand why, it doesn’t change how it felt, i did my best, it wasn’t enough.

3 random events in one week and my life is on a path i don’t want and i cannot do anything about it to get it back.

i didn’t realize this till writing this, but i am reminded of the first photo assignment i ever had.

– make a self portrait, the artist as a young man, “invented by belief; each the author and hero of a real dream by which our own courage and cunning are tested and tried; so that we may wonder all over again what is veritable and inevitable and possible and what it is to become whoever we may be.” – that was my assignment, literally, exactly as worded by the 1st the professor i ever had.

this is my 413 story in 353 days here or 817 in 725 days total including the old site. i started thinking one a day, or at least that average, then the past few months, it became simply making a story better then the previous one or at the very least, make it the best effort i could on any given day on whatever was important to me in the moment because of simply how it felt to make something.

Everyone loves photography, everyone hates photography.

Everyone has a camera, everyone doesn’t want their picture taken.

Camera where they want you to take pictures = tourist.

Camera where you want to take pictures = terrorist.

Love photography, read a blog.

Love photography, start a blog.

Love photography, link other blogs.

Love photography, turn off your blog.

Your camera is a weapon, your camera is a witness, your camera is entertainment, your camera bores me, your camera bores yourself, your camera inspires you, your camera inspires me.

All true.

Photography is exploding like never before. Anyone can make images like never before. There are more images to see then ever before.

Love it, hate it, at the same time.

Pinkberry chooses to hate you and stamps it on the outsides of their stores.

I am okay with this, as 48h prior to seeing this sign tonight, I tried it for the first time, it was maybe one of the most disgusting things I ever put in my mouth, so that implies a lot.

a few blocks later, the helicopters came screaming over, he must of made it or they would of stayed for more shots of the results of a fall, i smiled as i got to where i was going, i was glad he made it, i was glad he did it, i was glad i got to see it.

moire is caused when the textures of a fabric or something are almost the same size as the pixels, or at least it has to do with that relationship. i hear the step to correct is either to change lenses or step forward or backward a little. once and a while it happens and there’s nothing else to do about it. i missed it this time, not good. i am sure there is a clever trick to do it on purpose, but doing it with intent and doing it cause you missed it aren’t the same thing.

the girl above, i forgot to reset the ASA from one situation to the next, so this, combined with water on the lens, got me an image several stops overexposed, so hit auto adjust, again and again, see if it starts to get interesting…. not as interesting or unpredictably beautiful as a good old fashion light leak, but i guess its something to watch software attempt to correct. play sometimes equals learning things, other times, it’s just playing.

i didn’t know too much about the subject the day i made these. sometimes i look a ton, other times, i don’t look it all. we got to the location and were told this room and this room only. the PR did a good job in a way, many other articles were laid on the table for my reference of what he looks like and what he was about. it was clear right away, i should of known more about why i was there. in front of me in this room i had to shoot in, were at least 4 different portraits of my subject to be, all shot by a photographer i had heard of, that you have heard of if you’re reading this, all made in this very simple little conference room. now it was my turn, make something, make something better or different or more interesting then those that made his portrait before, in this very room. you have 1h to set up, and 15 min to shoot, GO.

so i made 3.

james was great. really nice, very calm in front of the camera, a good story teller himself as it turns out too. go rent Enron, The Smartest Guys in the Room, give him a listen. he was interviewed throughout the film, on the good side, he spoke of the experience of being included and being a part of the film with great affection. i can safely say that of me, my assistant and james, he was definitely the smartest guy in the room that day i made these. we shared our stories of identity theft and $ stolen, as i had HSBC give away all my money to someone in romania that very morning, somehow, sharing this random inappropriate info with him, made my day better. thanks james. james chonos, president and founder of kynikos associates.

it sold on ebay to someone from brooklyn. turns out he is a photographer too, imagine that. worked for more names then i ever could, that any photographer would admire and seems to be somewhat of a lighting genius from what i can gather about to head out on his own.

he picked the colnago up from my apartment at about 3:45 today.

