The Peak Condition Project in 2009
Plant Based Muscle Building (link via of IOC)
1.15.2009
Recommended Reading
Building Muscle on a Vegan Diet: The Ultimate Guide
The Peak Condition Project in 2009
Plant Based Muscle Building (link via of IOC)
The Peak Condition Project in 2009
Plant Based Muscle Building (link via of IOC)
1.14.2009
Active Play
Describing photographic style has to be one of the utmost difficult things for me to do. The words I choose have to be specific, detailed, accurate and have to be said simply in a non-jargon language.
Cinematic documentation is the title or phrase that I have been using for the last couple of years. (So much for the non-jargon) Cinematic documentation style of photography is taking a director’s role in producing images. It can be slightly journalistic within a controlled setting. We evoke techniques from theater and films such as stage blocking and the fourth wall to create an atmosphere of improvisation and spontaneity that leads to fresh original relaxed images.
Cultural adaptability, storytelling and active play appear to be where our compositional style is at today. This helps us to produce simple, honest, fun and beautiful images.
Active Play is a term that I have been tossing around about how we interact with our clientele during photo shoots. It is a high energy approach to cinematic documentation style of photography. Entertaining, directing, experiential, free-flowing fun photography that creates a connection, builds relationships and places the clients in an environment of trust.
Next time I am asked to describe our style my answer will be “Active Play” to create the images and “Cinematic documentation” for viewing.
1.13.2009
Photo of the Week
Camera: Nikon D70s
Exposure: 0.5 sec (1/2)
Aperture: f/9
Focal Length: 70 mm
ISO Speed: 200
1.12.2009
Craig-Photography 4.0 is launch
Craig-Photography 4.0 has officially been launched. Our new site is about active play, transparency and storytelling.
The newest addition to the site is Elizabeth’s wedding blog. The wedding blog’s function is about relationship building and storytelling. Elizabeth brings her love for composition, timing, perseverance and unquestionably her passion for photographing people to the site. Her blog went into beta mode on October 20, 2008 and has developed into a resource and a conversation starter for newly engaged couples. We are pleased to see it dwell on our new website.
Additionally, we added a new Investment page. This is where we try very hard to be 100% transparent to our clientele. We understand how hard and confusing it can be for customers to make informed decisions about wedding vendors. Simplicity with direct information is our answer to the confusion that many couples run into. We live by “please feel free to ask”, if at any time there is any puzzlement just ask, we’ll answer.
Lastly we would like to thank Direct-Axis for helping to develop our idea and then bring it to fruition. The team at Direct Axis has been kind, professional and fun to work with.
With deep bows of gratitude, we would like to thank you for spending time with us over the years. We are looking forward to seeing where this journey takes us.
Peace ~ John & Elizabeth
The newest addition to the site is Elizabeth’s wedding blog. The wedding blog’s function is about relationship building and storytelling. Elizabeth brings her love for composition, timing, perseverance and unquestionably her passion for photographing people to the site. Her blog went into beta mode on October 20, 2008 and has developed into a resource and a conversation starter for newly engaged couples. We are pleased to see it dwell on our new website.
Additionally, we added a new Investment page. This is where we try very hard to be 100% transparent to our clientele. We understand how hard and confusing it can be for customers to make informed decisions about wedding vendors. Simplicity with direct information is our answer to the confusion that many couples run into. We live by “please feel free to ask”, if at any time there is any puzzlement just ask, we’ll answer.
Lastly we would like to thank Direct-Axis for helping to develop our idea and then bring it to fruition. The team at Direct Axis has been kind, professional and fun to work with.
With deep bows of gratitude, we would like to thank you for spending time with us over the years. We are looking forward to seeing where this journey takes us.
Peace ~ John & Elizabeth
1.09.2009
5 Question Interview Series with David Burke
Elizabeth interviewed David Burke, (click her to read the interview).
1.08.2009
Moment
Current Reading: Ansel Adams: An Autobiography
Current Music: The Beatles, all there albums
Mood: Happy
Sounds: Typing fingers
Smells: Coffee
Temperature: 25 degrees with light snow
Thoughts: Sneak peaks are fun, go ahead and look
Current Music: The Beatles, all there albums
Mood: Happy
Sounds: Typing fingers
Smells: Coffee
Temperature: 25 degrees with light snow
Thoughts: Sneak peaks are fun, go ahead and look
1.07.2009
Photo of the Week - Ambient Art
Camera: Nikon D200 Exposure: 3 sec (3)
Aperture: f/36
Focal Length: 135 mm
ISO Speed: 400
Exposure Bias: 0 EV
1.06.2009
Update
Two weeks of life without the computer screen in front of my face. What did I do? First, I miss you…a lot…seriously, hugs all around. Second, I read John Lennon: The life by Philip Norman. Excellent read: 800 plus pages on the life of Lennon and I couldn’t put it down. Filled up my iPod with the entire collection of the Beatles’ albums and I listened to them as I turned the pages on Lennon’s life. Pleasurable time spent.
