the colors of black and white photography

im starting to think i should've named the blog nostalgia instead of catharsis or maybe tangent
since i always seem to be off on one...

familiar sights

when i was in high school i took a few photography classes, i loved them.
i loved the weight of the camera in my hands,
the sense of control i felt as i turned the lens to bring the world into focus.
don't get me wrong, i was never great at it, i was average at best, but i loved it.

i loved the teacher, she was like the caring and free spirited aunt i never had.




she gave me a glimpse of what other adults could be like
you didn't have to be stuffy and serious when you got older.
she was in her fifties, at least, and she had a youthful spirit for the adventure of life.

he totally ripped our idea and modernized it lol

looking back i think maybe, she was really the awkward crazy lady people made fun of.
with her quirky outfits, off the wall antics and lesson plans
 (i.e. dressing up as alex trebeck or her cowgirl cap)
but she didn't care. she was herself and she was wonderful!
she concocted this crazy camera costume idea for the homecoming parade
and talked me into wearing it. it was pretty awesome, wish i had pictures of it.
i danced at the parade and then the game and everything,
which was so completely out of character for me. no, i don't think you realize how true that statement is. im the kid who couldn't answer a question
in class with out falling to pieces. but i did it
and you know what? it was fun. i was stepping outside of my comfort zone and marching
to the beat of my own drum, just like my wonderful teacher..


but the part i think i loved the best was the dark room.
i loved the revolving door to the dark room, it screamed secret spy room to me!
it was great. it was my bat cave, dim, cool, and blissfully quiet.
the sound of the water running for the stop bath and rinses,
the hum of the enlarger, the way the air felt both cool and refreshing
as well as warm and inviting and of course the glow of the red light.
red in there wasnt anger, wasnt fear, it wasn't even the red of passion
it was a completely different shade of red.
red was peace, is that possible?


kinda like this, maybe?

there was hint of magic about the place, watching your photos appear on paper?
yeah that was definitely magic!
but there was something about the place that felt safe, like nothing bad could happen there.
i don't think i have a single memory of the place that wasn't good.
even  the pungent smell of the chemicals were comforting.
it was sanctuary.

i remember my mom asking me, when i was sophmore,
if i knew what i wanted to be when i grew up.
i told her with great conviction that i wanted to be a photographer.
she told me that's a hobby not a career. i was crushed. i didn't speak to her for a week.
she bought me a photography for dummies book as an "apology"
my mother is a bit facetious.

i hate to admit it but she was right of course, i am not a photographer.
i hung that hat up and pushed it to the back of the closet long ago.

nicer version of my camera

recently, i went thrift shopping with a friend
i wasn't looking for anything,
just window shopping really
and i found a steal a Minolta x300 for $4.99
perhaps I shouldn't have but,
i bought it on a whim, in rush of nostalgia
it's not exactly what we used in school, but it's very similar
(i think we used a Pentax k1000)
it came with a flash and mount and bag AND it works
or the camera does anyway,  i think the flash has bit the dust.
the camera is less than perfect, its a bit dirty, and the zoom lens is dented
it's missing the lens cap, but the battery works, so does the light meter, and the zoom,
it had film in it so i know the rewinder works, and i can get it to advance and shoot.
gonna take it to the camera store this weekend and get it checked out
my heads already plotting plans to revive my dark room days...
theres an old dark room in the basement at work its got an enlarger,
or course id have to buy chemicals an such...wonder if i could use it...or have it?... i digress

i happened to have the camera with me when i went by my mom's to drop off a pan i'd borrowed

so i showed it to her.
she thought it was great she sat there and played with it for an hour
and she told me a memory of my grandma that i'd never heard before.

i don't know if i've mentioned this before but my grandma was
one the most beautiful people the world has ever had the privilege to know.
im sure that's how most people feel about their grandmothers, of course...
appearance wise she was a beautiful lady but i don't mean that.
i mean the real, deep down truly amazing sense of the word beautiful.
i don't think there was anything that this woman could not do.
she could make the most wonderful somethings out of absolutely nothing.
i could go on and on about this woman, i wish i'd known her longer,
(she died the same year i told my mom i wash going to be a photographer)
been old enough to truly appreciate and know who she was,
but then again being an adult has a way of removing the soft warm tint
of all those rose colored childhood memories...
grandma's happen to be of the yellow rose variety
partially because they were her favorite but mostly because she was always
the warm afternoon sunshine on your shoulder..


the memory my mom shared, was of my grandma finding an old Brownie camera

similar to what grandma had

that someone had thrown in the dump.
with ten kids they were never rich, very far from it. this old beat up and broken camera, was quite the luxury item.
it was garbage someone tossed aside
without a second thought,.
the woman didn't know a thing about photography, she just saw something broken and thought, "hey, i could make something of this."  and she did. 
mom says they've still got some of the pictures she took on it. i'd love to see them

where was this memory when i wanted to be a photographer?