after he left, i boxed up and walked the contax T3 and panasonic LX2 to fedex, sent them off and hit the deli on the way home. i always watch the bikes zoom down 9th ave as i wait to cross, there is always something to see. guys from the park heading home on $$$ machines of bike beauty or messengers dodging the traffic.

just as i started to cross 9th, at 5:05, i saw a guy come flying through my intersection, screaming through before the red light blinked on, it was my colnago, just feet in front of me, zooming on by, he looked quite happy…

it takes less then 10 seconds to go from 52 to 51 down 9th ave in front of my place, and i just happen to be there for those few seconds he rode by, 1h and 20m after i handed it over. this is why i tell stories.

for the first time in 11 years, i am bikeless. 5 down to zero, #1RN = bicycle graveyard.

they are all garbage. all have been returned or broken.

one panasonic i have bought and returned, only to buy again a year later, realizing there is no other option.

then:

one canon i have bought and returned, only to buy again 6 months later realizing there is no other option.

less then a month into that one, the sensor went, i tried to return it, they are out of stock or i can send to canon to get the sensor replaced, either way, i am without a camera for over a month or i can get my money back and still, have no damn camera.

this happens the same week i sold my other stand by options on ebay.

sigh.

all i want:

10-12mp
raw, fast write time
28mm or 35mm fixed lens
real size sensor

leica has the tech and won’t do it. canon has the tech and won’t do it. panasonic has the tech and won’t do it. sigma of all places tried, but fell short at basically 4×6 @ 300 dpi for $800. sad, sad indeed, all around.

camera makers = dumb assholes.

i’ll save the bigger slr/medium back nightmare for another day, i can only handle so much.

The last time I went, the best part, was what I saw through this window after leaving the show. I still think it’s one of the more beautiful things I have ever seen. Earlier that night I watched one of Marina’s performances, this one:

November 14, 5 PM to 12 AM 2005.
Marina Abramović, Lips of Thomas (1975, Galerie Krinzinger, Innsbruck). Abramović ate a kilogram of honey and drank a liter of red wine out of a glass. She broke the glass with her hand, incised a star in her stomach with a razor blade, and then whipped herself until she “no longer felt pain.” She lay down on an ice cross while a space heater suspended above caused her to bleed more profusely.

When it was over, she got a loud, long round of applause and cheers from those still on hand. It lasted long enough that security had to force the issue to make everyone leave. I left, went around the corner, and saw a few other people looking though this window. I stepped closer and the small crowd of us respectfully watched and kept quiet. Inside, through this plain unmarked window, you could see her gallerist and her lover or boyfriend or husband (I don’t know which) holding her in a blanket as she appeared to be weeping… joyfully.

Another time shortly after this I got to meet her, she kissed me on the cheek, it was a good moment as well.

During this time, I made 868 photographs. Here are 100. During this time I also turned another year older. I have never looked forward to my birthday. I don’t like getting older or marking the years as I grow closer to death, there is simply too much I want to do someday. Today, tomorrow, there is just always something amazing yet to be experienced. As terrifying as that unknown is, it is also quite wonderful at the same time. I am another year older.

Brian Smale – #52

Audio by John first.

Visuals by Jonathan second.

All images April 3, 2008. A 4381 second walk to and from Times Square in the rain.

by Jonathan Saunders & John Hutchison – via:

THE FAT RACCOON – CORPULENT PROCYON LOTOR

1271 Avenue of the Americas – 23rd fl. NY, NY

93 images in 8m 22seconds

11:21:06AM-11:29:28AM – April 11, 2008

My phone rang and I knew it was you. I had been hoping to hear from you and kinda hoping I wouldn’t as I was scared of what you had to say. I knew you had another doctor’s appointment today to take even more blood and do even more tests. I knew you received results from the last blood test today too. I could hear the fear in your voice when I answered. I could see you shaking a little, trembling, and stuttering on the other end of the phone in my mind. Your voice never lost it’s calm yet I could sense the panic just under the surface in your mind through it. The doctors had no answers, they didn’t know what it was causing the problem, they only presented more possibilities of one dire thing or another. They could only take more blood and make you wait, again.

