i have a soft side

 in the evening in the woods on mackinac and in bed in the morning in denver. they are one in the same.

sometimes...

I took this photo (1) in 2004 of Will (Tyrone) St. Onge. This summer, Mary McGuire showed me this historic photo (2) of his great uncle (?), Chief Sitigoe.

1.

2.

island jaunt as the fog clears

my shooting seems to be moving into a much more efficient phase, as i've been spending significantly less time with the camera in hand, and significantly more time gardening. so when the itch strikes, it is real.

today's meditation: patience. 

With people, my energy becomes frantic and stretched for time, and the subject inevitably notices me. When they notice me, the purpose of the photograph changes, because now i must account for the interaction. The interaction become integral--how can it not? I'm inclined to converse--in old school documentary fashion--about the subject's life. But the reason for the photograph had nothing to do with them in the first place--it has a bit to do with me, but not even that. So the photograph looses something when they start speaking about themselves, when they are self conscious, because they are no longer connected to the universe, the unspeakable space, one space of many, that connects one image to another--vision and energy. But not engaging also feels like a cop-out--even though its, "innocent" in kim's words, it is certainly not percieved this way by very many people. In the case of the photograph of the young lady, Miranda, who works at Douds, I had the image in my mind because I love her skeptical face and her frank demeaner. So I went grocery shopping with my camera. All the girls in the store were really freaked out, like I was photographing them for some malicious reason, or I was stalking them, or I was into fetishes of grocery girls. (I actually like waitresses). Miranda was compliant, but self-conscious. I somewhat directed her facial expression, and allowed her skepticism of me to translate as skepticism at the world, the tourist, the shopper. The photograph of the two gentlemen the above is one example of when this did not happen, because the individuals in the frame did not notice my presence. I then approached the man after and conversed with him. His daughter seemed very proud about her father's accomplishments and lifestyle--he is 92 and lives alone still.

With objects, I am working on not jumping the gun, slowing down and realizing that inanimate objects that seem very animated do not walk away in reality. 

I'm noticing that my reality is not concerned with logic, thus sometimes skewed. Hopefully more gardening will ground this.  

girls go wild for vera bradley on mackinac island

maybe its art nouveau meets cowgirl bohemian. im not sure. but every straight girl i know on this island has a vera bradley bag. i think they are cute, and somewhat hard to resist. i'd carry one if i had shit to carry around.

But i did shoot a preliminary model catalogue/look book for the Tourism Bureau,  to showcase the models available to them for their catalogue shoot planned for the first week of August on the island (they use locals wherever they go as models.

Here are some tears:

another one of grandmom

i'm beginning to like this life of gardening and taking things very very very slowly. 

pondering on water, its uses, how we sustain life. 

if you were to see it bigger--

the signs say, if you were to view this bigger, as it is intended, "This waste bin is for laundry trash only" and "Please dispose of your personal trash in the trash bags." The yellow fluorescent light is very interesting juxtaposed with the sunny scene reflected in the window, and one must love these little power boxes with the ghost boat race that relapses time.