I Married a Photographer

The title is a quote made famous by Timothy Leary who spoke openly about taking LSD and like experiences.  Timothy was almost completely shunned by his colleagues, family and friends for his taboo research on the aforementioned drug and it’s effects on the human body.  Though he was made up by the media to sound like a madman, he lead his life speaking freely of his findings with drugs in regards to religion, life, sex and humanity.  He put no end to his learning about LSD and what he could experience from it.  He died while tripping on acid.

Stagnation can be such a creative linchpin.  It isn’t as simple as boredom or as complex as desire.  Having that creative rut is something every person experiences, a dam in the flow of ideas. Spinning wheels to get out of a mud puddle just gets you more stuck.  Sometimes if you lift your chin and tilt your head ever so slightly, you can see a whole new perspective.

Since the busy month of August came to a close, Dean and I have been re-tooling.  Taking a break from the constant task-oriented ‘Fest mode’ to a more mindful approach to the photography business.  This was something we decided early in the summer.  We knew just how exhausted we would be after the long weekend events and looked forward to having time to approach things with a fresh angle.  So we took a trip to the city; where there is always artistic expression and inspiration.  It really doesn’t matter what corner you turn or how long you stay, there is always something to do and see.  It was a much needed creative break for Dean, it was leisurely with culture to take away.  Since living there, I rarely ever plan anything when we do make the trip because I know that within a 10 minute walk there is something to pique our interests!

If anything to take away from this writing it is this.  Self-exploration and internal reflection are integral to connecting with other humans.  Art is one way we can connect.

Food for thought: ‘I don’t believe in photography as art or a job or anything. I think of photography as a language and I think a language should be used to speak, to say what you have to say. So the only things I have to say about my life and what I know about the world, is the way I see it. So, it’s not about photography… I think people should just use photography to say things and not just photography for the sake of photography… The world is full of talented photographers. The problem is just so many of them just don’t know what to say, they think life is one thing and photography is another but they don’t realise that photography is just a way to reflect what you are.’ ~Antoine d’ Agata

Everyone has a quirky behavior, at least to some degree.  I find a direct correlation between degree of artsy to strange behavior (there are exceptions to every rule).  You don’t need a Psych degree to determine this, hence my next facet along these lines.  Dean and I work in Bloomsburg, driving 45 minutes one way, which can be very draining not to mention boring.  On our route, we listen to NPR in the morning and pick apart their stories some of which I think are entirely fictitious; we try to avoid route 11 because of all the GMC traffic during our commute.  One morning after we had been into a year’s worth of familiar on the same route, I was half asleep yet studying the neighborhoods.  Passing farms, schools, little town churches which probably seconded as schools at some point, I noticed this odd little house.  The structure of the home was a run-of-the-mill 50s ranch type, shaped like a U, with the center portion of the home inset from the two sides.  Outward appearance was within the normal range of living except for this one ‘thing’.   I don’t remember if I mentioned anything to Dean at first but after a week or so I noticed that this ‘thing’ changed, not drastically, just enough to keep me coming back for more.

This is total speculation, from what I gather the residents of this home are either an older married couple or a mother daughter duo, in the last few years of life.  The ‘thing’ that I mention is a mannequin, female, probably about my build.  We’ll refer to her as “pretty woman”.  She sports a different outfit on average every 3 weeks and if it is raining, she’s either using an umbrella or covered with a poncho and mask.  I have only photographic evidence of one wardrobe but  besides the majorette outfit, she has worn a blue Easter/Spring type dress, heavy red cloak with black detail and a patriotic red, white and blue outfit with a flag pring top hat.   Not only do Dean and I bat ideas around about this home and the inner workings thereof but we enjoy glancing over to see what this woman is wearing.

My guess is that the resident used to be a seamstress (how or why else would one have a mannequin?), she’s made these outfits in her hey-day and maybe wore them at some point too.  The effort to dress a large doll, who resides on your porch everyday I think it’s strange for a few reasons yet I kind of get it.  I loved ‘playing Barbies’  at about the age of 12, I realized that I have enough friends and varied intrests that I don’t need the Barbie world for me to make my own choices and enjoy life.  On the other hand maybe she’s a disgrunteled employee who used to work for Mattel!  Once, I saw her taking off pretty woman’s poncho and thought There is the mastermind!

Standing in the lush, green grass on a warm Summer day, I could almost hear it. I looked in front of me and if I thought hard enough I could have seen the hundreds of thousands who gathered there. I would have been there had I been born 10+ years earlier. In my life, I have only been to about 3 places where I really tried to relive the history that took place in those infamous settings. This was one of those experiences; the other two being the corner of Central Park West and 72nd St along with 5th Ave and 57th St both in Manhattan. Though time has changed this place -and every other place on Earth, I tried very hard to throw my mind back to 1969 and really take in what Woodstock meant. I envy people who lived during a time, when the nation, as a whole, cared about what we did and who we dealt with, when everything was not at your fingertips and that human interaction wasn’t just for parties. I missed my generation by a long shot, I made a mark on the world when the 17th most requested pop song was “Rainbow Connection” by Kermit (yes, The Frog), disco was taking a turn for the worst and purple eye-shadow was all the rage! Ugh!

