Current Reading: Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
Current Music: Shine by Daniel Lanois
Smells: Coffee
Mood: Dreamy
Sounds: Printer
Temperature: 58 degrees cloudy with rain
Thoughts: Acupuncture make me sleepy
6.03.2009
6.02.2009
My Writing on My Writing
Do you have to write in pain? The majority of great writers do. They suffer for their art; schizophrenia, addictions, temper-disorders, self-isolation and a general sense of plain not-niceness for most of them.
I do not suffer when writing. For that reason alone I will probably never be a great writer. I do not struggle over my writing or the re-writing process. Writing comes to me in a fluid stream of consciousness. I even find re-reading my past works to be quite enjoyable.
At this point I must apologize to you, the readers of this blog, for reading this not-so-great writing. You deserve better. Let me explain.
When writing this quick-witted piece of brilliance that you are currently reading I thoroughly took pleasure in the writing process, no suffering at all. I enjoyed myself to the point that I actually saw my own ego explode right in front of my waking self just to see it reincarnated back into its original self-obsessing glory. Yes, it was magnificent…
My solution to the creative agony: stop caring about great writing and enjoy the shitty first draft. Making a mess is the best way to find out who we are…just ask my three year old.
P.S. again sorry for all the non-greatness…enjoy the photos, I suffered over them.
I do not suffer when writing. For that reason alone I will probably never be a great writer. I do not struggle over my writing or the re-writing process. Writing comes to me in a fluid stream of consciousness. I even find re-reading my past works to be quite enjoyable.
At this point I must apologize to you, the readers of this blog, for reading this not-so-great writing. You deserve better. Let me explain.
When writing this quick-witted piece of brilliance that you are currently reading I thoroughly took pleasure in the writing process, no suffering at all. I enjoyed myself to the point that I actually saw my own ego explode right in front of my waking self just to see it reincarnated back into its original self-obsessing glory. Yes, it was magnificent…
My solution to the creative agony: stop caring about great writing and enjoy the shitty first draft. Making a mess is the best way to find out who we are…just ask my three year old.
P.S. again sorry for all the non-greatness…enjoy the photos, I suffered over them.
6.01.2009
5.29.2009
Elementary School Memories
Preschool – My first memories are of a teacher who yelled a lot, a very old, wrinkly, mean lady teacher who yelled a lot. I remember a very nice teacher’s aid that would take care of us (God bless her) from that wicked old witch. The trauma-highlight for me was on “bring your toy sailboat to school” day. My toy boat was too big for the plastic tub that the wicked-old -witch deemed for us to play in. She yelled at me “get that boat out of the water”. The nice teacher’s aid lady took me into the cafeteria to let me play with my-too-large for the group sailboat in the cafeteria sink.
Kindergarten – The year of eating paste…most likely. K-year is not much more than a blur. A crowded room, fighting for time at the block table, Legos all around. The constant yelling “Don’t eat the playdough” from some adult in the room.
1st grade – It was the year we invented crayon-football and nap time went away. I sat next to a child who was always getting in trouble. In today’s world he would be deemed hyperactive, at that time he was just bad. It was also the year of lots of snot, some girl whom I cannot remember her name was a faucet of snot.
2nd grade – Another mean teacher, probably the sister to the wicked witch of the west from preschool days. I had a music teacher who’s lesson I would never forget. Good rhythm and timing will get you through. The music teacher, actually a drum instructor, would always refer to us as girls during drum practice. The cafeteria lady was mean, wooden spoon, hair net and all. I think Adam Sandler found inspiration in her.
3rd grade – My teacher’s name was Ms. Wonder and she was not Wonder Woman. This always confused me. Started my first journal, it was a notebook full of jokes. I wrote this with a friend who kept the journal, 25 years later I got to read it. My penmanship has not improved much…or at all.
4th grade – Disinterested in all things, the year was a blur. I am either repressing something or was totally spaced out during my 4th grade year. The only memory I have is being kicked by a girl at the bus stop.
5th grade – My female teacher had big boobs and a pretty face. Unfortunately she had really, really, really bad breath from smoking. To me she was Jaclyn Smith from afar.
6th grade – Played kickball all the time. I think the teacher hated teaching and kept us out on the playground to kill time. The teacher would play center field, always catching our fly balls so nobody would get a home run.
The next six years of education would be focused on music, girls, sports, killing time and oh yeah…the occasional homework assignment…in that order.
Kindergarten – The year of eating paste…most likely. K-year is not much more than a blur. A crowded room, fighting for time at the block table, Legos all around. The constant yelling “Don’t eat the playdough” from some adult in the room.
1st grade – It was the year we invented crayon-football and nap time went away. I sat next to a child who was always getting in trouble. In today’s world he would be deemed hyperactive, at that time he was just bad. It was also the year of lots of snot, some girl whom I cannot remember her name was a faucet of snot.
2nd grade – Another mean teacher, probably the sister to the wicked witch of the west from preschool days. I had a music teacher who’s lesson I would never forget. Good rhythm and timing will get you through. The music teacher, actually a drum instructor, would always refer to us as girls during drum practice. The cafeteria lady was mean, wooden spoon, hair net and all. I think Adam Sandler found inspiration in her.
