Experimental
Yesterday was… interesting. For most of the day, the kids were busy in their rooms, either cleaning, playing games, or napping. They almost enjoy napping as much as I do. Kat picked us all up around 5:00 and took us to the park. That’s when “The Monster Under My Bed,” which is how she prefers to be known, came out for some exercise. I mean, we have a decent-sized yard, but she really needs more space to hop and run around and chase ducks. She drew her fair share of strange looks from passing people, but she behaved well and didn’t attempt to eat any of them. She stayed close to me and didn’t fuss when it was time to leave.
From the park, we went to meet the rest of Kat’s family for Tipper’s birthday dinner. Tipper likes Mexican food but wanted something different than our usual restaurant. Verde was what was chosen. None of us had been there before. It seemed like a reasonable idea. Had I realized it was in the Ironworks building, just down the sidewalk from Ruth’s Chris, I might have suggested a slightly better wardrobe for everyone and I might have snacked more so that The Monster and I wouldn’t be as hungry. Although, after seeing some of the people coming out of Ruth’s Chris, maybe it’s not as big a deal anymore.
The prices were predictably high, $150 for a tomahawk steak, $23 for three tacos. I went with an $18 combination platter and made sure to not leave any crumbs behind. The food was good, much like my experience in Mexico: a hint of spiciness at the beginning, but mostly bland and easy to eat. The burrito Kat’s mom (Bubi) had was freaking huge, but neither she nor Grandpa Larry ate much and ended up taking 98% of theirs home. They tend to be the worst food critics, constantly commenting on everything from the amount of salt to the food’s position on the plate. Everyone else devoured their food, except for 1-year-old Harper, Kat’s neice, who was more interested in playing with the clip on G’s jacket.
The only problem I had was just how incredibly loud the place was. I was seated right across from Bubi and Grandpa Larry and couldn’t hear them well enough to hold a decent conversation. Tipper carefully positioned herself between me and Kat, not really in the mood to communicate much with anyone else. For me to talk to Kat meant relaying the message through Tipper, so our end of the table largely sat their quietly waiting for the food. Ultimately, the noise got to me and I had to excuse myself from the building. Tipper promptly jumped up and joined me outside.
Before we left, they brought us back inside for the presentation of a giant piece of rainbow cake with a massive sprinkler on top. Those who can indulge in that much sugar (primarily those under 20) enjoyed the cake. Tipper finished off the last little bit of it for breakfast this morning. She and I then went back outside to wait for everyone else to finish their chatting. We watched the full moon rising, talked about how easy it was to see inside the apartments that had lights on, and how strange it must be to live in a place like that.
When everyone else came out, Tipper went and fetched “The Monster” from the car to proudly show everyone. She might have given Harper a bit of a scare, but she was already tired and clinging to her mom, so who’s to say? The Monster enjoyed hopping around the parking lot for a while before we went home.
I was hurting in every way conceivable by the time we left the parking lot. I managed to stay awake until we were home, but crashed almost immediately thereafter. I had never expected that noise would effect me quite that way. While I enjoyed getting to see everyone again (it’s been a year and a half), I would have to decline if we were eating at the same place. My body is still too weak to be out that long and under that kind of influence.
Then, the heartburn kicked in around 2:30 this morning. Fun. Thrill. I’m glad we had milk.
Temperatures dropped to 36 degrees by this morning. Both kids complained about having to wear their heavy coats again. The dogs didn’t seem to enjoy it all that much, either.
There are thoughts to make about other topics, but I think I’ll save those for later. I still have a couple more pictures of The Monster to share.
Maybe all that pasta isn’t a good thing
All my life I’ve heard, “You are what you eat.” While that is fundamentally true in an organic chemistry sort of way, diet has a limited affect on our personality, the decisions we make, our skills, or the portions of humanity we decide to embrace. A recent body modification convention, which I did not attend, reminded me how much we like wearing things on our skin and got me thinking what might happen if we wore what we ate? I’m not talking about all those times the taco leaks and we are stuck wearing hot sauce the rest of the day. What if the salad we had for lunch, or the peanuts, or the snack cake, whatever we most recently consumed, was reflected onto our skin until we decided to consume something else? As these pictures show, the effects are mixed. I think, of all these, Citrus and Mixed Veggies are the only ones I personally find appealing. Kat likes Tomatoes, though, and you’re welcome to have your own preferences. Click on any thumbnail below to view the collection full screen.
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Having come to the conclusion that I enjoy this manner of editing even when it takes several hours longer and at times makes me angry
Does it matter what anyone else thinks about my work? Well, yes, if one is wanting to be employed or wants their work to sell to an admiring public. When either of those are influencing what we do, then yes, the opinion of others matters.
For the moment, though, I am past caring. With long days of sitting here without any interaction outside of family, focusing on writing, and wrestling with what seems to be a growing number of health issues, caring about what someone thinks about how I edit pictures kinda takes a back set. Anyone who hasn’t purchased a picture before isn’t likely to change their mind and do so now, so why bother catering to that market?
Not that I won’t submit quality work to art shows if they indeed happen again. That’s always an option and it sits outside the online galleries that have yet to be worth the trouble of participation.
But what that means is that instead of whipping out a new set every week, this one took three weeks. Instead of whipping out 40 images a day, most of these took the better part of two days each. Inherently, that makes them more valuable but since no one’s buying anyway that’s not my concern. I’m more focused on whether they meet my goal of what I want from both the image individually and its place in the series.