Watched my daughter enjoy Christmas. She is 3 this year and what she enjoyed the most about the holidays was spending time with her family. She’s still a little too young to enjoy presents. Nonetheless, she takes pleasure in an empty broken down cardboard box and a pink crayon in her hand. That keeps her busy for days, or at least the next 30mins.
I was given a bottle Hennessy Cognac as a gift this year. I can for see this becoming my addiction of choice throughout this year. I feel like I am cheating on Chivas scotch but I’ve been faithful long enough. I call this year’s addiction to cognac my lost weekend of choice.
Next week I will be installing (with my Father) a hardwood floor in my mudroom, which will then turn into my yoga/meditation/guitar/photography/practicing room. It’s nice to have a space of your own. If your wife permits it, and mine does. J Love you E.
Went to the movies this past Sunday to watch The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. It’s good, very good; this movie has rhythm and tempo. It will move you.
Watched my daughter enjoy Christmas. She is 3 this year and what she enjoyed the most about the holidays was spending time with her family. She’s still a little too young to enjoy presents. Nonetheless, she takes pleasure in an empty broken down cardboard box and a pink crayon in her hand. That keeps her busy for days, or at least the next 30mins.
I was given a bottle Hennessy Cognac as a gift this year. I can for see this becoming my addiction of choice throughout this year. I feel like I am cheating on Chivas scotch but I’ve been faithful long enough. I call this year’s addiction to cognac my lost weekend of choice.
Next week I will be installing (with my Father) a hardwood floor in my mudroom, which will then turn into my yoga/meditation/guitar/photography/practicing room. It’s nice to have a space of your own. If your wife permits it, and mine does. J Love you E.
Went to the movies this past Sunday to watch The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. It’s good, very good; this movie has rhythm and tempo. It will move you.
1.05.2009
Year 4
Year four in the blogoshpere. What to expect? The continuation of rants, compositions, moments, photos-of-the-week, 5-question-interview-series and the occasional humorous whatnots of me making fun of everyday life will be the groundwork of this blog.
New things for this blog and my life will be short story writing, diary entries and a focus on real life networking. 2009 is the year that I shake hands, make new friends and get involved in the Pittsburgh art scene. I will be attending a writing class this February titled “Point of View - a new way of looking at and responding to photography.” Lectures, art openings and seminars will make up my social calendar this year. I need to see more people and less computer screens; we have become people of the screen.
Pittsburgh has been good to us. This city, our clientele and the social networking scene that has developed with the birth of web 2.0 has pushed Craig Photography to greater heights than either of us could have hoped for. With deep bows of gratitude I thank you for joining us on this journey.
P.S.
~ For an update on the Wedding side of our business see my wife’s, Elizabeth, blog (here).
New things for this blog and my life will be short story writing, diary entries and a focus on real life networking. 2009 is the year that I shake hands, make new friends and get involved in the Pittsburgh art scene. I will be attending a writing class this February titled “Point of View - a new way of looking at and responding to photography.” Lectures, art openings and seminars will make up my social calendar this year. I need to see more people and less computer screens; we have become people of the screen.
Pittsburgh has been good to us. This city, our clientele and the social networking scene that has developed with the birth of web 2.0 has pushed Craig Photography to greater heights than either of us could have hoped for. With deep bows of gratitude I thank you for joining us on this journey.
P.S.
~ For an update on the Wedding side of our business see my wife’s, Elizabeth, blog (here).
12.29.2008
12.17.2008
Time Off
~ I will be taking the rest of the year off. Thanks for spending time with me over this year. I will be back in early 2009 with a new Craig-Photography public website and will have new interviews, rants and random whatnots for you to enjoy. Be good to each other…
Peace ~ John
Peace ~ John
12.16.2008
Year in Review: 2008 (Best of)
See all Moments of 2008 here
Current Reading: Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou
Current Music: In a Dream by Peter Kater & Dominic Miller
Mood: Existential Sounds: Random noise
Smells: Coffee & apples
Thoughts: There are 800 million solutions to the world’s problems, and you are one of them.