3rd grade – My teacher’s name was Ms. Wonder and she was not Wonder Woman. This always confused me. Started my first journal, it was a notebook full of jokes. I wrote this with a friend who kept the journal, 25 years later I got to read it. My penmanship has not improved much…or at all.
4th grade – Disinterested in all things, the year was a blur. I am either repressing something or was totally spaced out during my 4th grade year. The only memory I have is being kicked by a girl at the bus stop.
5th grade – My female teacher had big boobs and a pretty face. Unfortunately she had really, really, really bad breath from smoking. To me she was Jaclyn Smith from afar.
6th grade – Played kickball all the time. I think the teacher hated teaching and kept us out on the playground to kill time. The teacher would play center field, always catching our fly balls so nobody would get a home run.
The next six years of education would be focused on music, girls, sports, killing time and oh yeah…the occasional homework assignment…in that order.
5.28.2009
R.I.P – Social Networking
I just finished reading the entire FACE BOOK when I got to the end I was so TWITTERed out. I felt like I needed MYSPACE but I wanted to be LINKED-IN to the entire GAIA. When the universe opened up to me it said “this is YOU TUBE not mine."
After falling down I stood back up just to fall deeper into the BLOGSPOT only to be caught in a WORDPRESS of thought… I saw a FLICKR of light reflecting my LIVEJOURNAL back into my original face.
Do you DIGG it, isn’t this DEL.ICIO.US that you just STUMBLE UPON this SQUIDOO…
My online self needs to experience my FRIENDSTER of the real world. All I can think to say is YAHOO!!!!!
See you on the sidewalk….and the blog.
Long live GOOGLE!!!!
After falling down I stood back up just to fall deeper into the BLOGSPOT only to be caught in a WORDPRESS of thought… I saw a FLICKR of light reflecting my LIVEJOURNAL back into my original face.
Do you DIGG it, isn’t this DEL.ICIO.US that you just STUMBLE UPON this SQUIDOO…
My online self needs to experience my FRIENDSTER of the real world. All I can think to say is YAHOO!!!!!
See you on the sidewalk….and the blog.
Long live GOOGLE!!!!
5.27.2009
On God - Deism ???
A comment was recently left on a posting of mine titled “On Being an Artist”. In that essay there is a paragraph where I compare man’s art creations to God’s creations, neither one have power over created work once released to the world.
Commenter wrote, “Your simplified version of 18th century deism displays much inconsistency of thought.” Commenter also wrote “One has to look no further than your own website to see that men obsess over their creations.” For the record I love both of these comments and I responded back to the commenter thanking him for his thought-provoking comments.
What follows is the thought-provoking stuff inspired by the commenter.
It’s true that man (especially me) obsesses over their creations…does God? I don’t know but my heart tells me that s/he does.
After reading the original comment the first thing I did was to look up the word “Deism”.
Deism – (per Wikipedia) God does not intervene with the functions of the natural world.
I am ok with that…is it true? I do not know nor care. Am I a hypocrite? Most likely, I practice meditation and believe in the power of prayer. Buddha spoke of being comfortable with your contradictions. I am.
I no longer wrestle with existential questions or feel guided by a transcendental purpose but I do miss walking in the woods.
Walking in the woods is the only place that I felt guided by my inner voice and felt the presence of God. It was never a radically transforming experience, but it was enough for me to stop seeking answers about God and to start experiencing God’s creations.
For me it does not matter if God only created DNA and then became a spectator of her/his creation leaving evolution to dispose through benevolent acts.
It does not matter to me if God hand-created each and every one of us. Or if s/he only hand picks a chosen few to communicate through.
It does not matter to me if God is a dormant muscle or gene that is held deep inside of us waiting to be developed through spiritual practice and exercises.
God could be: law, grace, art, three persons making up a single body, all of Gaia or the single heartbeat inside your chest…I am ok with that.
Our spiritual history can be flawed and layered with imperfections and still have deep impactful meaning in which to live your life by. I am ok with that.
God is a mystery and I am ok with that. Never fight the oblivious…never - and I am ok with that.
I do miss walking in woods.
Commenter wrote, “Your simplified version of 18th century deism displays much inconsistency of thought.” Commenter also wrote “One has to look no further than your own website to see that men obsess over their creations.” For the record I love both of these comments and I responded back to the commenter thanking him for his thought-provoking comments.
What follows is the thought-provoking stuff inspired by the commenter.
It’s true that man (especially me) obsesses over their creations…does God? I don’t know but my heart tells me that s/he does.
After reading the original comment the first thing I did was to look up the word “Deism”.
Deism – (per Wikipedia) God does not intervene with the functions of the natural world.
I am ok with that…is it true? I do not know nor care. Am I a hypocrite? Most likely, I practice meditation and believe in the power of prayer. Buddha spoke of being comfortable with your contradictions. I am.
I no longer wrestle with existential questions or feel guided by a transcendental purpose but I do miss walking in the woods.
Walking in the woods is the only place that I felt guided by my inner voice and felt the presence of God. It was never a radically transforming experience, but it was enough for me to stop seeking answers about God and to start experiencing God’s creations.
For me it does not matter if God only created DNA and then became a spectator of her/his creation leaving evolution to dispose through benevolent acts.
It does not matter to me if God hand-created each and every one of us. Or if s/he only hand picks a chosen few to communicate through.
It does not matter to me if God is a dormant muscle or gene that is held deep inside of us waiting to be developed through spiritual practice and exercises.