These were shot on a plain white background, which is evident in the first image. We were a couple of hours into the shoot and the bottle in the model’s hand is empty for presumably obvious reasons. The effect of the wine was just starting to hit with the first image and grew as we progressed. No one was inebriated, but the buzz generated smiles and giggles that were entertaining to capture.
I can’t say I’ll stay in this funk. Part of me is anxious to return to straightforward editorial shots but for that to happen the environment for shooting them has to be safer for everyone. But for now, this is where we’re at. I have more images to edit, but I’m not rushing them. Each will reflect how I want to interpret the scene and situation. If that bothers you, that’s your problem.
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The best thing we can say is that at least it’s almost done
Okay, last post of the year. I traditionally give this spot to a look back and I’m not inclined to change that. Never mind that we snapped fewer frames than ever. We dropped back into the archives and still managed to come up with new material for 47 of the 52 weeks. Pretty good considering how rarely I’ve left the house.
And that’s all I’m going to say about it outside a huge THANK YOU to those who did manage to find their way in front of the camera. There were so many more I would have loved to have seen, but… Yeah, you know how that went. Next year? I’m not even going to guess. Maybe we’ll do 51 weeks of me nude. Maybe you’ll volunteer to take my place. Maybe $100 bills will fall from the sky. We’ll see.
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Why should kids be having all the fun?
After we got all heavy last week with the stuff about washing off this year, I felt a bit guilty. This is the holiday season, after all, and is supposed to be about joy and happiness and having fun. So, I watched a couple of old holiday movies to get me in the mood before processing this week’s images. What did I learn?
DO. NOT. GROW. UP.
Seriously. Any time Christmas is in danger it’s because someone lost that childlike innocence that allows our minds to creatively suspend reality and then they get lost in all the dark, dank, and horrible things going on in the world. Don’t want to deal with any of that? Then don’t grow up. Believe in Santa Clause. Okay, be careful with that or your kids might get a little upset and the lack of quantity under the tree and all. Santa still needs your help. But still, don’t grow up.
Obviously, we played heavily with this series. I’ve not done a holiday set like this in something like nine years. I’m rather loathe to pull out the snowflake brushes and fiddle with all the different sizes and directions necessary. But then, I thought, why not mix in some candy canes and wave forms? You know, take the experimental series to the North Pole or something?
These are light-hearted and fun, to be sure, but the underlying message is as true as the fact our model and the chair don’t match. DO NOT GROW UP.
Merry/Happy Everything!
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Taking a creative turn toward nature
Being quarantined over two months, not having the slightest clue when I will feel safe enough to invite someone back in front of my camera, is really pushing me to come up with creative ways of processing images. Part of the problem is that I’ve looked at the same pictures for so many years that I now find the originals a bit boring. Whether that might translate into something more interesting when I do start shooting again, I can’t yet say. I do know, though, that I’m likely to be more involved in directing models so that I have a greater variety of poses.
One of the things I’ve noticed in looking around various art sites is the popularity of butterflies and other elements from nature composited or layered onto images. The technique is so popular, in fact, that with some artists it becomes redundant after 20 or so images done in exactly the same style. To that end, the images below are likely to be the only ones you see done in this precise style. I’m not saying I won’t use some of the elements again, but if I do it will involve a very different processing style.
I also am not particularly moved at this point from the stark magazine cut-out style of compositing that is popular with a number of artists. Again, it feels redundant to the point that if I see another butterfly with an uneven white border placed over a person’s mouth I may have to puke just on principle. As a result, I deliberately worked to keep edges softer, often deteriorated, and in some cases completely obscure. In one piece, Floral Explosion, there are no edges at all, no lines, just vague shapes, and colors. Artistically, I like the softer touch and may eventually do a set of figure pieces that avoid lines completely, which would be abstract as hell but potentially interesting. Potentially. What exists as a concept in my head doesn’t always work out in reality. We’ll see.
Anyway, we’ve uploaded this set to Saatchi Art for purchase. No, they’re not cheap because they were incredibly time-intensive to produce. Everything we’re doing at the moment is time-intensive. Part of the purpose is to keep myself focused on creating so I don’t get lost thinking of how much I’m not creating. I hope you find something here you can enjoy.
This has been a hell of a week. I’ve spent more time talking with doctors and having blood drawn than I have in the past 20 years combined. To say I’m not having fun with this would be an understatement. We’re still waiting on final results but the prognosis is looking something less than peachy. That pattern looks to continue over the next two weeks as well, so I’m not going to be overly aggressive about shooting new material.
Also coloring this week has been a sad fact of life for two of my boys: they’ve each lost a co-worker to suicide. This is never easy no matter how many times it happens. Whether we particularly like our co-workers or not, we spend too much time with them to not be emotionally affected when something of this magnitude happens. I’ve been fortunate in recent years to not have to endure this but for my youngest son this was the first time and it hit him particularly hard. As a parent, I wish I could protect them from this pain, but that is part of our reality.
So, when considering what to process this week, I dropped back, again, to 2012 and picked up a set of photos shots in low light. Looking through the originals, I noticed that there were a lot of bad frames, images that were not positioned within the camera’s range in a manner that would normally be considered attractive. On their own, these bad frames are not useable. Together, though, with the right processing, they become interesting works of art.
There are only nine this week because there simply wasn’t enough time. Life is crazy. Life is fleeting. Sometimes, we need to realize the value in our less-than-positive moments. They’re still part of our lives and are important pieces in what makes our lives beautiful.
