Thursday, July 22, 2010

7-21-2010 A Time for Jobs, Dogs, and Malign Plant Life















New job new job. In a photography studio. That makes sense right? Seems great. Better than that real estate gig I've been trying to get off the ground. Funky little studio tucked into a shopping center down in Roseville. Assisting the owner tomorrow during a photoshoot with a one year old babychild today.

Looking at a map of Roseville to get my bearings before plunging into the madness put me in mind of Kevin Flanagan, as his house and the city of roses aren't all that far apart. Called him and dropped by. These were all taken on his property. I've decided to work on the "hungry nature," project wherever I am, as nature is most places. Bet I could work on this project anywhere in the world. Quite a thought really.

Kevin is a complicated man. There he is, sitting in his bus. He repairs/makes/creates/rigs many things in his yard and workshop there. My mom calls him "quite the renaissance man," as a cute way to describe someone who never quite has enough time or material to realize his many ideas and dreams. Seems to be a good state of mind. Dog's name was Regan, Josh's dog. I was trying to take a picture of a bird scratching for bugs, but Regan's spittle served nicely as a substitute. Nice enough after she was stuck in the back of the truck with me on the way to pizza & other soul nourishing items (beer for all, cigarettes for Josh).


Monday, July 19, 2010

7-19-2010 More Natural Distortion





















"West of Arkham the hills rise wild, and there are deep valleys with wood that no axe has ever cut. There are dark narrow glens where the trees slope fantastically, and where thin brooklets trickle without ever having caught the glint of sunlight. On the gentler slopes there are farms, ancient and rocky, with squat, moss-coated cottages brooding eternally over New England secrets in the lee of great ledges; but these are all vacant now, the wide chimneys crumbling and the shingled sides bulging perilously beneath low gambrel roofs."
Opening paragraph of H.P. Lovecraft's The Colour Out of Space

This seems to be my general theme for this project that has emerged from No Not Thought. Began with that shot from Nevada City, when the manzanita bush took on a more powerful presence than the sun. An unhealthy desire for life from a numbingly simple plant. There is also a mixture happening here; a confusion of the nature's mindless hunger with the familiar and sinister feel you get when looking at human objects being overtaken with plant or rot.

These photographs are meant to be bizarre and grotesque, and I believe more are forthcoming. As an additional note, these were all taken within 200 ft of my house in Newcastle. Might try to find some of the places Clark Ashton Smith (a local Lovecraft contemporary) wrote of and shoot them as well, I know he wrote of Bowman, and that is right up the road...




Sunday, July 18, 2010

7-17-2010 957 Cardoso Lane: A Quiet Center for Simple Happiness
















For all the years that mattered I grew up with Cory Brinkman. I recall watching absolute shit music videos on his satellite television, reading EGM, and staying up until all hours of the morning. His house is a very simple happy area. Big field. Generous and friendly parents. The most affectionate and well behaved pets I have ever met. Extraordinary in a quiet way.

One of the first things I ever did with my digital camera was light painting with Cory and some other friends in his big field. Drawing stick figures. Chasing each other with flashlights. Not much concept behind it, but looking at the images afterward together was magic. Now it's tradition. Hanging out at Cory's house anywhere near darkness requires a tripod and remote out.

The dog is new. I had forgotten its name, Pepper, and had the startling realization that I felt worse about forgetting Peppers name than I would have about forgetting a humans name. Pepper is a water dog. Exercise for Pepper entails full tilt sprints after a tennis ball, down the big hill, directly into the pond. The impact is tremendous, resulting in 8-10 feet high, 15 foot long explosions of water. I got caught in the splash zone without realizing that could be a possibility, as I was on the other side of the pond.

Also, bees. Beekeeping for Dummies. Tom Brinkman decided to raise bees for the honey, which just goes to prove what I said about the Brinkman household being a quiet center for simple happiness.