God could be: law, grace, art, three persons making up a single body, all of Gaia or the single heartbeat inside your chest…I am ok with that.
Our spiritual history can be flawed and layered with imperfections and still have deep impactful meaning in which to live your life by. I am ok with that.
God is a mystery and I am ok with that. Never fight the oblivious…never - and I am ok with that.
I do miss walking in woods.
5.22.2009
5.21.2009
Moment
Current Reading: The Life & Times of Brian Eno
Current Music: All Things Must Past by George Harrison
Smells: Toast
Mood: Not to shabby
Sounds: White noise & humming birds
Temperature: Sunny & 60 degrees
Thoughts: Never fight the oblivious…never!
Current Music: All Things Must Past by George Harrison
Smells: Toast
Mood: Not to shabby
Sounds: White noise & humming birds
Temperature: Sunny & 60 degrees
Thoughts: Never fight the oblivious…never!
5.20.2009
On Being an Artist
On Being an Artist
Art is here to give people the opportunity to dream.
Art is the dialogue of the imagination.
Art is a service to humanity for creating connections.
Art is purpose.
People refer to me as an artist to which I always say, “Thank you, art is subjective” then I nod politely and say “I appreciate the kind words”.
I think of myself as a craftsman laborer with tools. My tools of choices are a camera, guitar and a pen; no more or no less important than a shovel, screwdriver or a hammer. A tool’s purpose is to create or destroy. My Father is a blue-collar laborer. He is an electrician and he uses tools to create…and destroy a couple of items along the way.
I aspire to create.
Gary Snyder wrote “We are here to entertain the rest of nature”.
Martin Scorsese wrote - "The artist's job is to make people care about your obsessions and see them and experience them as their own".
That’s true to me. It has always boggled me as to why people ask God for intervention. Man is created in the image of God. It would hold true that God has no more control over his creation than man has over his created works. Man and God can create and destroy, nonetheless the creation is left up to its own self for its survival.
Never call yourself a prophet, philosophers or an artist. May those titles be placed upon you long after your death.
They are all titles given to you, not self-imposed labels. If deserved.
Art is here to give people the opportunity to dream.
Art is the dialogue of the imagination.
Art is a service to humanity for creating connections.
Art is purpose.
People refer to me as an artist to which I always say, “Thank you, art is subjective” then I nod politely and say “I appreciate the kind words”.
I think of myself as a craftsman laborer with tools. My tools of choices are a camera, guitar and a pen; no more or no less important than a shovel, screwdriver or a hammer. A tool’s purpose is to create or destroy. My Father is a blue-collar laborer. He is an electrician and he uses tools to create…and destroy a couple of items along the way.
I aspire to create.
Gary Snyder wrote “We are here to entertain the rest of nature”.
Martin Scorsese wrote - "The artist's job is to make people care about your obsessions and see them and experience them as their own".
That’s true to me. It has always boggled me as to why people ask God for intervention. Man is created in the image of God. It would hold true that God has no more control over his creation than man has over his created works. Man and God can create and destroy, nonetheless the creation is left up to its own self for its survival.
Never call yourself a prophet, philosophers or an artist. May those titles be placed upon you long after your death.
They are all titles given to you, not self-imposed labels. If deserved.
5.18.2009
Photo of the Week - Ambient Art
Camera: Nikon D200 Exposure: 30
Aperture: f/16.0
Focal Length: 40 mm
ISO Speed: 100
Exposure Bias: 0 EV
5.15.2009
Commercial Photography
Belief; believe in yourself, and do what you where hired to do.
These were the words that I kept repeating to myself on last week’s commercial shoot.
48 hours to document 100 years of history with a different perspective. No pressure…?
Davis & Elkins College in WV is celebrating their 100th graduation class this year and the college administrator decided that this would be a good time to re-vamp their image.
The first thing the college did was to hire the design firm Direct-Axis located in Pittsburgh. Ok, they’re off to a pretty good start. Direct-Axis is a top notch firm with a stellar staff of creative people. Next, Direct Axis asks me to photograph the campus landscape, architecture and student life.
I enjoy commercial photography and I am lucky enough that I can hand pick the jobs that I wish to take. When deciding which job to take I always go with “is this going to push me creatively & do I like who I will be collaborating with?” This experience gave me both.
With a deadline in place and a window of 48hours to document 100 years of history, two tripods, an arsenal of lenses, off to WV I go.
Wet shoes, soggy backpack and conversations with Dan O’Donnell, owner of Direct-Axis, by my side we did it. Dan and I dialogued about indie music, art talk, biz discussions, gardening, and politics all the while trekking through the campus. Fist day it rained non stop, second day the campus was fogged in. I had about a total of 3 hours of sunlight to work with.
“Pull the best out of what you have”, that is my philosophy of photography. The light is never in the same place twice and this moment will never repeat itself again.
During the shoot I was thinking about the importance of personal side projects and my Flickr account. I use my Flickr account as a dumping ground for my side projects. When I shoot ambient, city night or general stuff I upload the best (or the bulk) of the photos to my Flickr page with minimal to no editing. I license most everything I do on Flickr with Creative Commons. If you like a photograph, take it. No cost.