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Not everything we attempt turns out exactly the way we planned.
What I thought would be a good idea at the beginning of this week, wasn’t. In fact, it was an absolute disaster and being the rather stubborn-minded person I am I didn’t give up on the concept until the end of business on Wednesday. By that time, it was too late to shoot anything new for this week. There is a lesson to be learned here, but I’d probably flunk the test. I really wanted that concept to work and am disappointed that it failed so miserably.
Fortunately, one of the advantages of having worked with digital images the past 15 years is that we have an archive to which we can turn in moments like this. For this week, I dropped back to another rather experimental art project from eight years ago. These images were originally shot in February of 2012, using only a single lightbulb as illumination in a basement with a red floor (which tinted everything) and white concrete block walls. The nature of the original project, though, was such that those factors didn’t matter a great deal. Here are a few samples from that project.
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The posing limits imposed on that project were rather severe, so to come back to them eight years later and try to do something different makes the original concept feel rather limited. Because of that, I’ve chosen to not crop the new work. Instead, I left everything at its original ratio so that there would be plenty of room to play. In a couple of cases, that resulted in the model looking a bit as though she’s hanging out in the middle of space. While that’s not the best look possible, in the experimental sense it is not the worst sin committed.
I also didn’t use exactly the same processes on all the images. This is because certain processes blended better than others and as I didn’t have an extra 50 hours to do a full set getting some differentiation between images felt important.
Blending the processes was more of a challenge this week than it has been with others. There was a lot of posterization as the colors interacted. While there are plenty of people who like that effect, I tend to not be one of them, and I re-worked a couple of images to avoid getting as severe an effect.
All this reminds me that this is very much an experimental series. We try different things from week to week and sometimes they don’t work. This was one of those weeks. We learn as we go and hopefully can apply what we learned to the next set of photos.
Here is the limited collection from this week’s experiments. Click on a thumbnail to view the image full screen.
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Erotic art takes on a different tone as the absence of personality focuses one’s attention
Here we are already in February and I have yet to shoot a new frame with my camera. Yes, I’ve taken some snapshots with my phone, but I consider them more pedestrian, capturing a moment for memory or a concept for later development. In previous years, I’d be chomping at the bit to shoot but this year is different. First, I came into the new year with a four-week backlog of images. That hasn’t happened before and, to be honest, it was a relief as I didn’t have to try and create content at a time of the year when no one seems in the mood to shoot.
Just as important, though, without having new images to parse and process, I’ve had time to experiment, try new techniques and throw away what I didn’t like, keeping what I did, and then trying something different again. This week’s images are the result of that experimentation. When I was creating a header image for the front page of this website, I developed a composite process that I found interesting and immediately wanted to explore more. This is the kind of maybe-it-will-maybe-it-won’t experimentation that I’m reluctant to impose on a new set of images. Archived photos that were previously undeveloped are more appropriate.
However, working with archived images can present a problem as people who posed two or three years ago aren’t exactly expecting pictures of them to come popping up on the internet this morning. My resolution to that issue was to keep everything anonymous. Anonymous work doesn’t always play as well as we’d like but in this instance, it is perfect as the concept would be diminished by a full image with an individual personality.
What you see below are the ones that survived. I learned a lot about where this particular set of processes works and where it doesn’t. This needs to be a carefully selected group of photos where focus can be limited to a specific portion of the photograph, the not content of the entire image. Even with that focus, not everything worked. It’s also worth mentioning that this process takes about five times the effort of a normal photograph. A good day was finishing two images.
Be aware that I ramped up the eroticism on this set. That’s partly because it serves the concept well and partly because we’ve been a bit soft on that portion of the genre the past couple of years. My goal is to be less reticent in displaying what is real and genuinely beautiful in its own right. Still, this is NSFW and I would think twice before viewing them with children in the room.
As always, click on any of the thumbnails below to view the full set.
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Bondage concepts are popular but when we trade rope for chain it takes on a new dimension
Even though it’s only been two weeks since we posted a new set of pictures, it feels as though it’s been a month. I’ve been sitting on these for what feels like forever and am excited to finally be able to share them with you.
These were shot back in late October, but the origin story goes all the way back to August when one of our neighbors who had lived here for over 40 years decided to move to North Carolina. Among the many things she discarded was a box of rusted chains. I’ve been in this profession too long to let a prop like that escape so I snagged the box assuming that it was medium-weight tow chain. I put it in storage and waited for the right concept.
One of the issues with rusty chain, however, is that they can cause problems if one has any kind of cut or skin abrasion. The appropriate precaution is to make sure that whoever is going to handle the chains has their tetanus shot up to date. Not too surprisingly, not many models have needed to think about that one, so it took a moment before we found Cassandra who, to my delight, was up to date on her tetanus.
Then came the surprise of actually unpacking the chains and getting them ready. Did I have one length or two? What size were the hooks? What were my options? Low and behold, they were tire chains!
For those too young to understand, tire chains are designed to wrap around a set of tires to provide traction in snow and ice. They usually come in sets of two or four. In our box? One. Granted, it was a very large chain for a good-sized truck tire, but there was only one.
Suspending the chain and wrapping it around Cassandra proved to be fun and entertaining. As you can see in the pictures, she swung on it, hugged it, became completely immeshed in it before we unfastened it and let the weight take her down.
The end result is dramatic and erotic and enticing all at the same time. We still have another set from Cassandra waiting, but these were too exciting to hold back any longer. Click on a thumbnail to view them full screen.
