And I Made Something

Last term was a train wreck in about 30 different ways.

But, as a great philosopher once said, "don't dwell on the past. Always move forward."

And on March 29th, the spirit moved one Oregon photographer to take an exceptionally boring image. Everything starts somewhere, though, right?

Artist Statement #1

A recent lecturing artist I saw reiterated the idioms for creating good art work when in a pinch:

1. Make it big. If not, then...
2. Make it red. If not, then...
3. Make 1,000 of them

These are all gimmicks. They're things to get people to pay attention to work that otherwise wouldn't merit attention. We've all done it. At least I know I have. Maybe minus the red part. I've never really been a fan.

Gimmicks are abundant in photography. Selective coloring, hand coloring, printing the leaders, soft focus, cross processing, the unsharp mask, the image macro, and the granddaddy of them all: HDR.

But all photographers miss the one major thing inherent to their medium: photography itself is a gimmick.

Photography alleviated painters, drawers, and printmakers of the "need" to work representationally. Photography was a novelty, albeit a cosmically amazing one, when it was first invented.

Thus photography's relegation to the backseat of the artistic merit bandwagon.

Photography is an even bigger gimmick now, when anyone can pick up a cheap digital SLR, throw a high pass filter on their work, get a million hits on Flickr, and rake in a few decent paychecks on Smugmug.

But rather than get caught up in the fickle fight to rescue photography from its gimmickry, we should embrace it. Let photography do what it does, and let's not worry about what all of those painters and drawers think.

Now go and make some LOLcats.

Philadelphia (And Other Updates)

On Thursday, I'll leave Oregon for the first time since January for sunny Philadelphia and the Society for Photographic Education's National Conference. Hopeful highlights: food, friends, and presentations that had better be good.

The end of March will see some of my work in two shows in New York's Climate Gallery. Book pieces. Small ones.

An overhaul of my website will take place once the conference and this hectic term are at an end.

A Real Life Artist

Word came down from the heavens Friday that the postcard I submitted to Postcards from the Edge, a show in New York's ZieherSmith Gallery, was purchased for the astronomical price of $75. (Note: all postcards were sold for the same price.)

You can click on the above link and find the Flickr group of un-purchased postcards if you want one for yourself. It supports a good cause.

My image is below.

Famous in Chi-town

Ext., book number 3 in the Book-in-a-day series, was accepted into notBig, a juried show in southern Chicago. notBig opens on December 11th at the Logsdon 1909 Gallery on South Halstead and runs until January 2nd of next year.

This selection follows right on the heels of a piece that was recently in a show in Los Angeles. Had it been a juried show, I would have posted about it. Seeing as it was unjuried, I decided to keep it mum.

Ext. is a collection of text messages from my old cellular phone, typed out in chronological order. The messages from friends and family date as far back as 2006, when I started graduate school.

Select scans from the book are posted below. The book's cover is not pictured, as it is covered in plain, old tan library buckram cloth. Nothing special.

Saying goodbye to a friend

Today we pay our respects to Petey, who passed away tragically this afternoon from mysterious causes. I first met Petey this morning as I was leaving to go to work. He was perched on my front lawn, under the gutter spout, letting drops of water fall onto his face.

One of my neighbors left some cashews out for Petey. When I returned this afternoon, Petey had moved on to a better world.

Petey, a Steller's Jay, may leave behind a Mrs Jay or some baby Jays, though they were not seen in the vicinity. Funeral services were held at 3:10 pm, when Petey was buried near the creek next to fallen plums that matched the color of his feathers.

And cousin? Business is a-boomin'

Halloween has come and gone. And it wasn't until I was smearing foundation and lipstick on my neck to make a lynching scar that I realized I like the whole idea of dressing up. My Lt. Aldo Raine costume went over pretty well, kept me nice and warm, allowed me to freely ride my bike around town, and gave me an excuse to make a knife out of wood, cardboard, and duct tape.

And, spend un-quality time playing in Photoshop, ripping off poster ideas from the movie. It's what I do: copy things.

Anniversary

Yesterday marked the two-week anniversary of truly learning subjunctive tense. Funny how it took me this long to learn a common part of everyday language.

In grammar, the subjunctive mood is a verb mood typically used in dependent clauses to express wishes, commands, emotion, possibility, judgment, opinion, necessity, or statements that are contrary to fact at present. It is sometimes referred to as the conjunctive mood, as it often follows a conjunction. The details of subjunctive use vary from language to language.

So, you'd say things like, "if I were a painter, I'd probably die from lead poisoning." Even though "were" isn't the proper tense for the subject, "I," you use "were" to indicate that what you're talking about hasn't happened.