My Flickr portfolio has developed into a marketing tool and a stock page. In this past year alone people have asked to use my work in a book (coming out this Fall), several business websites and if I’m lucky you’ll see my work within D & E’s portfolio as well. This all keeps fueling commercial work. Not a bad return for giving away side project work.
Standing in the rain and fog thinking about how I got this job. They like my work, not the polished stuff that is on my art gallery page but the side project work-in-progress photography that is uploaded to my dumping ground Flickr page.
What did I learn?
- People love to follow works in progress.
- White balance set on cloudy, color saturation set on more vibrant, ISO 100, and a tripod is a good combination for bad weather photography.
- Belief in what you do.
Yesterday I heard from the design firm and college that everybody loved the work and one photo in particular will be a centerfold photo in a book about D & E.
48 hours to document 100 years of history with a different perspective. No pressure…?
Davis & Elkins College in WV is celebrating their 100th graduation class this year and the college administrator decided that this would be a good time to re-vamp their image.
The first thing the college did was to hire the design firm Direct-Axis located in Pittsburgh. Ok, they’re off to a pretty good start. Direct-Axis is a top notch firm with a stellar staff of creative people. Next, Direct Axis asks me to photograph the campus landscape, architecture and student life.
I enjoy commercial photography and I am lucky enough that I can hand pick the jobs that I wish to take. When deciding which job to take I always go with “is this going to push me creatively & do I like who I will be collaborating with?” This experience gave me both.
With a deadline in place and a window of 48hours to document 100 years of history, two tripods, an arsenal of lenses, off to WV I go.
Wet shoes, soggy backpack and conversations with Dan O’Donnell, owner of Direct-Axis, by my side we did it. Dan and I dialogued about indie music, art talk, biz discussions, gardening, and politics all the while trekking through the campus. Fist day it rained non stop, second day the campus was fogged in. I had about a total of 3 hours of sunlight to work with.
“Pull the best out of what you have”, that is my philosophy of photography. The light is never in the same place twice and this moment will never repeat itself again.
During the shoot I was thinking about the importance of personal side projects and my Flickr account. I use my Flickr account as a dumping ground for my side projects. When I shoot ambient, city night or general stuff I upload the best (or the bulk) of the photos to my Flickr page with minimal to no editing. I license most everything I do on Flickr with Creative Commons. If you like a photograph, take it. No cost.
My Flickr portfolio has developed into a marketing tool and a stock page. In this past year alone people have asked to use my work in a book (coming out this Fall), several business websites and if I’m lucky you’ll see my work within D & E’s portfolio as well. This all keeps fueling commercial work. Not a bad return for giving away side project work.
Standing in the rain and fog thinking about how I got this job. They like my work, not the polished stuff that is on my art gallery page but the side project work-in-progress photography that is uploaded to my dumping ground Flickr page.
What did I learn?
- People love to follow works in progress.
- White balance set on cloudy, color saturation set on more vibrant, ISO 100, and a tripod is a good combination for bad weather photography.
- Belief in what you do.
Yesterday I heard from the design firm and college that everybody loved the work and one photo in particular will be a centerfold photo in a book about D & E.
5.13.2009
Workshop – NOW BOOKING
I will be teaching a 2-night workshop called Purposeful Blogging for your Photography Business at the Silver Eye Center for Photography located in the South Side of Pittsburgh PA.
Tuesdays July 14 and 21, 7:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.
"Purposeful Blogging is a marketing tool for photographers who want to grow their business by building an audience through the use of new communication models. Blogging for your business is a demonstration of your skill and representation of who you are. This two-evening workshop with Photographer John Craig will introduce you to techniques that can help you launch your business into the blogosphere.”
This is two nights of must-have information on how to build your audience thru blogging and how to sustain you business.
Reservations required
Tuesdays July 14 and 21, 7:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m."Purposeful Blogging is a marketing tool for photographers who want to grow their business by building an audience through the use of new communication models. Blogging for your business is a demonstration of your skill and representation of who you are. This two-evening workshop with Photographer John Craig will introduce you to techniques that can help you launch your business into the blogosphere.”
This is two nights of must-have information on how to build your audience thru blogging and how to sustain you business.
Reservations required
5.12.2009
The Soloist & My Room
I finished reading “The Soloist” today at lunch. It was odd reading a book about the powers of music without actually listening to music. I wish I would have seen the movie first and then read the book to have the soundtrack playing in mind while reading.
The copy of the book I was reading was on loan from my local library. This copy had hand written notes throughout the book. It was interesting to read somebody else’s thoughts about the story. The writer of the notes seemed to have a person living in their life that is also suffering from schizophrenia.
Pages of the book read “homeless, living without a view of a horizon, no greens, no blues just city”. The note writer adds in the margins of that page “schizophrenia leads to introspection – thoughts in my mind. I stand next to a life that is better than mine.” I have no idea what to make of the handwritten notes. The word introspection and life leads me to guess that there is redemption of hope found in the pages of this book.
I have this extra room in my house which has become “my room” (all other rooms are “E’s, but I do get a pillow and I am re-invited every night to share the bed). It’s a room where I workout and store my photo gear. Last night I set up a practice area: music stand, chair and guitar. I keep guitars tossed throughout the house. For the most part anywhere I typically sit there is a guitar close by. Keeping a true practice workout regime for guitar has been calling me for a long time.