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Anyone with kids knows that there are times when you just have to turn them loose outside and let them play—run out all the excess energy that’s been building up inside their little bodies. We hit that point with our little ones recently so we tossed em in the car, butts first, and drove to the nearest facility durable enough to handle their rowdiness. Upon arriving, we opened the doors and watched as they ran with abandon, like a couple of puppies let off their leash. They played until they were thoroughly exhausted, which takes about 10 minutes according to them, and then made them play for 50 minutes more, which they considered torture.
Being that it was World Photography Day, I decided that this would be a good opportunity to take some pictures of the munchkins as a reminder that there really are moments in their lives when we’re not tempted to duct tape them to a wall. The problem with that plan is that the playground is delightfully covered in shade, which is a benefit for everything except taking good, crisp photographs. At least, such is the case with my camera. I understand newer cameras don’t have as much a noise issue in low light as do older ones. I’m not blessed with a newer camera, though, because people like you aren’t giving me any money. Such is life.
Why do we need clear, crisp photos all the time, anyway? Okay, it’s understandably frustrating when we have one chance to get a final shot of great-aunt Matilda before she ventures off into the great scented-candle-beyond and her face is blurred. Or, at least, we think it’s blurred. What we miss, though, in our fanatical insistence on overly sharp-focused photographs is the alternative translation of shape and form that takes place when we allow motion to happen. Shapes morph and features change giving us a different perspective on a world that never stops moving.
So, we let motion happen. We set apertures tight and shutter speeds low and tried to stay still and let the motion happen. Of the 19 photos below, that approach worked in all but one. For that one, which is instantly recognizable, I apparently moved in the opposite direction of the child. The result is a photo that looks as though it has had a paint stroke filter applied. I assure you that hasn’t happened.
For the sake of reference, we’ve included the aperture and shutter speed settings with each photo. Click on any of the images below to view the full-sized set. Then, go out and give it a try for yourself. You might be surprised by what you see.
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Sometimes we just want to try something different
We like to keep our skills relatively sharp, you know? So, every once in a while we try something different. We had one of those days recently. This is the result.
As always, click on the thumbnail to view the entire slideshow.
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I have no trouble with my enemies. I can take care of my enemies in a fight. But my friends, my goddamned friends, they’re the ones who keep me walking the floor at nights! —Warren G. Harding
Walking the dog of the morning gives some time for quiet contemplation before life is cluttered by the day
Random. Thoughts I have while walking the dog each morning are just that: random. Naked. I don’t look at any news or check any headlines before we head out the door. I do put on pants, just in case I’m not the only lunatic up at 4:00 in the morning (and I’m not), but other than that I’m unencumbered; just the dog and I out for a stroll. He’s interested in finding a fire hydrant where he can pee (he has a favorite). I’m interested in sorting through my dreams and the thoughts that linger from the previous day.
Sunday morning is a great time for that manner of contemplation. None of the thoughts are necessarily huge or impressive in any way. Just thoughts that are worth thinking for a moment, and then we let them slip back into the quiet places of our brain until we might actually need them in conversation. These are the moments where we work out for ourselves exactly how we feel about a topic, the hows and the whys and the justifications. Walking the dog is good for the brain that way.
Having a dog to walk is important, though. When people see someone, especially a man dressed in dark clothes, out walking by himself in the middle of the night they tend to make negative assumptions. One evening, a couple of weeks after I graduated from college, I was walking through my neighborhood at dusk and a man comes rushing out of his house wanting to know what I was stalking him and his wife. I wasn’t, of course. But to claim otherwise was apparently calling his wife a liar. I could have used a dog right then. No one questions what you’re doing when you are walking a dog.
One of the things that popped into my mind this morning was a couple of pictures posted by a friend who now lives in California. She grew up here in Indy, was quite a free spirit, and posed for me on a few occasions. The pictures were of her and her mate, a British chap, out frolicking about in the California forests completely naked. The pictures posted, of course, managed to meet social media requirements, covering up nipples and such. I’m sure there are more revealing photos, though. On one hand, I’m proud of the two of them for taking those pictures. They didn’t hide their faces or do anything to deny that it was them in the photos. They owned their nudity and were happy in a way I wish everyone could be happy. At the same time, I was a little jealous that I wasn’t the one taking those pictures. I couldn’t be. I’m not in California. There aren’t enough people in Indiana who feel that free. They’ve all moved out West, or so it seems.
We went to a wedding last night. We took the kids along. The couple was beautiful. The mix of religious cultures was beautiful. The ceremony appropriately reflected who they are. Just before the ceremony was about to start, though, it rained. Stormed, actually, and quite seriously at that. The ceremony was held under a tent and most guests had already taken their seats. The tents didn’t have sides. My seat was along the edge. I spent the evening with my right pants leg completely soaked by the rain. I find the experience amusing. The rest of me was quite dry and the dampness did not impede my ability to enjoy the ceremony. The storm helped keep the kids in check, too. There was just this awkward sloshing sound as I was walking across the lawn. It’s a uniqueness that will help me remember the event.
I miss the days when people would just randomly stop by for a few pictures. Maybe they had a new outfit. Maybe they were just bored. Maybe they were feeling adventurous and enjoyed getting naked in front of the camera. All of those were true at various times with different people. No one does that now, though. Speedway isn’t as popular as Broad Ripple. No one comes over here then stops and grabs a burger or pizza on their way home. No one can park at our house then walk down the street to meet friends and go out for the night. I’m not convenient anymore. But then, none of those friends who once dropped by do the Broad Ripple scene anymore. They’ve grown up. Some have kids. Several moved away. We get older and we stay home. We don’t drop by and visit anyone. We do Netflix and nap.