I didn’t really know what to say to you to make you feel better, relax you or let you know how much I worried for you too, so I kept making pictures while I listened to you talk to me through my headphones. I thought all I can do is stay calm for you and not let you hear or sense the panic in my mind, so I calmly kept making pictures while we spoke.

one of the creepiest feelings i have ever had is walking into an airport carrying a firearm in one hand and ammunition in the other.

this is legal. this happens thousands of time a day, everywhere in america.

it is easier to travel with a firearm then it is my photographic gear.

to say i am anal about how to do this is an understatement. i have a permit, i have the registration. i follow the law here, the tightest in the country, to the point that the laws themselves make no sense. i have had to instruct counter agents and tsa agents on the proper procedures.

today i walked from one side of midtown to the other, up madison ave and back again to get a repair made. i did this carrying my firearm as required by law.

if at any point i make a mistake in these procedures in the city or at an aiport, i go to jail, for a very long time.

these are weird experiences.

my gun has never killed or hurt any living creature and as long as i own it never will. well except the time i dropped the gun/case on my foot and broke a few of my toes, that hurt, a lot.

The Big Seafood Blast is a 3 day tournament. Last year, I did both the Main Event and the John DeVito Memorial Preliminary. This year, I could only go for one day.

So I shot the DeVito Memorial event because last year, I destroyed it, I won it in my class at the time, the lowest class, E class. What was so wonderful about this wasn’t just winning my class, I won it with an 84/100. I would of won D, C and B with that score and was around 35th of 300 OVERALL score wise, not just class rank. This was epic and to this day exactly one year later, remains the most amazing performance I have ever had.

So Saturday, I tried again. It wasn’t to be, I shot a 74/100. I started at station 5 and shot a 2 of 8, an abysmal beginning, so I tried to work the mental magic and forget, move on. I did well, all the way to station 14 where I shot a 2 of 6. Station 1, 3 of 6. So in 3 of 15 stations, I dropped 13 targets, this is not how you win a competition. I would finish this year’s DeVito Memorial in 6th place of 40 entries, C class.

I also shot the 28g event, I hadn’t shot subgauge (smaller shell/load then usual 12g = harder to hit target) in almost a year, already had shells and wanted to shoot more as I have no idea if or when I’ll shoot again. I was 6th here too out of 14 competitors. Subgauge is fucking cool, but hard, damn hard.

FITASC.

Independent Diplomat takes on only clients who are committed to democracy, nonviolence and human rights–and those nobody else seems willing to help. They include the Polisario Front, the government in exile of Moroccan-controlled Western Sahara, which ID is helping in its struggle for independence. Then there’s Somaliland, which has been independent since 1991 and is taking advice from ID on how to gain international recognition. “You should be engaging with all groups,” says Ross, “not just governments sitting in offices and embassies.” After a career spent deciding the fates of people who weren’t even in the room, Ross gives the voiceless a chance to have their say–before they find more drastic ways to be heard. – TIME Magazine.

(I may not post more of these as I am no longer comfortable using music I don’t have permission for… or they will simply be left silent. Other solutions are in the works, time will tell).

more catastrophe, i need to stop, i started really well. being that this feels most like a home club, my hopes were high for a pleasurable result or at least, one were i knew i did all i was capable of. i started well, 5 of the first 10 stations were a perfect score, 6 of 6. the other first 10 station scores were 3 stations 5 of 6 and 2 stations 4 of 6. i can respect myself with that. i then went on to lose 13 targets in the last 5 stations out of all the 17 stations. 75/100. absurd. i cannot even say i choked, no mental game felt lost, the targets weren’t out of my ability, some were even my favorite presentations, the fucking flying clay just didn’t break. i have no idea, they just didn’t break….

