photogrammatical

Earlier this month my father sent me a link to a song called “Lucky Me”, by Helene Cronin.

Now, I get sent a lot of patriotic videos and chain letters.  I am a veteran.  I think that may have put me on a list somewhere. Everyone is very well-meaning, it’s just that I get A LOT of it, and frankly it is largely a lot of well-meaning crap.

However, none of it comes from my father, and his endorsement carries some weight.  So I followed the link and listened to a song that has really stuck with me. I dropped Helene a note to thank her, and to make a long story a little shorter, some of my images are in the song’s new Youtube video.

I encourage you to give it a listen, and should you feel so inclined, to get it to those whom may trust your opinion in a way that’ll get them to hear it.

I think it’s worthwhile.  Download it here.

I took a little two month hiatus from the ol’ blog. I was working and traveling quite a bit, so at least I can promise some interesting posts to come. It’s really amazing how fast this summer flew by. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I’ve been mixing things up over on the main site.  I’ve updated my portfolio with new work.  Some of it you may have seen here, some of it you ain’t.  For best results clear your browser’s cache and click here.

So, I’m trying out a mobile version of the blog and I’d like your thoughts on it.  Most of my site traffic is on desktops and laptops, but lately I’ve had up to 20% readership coming from iPhones and other mobile devices. That’s an awfully big chunk.  In an attempt to better that experience, I’ve installed a plug-in that recognizes mobile browsers and formats the posts for them.  No more zooming in and out to view pictures and text.

You can find me on Wanderlustagraphy today.

Curated by Clayton Cotterell and Amy Elkins, Wanderlustagraphy is a photo collective.  A rotating gallery of single images from a wide range of photographers.  It feels a little like looking through a ‘keeper’ stack of promo cards, except of course, you can link directly to each photographer.  A decided improvement for everyone involved.

An outtake from a corporate shoot. I prefer pictures of men in suits to be a little dark, a little moody. I think the implied formality of a suit, like a military dress uniform or a suit of armor, lends itself to a little drama. But that’s not always the look I need to deliver. Luckily, with a little planning, there is generally time for both.

Perhaps, people get used to wearing something everyday and it loses some of the mystique for them. Whenever I leave my house in a suit I spend the first twenty minutes trying to get the Imperial March out of my head.

I’m sitting in the plane enjoying the last few moments of iPhone functionality. Updates to follow. 

I have a desk drawer where I keep Iraq. All the negatives, all the test prints, my ragged journal stuffed with wallet pictures and dinars. When I first got home I’d pored over the images, disappointed with most of them. I don’t know exactly what I wanted them to be, but I’d felt they largely fell short. I made a small edit at the time of about 20 or so that I’d show to people, and the rest just got tucked away. As time passed I didn’t want to look at them, I’d made my selections. I didn’t feel much like reading my journal either, not for years.

A few months ago I decided it was time. I sat alone in my room and read my journal from start to finish, I spread all those prints out on the floor. I’ll admit it was hard for me, reading my own words sparked a kind of total recall. The images brought sounds and smells and absolutely overwhelming emotions. Looking back, I’d been so young. Young in a way that you don’t get back.

But it’s all a personal history now. I’d left most of the war on the plane, and tried hard to bring back only pictures. Pictures that upon later inspection offer a view into what I’d seen at the time and felt a need to photograph. It wasn’t digital then, and I’d had a limited number of frames to remember by.

I’ve begun revisiting those images I’d been ignoring. I remember where I was for each one, and many of them coincide with stories in my journal. I have mixed feelings about sharing some of that work. The photographs are often snapshots, made by a young man who didn’t fully understand his light meter. Some of them were with a disposable camera. I know now where I went wrong technically. I know now how I could have made them better. Like a schoolyard fight lost, I’d give anything to relive it as who I would become.

But six years later, I see now where my own history was a part of our history, and I think that’s a story worth sharing.

I’ll start with a new gallery on my site, SPACES.

New site, new look, new domain. I trust BOTH of my regular readers will find their way here.