missing in action i suppose.

its not as though i was ever going become
a photographer, and its not something im particularly  bitter about.
i dont mean to sound that way, though i suspect i sound much more like a petulant child in my posts than i'd like to admit....

i just regret giving up something i loved
because of something someone told me.

don't do that shit kids.

if you love something. keep at it.
doesnt matter if you're good or not.
life's meant to be enjoyed.
enjoy it and all its colors.
for real.
do it.
now.

thrill that'll getcha when you get your picture on the cover of the rollin'stone

the rolling stone has been in the business of controversy since its inception  in november of 1967.
with writers like hunter s. thompson and caroline kennedy its musical roots have definitely transformed into a political soapbox, its been used as a platform to discuss controversial topics like sex drugs and rock and roll. the covers have pictured images of rock stars, politicians, presidents and even criminals.



in 1972dr. hook and the medicine show landed themselves on the cover with shel silversteins song "cover of the rolling stone."

john lenon and yoko ono made waves with their iconic cover in 1980.taken by annie leibovitz this photo was taken the same night john lenon died.

 in 1970, just three years into the magazines run, they gained national attention for their cover interview with none other than charles manson. their prison interview with manson won them an national magazine award.
their latest edition is not immune to controversy.
the august 1st edition of the rolling stone's cover has been plastered
all over the news and internet, you'd just about have to live under a rock at the bottom
of the mariana trench to have missed it. and it hasnt even been released yet.
the august edition features the picture of dzhokhar tsarnaev (probably didnt spell that correctly),
who is the man being held responsible for the boston marathon bombing.

the controversy is not necessarily that he is on the cover.
its the way he is being portrayed on the cover.
some critics have described his photo as a glamor shot.
this depiction of him is unsettling to the general public.
this man in the eyes of many is a monster.
and here he looks human, attractive even.
surely this is not the face of someone capable of that.
some one capable of that, they're dirty and hideous
and have sharp teeth and crazy eyes.
someone who would do that surely is long lost from humanity.
we want our monsters to look monstrous.
and he doesnt. he looks like any other young kid his age.
scruffy face, unruly hair, but clean and well taken care of.
he could be anyone's brooding college age son, brother, nephew, or grandson.
its easy to forget that he is.
its easy to forget the evil humans are capable of.
we are more frightening than the darkest nightmare king or lovecraft could conjure.

the magazine has already received a lion's share of backlash from the critics and families of the victims. and they have every right to their own opinions but the rolling stone isnt doing anything different. anything unpatriotic or cruel. their intention was to strike a cord with their audience and in that they have certainly succeeded.. they are using controversy as it is intended to be used.
to start a conversation. the subject of the bombing is one that hits home for many.
but if we were an honest nation we would admit, many but not all.
it takes the giant hands of controversy to reach down and shake us into reality.
in the world that we live in, we are numb.
tragedies happen so frequently we scarcely take the time to process them.
less and less the question is asked "what will i tell my children?"
we dont need to tell our children what has happend.
they already know. or they think they do.
they think its just another reality show
a  real life csi crime adventure.
this is the generation raised in the nursery of the veldt .
this is why we need controversy.
this is why we need the rolling stone.

out of brain experience

round peg square hole
what am i doing here?
this isnt my world
these arent my people
do i have people?
the cameras flash
feet stomp
and the band plays on
drinks are poured
and the people dance
some one yells some unintelligible
the night that wouldnt end
thinking somebody just shoot me
lone ranger lays his gun down on the table
and goes dancing with his squaw
the cameras flash
laughter
feet stomp
and the band plays on
drinks are poured
and the people dance
i glance at the handle of the pistol
it would be too easy to pick it up
the overwhelming urge to point it at my head and shoot
 frightens me...
it would be too easy.
something dangerous about simplicity.
the cameras flash
laughter
feet stomp
and the band plays  on
drinks are poured
and the people dance
dancing in circles around the tiny dance floor
dancing circles around me
dancing in circles in my head
do you  ever get dizzy?
the cameras flash
laughter
feet stomp
and the band plays  on
drinks are poured
and the people dance
what am i doing here?
is that candlebox?

a walk past speakers corner

one word exercise part deux
today's word : joyous


what a joyous occasion!
such a joy to witness a rare moment of time
history is actually moving in the right direction!      

slow progress is STILL progress.
tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow
creeps in....
so much more work to be done
so much more progress to be made
but TODAY

Today we rejoice!













so 61 words in a minute thats 1.1 words per second
the human brain moves so fast or perhaps i just happened to have
a joyous subject on my heart and mind
so the words flowed quickly
either way i think i've accompished two things today

1. making myself write something
2. soapbox blog 

perhaps nero and sherman werent all that mad...