See all Photos 2008 here
Current Reading: Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou
Current Music: In a Dream by Peter Kater & Dominic Miller
Mood: Existential Sounds: Random noise
Smells: Coffee & apples
Thoughts: There are 800 million solutions to the world’s problems, and you are one of them.
See all Photos 2008 here
Exposure: 0.2 sec (1/5)
Aperture: f/29
Focal Length: 70 mm
ISO Speed: 200
Exposure Bias: 0 EV
Light Source: Cool white fluorescent (W 3900 - 4500K)
12.15.2008
12.12.2008
Moment
Current Reading: The Selected Letters of Allen Ginsberg and Gary Snyder, 1956-1991
Current Music: Rubber Soul by The Beatles
Mood: Headache, is that a mood?
Sounds: Telephone conversations
Smells: Coffee
Temperature: 30 degrees with snow
Thoughts: I need the light to live yet I am in utter darkness.
Current Music: Rubber Soul by The Beatles
Mood: Headache, is that a mood?
Sounds: Telephone conversations
Smells: Coffee
Temperature: 30 degrees with snow
Thoughts: I need the light to live yet I am in utter darkness.
12.11.2008
Photo of the Week
Camera: Nikon D200 Exposure: 30 sec (30)
Aperture: f/22
Focal Length: 28 mm
ISO Speed: 100
Exposure Bias: 0 EV
12.09.2008
Rainbow in a Ghost Town - Short Story
Do you know what it feels like to be a rainbow in a ghost town? I hear this in my head. Again, “Do you know what it feels like to be a rainbow in a ghost town?” Where is this audible thought coming from? It speaks from behind me keeping pace with me as I walk. I stroll into the coffee shop and order a medium holiday blend coffee with room for milk. The voice says, You’re stuck between creation and evolution, no longer a monkey nor yet to become an angel. You’re only a metaphor stuck inside a shell. Shell in which you’re preserved and housed and someday will have to return back to the soil. “That will be $1.87 sir. Would you like to donate a dollar to our children’s holiday fund.” The barista startles me back into consciousness. I smile at her and say yes.
I pick up a copy of yesterday’s New York Times that someone left on the table. It is opened to an article in the Health section about how Hong Kong finds more tainted eggs. I drink my coffee and watch people come and go and think about this strange narrative experience I am having. Eggs tainted with the chemical melamine that drops out of the butts of chickens and an audible thought standing behind me and within me.
I am not you. I am separate from you. I have my own thoughts, feelings and emotions. I am what I am becoming. I embrace loneliness. I am fluid motion and complete stillness. I need the light to live yet I am in utter darkness. I am not human. I am your shadow.
Darting up from my table I go to the men’s room. Splashing water on my face I think about all the times I jokingly wrote about the onset of schizophrenia. I stare at myself in the mirror questioning the validity of this occurrence. I laugh out loud, my heart beats heavily. Splash more cold water on my face, wash my hands with that pink soap that never gets soapy and dry myself with brown rough paper that has no absorbent worth to it. I stand looking at my face. Same stubble on my chin, same haircut, these are my clothes. Never could recognize my own face, nevertheless this is me.
Do you know what it feels like to be a rainbow in a ghost town? “No”, I reply quietly in my head. “Why do you ask?” Not sure. It seems symbolic. A perfect image. “Image for what?” I ask. You; your existence. “How much do you weigh?” I ask. That is the dumbest question; I am the absence of light. I am neither matter nor anti-matter. I do not exist in time, only in flow of motion can I have presence in this world. Why would you ask suggest a question? “Because you have been feeling heavy to me and I can feel myself dragging you around. My own shadow aches.
Rub my hands over my face, straighten my jacket and adjust my scarf around my neck. Three deep breaths and I exit the men’s room. Walk back to my table, finished the article on tainted eggs. The article states: “Illegal levels of melamine, the industrial chemical blamed for sickening hundreds of thousands of young Chinese children, six fatalities.” Why?
Rainbow in a ghost town, that’s why. Perfecting that art of doing something so beautifully or something that is completely wicked. That’s what you humans do with your shells. But you, my master, you take things in. You are a rainbow in a ghost town.
This is eerie. I get up and leave the coffeehouse. Walking down the street I think this is a different reality from normal life and it is standing next to me. My new reality is inescapable; I wish I would have seen a UFO, a ghost meeting Jesus or Buddha or something like that. The street traffic is crowded, the sun is bright, the wind is cold and I just had a conversation with my shadow. The shadow calls me “my master”. Hair raises on the back of my neck as I repeat the phrase to myself, “my master.