The lawn needs mowing again, but I won’t do it today. I’m not inclined to spend an hour walking back and forth across the yard. Maybe we’ll get started on the fence, though; get some holes dug.
The dog’s choices of places to pee is rather random. Sure, there’s the fire hydrant, but as his nose is sniffing along the ground there is apparently some randomly occurring fragrance that triggers his bladder, forcing him to stop and pee right now. Why does he choose to pee where he does? I suppose I could ask that same question about humans, though. I’ve actively avoided wading into that whole bathroom argument because I consider the very concept to be among the most ludicrous notions ever concocted. Talk about finding a solution for which there was no problem, North Carolina’s HB2 did just that. There wasn’t a problem. Now, everyone’s talking about where to go pee and that’s just about the most stupid waste of time I’ve ever seen. If you’re caught up in stopping people from peeing in certain places, you’re dumber than my hound dog.
However, I did discover this video last night. The music is incredible. My only problem is that I’ve never seen Harvey Fierstein without facial hair. I wasn’t prepared for that specific form of nakedness. His bare chin threw me for a loop. Mr. Fierstein wrote on his Facebook page:
So, you don’t like transgender people? Have the balls to honestly say it. Today’s bathroom controversy is fueled by the same bigots that sought to ban gay and lesbian teachers forty years ago. All these years later they’re still hiding behind the claim that they’re only protecting their children.
These discussions are great opportunities to educate and strengthen the bonds that make us all one human family. But when I see discussions on social media proposing a Men’s Room for adult males, a Ladies’ Room for adult females, a Little Girls’s Room for little girls, a little Boy’s Room for little boys and then another pair of bathrooms for Little Boys with a parent and Little Girls with a parent… Well, it’s time to take a step back and laugh at our own absurdity.
Hmmmm, is that Wayne Brady in drag as Lola? I’m never quite sure.
Enough walking for this morning. My legs hurt and the dog’s ready to eat. Enjoy your Sunday.
All our best men are laughed at in this nightmare land. —Jack Kerouac
We awaken this morning to a nightmare of our own doing, a horrible and noxious reality that may haunt us forever
I may have told a lie during the night. Little man woke up about a quarter to three, crying from a nightmare. I pulled him up into my lap, gave him a big hug, and tried to reassure him. “Dreams are only pretend,” I said. “And bad dreams are not real.” Another big hug and he was able to go back to bed and sleep soundly the rest of the night.
But that part about bad dreams not being real? Yeah, I may have fibbed a bit on that one. Nightmares can be all too real.
Let’s fast-forward four years to the year 2020. There are 10 million driverless cars on the road, which has reduced the number of traffic fatalities; but those cars don’t always take us where we want to go as governments have the ability to override our instructions and force us to go where they demand. Everyone you meet is aligned with one group or another and even something as simple as buying a soda can result in you being charged as a spy. Few people gather at bars anymore and even fewer at churches. Quantum computing on the cloud has our entire lives connected to and controlled by the Internet of Things. Unchecked global warming has accelerated the acidification of the oceans to the point the Florida Keys and other coral-based islands are dissolving into the sea.
Racism is rampant and segregation is mandatory. People of religious faiths wear identifying badges and don’t intermingle. Those with no badge are regarded with suspicion but are the larger group and travel the most freely. Healthcare is available only to the rich and many hospitals have closed, their halls lying empty after the entire payment system collapsed. Living without debt is impossible because inflation wasn’t held back by plummeting wages. Women and LGBT groups have joined forces in an attempt to thwart efforts at minimizing the rights of both, with an increasing militantism necessary to protect both groups from armed right-wing militias running rampant. 80% of the US population takes required anti-depressants in an attempt to hold back rising suicide rates.
As incredible as that situation may seem, every last bit of it is a simple extrapolation based on current events and sentiments. While none of the scenarios are certain, each are possible given current developments and prevailing attitudes. The United States has always prided itself on being a country where anything is possible, but included in that “anything” is the opportunity for a nightmare such as the one described above.
Don’t say it won’t happen. Just six short months ago no one was taking the candidacy of a loud-mouthed, egotistical New York real estate billionaire seriously, either. No one thought he’d last through the first few primaries. Now, he’s the heir-apparent to his party’s nomination and should he actually win (don’t say it can’t happen) every one of the nightmare scenarios mentioned above could become true, based on his past and current rhetoric.
No one likes a nightmare and when we are small we take comfort in the fact they are just bad dreams. This is one nightmare, though, that could all too easily become a reality that not only fails to make America great but endangers our very future. We can put a stop to this nightmare, but only if those who are apathetic and lazy, those who think their voice doesn’t count, those who hold the opinion that fate is out of their hands, begin to speak up and make noise and participate in the public discussion at such levels as to not be ignored.
Life will almost certainly go on, no matter what the future holds, but do you really want to live in a nightmare?
It is our choices… that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities. —J. K. Rowling
Having all the latest bells and whistles sounds like a good thing, but how many choices do we really need?
Imagine walking into an ice cream parlor and there only being three choices of flavors, none of which you liked. Would you walk out? Perhaps we might imagine walking into a restaurant that advertised an all-you-can-eat buffet, but would only let you pick five items from which you could consume your fill; that wouldn’t be exactly what we expected from a buffet, would it? We like having choices and, a significant portion of the time, the more choices we have the more in control we feel of our situation. Yet, we do well to ask the question: how many choices is enough?