The music of Bach is otherworldly to me. Many times when I play Bach I cannot tell you what I am playing (theory, chord structure). At times it feels like fingers on strings and a piece of wood in my hands making sounds that I have no control over or understating of. I have been playing guitar for three decades, in that time I have recorded a couple of cd’s and have played countless shows. Nothing can compete with the moments of fluidly playing Bach.
I live with a quiet inner fear if that I do not keep growing as a musician I will not grow as a photographer. Music helps me to see the world.
“May the concert never stop” - Nathaniel Ayers
The copy of the book I was reading was on loan from my local library. This copy had hand written notes throughout the book. It was interesting to read somebody else’s thoughts about the story. The writer of the notes seemed to have a person living in their life that is also suffering from schizophrenia.
Pages of the book read “homeless, living without a view of a horizon, no greens, no blues just city”. The note writer adds in the margins of that page “schizophrenia leads to introspection – thoughts in my mind. I stand next to a life that is better than mine.” I have no idea what to make of the handwritten notes. The word introspection and life leads me to guess that there is redemption of hope found in the pages of this book.
I have this extra room in my house which has become “my room” (all other rooms are “E’s, but I do get a pillow and I am re-invited every night to share the bed). It’s a room where I workout and store my photo gear. Last night I set up a practice area: music stand, chair and guitar. I keep guitars tossed throughout the house. For the most part anywhere I typically sit there is a guitar close by. Keeping a true practice workout regime for guitar has been calling me for a long time.
The music of Bach is otherworldly to me. Many times when I play Bach I cannot tell you what I am playing (theory, chord structure). At times it feels like fingers on strings and a piece of wood in my hands making sounds that I have no control over or understating of. I have been playing guitar for three decades, in that time I have recorded a couple of cd’s and have played countless shows. Nothing can compete with the moments of fluidly playing Bach.
I live with a quiet inner fear if that I do not keep growing as a musician I will not grow as a photographer. Music helps me to see the world.
“May the concert never stop” - Nathaniel Ayers
5.11.2009
Photo of the Week
Camera: Nikon D200
Exposure: 0.005 sec (1/200)
Aperture: f/7.1
Focal Length: 29 mm
ISO Speed: 800
Exposure Bias: 0 EV
Flash: No Flash
5.08.2009
Moment
Current Reading: The Soloist by Steve Lopez
Current Music: All this Time by Sting
Smells: Sauerkraut
Mood: Is lack of sleep a mood?
Sounds: Wind, birds and other people talking…
Temperature: 67 degrees
Thoughts: Success deferred is not failure….
Current Music: All this Time by Sting
Smells: Sauerkraut
Mood: Is lack of sleep a mood?
Sounds: Wind, birds and other people talking…
Temperature: 67 degrees
Thoughts: Success deferred is not failure….
5.07.2009
Update on My Shoes
"The human foot is a work of art and a masterpiece of engineering.”
Leonardo Da Vinci
Read – A Year Ago Walking by Ottmar Liebert
Read - Tim Ferriss on Vibram Shoes
Leonardo Da Vinci
Read – A Year Ago Walking by Ottmar LiebertRead - Tim Ferriss on Vibram Shoes
Photo of the Week - Ambient Art
Camera: Nikon D200Exposure: 2
Aperture: f/25.0
Focal Length: 70 mm
ISO Speed: 640
Exposure Bias: 0 EV
Flash: No Flash
5.05.2009
Dinner for Two
Last night I had dinner with Elizabeth at a little Indian restaurant on South Craig street in Oakland. The fresh smell of garlic nan (bread) practically brought tears of joy to “E”. (p.s. be sure to ask “E” about her cupcake from this weekend's wedding. That is a story no man is fit to tell).
A quiet dinner just for two was much needed and well deserved. Four shoots in two days makes a photographer hungry and sleepy. Here is an insanely useful photography tip that they didn’t teach you in collage – Grandparents are a must…knowing that our little “e” is safe and happy when Mommy & Daddy have to be away from home is a godsend of peace to us.
Tuesday and Wednesday of this week I will be in West Virginia photographing commercial work. (Photo updates later in the week)
Updates on our photography career - “E” Intimates Series is doing great beyond expectation. I have my first workshop and commercial project that has been keeping me busy.
Side project work is a must for creative flow. “E” and I agree that side projects are a must-have to do wedding photography well. Seeing the world from multiple perspectives is what photography is all about.
See you all later in the week.
A quiet dinner just for two was much needed and well deserved. Four shoots in two days makes a photographer hungry and sleepy. Here is an insanely useful photography tip that they didn’t teach you in collage – Grandparents are a must…knowing that our little “e” is safe and happy when Mommy & Daddy have to be away from home is a godsend of peace to us.
Tuesday and Wednesday of this week I will be in West Virginia photographing commercial work. (Photo updates later in the week)
Updates on our photography career - “E” Intimates Series is doing great beyond expectation. I have my first workshop and commercial project that has been keeping me busy.
Side project work is a must for creative flow. “E” and I agree that side projects are a must-have to do wedding photography well. Seeing the world from multiple perspectives is what photography is all about.
See you all later in the week.
5.04.2009
My New Shoes
I have been wearing these shoes for the past seven days, you can read about them (here….)
P.S. – Yes, they are awesome…
P.S. – Yes, they are awesome…
5.01.2009
Intimates Shoot Series & Updates
Intimates Shoot Series by Elizabeth, check it out (here....)