I knock into a pizza deliveryman on the sidewalk, stumble off the curb into traffic. Car horn blows; blue Pontiac. The driver gives me the finger. I wave apoplectically, he doesn’t seem to care. Think I’ll take the subway. No tokens in my pocket, buy a seven day trip ticket. I sit across from a high school-aged couple on the train. She is polished; a mature look reminding me of Gwyneth Paltrow. Long blond hair, large black bag, turtleneck sweater, short, plaid skirt with a getting-back-at-daddy look on her face. The boy has that look of growing up in a cul-de-sac community but wishes he was raised in “the hood”. He is too clean looking to pull off the style but I am sure the girl’s father hates him. They look like they’re in love.
No voice in my head. I sit alone on the train unnoticeable to anyone else around me. I think that I could probably die in this seat and nobody would notice until the train stopped running for the day. My body would most likely be found by a cleaning crew. Train stops, the light flickers twice and I get off at Jameson St. and 9th.
Walk two blocks down the street to my apartment. Six flights of stairs to my front door. Every time I walk up the steps I tell myself this is the cheapest gym membership. It’s a small, clean apartment. I don’t have much stuff. Some books, CD’s, one small closet of clothes, toiletries, an exercise mat and a small collection of cooking utensils. You don’t need much in the kitchen to cook a good meal. One sharp knife for chopping vegetables, a large cutting board, a deep frying pan and a small arsenal of oils; with all of this you can pretty much cook anything.
Still no voice. Maybe it is the onset of schizophrenia. Go to the fridge and get a bottle of beer. Drink that down and get a second one. Realized that I haven’t eaten since yesterday. Twelve hours without food is too long for a man to go without eating. Bag of carrots, red peppers some onions. Mix that up with rice and chicken and that’s dinner. Feeling odd and not knowing what to do next, I flip through my mail while eating dinner. Junk mail, bills and a single Christmas card. Who remembered me? It’s from the real estate agent that I leased this apartment from. This can make you feel alone in the world; a single Christmas card from a real estate agent that you only met once. I am a walking ghost.
That’s why you can hear me. You can feel me. You sense your own shadow. Shadows are given no thought from the human mind, no connection to the soul. This is essential for our survival. If you become me, I will no longer exist. That leaves me with no purpose. This is killing me; literally killing me and I want to live, my master.
“Sorry” I say out loud, definitely the onset of schizophrenia, I think to myself. “Shadow voice in my head or whatever crazy thing that you are!” I scream out loud. “Where have you been? Why do you come and go?” I’ve been out in the ether doing good deeds. “Really?” No. You are killing me and in doing so are slowly dieing yourself. I will not be able to speak to you many more times. A life of hopeful longing to be noticed is your hell, my master. No longer a monkey nor yet to become an angel. You’re a rainbow in a ghost town. The voice stops abruptly. Not getting the last sounds of the word “town” out. Am I alive? Did the voice die? My heart beats…
Next, I go into the bathroom. The lights are too bright. Squinting, I brush my teeth. I am alive, I am not schizophrenic. I repeat this to myself as I brush. Music. I need music. I need the music to fill my head, no longer do I want to think. Finishing up in the bathroom I enter the bed room. Clean, empty room, gray bedspread, two books, a bible and a travel log on Paris sits on the nightstand. One lamp and an Ipod connected to stereo speakers. Scroll through the Ipod and decide on Herbie Hancock; the Joni Letters. I lie in bed, listen and breathe. This music is an ideal blend of instrumentation and words, both equally strong, supporting each other. Piano mixes with vocals with horns laced through them. It is a poetic landscape of sounds, perfection, and neither one a shadow to the other.
Shadow…shadow…sha…my heart stops…
I pick up a copy of yesterday’s New York Times that someone left on the table. It is opened to an article in the Health section about how Hong Kong finds more tainted eggs. I drink my coffee and watch people come and go and think about this strange narrative experience I am having. Eggs tainted with the chemical melamine that drops out of the butts of chickens and an audible thought standing behind me and within me.
I am not you. I am separate from you. I have my own thoughts, feelings and emotions. I am what I am becoming. I embrace loneliness. I am fluid motion and complete stillness. I need the light to live yet I am in utter darkness. I am not human. I am your shadow.