7th of 28 in C class. for the first time in about 6 tournaments, i wasn’t one place/target out of money/trophy/points. i am slipping instead climbing.

maryland, april 2006.

i went to maryland with L. her parents basically live on the grounds of BWI, it is wonderful, there is always something to watch cross that sky, her mom even works for an airline, perfect.

that was a mistake.

all the images i like best i cannot use or maybe i only like them because i cannot use them, i dunno. i have a release from her, but still, my word is my word.

so yeah, i can no longer see the point in making images i cannot share.

now i know that, without a doubt.

I like this story as the church it happened in is on Rev. Dr. John W. Saunders Place and that there is a plaque in Saunders’ honor inside. I also like this as my girlfriend at the time lived just feet away, so when the images hit of Bill asleep, the back of that wall propping up his tired ass is literally only feet from the back of her wall where my tired ass gets propped up regularly.

That’s the closest I will ever come to sleeping with a President of the United States, probably.

i am an addict.

11/22/07 – 3/30/08 (as of 1:45 am):3442 minutes played = 57.37 hours.

4253 accumulative score = 129th place of 13,142 players = top 0.98%.

i don’t really have any video of me in competition, so here’s yet another day of practice from last year. i haven’t had practice this year or lessons, despite going to FL last month thinking i could do well and losing another competition. i’d like to keep taking lessons, i’d like to keep competing but i’d also like to have money in the bank and trophies on the shelf, these things don’t always go together and neither one guarantees the other.

.the first was a journal page i had done. the person that was bothered to this day has never read it. it’s been 10 years. we spoke one day long ago before the falling out and they asked me if i wrote about a certain situation that occurred between us years before. when i said yes, this person dropped me from the their life. the fact that they never read it, it was unpublished or that it was unreadable online years after i was dropped didn’t matter, just knowing i wrote down something they had told me once so long ago, somehow hit a nerve i will never understand. i didn’t even write about the odd event that occured between us, i just wrote what was discussed later, no matter, they are now long gone. it still hurts. i didn’t deserve it.

.a mutual friend told me this fall all that they ever heard from this person about me was that i did something inappropriate.

.the other is very recent, while i’ve known this person for 17 years, we only became close again this fall thanks to mutual friends and the miracle of video ichat. sadly, it is the same person that told me the other person thinks i am inappropriate.

.one random night, this person surprised me with something special, unexpected and wonderful over the internet. it made me feel loved in a moment i really needed to. i printed and framed up a response i thought was beautiful and mailed it off. it made them blush and that was that. our relationship moved on as always. a month or so later, they surprised me again, i sent off a series of what i simply considered thank you letters. nothing more nothing less, just something to keep our odd bond alive, no matter if it was fantasy or reality, real or fake, it was how our relationship was defining itself. so i thought.

.it would seem i was wrong again. this person too disappeared only after it was them that open the door. it still hurts, i didn’t deserve it.

.twice, two people i considered important in my life are gone, because of something i did for them i considered special, maybe off the map a little, yet otherwise grounded in sincerity, respect and love.

.twice, both opened the door to a side of them i hadn’t known, twice, it was my reaction in writing or images that then made then vanish. i wish it didn’t, i wish i still knew them. i wish i could say i would do it different, but everything i wrote, every image i made, in those moments, felt right, felt good, to make, to share and to give away.

.it seems i am inappropriate.

.i heard or maybe we did speak at some random point so many years ago i cannot recall it properly, but that tape was lost or otherwise recorded over, so i hear anyway.

.the image that sparked finding these i came across because it was mixed in with the minor white film, this portrait is 13 years old, probably this week. i didn’t realize this until figuring out the dates in a random backwards manor. this is how everything seems to come together, this project or that, this letter or that journal, that story or this one.

One of the first things I ever remember reading about photography is loosely quoted as, “You can spend your whole life photographing the block you live on.” I cannot remember the source as I write this today, so many years later, but I do remember who said it. It was Minor White.