stumbled across a website that generates one word
oneword.com
and tells you not to think just to write
i took it a step further and game myself one minute to write
no thinking just writing.
i figured one  minute was a good time frame to start with
dont know if i could stop thinking for longer than that
maybe i could  i might make this a daily exercise just to retrain my brain
and increase the time every couple of days maybe build myself up to an hour?
its a thought....

my word was

"blamed"

why should i be blamed?
who's to blame?

what wrongs have been done that can not be righted again?

why is there so much wrong?

cant we just do something right?

just one something?

we're all to blame.
its our shame to carry.

just for a while why dont we lay our burden down

better yet lets gather together

throw all the blame into a giant flame
and let it burn
burn until theres nothing left

maybe we can start again
and maybe this time we wont have to play the same game

sidetracked

i really do need to get back into the habit of blogging
if for no other reason that clearing out the contents of my brain
the theater of the morning is getting quite packed
but you cant hear the play for the noise of the growing crowds

i've had a lot of projects for work that are pulling on the creative side of my brain
no complaints it makes the work day move a little faster but at the end of the day
i cant organize full sentences to write anything
well thats not entirely true.
i recently started a side project as a form of entertainment and
it has sucked me in and played its roll expertly as a distraction
after all it does star two of my favorite subjects
(http://cutefluffythings.blogspot.com/)

i've enjoyed my distraction.
afterall distractions are meant to me enjoyed
and i intend to keep enjoying it
but i do want to work on other things
whatever those might be...

recently finished reading stephen kings book

on writing

i've never been a big king reader, but he's one of those writers thats
so massively larger than life that they must be worthwhile
so i gave him a shot and have been on a king reading binge
i definitely recommend it if you've never read anything by him

in this book, he's supposed to be writing about writing, and he does.
but he also writes largely about life in general
i imagine this book was a cathartic experience for him to write
as it is to read

the thing he wrote that hit my nail squarely on the head
was  the attitude someone should have towards writing
he said:
 "...you must not come lightly to the blank page. im not asking you to come reverently or unquestioningly; im not asking you to be politically correct or cast aside your sense of humor
(please God you have one). this isnt a popularity contest, its not the moral olympics , and its not church. but it's writing, damn it, not washing the car or putting on eyeliner. if you can take it seriously
we can do business. if you cant or wont, its time for you to close the book and do something else.
wash the car, maybe."

 as i neither wear eyeliner nor typically wash my car
i'd say its a safe bet that i need to get serious about writing if im gonna write.
all us creative types need to be bossed around from time to time
or else we'd never get anything done.

one kids trash is a bigger kids tirade

so i'm never sure what direction this blog is gonna go but

as a good friend pointed out i do need to keep my audience entertained

today on my drive to work i was tossing around ideas in my head 

and of course thats always a slippery slope that generally leads everywhere

and ultimately nowhere

such was the case upon my arrival at work

but as i was packing up to head to my next location for the day

a tiny scrap of paper caught my eye

just a little square folded in fours

one side was lined and the top said:

"write a story about someone who takes care of the enviroment."

i turned it over at the opposite side, in pink child-like handwriting read:

"porkypine or a snake"

it made me chuckle

i picked it up and put it in my pocket and promptly forgot it

until i emptied my pockets for the day

and obviously i pick the "porkypine" because snakes are just douches

though i must admit that i had to do a little research  

to find out what sort of contributions they've made to the enviroment

the snake, it pains me deeply to admit, is actually very essential to the enviroment

and maintaining the balance of the ecosystems and what not....

the old "porkypine" 

(how apt the child spelled it this way

as the word porcupine actually comes from

the middle french word porc espin or spined pig)

well they havent exactly been the best caretakers of the environment

turns out they've actually been detrimental to the southeast asian populations

when used as a primary food source that is..

until recently their primary contributions have been as arts and crafts suppliers

their quills being used in headdresses and other decorative accessories

but i suppose in a family of artists when a kiddo wants to rebellious 

they go out and join the medical field

and thats sort of what these guys have done

in recent years their quills have inspired

a new type of hypodermic needle

specifically the backward-facing barbs on the quills

when used as needles they do two things

penetrate the skin and stay in place

which of course is  quite useful for doing important things like 

drawing blood

and thus creating synthetic vampires

without all the melodramatic im-afraid-of-garlic-heil-transylvania stuff

sorry guys guess you're gonna be in the unemployment line...

wait a minute! 

did porcupines just make vampires defunct??? 

sam and dean couldnt even do that...

hi-five "porkypines"!!

er...well maybe just an air high-five...

alright so this has ended up as more of a rant

and less of a story...

maybe i'll fold the slip back up and put it in my wallet

and revisit it later

or maybe i'll leave it somewhere

for some other like minded scribbler to find

maybe i should take it back 

poor kid probably got in trouble for not doing their homework...

dear kid who writes in pink ink,

sorry you lost your homework and i kept it.

stay away from drugs and stuff

-rah

p.s. your teacher probably hates it when you write in pink

stick to basic black, its classy