Darting up from my table I go to the men’s room. Splashing water on my face I think about all the times I jokingly wrote about the onset of schizophrenia. I stare at myself in the mirror questioning the validity of this occurrence. I laugh out loud, my heart beats heavily. Splash more cold water on my face, wash my hands with that pink soap that never gets soapy and dry myself with brown rough paper that has no absorbent worth to it. I stand looking at my face. Same stubble on my chin, same haircut, these are my clothes. Never could recognize my own face, nevertheless this is me.
Do you know what it feels like to be a rainbow in a ghost town? “No”, I reply quietly in my head. “Why do you ask?” Not sure. It seems symbolic. A perfect image. “Image for what?” I ask. You; your existence. “How much do you weigh?” I ask. That is the dumbest question; I am the absence of light. I am neither matter nor anti-matter. I do not exist in time, only in flow of motion can I have presence in this world. Why would you ask suggest a question? “Because you have been feeling heavy to me and I can feel myself dragging you around. My own shadow aches.
Rub my hands over my face, straighten my jacket and adjust my scarf around my neck. Three deep breaths and I exit the men’s room. Walk back to my table, finished the article on tainted eggs. The article states: “Illegal levels of melamine, the industrial chemical blamed for sickening hundreds of thousands of young Chinese children, six fatalities.” Why?
Rainbow in a ghost town, that’s why. Perfecting that art of doing something so beautifully or something that is completely wicked. That’s what you humans do with your shells. But you, my master, you take things in. You are a rainbow in a ghost town.
This is eerie. I get up and leave the coffeehouse. Walking down the street I think this is a different reality from normal life and it is standing next to me. My new reality is inescapable; I wish I would have seen a UFO, a ghost meeting Jesus or Buddha or something like that. The street traffic is crowded, the sun is bright, the wind is cold and I just had a conversation with my shadow. The shadow calls me “my master”. Hair raises on the back of my neck as I repeat the phrase to myself, “my master.
I knock into a pizza deliveryman on the sidewalk, stumble off the curb into traffic. Car horn blows; blue Pontiac. The driver gives me the finger. I wave apoplectically, he doesn’t seem to care. Think I’ll take the subway. No tokens in my pocket, buy a seven day trip ticket. I sit across from a high school-aged couple on the train. She is polished; a mature look reminding me of Gwyneth Paltrow. Long blond hair, large black bag, turtleneck sweater, short, plaid skirt with a getting-back-at-daddy look on her face. The boy has that look of growing up in a cul-de-sac community but wishes he was raised in “the hood”. He is too clean looking to pull off the style but I am sure the girl’s father hates him. They look like they’re in love.
No voice in my head. I sit alone on the train unnoticeable to anyone else around me. I think that I could probably die in this seat and nobody would notice until the train stopped running for the day. My body would most likely be found by a cleaning crew. Train stops, the light flickers twice and I get off at Jameson St. and 9th.
Walk two blocks down the street to my apartment. Six flights of stairs to my front door. Every time I walk up the steps I tell myself this is the cheapest gym membership. It’s a small, clean apartment. I don’t have much stuff. Some books, CD’s, one small closet of clothes, toiletries, an exercise mat and a small collection of cooking utensils. You don’t need much in the kitchen to cook a good meal. One sharp knife for chopping vegetables, a large cutting board, a deep frying pan and a small arsenal of oils; with all of this you can pretty much cook anything.
Still no voice. Maybe it is the onset of schizophrenia. Go to the fridge and get a bottle of beer. Drink that down and get a second one. Realized that I haven’t eaten since yesterday. Twelve hours without food is too long for a man to go without eating. Bag of carrots, red peppers some onions. Mix that up with rice and chicken and that’s dinner. Feeling odd and not knowing what to do next, I flip through my mail while eating dinner. Junk mail, bills and a single Christmas card. Who remembered me? It’s from the real estate agent that I leased this apartment from. This can make you feel alone in the world; a single Christmas card from a real estate agent that you only met once. I am a walking ghost.
That’s why you can hear me. You can feel me. You sense your own shadow. Shadows are given no thought from the human mind, no connection to the soul. This is essential for our survival. If you become me, I will no longer exist. That leaves me with no purpose. This is killing me; literally killing me and I want to live, my master.