I was a teenager just beginning to seek the words, pictures and basic wisdom of those that made the same struggles I was beginning to experience in walking out into the world to make photographs, reacting to my life and the things in front of me. It was that sentence that pointed out to me that where I was wasn’t what was important in making a great photograph, rather it was who I was that mattered. I took this to heart and ever since, I can see no other way of looking.

Certainly subject matter plays its role, as does equipment, technique, the history of photography preceding yourself and the physical location the photographs themselves are to be made in. Many times a photograph of an amazing place is just that, a photograph of an amazing place, not really an amazing photograph. The photographs that inspire me, in making or viewing, mine or yours, are those that go beyond the amazement of the location itself, and bring the life experience of the photographer through in the image, in whatever way, escalating the impact of the image past simply the obvious amazing location.

Part of what landed me in Rochester, NY a couple years after reading that quote was the history of the photographic community that resides there, even knowing Minor White had once taught and lived there had its meaning. So when I was 21 years old (1995) and leaving Rochester, my first home in a way, one of the last things I did before I left was seek out Minor White’s home, a place were even some of his more known images were actually made over 40 years ago, 72 North Union St. I somehow found it fitting that I should go make pictures on his block since I had no block of my own. I had no camera at this point in my life, so I borrowed one I had never used before, grabbed my last 7 rolls of 120mm film, drove over, got out and shot every frame I had in maybe an hour. All walking the small area around what used to be Minor White’s home.

.i’d gone to LA on a whim from NYC. a woman i wanted since college invited me to meet her there, a woman i’d wanted for years yet never been with or otherwise even kissed, yet openly chased since meeting her sometime around 1993. i got there and it was obvious she regretted inviting me to meet her.

.i ended up at random friends of friends homes after leaving her, asleep in the other bed in the hotel room.

.this wasn’t was my first trip or whim like this for a woman i barely knew yet really wanted, i cannot even say it was the only one, certainly won’t proclaim it to be the last either.

.i never let go of hope, it would seem lately, in anything that i do, women, pictures, career, women, again and again.

.i have a handful of images from this trip now so many years ago, even pictures from a similar journey to LA less then a year ago, pictures out the windows of the car, the hotel, pictures made on lonely walks of frustration and rejection. it’s one of those sets of pictures i always mean to do something with yet never do, too many projects like this i ‘hope’ i will always get to, do something with, only to find again years later.

.this is her below, the 1999 LA girl, i’d helped her and roommate/best friend learn some location lights one day at photo school years before the LA rendezvous, many days later after this college ‘photoshoot,’ the roommate gave me this one chrome i made of 1999 LA girl, just as you see it below, this roommate knew the situation, this ‘gift’ filled my head with hope.

.i found this chrome/note from the roommate last summer in a box while looking for some other old picture, then remembered why i had these random pictures from LA that i still hope to maybe do something with. i also remembered why i kept every little picture and every little note ever given to me. the cause, the effect, the story, it makes it hurt less.

.this was the first plan for visitor pictures. 1 roll of 24 with the twin lens out in the back ‘yard.’ there is a small handful of these i need to get around to scanning, finding, making more of and or posting. someday, laura k, KB s, frank o3, mark h, mark r, who all let me take some, will be here.

.but this image of terrence, one of the first few i made, will always hold serious gravity in my brain, maybe it’s because it’s the first place i lived truly by myself that these visitors have become so important, or because this place is so out of the way to everyone i know, that a visit just to get a picture made means so much, maybe it’s because of terrence himself and the person he is, or maybe because it was made just as our friendship started falling apart. time doesn’t heal anything. 10 years can be as fast as a blink.

.this is from an older post, but to refresh:

so thats almost 5 a year, but i have done them as i can afford them, so some years 2, one year i think i did 10. (that year felt great, i think simpler cards, more often make the most sense, or at least feel the best to do to me, but i cannot say i got more attention or work that one year i did 10).

