Rice School

I've always had trouble reading. That is until I found blogs to my liking and books within my interests. I'd say Sarah Hatter's blog is one of the better well written blogs I've found in the past few years. I'm almost done with 'On Photography' by Susan Sontag, and although it is written in a linear format, she still packs a punch with references from the early phases of photography to now. Turning the perspective of the medium every chapter as each generation casts it's vote on what is beautiful.

I didn't notice this the first 8 times I saw this pic, but there is a small and ominous 'no trespassing' sign on the brick school.

Shadow Boy

Plant behind roman shades

Turf

Football, Soccer, and Ultimate Frisbee are played on this turf. This night was during school break and the only sounds were from the wind and distant cars on Park Ave. and Institute Rd.

Under Construction

Fences keep outsiders away while the new Administration building is constructed.

Window

Taken from the parking lot across from the new court house on Main Street.

Girl at the helm

Image painted on the door of the ladies bathroom at the Vernon Street hotel.

Homeless

This man is persistent and he has faith. I've taken this exit (I think it's 12) off 290E several times and I've seen homeless people and signs telling commuters not to give money to homeless people. Eventually those signs are torn down and homeless people return to beg. This gentleman's sign says, "HOMELESS PLEASE HELP FOR ... GOD BLESS YOU. THANKS".

It seems fitting that someone has placed a Martin Luther King Jr. sticker on the left.

Hours

It's important to separate man-hours from dog-hours, clock-hours, or computer-hours.
This was seen across the street from the new court house on Main street.

at&t

Light inside the boat at Vernon Street Hotel

Dave Johnson invited me to an open mic in Vernon Street hotel a few months ago. I showed up after a company party and ordered a really really bad beer. I thought ordering Sam Adams on tap was fool proof. Well I was the fool after Dave told me they don't regularly clean the tap lines. They exchanged my rotten beer for a bottled Killians and proceeded to walk into a ship.

It wasn't a spaceship (although I kinda wish it was), but a wooden ship forged to the side of the hotel. The person who hosted the open mic called himself Angry Dick, but I'll refer to him as Rich. Mr. Rich told me the ship was one of the first places in Worcester used to book meetings, shows, and other events.

In the ship, each booth had the light seen in the picture and the booths are separated by curved slabs of wood. The entire area smelled like old beer and wood.

Unlike the open mike's I was used to at the Java Hut (20-30 people itching to get on stage), this open mike had 4 people play total. Rich, some other dude, dave, and penny. These performances were tossed into youtube somewhere, but I couldn't find them.

Feathers

Fog over Ames Pond

Lights in North Attleboro

Taken at the extravagant showing of christmas lights called Lasallete. I fought to get a good outdoor picture, but the night was too dark for me + my camera. These candles helped my camera out a lot.

Cacao Shells

The decor at the L.A. Burdicks store was off the hook. There were stacks of pheasant feather swirls on various surfaces. This Cacao wreath was the most stunning piece. The last time I've seen a Cacao shell was on my honeymoon in St. Lucia at a chocolate plantation. The wreath is beautiful on it's own, but seeing the Cacao left me with a quiet comfort of knowing burdicks chocolate came, not from a hershey's preservative packing conveyor belt, but from the purest source -- the seed.

Cannellé Bordelais

Alyssa and I stopped at L.A. Burdicks flagship store in Walpole, NH after our January Vermont vacation. This Cannellé Bordelais is meant to be dipped in a hot beverage, but it's sweet crunchy exterior & soft fluffy interior was good enough for me!

We've gone to the L.A. Burdicks in Cambridge and the one that used to be in Northampton, but this one had the most spacious seating out of the three stores. Chocolatiers are really hard to come by on the East Coast and the seconds chocolates (champagne, caramel) and other treats were cherished to the last bite.

Cigarettes and Coffee Beans

I looked around at a plaza in Billerica, MA and all I saw was chains. Market Basket, Starbucks, CVS, Dunkin Donuts, Papa Ginos, and on and on. As I was setting up for this picture, an inquisitive man started chatting with me and asked what I up to. I told him my intentions, and he said, "That sounds like something I would do!"

The man had long hair fine enough to float anytime he turned or caught the brunt of a cold breeze. He had just returned from visiting his girlfriend in Florida, and said the gulf side of Florida looked similar to a lot of plazas in the Mass 'burbs: overwheled with unoriginal chain businesses. In Western Florida there were more Walmart's in one town than in the North East and they had different names for their supermarkets.

I told him I stopped by Starbucks because they were the best option for decent Americano between work and home. On my way out, I saw coffee beans above the trash where I expected ashes with a couple cigarettes pressed into the beans in a couple different ways: one forceful, and the other quickly jabbed in. Both cigarettes didn't have lipstick on the ends so I would assume these were placed by two men. Given that it was an ash tray, I was expecting to see more cigarettes.

Max (2/?)