Yes, I know, the answer depends primarily upon the topic and perhaps even the circumstances, but in whatever the situation might be, it seems only logical that, at some point, the number of choices one has begins to deteriorate one’s ability to actually achieve anything. If for example, Baskin Robbins were to suddenly expand their selection to 438 flavors, one might very well spend such a long time deciding as to no longer be interested in ice cream at all and go elsewhere for a nice burger. There is in all things a point of diminishing returns where the number of choices becomes too many.
When talking about the post-processing of digital imagery, the list of potential choices seems endless. Even if one only uses Photoshop on its own, with no third-party plugins or filters, there are still more than a sufficient number of choices to address pretty much every situation imaginable. I’ve not yet found any critical artistic or necessary adjustment common to photography that couldn’t be performed in Photoshop in some way. With choices abounding what matters is whether one knows how to actually access and implement all the choices available. The preponderance of choices is so great, in fact, that a third-party industry has cropped up around creating Photoshop actions to help save on post-processing time by automating some basic choices.
Like most photographers, I have certain tools that are my favorites. I reach for them often and, at times, even shoot specifically for a given set of tools. I have what I need, or, at least, I thought so.
Last month, Google released it’s Nik Collection of Photoshop plugins. Free. I’m not sure how much the collection had cost previously, somewhere between $300-$400 I think, but now the collection is totally free and they’re even giving refunds to those who had recently purchased the set. I found the move interesting from a marketing perspective but didn’t think much of it beyond that because they didn’t sound like something I would need to use.
I take the same approach to the full Adobe Creative Suite. Are there some really valuable and incredible tools in the set? Yes. Can I see a potential use for those tools? Yes. But I don’t own all those tools because I don’t need them. They would just sit here and cost me money that could best be spent elsewhere.
Then, Friday evening, a colleague who had downloaded the Nik collection was telling me all it had in it and especially emphasized its ability to reduce noise. Noise is an issue for me because of the age of my camera. In low light situations, noise can ruin an otherwise good shot. He convinced me that the noise filters in the Nik Collection could fix my problem. So, first thing Saturday morning, I downloaded and installed the full collection.
When I next opened Photoshop, I groaned. There were so many choices I hardly knew where to start! I had watched the tutorial on eliminating noise, so I could find what I wanted, and it does work quite well. But what am I supposed to do with all this other … stuff? These tools expand my capabilities immensely or at least make a number of things easier. But with so very many choices how am I supposed to determine which ones are best for any given situation? Insert scream of panic here.
Take a look at the pictures at the top of this page. Both are composites of a photograph processed multiple different ways to demonstrate, I hope, just how confusing and complicated the number of choices can be, especially for someone who is already creative and always looking for something different. Which method I think is best is going to change based on what other art has influenced me lately, what kind of mood I’m in, and how much coffee I’ve had. I am sometimes criticized that my work lacks cohesiveness because I’m always moving on to try something new. Giving me these many choices hardly seems like a good thing! Consistency just flew out a window I didn’t have open.
Returning to our ice cream analogy, creatives are the type of people who walk into an ice cream parlor and, at least, consider all the options before making a choice. I know some who would have to actually taste all the options first. Given a certain budget, a specific amount of time, and sufficient desire, we run through all the options in our minds. Waffle cone or plain? One scoop or three? Or maybe a banana split? Or that brownie sundae looks good … Only when we have pondered all the choices do we make a decision, and even then we may spend the next three days second-guessing ourselves. If we do that with a limited number of ice cream choices, how do you think we respond when our creative choices number into the thousands? It’s a problem!
I understand why software developers put so much into a single package. How I use a piece of software is going to be different from how another person uses the same software. I’m not a product engineer so I’m not likely to use a lot of the 3D rendering tools available in Photoshop. My interest in graphic design is limited, so I don’t utilize the drawing tools as often or as proficiently as someone else would. Creative software has to be robust to speak to the myriad ways in which it can be used.
Still, it would be nice if there were a way to limit or perhaps turn off more of the choices so that they wouldn’t be sitting there looking at us, begging to be used. I don’t have time for this level of temptation. I’m four weeks behind on editing as it is! Too many choices are the bane of productivity.
Maybe we should all just go back to analog film.
Our fatigue is often caused not by work, but by worry, frustration and resentment. —Dale Carnegie
Creative people are often the most frustrated people because the more one tries something new the more likely it isn’t going to work
Most days, the right-brained business-oriented lines of thinking don’t necessarily mesh well with the left-brained creative directions we want to take. This morning was the exception, though, as I watched a video of Ian Bremmer, President and Founder of Eurasia Group, giving advice to his 20-year-old self. One of the first and most important things he says, and something I’m certainly going to incorporate into my compendium of advice, is this:
Most things don’t work— who cares? … Most things you try, most things I’ve tried, haven’t worked! And even when they do work it’s only because you tried them eight different ways and then finally someone says, “Okay kid, go away, I’ll give you a buck.” You have to not allow failure to affect your sense of self.
If there were ever a piece of advice necessary for every creative person I know, it is that last sentence: “You have to not allow failure to affect your sense of self.” Write that down. Etch those words on your brain. This is something you need to know merely know, but to understand and feel at your deepest levels of being.