38,000 printed.

approx. mailed 31,000.

the printing only (no mailing cost) quantities at today’s prices:
approx = $9209.00

the mailing of say 30,000 of one just one card of various sizes at different rates, some in envelopes and some not: approx $10,000

so the approx cost of all my mailers over the years is roughly:
$19,000
this is not enough, i know i know, but i do my best with i can afford.

i have had my book called in from a mailer ONE time from a new client, but the PE already new me, so the word new is relative.

in talking to PE’s at time inc, where most of my clients are, it seems almost none of them remember ever getting a card from me at all. now it could be my cards aren’t that memorable or maybe one or two got lost, but we are talking about the PE’s i actually shot the jobs for, so memorable image or not, seeing how i shot the image for them, i would think they would notice, not the case, they don’t recall ever getting the cards.

so i started focusing on email promotion, at about $15 per 500 versus $1000, it made sense and is fun, ideally, both would be a good idea. with email, i can look and see who clicked where, who opens and who doesn’t, who chose to receive more and who doesn’t.

but being how things are, most are blocked or ignored as spam unless maybe the PE actually sees it, maybe that PE actually knows my name and maybe the PE bothers to open it, maybe the PE bothers to load the images lost in the blockers.

so today, 19 clicks of 403 sent after 5h, and those are actually decent results.

it would seem to me, PE’s want to see pictures, either by those they know or those they don’t, it would seem it’s in their job description and that there should be some sort of system in place for image delivery in any form, all be it thru an inept mail room or email box, looking at a damn picture shouldn’t be so hard….. yes, i know, there are millions of cards, millions of emails, but still, LOOK PLEASE.

.photographed a suit today, a damn intelligent one, it was great, he was super pleasant and even joyful, one million beige conference room shoots and counting.

.kate, sondra, cheyenne, sid, lisha, tim, carolyn, will, jesse, amy, dan.

.new(ish) visitors to #1RN, 43 polaroids, these should match the with out you project (50 people), but it doesn’t. you’d think it’d be easy to always have polaroid around and the lights up each time someone visits, yet it just never works out that way.

.william died today working at his desk, he was 82.

.592 miles driven in 4 days, with one good samaritan stop for the guy that fell asleep on 441 heading towards me at 6am. i thought i had seen lights make a turn in the dark to the left, but when i got there, there was no road, he had driven off into the brush and a into tree….

.245 pictures, 131 of which made on the phone and out of boredom in the cab home out the window trying to avoid the sickness of returning to NYC, the frustration of the cab ride itself and wishing i was already heading somewhere else again instead of back into the city.

Quail Creek Plantation – Okeechobee, FL

2/22/08 – 2/24/08

Friday Prelim 9AM. – BLUE course.

Phil Hughes Prelim 1PM. – RED course.

Seminole Cup MAIN Event – Day One – RED.

late saturday night after racing go karts all evening, i had to know how i did, i looked at the results online on my phone sitting there at a chili’s with my aunt and uncle, somehow or another, the 64 was good for 5th after day one. a second day would put me up towards the top or drop me way down, i could still go either way, at least in my class, there was still hope, i just needed to step outside myself and step up already.

Seminole Cup MAIN Event – Day Two – BLUE.

(fyi, i got to shoot behind diane both days, fyi, diane is ladies champion of just about everything she enters, fyi, diane is in the sporting clay hall of fame).

they all kept doing better after a stand or two, i unraveled again, dropping all kinds of targets i could run forever another day, the course felt easier, i felt better, but the damn targets just didn’t break when i pulled that trigger, my chances were slipping away, one target at a time, of even trying to stay in the top of C class. i rallied for a bit and found targets that scared me with their distance, edge and speed, to the point after smashing one pair, a wow escaped my lips, i laughed a little at the amazement of watching them break, and then got serious again as i readied for the next pair and said pull, knowing i could hit it. yet i only ended with a 60/100…. i had a 124/200 for the MAIN, abysmal.

i cleaned up and went over to the score boards, the new results weren’t up yet, but the earlier scores of the day were, there was a 3 way tie of 124/200 for 3-6th place with 80% of the scores in my C class. holy crap, there was a chance i could hold on for a trophy and some $, the cup pays/punches and trophies out to 5th. so i was tied, it would come down to tie break stations and luck. great, my luck with these is never where i’d like it.