I remember one summer where I was finished work at my church in Salem, NH and a couple of the nursery workers had left a couple garbage bags filled with diapers. I enjoyed people thinking of me as a gentlemen so I jumped at the chance to bring the garbage bags to the dumpster. The dumpster was over a hundred feet away and these heavy bags in the warm summer air began smelling less like the plastic on garbage bags and more like rot. When I use the word rot I truly mean radioactive limb generating rot. I started pacing faster towards the dumpster and the momentum was swinging the bags closer to me than I wanted. Holding my arms out kept the bags at a safe distance, but the smell continued to exponentially get worse and I was only halfway to the dumpster. My pacing gradually progressed to speed walking and eventually became an all out sprint for the survival of my nose. I came within 5 feet of the dumpster and swung both bags into the metal dumpster with the toss of an Olympian.

But when I took this picture the predominant smell was diaper genie plastic with a hint of the chemical scent UNUSED pampers have.

My sister said this picture made Max look mature. It may be it's the expression on his face. I do know that he enjoys having his arms free to clench his fists or dangle them as you see here while he's rested in his mothers arms.

Max (1/?)

Having one child and the potential complications that go along with graduating that child into an unpredictable world in a predictable space takes more effort than I anticipated. I figured raising and living with my child would be difficult but rewarding. In reality the difficulty comes from me stretching to understand pain expressed in a quiet but far reaching cry. Interpreting not only my child, but my wife as she passed through moments of what seems to be unending undulating pain in the delivery room.

When my wife, Alyssa, had contractions she would squeeze my hand to have something tangible and physical to hold helping her to endure the internal pain of active labor. I was fortunate enough to see a chart of each contraction that would spike when Alyssa's contraction peaked in intensity (Alyssa would clench my fist during this period) and flatten out when the contraction neared it's end, tying me in a profound way to the initial and painful sacrifice necessary for birth. I mistakenly figured the times between contractions were times for Alyssa to rest free of discomfort.

When Max was born, I looked forward to performing an amazing rite -- watching a child clench it's fist on my finger. The feeling is always surprising to me because I get to understand the contrast between soft fresh skin and the force coming from a newborn's hand over an inch of space.

Shrooms (1/2)

Just before my mother's birthday party, I used these baby bellas to fill an empañada along with steamed asparagus, bree, and a red wine sauce. I learned a couple things from this culinary adventure: 1) let the expert (my wife) take care of making the dough, and 2) make the empañada as large as possible. Unfortunately the dough doubled in size and was more than a mouth full leaving the inside ingredients in the unnoticeable background.

Shrooms (2/2)

No Parking on campus!!!!

Since I've graduated college, I figured I'd never go back to school. Strangely enough, last tuesday I was trolling around, registering for a class, and talking to a communications department adviser. Yep. I'm going to try to use some of the credits I have towards a communications degree with a concentration in video. Watch out J.J. Abrams!!! :)

I honestly have no clue where these courses will lead me. The decision came after talking to the many editors at my company (Avid), and hearing their horror stories + other amazing tales of editing experiences. It's strange but not surprising how every bad story seemed to result from some miscommunication between the editor and their customer. In the end, each editor loved what they did and could not end the day without editing a video project. I've tested the main editing software, called Media Composer, for 6 months, and I've can see why they enjoy editing so much.

I've only been to one class, but I've realized if someone gave me a book and asked that it be translated to video, I'd give them a goofy stare and wouldn't know where to begin. I hope to learn and get past the painful first steps of speaking through video and reach my coworkers level of artistry in editing.

Now I still love photography, and Fitchburg State is awesome for encouraging me to take other communications courses. After I rack up a decent amount of video classes, I'll be taking a stab at learning their take on photography.

After registering and signing up for a class, I kept having to check my car to make sure I dodged getting a parking ticket until I got my parking pass. The 'no parking' signs posted about the perimeter of the campus dimmed the energy I gathered from walking around the Fitchburg state youngsters buzzing about their classes.

Out of Iraq

One of the youngsters didn't like how America is still at war with Iraq.

Follow the johnsons to Oregon

Go here to follow Dave and Penny from Grafton, MA to Oregon.

I've really enjoyed working with them on the photo series, and I can't wait to see their blog develop as they live out their lives farming their west-coast mountain side.

Prayers (9/9)

This is sitting outside The Johnson's door.

ojos (8/9)

We were waiting for our quesedillas, fries, and burrito at Tortilla Sams and I took a couple shots while we sat by the window.

This photo stood out and made me think of perceived reality, dreams, and dream recorders.

Penny's last dream:

"
I was applying for a job at building 19 and as part of the interview i had to eat an entire tub of sour cream. i woke up soooo nauseas.
"

Drink in hand (7/9)

Walking into Dave's living room any given day, you'd expect to see him playing guitar or listening to music. This visit, however, I saw he had 10-20 empty bottles and 5 large jugs filled with beer. He made the home-brew beer himself and showed me the hops + spices and the large containers he used in the process.

I sat down as he handed me a strange tool used to place the caps on the beer bottles. After securing the caps to the bottles, I walked away with my own 6-pack from his personal collection. I remember drinking the first 5 beers over a few days and saving the last bottle for months and months so I could always have some home-brew in the fridge.