Frustration is so very common for creatives because we do try things so many different ways so many different times and the vast majority of those times we fall flat on our faces. While we’re hopefully smart enough to not keep trying the exact same thing over and over when it doesn’t work, trying different things one after another and still not finding what works leads to a level of frustration that has many of us ready to bang our heads against walls.
Perhaps this is why creative people so often go insane, or, at least, are perceived as such. Repeated failure wears down our self-confidence. We like to think we know what we’re doing. When standing before a client we have to present ourselves as though we know what we’re doing. But when it comes to the actual act of creating something new, something different, something we’ve never done before, the greater portion of our efforts don’t work. They might come close, but if we’re not satisfied with the outcome, or if the client isn’t satisfied with the outcome, we feel we have failed.
There are actually many points of frustration for creatives. People don’t always take us or our ideas seriously. Not everyone looks at what we do as work. Because being creative often means long periods of contemplating, thinking, mulling over options and their potential outcomes in our minds, non-creative people often get the impression we’re not actually doing anything. Creative people, including Thomas Edison and Albert Einstein, understand the benefit of a nap, but to our non-creative friends we’re just being lazy. So, they interrupt us, ask us, or perhaps insist upon us, to do different things that have a greater appearance of productivity. All these things lead to huge amounts of frustration.
Resources, or a lack thereof, are also a frequent point of frustration. For example, let’s say I have a concept that requires 30 yards of chiffon; not tulle, mind you, because tulle and chiffon have different opacity levels, reflect light in different ways, and require different support systems and methods of stitching. The concept might be wonderful, but where am I going to find 30 yards of chiffon around Indianapolis and even if I do find it how am I suppose to pay for such an expensive material? Even when materials and resources are not especially expensive, they can be difficult to find or one may simply not have the knowledge base and tools to work with them appropriately.
Our frustration levels eventually become disabling. After so many failures, we give up. Why keep wasting our time, we think. There’s always someone pushing us to, “go out and get a real job.” After all, we still have to pay bills, buy food, keep a roof over our heads. Creativity doesn’t always pay the best and the gas company won’t accept your latest painting as payment.
How do we cope with such frustration? How do we keep going until something does finally work? Some drink until the pain goes away. Folks in creative states such as Washington and Colorado smoke until the haze in the air matches the haze in their minds, and sometimes in that haze they find clarity. Everyone has their own way of coping, but unfortunately, not all those mechanisms are positive. When our sense of self has been defeated we lash out, we say stupid things, we do stupid things, we behave in ways we later regret, we do things that ultimately are counterproductive to being creative. We grow all the more frustrated.
I can’t prescribe a solution for you. We each have to wrestle our own frustrations, our own demons, and find what works for us. Maybe it’s long walks. Maybe it’s traveling and taking in new scenery. Maybe it’s spending time with someone who understands. Whatever it is, we have to find that thing, that solution to our frustration, before it drives us mad. Take comfort in knowing that we all share in these frustrations, even if one runs a multi-billion dollar enterprise. Frustration is part of the human existence.
Not everything you may do today will work. That’s okay. You’re being creative. You’re trying, and the solution will come. Until then, keep trying. Survive. Continue.
Photography has always been about documentary, the depiction of the instant, a moment, sometimes a place. Each project is somehow an experimentation of a specific context or a character. —Hedi Slimane
The world of editorial fashion relies on entire teams of creative professionals. Hair stylists, makeup artists, wardrobe stylists, art directors, lighting engineers, and a host of other people all do their thing before a photographer ever picks up their camera. No matter how good a photographer might be, it is the strength of the team that ultimately makes a good editorial picture. Many of the same people work to keep runways sharp and attractive during this Fashion Week season. One is less likely to see what styles are worn on the runway if the hair and makeup don’t match that intensity.
Keeping a good team together is challenging. Creative and talented people are always looking to expand their skills and broaden their horizons, something that is difficult to achieve if one feels boxed in by the team with which they work. Experimentation is key, and that means taking risks that not everyone on a team may not want to embrace. While there are myriad beauty schools always turning out new stylists and makeup artists, only a small precentage understand or even care about editorial work. When we come across one who does, we celebrate and try to help that person grow their skills.
So it is with our friend Owen Tate. Owen is a 19-year-old student at Aveda Fredricks Institute in Indianapolis. Though he won’t graduate for a few months yet, Owen has already demonstrated a willingness to engage in a higher level of experimentation and shows a particular talent for creative problem solving even when plans a, b, and c don’t necessarily work as expected. Owen pushes himself by entering various competions. A recent editorial contest gave us the opportunity to work together with a set of models who really didn’t know what was going to happen. Our time frame was short, which created its own challenges, but Owen proved himself dedicated to the task, working late into the night even after having spent 12 hours at school.
What you see below are some of the results of that editorial work. Owen worked from a concept of art coming alive, a premise where he felt the models would not arrive neatly coiffed and made up, but rather messy and disheveled from having escaped their canvas-bound prison. We found Owen’s interpretation quite creative and well developed for one still learning. There’s no telling where Owen might land once he graduates and gets a bit more experience under his belt. I feel confident that he has the ability to become one of the best in the industry.
Please join me in celebrating the editorial experimentation of Owen Tate and thank you for supporting Owen and other cosmotology students like him.
The following article and photos, both by charles, were originally published in EspritNu, Vol. 1 Issue 1. November 2014, pp. 15-17. Reprinted here with permission.