Have a great weekend: for the E & J team it is 4 shoots in 2 days....
Then next week I am off to WV to photograph a college for there website & marketing materials.
Have a great weekend: for the E & J team it is 4 shoots in 2 days....
Then next week I am off to WV to photograph a college for there website & marketing materials.
4.30.2009
Moment
Current Reading: Why We Suck by Denis Leary
Current Music: Different Kind of Wild by Bill Deasy
Smells: Coffee, empty cup
Mood: So-so
Sounds: Telephone
Temperature: 63 degrees and cloudy
Thoughts: Inhale, exhale then repeat
Current Music: Different Kind of Wild by Bill Deasy
Smells: Coffee, empty cup
Mood: So-so
Sounds: Telephone
Temperature: 63 degrees and cloudy
Thoughts: Inhale, exhale then repeat
4.29.2009
Welcome to Craig Photography
Elizabeth & I discuss a little about our craft and why we love being photographers.
4.28.2009
Photo of the Week
Camera: Nikon D70
Exposure: 6 sec (6)
Aperture: f/22
Focal Length: 18 mm
ISO Speed: 200
Exposure Bias: 0 EV
4.27.2009
Anonymous Society - Short Story
September 10, 2001, one day before the world would change forever. I am sitting in a pub in Pittsburgh International Airport drinking a beer, watching a lounge act and waiting to board my flight to Boston which has been delayed for two hours.
The music is odd, comical, and upbeat; one singer and one guitar player: The lead singer has a trash-Vegas look going on. Wearing a tiger-stripped velvet jacket, Jim Morrison red leather pants, swigging vodka from a hillbilly-jug and he keeps pointing to this girl at the table in front of him, “Kitty this one for you”. Running his hand through his shinny black hair, which is most likely a wig?
The guitarist is a cross between Paco De Lucia and a Seinfeld character. He is wearing a white puffy shirt made famous on that sitcom. He comes across as a real existential asshole. He is sitting on a stool playing his guitar all the while looking at an open book that he has placed next to his chair on a small table. I am betting the book is some kind of eco-save-something-type of book. Additionally on his side table is a martini glass filled with almonds, a small lighted candle, and a Buddha statue. Of course he is not wearing shoes and has a scruffy beard. Yep – he is an extensional asshole.
I ask the bartender for a shot of Jack and a beer chaser. He gives me a “your gonna need it if you plan on spending the next two hours listening to these guys performer” look.
The music stops abruptly and the lead singer walks to center stage and stands quiet, prayerfully for a minute and then says “I am Dak Davis. To my right is Johnny Ravioli on guitar and we are Anonymous Society”. For our next set we will perform the greatest hits from the collected works of Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra.” Just then both he and Johnny Ravioli make the sign of the cross after saying the names of Dean and Frank aloud.
Bartender looks at me, “They do that every time they speak those names, what a couple of a-holes.”
They start playing the “Girl from Ipanema”. It’s good. Next they move into Dino’s “Ain’t That a Kick in the Head”, also good. Maybe an extensional asshole and a man trapped in the Rat-Pack can entertain me.
For the next forty-five-sound-filled-minutes I listened to Frank and Dean with shots of Jack Daniels easing my mind. Anonymous Society – rock, in a flamenco-impromptu-mascots-entertainment-experience, sort of way.
Dak Davis exhales into the microphone, “Kitty lets get fresh vodka”. He walks off stage and grabs the hand of a Peg Bundy looking women. Big hair, low cut tiger striped dress, small red purse, giant black Jackie-O sunglasses, (let me remind you that we are indoors) and a pair of the highest heels known to man or woman. Dak lights her cigarette. I am amazed that her hair didn’t go up in flames.
Johnny Ravioli turns to his miniature statue of Buddha and bows three times. Closes his book, Integral Ecology (I was so right... eco-save-something-type of book…he is an extensional asshole). He places his guitar back into its case and covers it with a Frank Sinatra blanket, proceeds to make the sign of the cross, blows out his candle and walks over to the bar and sit by me.
“Johnny Ravioli, flamenco guitarist of Anonymous Society”. “Nice to meet you”, I say. We shake hands, he doesn’t ask my name. “What are you doing playing music in an airport” I ask. “It’s the only place where a new audience comes to you every night, no traveling required”.
“There’s Las Vegas” I say to him. “We’re not that good. Plus I hate the heat and Dak has to attend the same Catholic Church every morning at 8am, St Andrew’s Cathedral over in Bellevue. He hasn’t missed a mass in thirty two years. He says it’s something about his penance for being such a terrible altar boy in his youth. Then there is also the strip club down in McKees Rocks that he goes to every night at 8pm. Dak always says the a.m. is for Jesus and the p.m. is for the Devil”. I ask “Does Dak have a thirty two year run at the strip club?” “No, just twelve…he met Kitty there eleven years ago”.
Laughing, I offer to buy Johnny a drink. “Thanks”, he said, “I’ll have a scotch with milk on the rocks. It’s what monks drink for longer meditation sessions. Protein for the body and transcendence for the soul on ice, not a bad drink you should try one”. No thanks.