“Sorry” I say out loud, definitely the onset of schizophrenia, I think to myself. “Shadow voice in my head or whatever crazy thing that you are!” I scream out loud. “Where have you been? Why do you come and go?” I’ve been out in the ether doing good deeds. “Really?” No. You are killing me and in doing so are slowly dieing yourself. I will not be able to speak to you many more times. A life of hopeful longing to be noticed is your hell, my master. No longer a monkey nor yet to become an angel. You’re a rainbow in a ghost town. The voice stops abruptly. Not getting the last sounds of the word “town” out. Am I alive? Did the voice die? My heart beats…
Next, I go into the bathroom. The lights are too bright. Squinting, I brush my teeth. I am alive, I am not schizophrenic. I repeat this to myself as I brush. Music. I need music. I need the music to fill my head, no longer do I want to think. Finishing up in the bathroom I enter the bed room. Clean, empty room, gray bedspread, two books, a bible and a travel log on Paris sits on the nightstand. One lamp and an Ipod connected to stereo speakers. Scroll through the Ipod and decide on Herbie Hancock; the Joni Letters. I lie in bed, listen and breathe. This music is an ideal blend of instrumentation and words, both equally strong, supporting each other. Piano mixes with vocals with horns laced through them. It is a poetic landscape of sounds, perfection, and neither one a shadow to the other.
Shadow…shadow…sha…my heart stops…
12.08.2008
Recommended Reading & Viewing
Writing a short story today. No time to blog so here are some blog post for you to enjoy.
We have met the enemy – Friedman & Liebert
Donna & James by Elizabeth Craig
Apocalypse Not by Stuart Davis
Yellow is crazy hot by Matthew Dallman
We have met the enemy – Friedman & Liebert
Donna & James by Elizabeth Craig
Apocalypse Not by Stuart Davis
Yellow is crazy hot by Matthew Dallman
12.04.2008
Moment
Current Reading: Never Cry Jack by Kit Anderson
Current Music: Red Letter Year by Ani Difranco
Mood: Sleepy, yes it a mood
Sounds: Rain
Smells: Coffee
Temperature: 43 degrees with rain
Thoughts: Stuck between creation and evolution, no longer am I a monkey nor I have yet to become an angle.
Current Music: Red Letter Year by Ani Difranco
Mood: Sleepy, yes it a mood
Sounds: Rain
Smells: Coffee
Temperature: 43 degrees with rain
Thoughts: Stuck between creation and evolution, no longer am I a monkey nor I have yet to become an angle.
12.03.2008
12.02.2008
Photo of the Week
Camera: Nikon D200
Exposure: 28 sec (28)
Aperture: f/29
Focal Length: 46 mm
ISO Speed: 100
12.01.2008
God Damn It, You've Got To Be Kind.
I have been sitting with these thoughts for a week. Here goes.
A Senator is seated to my left, a legislator is sitting to my right and a novelist sits across the table from me. I am drinking bottled beer, the Senator is drinking black coffee and the legislator is having a gin and tonic, the novelist does not have a drink although he is jotting something down in his moleskin journal. We share a dinner of salmon, chicken and green beans. The conversation covers “where are you from”, “how did you get here”, “what camera should I buy?” and “how do you know when you have a balanced and educated understanding of the what-nots of this world?”
Earlier in the day my wife and I had the opportunity to spend time with the girls of San Mar Children’s home. “I don’t know what each of their stories are, but I can tell you that the resilience I saw in each of their eyes was a profound lesson in love and forgiveness.” You can read the rest of my wife’s thoughts on our day here; she was the one that gave us the opportunity.
When leaving the home and saying our goodbyes, one girl stopped us and said, “thank you for really showing up.” The word “really” broke my heart and, at the same time, made me a better person. Kurt Vonnegut said, “There's only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you've got to be kind.” As I write this there is a crowd in California that is picketing and protesting the legalization of gay marriage. One thousand pages in the bible on serving the poor and less fortunate and they pick the 4 vague sentences to stage a protest. Wonder how many homeless people they passed on their way to the protest.
Sitting at dinner I was able to ask the Senator all my questions about the political state of affairs. He was kind, politically correct and respectful with his responses. He answered, “No, I do not know Obama or McCain”, “Yes, I feel the same about Palin”, “Things are bad but the financial environment of 1991 was worse”, “People are good on both sides of the aisle, most of them”, “That’s never been asked of me.” At this point I am screaming quietly in my head.
The legislator makes remarks on the 1960’s, peace core and why she became an activist for the disabled. They serve us pie. I have pumpkin, it was good. The legislator looks like an earthy Meryl Streep to me. She tells me, “the Senator and I don’t share the same views but I like him.” I lean over to her and say, “I also chose hope.” We giggled. Then she proceeds to tell me about the best grass fed steak she ever had. “The beef was grown in Kansas, flat land not many trees, but they can place a tasty steak on your dinner plate. Plus no vegetable; just steak and a large potato.” I’m stuck on the word “grown”. At least it was grass fed. She was kind to me. Her husband leans over to me and tells me that he loves the bridges of Pittsburgh. “I have a print in my kitchen.” The legislator said, “that’s Pittsburgh? I thought it was somewhere in England or France.” I hope she still enjoys the print. I talk about my previous evening trying to photograph the not-so-light-up-night in Pittsburgh.