i stood around and tried not to look so desperate to hold on or wait around for a 4th or 5th place trophy, but dammit, i want a trophy from a national event already, it was the whole point of this trip, this quest i decided was so important so last minute and funded thanks to a combination sponsorship by my amex, discover and mastercard.

then they posted them, almost 2h after the event ended. we all gathered around and gawked, then i saw it. i had won the tie breaks, my 124/200 beat the other 2 124/200 scores based on how well i shot predetermined stations, but others sneaked up and in with simply better shooting. 5th place had a 125, 4th place had a 126 and 3rd place had a 128.

i missed a trophy by one target out of 200.

AGAIN, unfuckingbelievableareyoukiddingme.

this is the third national event in three this has happened. one position, no, one target even, out of the money, the punches for class and my goddam trophy.

walk to car, start driving, turn up music.

(learn to shoot already).

LA Reid & Steve Bartels

.i had been trying to make a time lapse of all my jobs this year, so much that, this shoot was total chaos, not of my creating, but if i hadn’t told you that, i don’t think you could tell from the images exactly the new found level of hurry and do this, no wait, hurry and do this, no wait, sorry, do this, NOW…… just when i thought i had achieved the fastest shoot possible, something else happens to raise the bar.

.i agreed, i hadn’t been up north and needed something to do, calling 50 photographers everyday and begging to help them was talking its toll, so yeah, sure, let’s go. i stole a roll of film or two from the guy i printed for and off we went.

.not much really happened, i was young and not so bright i suppose, but it never occurred to me until years later when i finally tried to print an image or two and she had vanished as people do, that she most likely made the whole thing up as the next morning she wasn’t gone long at the supposed meeting and we really were in the middle of nowhere. it may have been an effort to connect in some way, with me, and i had obviously been too naive or polite to oblige her, but i don’t think i’ll ever really know.

.i told nathan i wouldn’t shoot till he was ready to go. his readiness is not in his control or mine. that was in november. i tried nathan, i did. then there was drama, delays. i thought i could hold off, i thought i was over it, part of me still feels i am. i thought the $ of it would be easy to let go, that the other $ spent in smarter places would take its place, that i could walk away. this morning i was bored. stir crazy. i wanted out. i paced and paced and waffled and waffled, then i reserved a car. i wanted to see if i had forgotten. see if i could maybe be ready for a comp again, in FL, in a couple weeks, without shooting for 3 months, my longest break since starting. the inspiration for pictures wasn’t here, around, i just don’t feel anything that makes me want to make any right now, the ho hum of life is in the way today. every february for three years this comp in FL calls me, and every year, i don’t go, scared i cannot shoot it well, afford it, always an excuse, each year the same. so this was a test, did i forget, lose that edge of the quest i had this fall, have no money for this, yes, yes, yes. yet i want to go, and now i had a day of practice, in one white squall after another, a ten degree drop in temperature from fucking cold to fucking colder from the time i started to the time i finished, the wind, the snow, the mush under my feet. how could FL be harder then this?

.great, awesome, thank you, perfect job.

.not for all the obvious reasons like client, budget, cool PE, subject, but for more, that would only present themselves later. traveling the day of a shoot with the morons at the TSA that are basically allowed to do whatever they want with your gear with impunity is stressful, as is relying on the airline industry to have basic respect for you, yet it all worked out without incident. there was even a friend of a friend randomly on my little flight from NYC to nashville, weird, but the good kind. the only drama at all was a broken light and that was 100% my fault, i even broke it while telling my assistant to be careful, as doing this can easily beak it, classic. plenty of time to set up, nice people, a good location and a cool subject that actually likes having his picture taken, wow, it was how all jobs should be. perfect.

.the stories, that’s was made this above and beyond just a great day, it’s a long one, i will try to keep it simple.