“Johnny let me ask you why “Anonymous Society” for a band’s name?” Johnny answers “It’s a homage to the Rat-Pack and plus the name Mafia was already taken by an authentic Italian harpsichord and violin group over in Oakland”. That’s too bad. “True’that, True’that”, Johnny said then finishes off his drink.
Johnny thanks me for the drinks and hands me a copy of an Anonymous Society CD. “That’s for the drink, enjoy. I gotta get ready for the next set”.
On my third Jack Daniels with a beer chaser I stare at the CD cover artwork. It’s a blank white album cover, very original, I laugh to myself, homage to Frank and Dean (I make the sign of the cross being a lapsed Catholic it didn’t feel disrespectful) and rip off the Beatles most successful album cover. At the bottom of the cover in small print it read: Low End Spirituality as performed by Anonymous Society. Above the word Society was a small silhouette photo of Dak and Johnny on stage exactly as they are tonight.
Flip the CD over to read the song list:
My Sadistic Cat,
Ego is a WE,
My Reptilian Brain Stem Hurts,
Narcissism Sandwich,
I am Awakening to Reality and then Going Back to Sleep,
FOCUSout
Masquerading Mystic…
What no Frank or Dean cover tunes? I say out load, the bartender stares at me so I order another Jack with a beer chaser.
Johnny Ravioli walks on stage, picks his guitar up out of the case, carefully folding the Frank Sinatra blanket, and makes the sign of cross. He lights the candle, opens his book, eats five almonds, bows three times to the Buddha statue, sits in his chair, tunes his guitar, then stares off.
Dak jumps on stage and runs his fingers through his black shiny hair. Yep, definitely a wig. He shouts out – “one, two, one, two, three, four…”
Then silence. No guitar, no music. Dak looks over at Johnny and yells, “Quit looking at my girl Kitty’s tits and play that damm guitar”. He takes a swig of vodka from his hillbilly-jug.
Johnny yells out from his chair “I am Awakening to Reality and then Going Back to Sleep”. I laugh out loud; track five on the white album.
Over the Airport load speaker…”Flight to Boston is now departing from gate B8.”
I gather my stuff, pay my tab and leave the bartender a generous tip. I smile and wave goodbye to the members of Anonymous Society, think to myself about this brief, entertaining experience and wished that I would’ve ordered some food to go with all the jack and beer that I drank.
Sitting on the plane I pop the CD into my laptop. Double clicking the CD icon to play it, two quotes appear before the music will start.
“I do not care about my obituary; I only care about my spirit and vodka.”
- Dak Davis, lead singer of Anonymous Society
“I play this music to chase out the demons.”
- Johnny Ravioli, flamenco guitarist of Anonymous Society
Eight o’clock in the morning I awake in my hotel room in Boston. Turning on the TV I hear the news of an attack on New York's World Trade Center. I think about demons, innocent spirits, lives lost and that I need vodka…lots of vodka.
Later that day I find out that the plane that I exited that night was the same plane that the terrorists had entered onto to act out their evil. I think how I accidentally left behind that CD entitled Low End Spirituality. What an appropriate title to describe the culture of a terrorist’s thinking.
My Reptilian Brain Stem hurts, as I drink vodka to chase out the demons in my head.
The music is odd, comical, and upbeat; one singer and one guitar player: The lead singer has a trash-Vegas look going on. Wearing a tiger-stripped velvet jacket, Jim Morrison red leather pants, swigging vodka from a hillbilly-jug and he keeps pointing to this girl at the table in front of him, “Kitty this one for you”. Running his hand through his shinny black hair, which is most likely a wig?
The guitarist is a cross between Paco De Lucia and a Seinfeld character. He is wearing a white puffy shirt made famous on that sitcom. He comes across as a real existential asshole. He is sitting on a stool playing his guitar all the while looking at an open book that he has placed next to his chair on a small table. I am betting the book is some kind of eco-save-something-type of book. Additionally on his side table is a martini glass filled with almonds, a small lighted candle, and a Buddha statue. Of course he is not wearing shoes and has a scruffy beard. Yep – he is an extensional asshole.
I ask the bartender for a shot of Jack and a beer chaser. He gives me a “your gonna need it if you plan on spending the next two hours listening to these guys performer” look.
The music stops abruptly and the lead singer walks to center stage and stands quiet, prayerfully for a minute and then says “I am Dak Davis. To my right is Johnny Ravioli on guitar and we are Anonymous Society”. For our next set we will perform the greatest hits from the collected works of Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra.” Just then both he and Johnny Ravioli make the sign of the cross after saying the names of Dean and Frank aloud.
Bartender looks at me, “They do that every time they speak those names, what a couple of a-holes.”
They start playing the “Girl from Ipanema”. It’s good. Next they move into Dino’s “Ain’t That a Kick in the Head”, also good. Maybe an extensional asshole and a man trapped in the Rat-Pack can entertain me.
For the next forty-five-sound-filled-minutes I listened to Frank and Dean with shots of Jack Daniels easing my mind. Anonymous Society – rock, in a flamenco-impromptu-mascots-entertainment-experience, sort of way.
Dak Davis exhales into the microphone, “Kitty lets get fresh vodka”. He walks off stage and grabs the hand of a Peg Bundy looking women. Big hair, low cut tiger striped dress, small red purse, giant black Jackie-O sunglasses, (let me remind you that we are indoors) and a pair of the highest heels known to man or woman. Dak lights her cigarette. I am amazed that her hair didn’t go up in flames.