The Senator chimes in, “John, on your last question, I was giving it some thought. It works the same way for us in the Senate as it does for you. We try our best with the information we have.”
That’s it… that is how our Government works. I look up at the novelist, he seems uninterested in the conversation. He likes pie – he is on his third slice of apple.
This is the thought that has been ringing in my head for a week:
We try our best with the information we have - God damn it, you've got to be kind. Really.
A Senator is seated to my left, a legislator is sitting to my right and a novelist sits across the table from me. I am drinking bottled beer, the Senator is drinking black coffee and the legislator is having a gin and tonic, the novelist does not have a drink although he is jotting something down in his moleskin journal. We share a dinner of salmon, chicken and green beans. The conversation covers “where are you from”, “how did you get here”, “what camera should I buy?” and “how do you know when you have a balanced and educated understanding of the what-nots of this world?”
Earlier in the day my wife and I had the opportunity to spend time with the girls of San Mar Children’s home. “I don’t know what each of their stories are, but I can tell you that the resilience I saw in each of their eyes was a profound lesson in love and forgiveness.” You can read the rest of my wife’s thoughts on our day here; she was the one that gave us the opportunity.
When leaving the home and saying our goodbyes, one girl stopped us and said, “thank you for really showing up.” The word “really” broke my heart and, at the same time, made me a better person. Kurt Vonnegut said, “There's only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you've got to be kind.” As I write this there is a crowd in California that is picketing and protesting the legalization of gay marriage. One thousand pages in the bible on serving the poor and less fortunate and they pick the 4 vague sentences to stage a protest. Wonder how many homeless people they passed on their way to the protest.
Sitting at dinner I was able to ask the Senator all my questions about the political state of affairs. He was kind, politically correct and respectful with his responses. He answered, “No, I do not know Obama or McCain”, “Yes, I feel the same about Palin”, “Things are bad but the financial environment of 1991 was worse”, “People are good on both sides of the aisle, most of them”, “That’s never been asked of me.” At this point I am screaming quietly in my head.
The legislator makes remarks on the 1960’s, peace core and why she became an activist for the disabled. They serve us pie. I have pumpkin, it was good. The legislator looks like an earthy Meryl Streep to me. She tells me, “the Senator and I don’t share the same views but I like him.” I lean over to her and say, “I also chose hope.” We giggled. Then she proceeds to tell me about the best grass fed steak she ever had. “The beef was grown in Kansas, flat land not many trees, but they can place a tasty steak on your dinner plate. Plus no vegetable; just steak and a large potato.” I’m stuck on the word “grown”. At least it was grass fed. She was kind to me. Her husband leans over to me and tells me that he loves the bridges of Pittsburgh. “I have a print in my kitchen.” The legislator said, “that’s Pittsburgh? I thought it was somewhere in England or France.” I hope she still enjoys the print. I talk about my previous evening trying to photograph the not-so-light-up-night in Pittsburgh.
The Senator chimes in, “John, on your last question, I was giving it some thought. It works the same way for us in the Senate as it does for you. We try our best with the information we have.”
That’s it… that is how our Government works. I look up at the novelist, he seems uninterested in the conversation. He likes pie – he is on his third slice of apple.
This is the thought that has been ringing in my head for a week:
We try our best with the information we have - God damn it, you've got to be kind. Really.
11.26.2008
11.25.2008
Moment
Current Reading: Fast Track Photography by Dane Sanders
Current Music: A Different Kind of Wild by Bill Deasy
Mood: Happy
Sounds: Printer
Smells: Coffee
Temperature: 32 degrees light snow
Thoughts: Music is Good for You – Link from Integration Journal
Current Music: A Different Kind of Wild by Bill Deasy
Mood: Happy
Sounds: Printer
Smells: Coffee
Temperature: 32 degrees light snow
Thoughts: Music is Good for You – Link from Integration Journal
11.24.2008
Photo of the Week
Camera: Nikon D200
Exposure: 30 sec (30)
Aperture: f/25
Focal Length: 50 mm
ISO Speed: 100
11.19.2008
I’m Number 51, AGAIN
I’m angry, it happened again…fifth year in a row; I’m number 51. People magazine just listed 2008’s fifty sexiest men alive. They never print, publish, promote or publicize number 51. Just an Oh-So-Close e-mail, yet again. Then I noticed that most of the men are members of the cult (oops) club (oops) church of Scientology, check out this list. At this point I can no longer stand being number 51. As of this moment I dedicate my ego and all my good-lookingness to the cult/club/church of Scientology. Move over Oprah, I’m jumping on your sofa.