Photographing people and events is really timing and luck. As an artist, you have to emphasize being in the right place at the right time. Thankfully, no two artists are alike which helps in the grand scheme of things -how boring would that be? While at the Woodstock area, we toured the museum. It was CSN’s 2nd appearance as a band, The Grateful Dead played in the wee hours of the night so a lot of participants didn’t even remember them and Jimi Hendrix’s performance was at 0900, Monday morning; I learned a lot! As a Beatle fan, I found that their mark on the musical world was mentioned frequently though they had nothing to do with the event itself. Man, I love the 60s! With all this said, we (Dean, our daughter & me) had such a great time strolling through the museum, piecing the events together, reading, watching footage and taking part in a sliver of life we all longed to be involved in. Dean did take a few photos, some of the Yasgur Farm located adjacent to the concert area. However, much of that area looks so very different, a poorly paved road cut through 3-4 parking lots, beautiful buildings housing oodles of art work, an amphitheater, port-a-potties, event tents in various sizes and a massive wooden gate to keep admirers off that coveted lawn. Which, in all honesty, if we visit again, I am going to take a running start to my longest log roll ever down that historic hill! The town of Bethel, NY seems quaint and sweet. The one major roadway housed several tie-dye experts, and abandoned toll booth building and a couple homes. We stopped to chat with one tie-dye merchandise seller, who was very hippie-esque. A 10’ x 10’ tarp roofed stand, nestled between what I assume was his house and the main road, he donned one of his own creations, helped me search though his products for the perfect T-shirt and gave us a steep discount, followed up by his business card -which also is tie-dyed! If you feel so inclined, please send some business his way by clicking here www.tyedyhippy.com Pics to come.

We have really thrown our time and efforts into our stands for the next two big events Bloomsburg’s Car show and the Art Fest.  Designing and ordering t-shirts, banners, making up order forms, our days have been packed with planning, working, eating, sleeping and more planning. Its a lot of work but enjoyable.  It finally feels like we’re taking our raw ideas and making a business name for ourselves.  I find that with each step we take business-wise, we’re eons from where we started.
Most recently, Dean has worked on a set of shots from a car show that feature the sexy parts of cars.  He calls it car porn, which he posted on his flickr account.  The collection consists of single shots that may or may not have been cropped, to show the off curves and sexy features of these amazing vehicles.  When he was working on these, I only saw one of the finished images. It was the grill of an old Dodge (I’m guessing), the car was a shiny deep blood/maroon red, of course it was immaculate!  The man who had it at the show wasn’t the owner but he told me that he’d pass our card on to him.  What I thought was unique about this car was it’s grill, long, lean and clean it had this sort of boastful look to it.  Proudly sitting in a neat row with lots of other well kept vehicles, my eye was drawn to it.  Dean took a few different views of this car but this single final shot was so sharp, I was speechless. Take a look through the entire set, let us know what you think.  Another one of my favorites is the one of the rumble seat.

After a long hiatus of not reading for leisure, more specifically, not reading anything interesting for leisure.  My husband bought me a book on our recent trip to California.  I like reading and I enjoy it even more when I can commit to completing a book.  I used to read all the time, I always had a book in my hand.  After passing my boards, I would look forward to pouring myself a glass of wine, spending the evening on my bed or futon and diving into a good book.  Since Dean and I have been married I think I finished one book (In Cold Blood by Truman Capote),  just measuring a milestone to a milestone.
With all of this being said, my writing skills are severely crippled.  When I don’t read for a creative outlet, I cannot write with much of a flair it becomes clinical and concrete.  When I was a Chemistry major at Bloom, I had to take a few gen eds my first 2 semesters, one was Comp 1.  I found that when I applied myself to the topic, I did very well at expressing how I felt and why I felt that way.  It became a great tension release, eventually I found that I somewhat relied on my writing to help me work through my problems.  So let me give it a whirl again.
On a Summer morning, one of the Pennsylvania summer days where at 9 am the weather is that cool muggy feeling.  You walk outside and you can feel the layer of  humidity stick to your skin.  I zipped up the lap-top bag and walked out the front door.  Running over The Checklist.  I have this tendency of doing the check list before I leave the house, fridge door closed tightly, toilet running,  stove off, iron unplugged, doors closed, windows shut, etc.  Really the way I was raised, this list could go on forever. I reached to my ears, slipping my earrings on while getting into the passengers side of the car.  Though on the drive we had light conversation about the future’s events, I ran through how and when I should approach people when I am out; and one thing I make a point to do is wear something memorable.  Identifiable.  For example, when Dean and I decided to go to the Children’s Miracle Network motorcycle ride at Quaker Steak and Lube in Bloomsburg, I had starfish earrings on and my hair styled in pigtails.  That should be easy to spot, right?
As the morning progressed, the sun beat down hard on our shoulders and noses forming beads of sweat that no matter how often you wipe them off, reform in the same spots seconds later.   We approached the entrance gate where a woman stood, wearing a baseball cap and a bright orange or yellow vest, as if we’d all have a hard time seeing her without it.  Dean, wearing one of his tie-dye shirts, grabbed his camera equipment, strapped it on him and away we went.
Lined on the south by the river and the north by the edge of town, the open fields of the airport were a welcome setting for a car show.  We entered the grounds and turned left toward an open macadam lot where, in clear view, were the hangars.  After zigzagging through  the crowd of people and beautifully shiny chromed-up cars, trucks and bikes, we were  fortunate to find a ton of friendly people who permitted us to take photos of their vehicles.  I remember thinking that by 1130, the sun was so bright and unobstructed that I could barely look at 50% of the vehicles. Much too too shiny and clean!  Ouch!  We made it a point to give out as many business cards as possible, meet and mingle with as many people as we could and really sell our idea and skill.  Looking back, I think that it was a great marketing move.  Word of mouth is still one of the best forms of advertising out there and when people can put a face to it, how can we go wrong?
Well, I’ll tell you how.  The evening before the car show, Dean and I were playing around with the flash on the camera.  Trying  different lighting techniques, etc.  As one of the settings on the camera changes the white balance to compensate for the different lights one can shoot in. The entire collection of photography taken at the car show was done in an incorrect white balance.  Now thanks to technology, all of those types of errors can be corrected through a few different programs.  I can’t recall the software that he did end up using but thankfully, he could correct them.