Dave's favorite beer is Fraoch Heather Ale or Ipswich IPA.

1/2 of the Root Project (6/9)

Penny and Dave have worked at their Grafton, Ma farm providing food for those in need through the Root Project. Now they are going to provide food for certain residents in Oregon.

I've been to their farm once or twice and walked away with a paper bag filled with mint & a nice juicy pear. They really love what they do and do it well + it's great to see those in need have gotten crops from the Johnsons.

Guitar (5/9)

We went back to Dave and Penny's place after the library. Dave picks up the guitar and starts playing a new song he's written thanks to the influence of Aaron Sprinkle. The strumming and odd tuning sound like something you'd hear around a bonfire just before downing a gooey smore.

Check out Dave's myspace to hear some of Dave's songs based on guitar. He has also written done and performed some ambient work at my 2 exhibits. Nothing will compare to hearing him spontaneously turn air into a colorful mood.

The last guitarist Dave heard on vinyl is Steve Howe.

Search for the sewing book (4/9)

We walked into the basement and I looked around for a good place to take a photo. We were in the Grafton Library basement and the section of books we were surrounded by were all for sale. Dave and Penny had just given me 6 or 7 books from their collection so I didn't want any, but Penny was fixated on one book. It was about sewing. She plans on making her own clothes and quilts when she moves to Oregon.

Java Hut

I've heard from Dave Johnson that the Java Hut is gone. It was a great place to get hand pumped espresso and meet the most creative people in the area. I've seen several shows + there was just show much art flowing off their stage and sticking to the walls that it's sad to see it go. I'll be checking my archives for photo's I've taken of the Hut and sticking them here soon.

I've posted the Java Hut flyers I could find here.

Behind the bookshelf (3/9)

We walked into the Grafton Library through an entrance I hadn't used before. It was a lot closer to the second floor -- the floor with old used books for sale. Penny, Dave and I walked through two aisles then started searching independently. As Dave pulled out a book I looked through the gap left behind and told him to hold his pose.

Later on I asked him what he's been reading.

Dave said, "

I'm currently reading the foxfire book #1, one straw revolution, and ecclesiastes.

My favorite books are the silmarillion, till we have faces, out of the silent planet, perelandra, and that hideous strength.

".

Empty home (2/9)

Dave pointed this place out while we were on our way to the Grafton Library. It either burned down or was abandoned. Fortunately, the cop on that road passed us after we left the shoot.

The Johnsons are leaving town (1/9)

I had the honor of spending time with the Johnsons last Saturday. They are my artsy buddies from the central mass area. Dave is on the left, Penny's in the back and I'm on the right. Without them, I wouldn't have known about these musicians:

- Glen Hansard + Marketa Irglova's and their movie ONCE.
- Elliot Smith.
- Paul McCartney's solo work.
- Sigur Ros.
- Camera Obscura.
- Joe Renzoni.
- Bright Eyes.

There are several other bands+musicians+poets+amazing people (i.e. Chris Altman, Tim Scott, Eric & Hilary L'Esperance, Chrissy, Brian, Raven) they've connected me to and they'll all have special places in my life thanks to Dave and Penny.

The campfires, the sage, the open mikes, the music shows, the galleries, the home brew, the parties, the weird videos, the cookouts, the camping, and all the other good times were all because of you. These next few posts are from one of the last few times I'll be with them while they are in the area. : (

These two are really into listening and making music. Along the right side of this page you'll see 3 of Dave's songs. Buy 'em if you like 'em!

Review on Chromasia

If you think there are too many web photographers to appreciate photography on the web or that a computer screen can't present an photograph in a just way...well you are right. It would take an amazing amount of resources (creativity, selectivity, and time) to move someone with a photo over the web. Enter Chromasia. From across the Atlantic Ocean, David and Libby Nightingale (Blackpool, England residents) have made a website that has recaptured the ocean.

David's ocean spits up old analog TV's and harnesses the simple beauty of TV viewers as far from the their living rooms as possible.


'His' wine cellars makes one grab a wine glass and pray wine spills from the screen.


He's been commissioned, held galleries, and shot everything from street photography to weddings. His work is for sale, but nothing restrains the amount of freedom and vivid life felt when gazing upon image after image from the window of of his lens.




There are several ways to appreciate Chromasia without having the pleasure of having his print in your hand. I keep up with his site using an RSS feed, but I've recently enjoyed the visual shopping spree of seeing miniaturized version of the splendid portraits on his site.

Bounty of birth...

"Take the bounty of thy birth, taste the lordship of the earth from Monadnock." Emerson

Coal

Some buildings in Brattleboro, VT are still heated by coal furnaces.

boulder

Face of a jagged snowy boulder on I 91.

If you want blood...

Just came back from a lovely 0 degree Vermont vacation.

Dave Johnson and I were talking and we think the Red Cross is a big hoax. They're always asking for blood and are always in short supply. Are they really Vampires???