.months before, at the national sporting clay championships, i shot with a guy from TN that claimed “to know all you NYC city photographers, i was even in vogue.” so i pressed him on it and sure enough, he did. he said “all the NYC city crews like to come to TN and ride 4 wheelers and shoot guns.” guilty, i do. i pressed him more and he runs a ranch for tim mcgraw and faith hill, so he was used to crews coming out and making shots. his name is bobby brooks.

.so here i am a couple months later, in his hood in TN, photographing kix brooks. so one of the first things i asked was if kix knew bobby. turns out bobby used to work for kix too. damn this world is small, this makes for good stories. kix asked if i shoot clays, to which i said i do, kix smiled and said i shot some yesterday. then we got back to making photographs.

.later as i was getting gear packed away, kix came over and asked if i was around at all the next day and if i’d like to go shoot clays with him, even borrow one of his shotguns.

.now that would of been a story, but i had a 6am flight, and with the rental gear budget, flight changes 4 days before xmas in bad weather, the budget in general, and the logistics of it all, i didnt see a way to make staying work. i am an ass of course, now it’s all easy to see.

.i could of shot clays with kix brooks, wow…..

.the perfect job, thanks to everyone, truly.

i like more that when i told her i needed to take some polaroids of her, as i do almost all the visitors to #1RN, she was up for it. so much so that we went outside without our coats and searched and searched. it didn’t matter that we were cold, or that i had already made some of her years before, she knew i wanted to make more, and she took on the mission as much as i did, to make it happen.

i always shoot 10, quickly, guessing the composition as i cannot see through the camera with my glasses on the way i want to, so point, shoot, repeat as fast as i can, try to save the last of the ten for me in there with her. make sure the flash is so close the heat it gives off with each pop can be felt and all the purple dots it leaves behind in the eyeballs will last a minute or two.

then hide them, wait a few hours, then when no one else is around, finally take a peek.

.romain couldn’t stop coughing.

.sondra was not pretending to orgasm or coughing, she just looks like this when we talk about photography.

.you. touch me. touch yourself. return no love.

.made, copied, mailed, almost forgotten. undated.

.skip ahead 12+ years and an email arrives from john. it seems he had a roll or two mixed in with his that were obviously not suppose to be there and that were obviously mine. throw them in scanner, make down and dirty scans, send them off to me, thank you.

11th of 166 entries – krieghoff cup, 1 target out after 100
31st of 183 entries – main, 9 targets out after 300

2007 Official NSCA Results
(click images to enlarge)
21 of 23 clubs to date

100 Waiting Children – The Heart Gallery of NJ

an effort to find children adoptive parents through portraiture

show opening January 11, 2008
Liberty Science Center in Jersey City, NJ – 6:30PM

Heart Gallery

break phone, cry, vomit, pretend you heard nothing.

while listening to a song of hers that for some reason my machine is hammering me with lately in the shuffle, i dropped the pyrex i was washing and it smashed the juniors.

so much for another trophy of life of mine. i never intended to ever actually use the damn juniors glass, it should of been on a mantel somewhere and cherished, i just don’t have a mantel or suitable spot in this hole that is my home, or any drinking glasses. dammit.

i am trying hard to not read too much symbolism into this small event, yet it does seem timely as someone just gave me a set of 5-6 glasses, LM hasn’t answered a call or email in months and seems to have forgotten who i was all together about the same time it hit me how long ago and how far away she is in every sense when i wish she wasn’t…

this is why i shouldn’t be doing dishes, total and complete calamity with unforeseen and catastrophic consequences of symbolism. i fucking HATE doing dishes.

listen to some puss pie and dance to it, i do, but only when no one is looking.

ryan gets bored driving home from cleveland.

i often forget about my nickname these days and how everyone outside of new york remembers my apartment horrors.

i made that pic of him the last time i saw him in 2002 in his studio 600% bigger then my whole apartment, never mind that it was just a studio, he actually had a whole other home. in ohio, and i suppose anywhere that isn’t ny, you actually get space, but to pull off making pictures for a living and living like normal people do with his wife and kids, wow, ohio is neat.

link – ryan kurtz