Johnny Ravioli turns to his miniature statue of Buddha and bows three times. Closes his book, Integral Ecology (I was so right... eco-save-something-type of book…he is an extensional asshole). He places his guitar back into its case and covers it with a Frank Sinatra blanket, proceeds to make the sign of the cross, blows out his candle and walks over to the bar and sit by me.
“Johnny Ravioli, flamenco guitarist of Anonymous Society”. “Nice to meet you”, I say. We shake hands, he doesn’t ask my name. “What are you doing playing music in an airport” I ask. “It’s the only place where a new audience comes to you every night, no traveling required”.
“There’s Las Vegas” I say to him. “We’re not that good. Plus I hate the heat and Dak has to attend the same Catholic Church every morning at 8am, St Andrew’s Cathedral over in Bellevue. He hasn’t missed a mass in thirty two years. He says it’s something about his penance for being such a terrible altar boy in his youth. Then there is also the strip club down in McKees Rocks that he goes to every night at 8pm. Dak always says the a.m. is for Jesus and the p.m. is for the Devil”. I ask “Does Dak have a thirty two year run at the strip club?” “No, just twelve…he met Kitty there eleven years ago”.
Laughing, I offer to buy Johnny a drink. “Thanks”, he said, “I’ll have a scotch with milk on the rocks. It’s what monks drink for longer meditation sessions. Protein for the body and transcendence for the soul on ice, not a bad drink you should try one”. No thanks.
“Johnny let me ask you why “Anonymous Society” for a band’s name?” Johnny answers “It’s a homage to the Rat-Pack and plus the name Mafia was already taken by an authentic Italian harpsichord and violin group over in Oakland”. That’s too bad. “True’that, True’that”, Johnny said then finishes off his drink.
Johnny thanks me for the drinks and hands me a copy of an Anonymous Society CD. “That’s for the drink, enjoy. I gotta get ready for the next set”.
On my third Jack Daniels with a beer chaser I stare at the CD cover artwork. It’s a blank white album cover, very original, I laugh to myself, homage to Frank and Dean (I make the sign of the cross being a lapsed Catholic it didn’t feel disrespectful) and rip off the Beatles most successful album cover. At the bottom of the cover in small print it read: Low End Spirituality as performed by Anonymous Society. Above the word Society was a small silhouette photo of Dak and Johnny on stage exactly as they are tonight.
Flip the CD over to read the song list:
My Sadistic Cat,
Ego is a WE,
My Reptilian Brain Stem Hurts,
Narcissism Sandwich,
I am Awakening to Reality and then Going Back to Sleep,
FOCUSout
Masquerading Mystic…
What no Frank or Dean cover tunes? I say out load, the bartender stares at me so I order another Jack with a beer chaser.
Johnny Ravioli walks on stage, picks his guitar up out of the case, carefully folding the Frank Sinatra blanket, and makes the sign of cross. He lights the candle, opens his book, eats five almonds, bows three times to the Buddha statue, sits in his chair, tunes his guitar, then stares off.
Dak jumps on stage and runs his fingers through his black shiny hair. Yep, definitely a wig. He shouts out – “one, two, one, two, three, four…”
Then silence. No guitar, no music. Dak looks over at Johnny and yells, “Quit looking at my girl Kitty’s tits and play that damm guitar”. He takes a swig of vodka from his hillbilly-jug.
Johnny yells out from his chair “I am Awakening to Reality and then Going Back to Sleep”. I laugh out loud; track five on the white album.
Over the Airport load speaker…”Flight to Boston is now departing from gate B8.”
I gather my stuff, pay my tab and leave the bartender a generous tip. I smile and wave goodbye to the members of Anonymous Society, think to myself about this brief, entertaining experience and wished that I would’ve ordered some food to go with all the jack and beer that I drank.
Sitting on the plane I pop the CD into my laptop. Double clicking the CD icon to play it, two quotes appear before the music will start.
“I do not care about my obituary; I only care about my spirit and vodka.”
- Dak Davis, lead singer of Anonymous Society
“I play this music to chase out the demons.”
- Johnny Ravioli, flamenco guitarist of Anonymous Society
Eight o’clock in the morning I awake in my hotel room in Boston. Turning on the TV I hear the news of an attack on New York's World Trade Center. I think about demons, innocent spirits, lives lost and that I need vodka…lots of vodka.
Later that day I find out that the plane that I exited that night was the same plane that the terrorists had entered onto to act out their evil. I think how I accidentally left behind that CD entitled Low End Spirituality. What an appropriate title to describe the culture of a terrorist’s thinking.
My Reptilian Brain Stem hurts, as I drink vodka to chase out the demons in my head.
4.23.2009
4.22.2009
4.21.2009
4.20.2009
Moment
Current Reading: The Age of the Unthinkable by Joshua Cooper Ramo
Current Music: LotusFlo3r by Prince
Smells: Paint & dust
Mood: Excited
Sounds: Printer
Temperature: 54 degrees & raining
Thoughts: Think like a gardener. (Applicable everywhere)
Current Music: LotusFlo3r by Prince
Smells: Paint & dust
Mood: Excited
Sounds: Printer
Temperature: 54 degrees & raining
Thoughts: Think like a gardener. (Applicable everywhere)
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