EspritNu Cover, 11/2014
The honorable Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States John Roberts stated in his opinion for the unanimous court in Riley versus California that cell phones “are now such a pervasive and insistent part of daily life that the proverbial visitor from Mars might conclude they were an important feature of human anatomy.” While most consider the Chief Justice’s statement one of humor, those watching the gradual but certain merge of human and digital worlds found the expression far more serious and perhaps even worrisome.
When Mr. Roberts speaks of “a pervasive and insistent part of daily life,” he is referencing the preponderance of personal and private information that is held in digital form for each individual. Even if one does not own a cell phone or has never set eye upon the Internet, there still exists a collection of digital information, a catalog or dossier if you will, of details such as birth records, land ownership, marriages, divorces, employment, credit and medical histories, education, and most anything else that might touch public record in any way, shape, or form. As that information is bought and sold, accessed by friend and foe alike, each touch adds to the digital image of who we are. The more one is involved in digital matters, the more comprehensive that picture becomes. For example, I am composing this article from my phone and will proofread from another device, then an editor will have a go at it from yet another device not even in the same city, all without exchanging any form of physical media at all. Everything is digital. Therefore, as this article becomes part of my personal catalog, it contributes to the digital definition of who I am.
Eventually, one comes to the question of whether the collection of digital personal data might create sufficient sentience as to replace this carbon-based structure by which I am currently identified? Might machine replace human?
Here, matters become interesting, controversial, and even a bit frightening. Concepts of various forms of artificial intelligence have existed in ancient mythologies almost as long as we’ve been telling stories. Some tales credit deity, others credit demons, but it’s not until the 20th century that Karel Čapek’s play R.U.R. (Rossum’s Universal Robots) gives them the name that we’ve come to meet with uncertain anxiety. Robots existed in one of the first movies Metropolis, and H. G. Wells wove them into tales of science fiction that still stimulate our fears and fantasies.
For some, such as Google’s Ray Kurzweil, the inevitable amalgamation of digital with biological is wonderful as it opens doors to greater opportunities and discoveries. Others, such as Elon Musk of Tesla Motors and SpaceX, fear ultra-intelligent beings would find us carbon-based life forms slow, flawed, and useless. Philosopher Nick Bostrom makes a rather stimulating argument that we are already puppets of some universal “Matrix” device and that we’ve no concept of true reality. Plenty of scientists and philosophers disagree strongly with all these opinions.
Argue though we may, our lives unquestionably grow more digital with each passing day. There is no returning to a purely analog existence. Some slight digital component exists for every human on the planet. We may either embrace our digital persons or run from them, but we cannot hide; they already know where we live.
How we behave in public is something we guard closely. There’s always someone watching, always someone ready to judge whether what we are doing is appropriate for where we are and whom we might represent. One step out of line and someone is sure to say something or, worse yet, bitch about it all over social media. The situation has gotten to the point that one has to question whether one is genuinely free when one has to always watch over their shoulder for someone with a phone taping their every move.
What we hide are our desires, that part of us that really doesn’t give a fuck about being appropriate and longs to give in to our more instinctive nature. Perhaps that desire is to wear fewer, different, or even no clothing. Perhaps that desire is to sing at the top of one’s lungs. Perhaps that desire is to smoke something that is still stupidly illegal in their state. We all have desires that we hide, or at least mute, but desperately long to let loose.
I am fortunate to have friends who are willing to let the camera see a part of them that can’t be shown publicly. This is a short set, only five images, but what we’ve done is attempt to juxtapose how one is presented in public versus how they might prefer to express themselves. Reality versus desire. If you could, what would you do? Would you let me take pictures? Think about it.
2021 In Review: The Final Year
Our last year started slow but ended with pictures to carry into 2022
This was the year that broke the proverbial camel’s back. After 37 years, we decided that the costs were too high, the effort too great, and the frustrations too often to bother continuing as a photographer. Officially, we pull the plug on New Year’s Day, but barring some exceptional occurrence, we’ve already taken the last picture. The camera is safely stowed in case I decide to pull it out again, but it’s out of the way, out of sight, and hibernating. One of my chores today is to remove the lights from the back of the car and store them out in the shed along with my tripod and reflectors. We’re done.
Sort of. As slow as this year started, the last six months have been full of activity, much more than we’ve had time to process. Much of this was intentional. I wanted to have enough new material to still enter juried shows for the next couple of years (assuming they survive). As a result, I still have several hundred unprocessed images waiting for my attention. I won’t release them as regularly as I have before, and when I do it may be a single image rather than a full set.
From a public perspective, we’re taking this website into archive mode. There will be no information about booking or hiring. We’ll re-work the portfolios and they’ll take a dominant position on the front page in video format. New material will be toward the bottom of the front page and most easily accessible through social media posts.
Can I be coaxed into shooting again? Maybe. We’ll see how it goes. If I do, it will be on a shoot-by-shoot basis. The concepts need to be original and enticing, something I’ve never shot before, and the people involved need to be exciting. And it will cost more. Just getting everything checked and out the door is going to be more of an effort, so the price is going to be higher. No, I still won’t shoot your wedding. I’ll officiate if you ask (yes, I can do that), but I won’t take pictures.
So, here’s a brief glance back at what we did this year. There’s not a lot. Jan-April was pretty slim. We didn’t post anything the entire month of May because there wasn’t anything to post. That’s largely what prompted this decision. As always, click on a thumbnail to view to collection full screen on your device. Thank you for all the years you’ve watched, encouraged, and commented. We’ll miss you.
-charles
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