Good reasons to become a Sciencetologist:
- They don’t go to war
- They only accept beautiful people
- You become automatically rich through osmosis or by the company you keep, or something like that.
- Tax exempt status – that’s why they only accept the rich
- Jenna Elfman (she’s pretty)
- Done the Christian/ Buddhist thing: Service to others, practice forgiveness, mindful of my actions, and I suffered. That is so two thousand year ago.
- Get to be immortal. Come on, that’s just cool.
- Story of Xenu is better than Star Wars.
- Sciencetologist lawyers kick ass
- South Park dedicated a full episode to satirizing Scientology – this only happens to famous and successful people. When’s the last time anybody satirized the Presbyterians?
- If Kurt Vonnegut would have conceived the idea of Scientology instead of L. Ron Hubbard nobody would have a problem with it.
Good reasons to become a Sciencetologist:
- They don’t go to war
- They only accept beautiful people
- You become automatically rich through osmosis or by the company you keep, or something like that.
- Tax exempt status – that’s why they only accept the rich
- Jenna Elfman (she’s pretty)
- Done the Christian/ Buddhist thing: Service to others, practice forgiveness, mindful of my actions, and I suffered. That is so two thousand year ago.
- Get to be immortal. Come on, that’s just cool.
- Story of Xenu is better than Star Wars.
- Sciencetologist lawyers kick ass
- South Park dedicated a full episode to satirizing Scientology – this only happens to famous and successful people. When’s the last time anybody satirized the Presbyterians?
- If Kurt Vonnegut would have conceived the idea of Scientology instead of L. Ron Hubbard nobody would have a problem with it.
Snow
First snow, autumn fall colors disappeared. Trees hibernate, beautiful and haunting standing strong as soldiers. Blue clouds lined with a pink hue fill the horizon. I am standing at a window resting on the wood seal frame looking out on the season. White-blanketed grass, cars dusted over and I listen to music as coffee brews.
11.17.2008
Photo of the Week
Camera: Nikon D70
Exposure: 0.005 sec (1/200)
Aperture: f/4
Focal Length: 29 mm
ISO Speed: 1000
11.14.2008
Completed – Peak Conditioning Project
Starting weight 171lbs (goal weight 165lbs)
Current weight 162lbs
Height 5’9
BMI 23%
After 90 days I can say that I am in the best peak condition of my life. This is what I learned. I have an enhanced sense of personal responsibility to stay in balance within mind, body, and spirit. Corinthians 6:19, “Your body is a temple.” This passage holds true. A temple on the outside, stand tall and strong on the inside it is a place of quiet prayer and meditation.
Week nine I wrote,
"At this stage I am seeing my body as a thought process. Meditation and prayer are equal to but not greater than diet and physical strength training. There is no difference between physical and mental effort. "
That’s it; the lesson learned is balancing the internal and the external of your body.
Lastly, what I learned is that it will take another 90 days for my ego to deflate. So if you see me flexing in a mirror or checking out my own reflection it’s ok to giggle….my wife does.
For more information see: Peak Conditioning Project (be sure to check out the sidebar links)
P.S. to read my previous posting on my PCP click here
Current weight 162lbs
Height 5’9
BMI 23%
After 90 days I can say that I am in the best peak condition of my life. This is what I learned. I have an enhanced sense of personal responsibility to stay in balance within mind, body, and spirit. Corinthians 6:19, “Your body is a temple.” This passage holds true. A temple on the outside, stand tall and strong on the inside it is a place of quiet prayer and meditation.
Week nine I wrote,
"At this stage I am seeing my body as a thought process. Meditation and prayer are equal to but not greater than diet and physical strength training. There is no difference between physical and mental effort. "
That’s it; the lesson learned is balancing the internal and the external of your body.
Lastly, what I learned is that it will take another 90 days for my ego to deflate. So if you see me flexing in a mirror or checking out my own reflection it’s ok to giggle….my wife does.
For more information see: Peak Conditioning Project (be sure to check out the sidebar links)
P.S. to read my previous posting on my PCP click here
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