Uncategorized

Independence, Done Well

July 3, 2015

For My Birthday (2012)

“I do as I please, Monsieur Beauchamp, and believe me, what I do is always well done.” ― Alexandre Dumas

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]As you are reading this, chances are I am on my way to Chattanooga to see the boys. Well, at least one of them, maybe. The oldest is happy to be working the holiday weekend. Pvt. Letbetter is taking a short leave with friends in L.A. So, the youngest is, by default, stuck with Dad. This is what happens when children are raised to be independent; they grow up and go do their own thing with their own friends. Maybe they’ll send pictures, if they happen to think about it, but chances are we’ll have to prod them just to make sure they’re still safe. While I’ll miss having the other two around, this is ultimately a good thing. They are exercising their independence and it would be inappropriate to attempt to prevent that.

I never have understood this whole trend toward helicopter parenting; hovering over one’s offspring as though the umbilical cord was still attached. Loving one’s children does not require smothering them with so much of your attention that they become unable to sufficiently function without you. As much as we love our children, we need a break from them and I’m quite sure they welcome not seeing our faces for a few minutes. We want to be accessible when they have a legitimate need for assistance, such as kissing a boo-boo after they’ve face-planted the sidewalk (just as soon as we stop giggling about how funny it looked). We don’t want to shadow them to the point they lose their identity in our desires.

One of the larger playgrounds we frequent with Kat’s little ones is the perfect place for them to run and play without us needing to eyeball them the entire time. They run, they play, they make new friends, and when they’re sufficiently exhausted they come find us. We then tell them to go and play thirty minutes more because we don’t want them getting a second wind on the ride home. This is not just an exercise in independence, this is an exercise in wearing the children out so they’ll fall asleep without two hours of argument. We love going there.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]However, I am always amused by the parents of their peers who never sit down and take advantage of the intelligent way the playground is arranged. They stay right there within arms reach, not letting their child take even the slightest risk, manipulating their peer relationships, and managing their playtime. I’ve noticed these parents don’t stay at the park as long and I can only assume that it’s because they exhaust themselves more than they do their children. Some parents just have an emotional need to be close to their children; I get that. Their children, on the other hand, would probably do much better if mom and dad would back off just an itsy bit every once in a while.

Independence is something into which a child should grow, not something to which they flee out of desperation. Yes, they are going to make mistakes. Yes, they are going to fall, or get lost, or have heart breaks. How else does one learn how to manage the challenges of life if one’s parents are there rapidly applying salve to every little scrape and preventing them from experiencing the natural consequences of their actions? We’ve seen the adults those children become and it’s not attractive.

Many of the models with whom we work now are close in age to my own children and I often find myself making comparisons. Were they to be like the model in today’s picture I would be happy; she’s independent, ambitious, knows what she wants and is in control of her future (to the extent anyone can be). Not many people we meet are so impressive. She’s had more than her share of challenges and has weathered them well. She loves her mom, but she’s unquestionably her own person.

Maybe we’ll only see one son this trip. That’s quite alright because we love all three enough to let go and let them become who they need to be. Laws of nature demand baby birds leave the nest and fly. We just hope they’ll send pictures. That’s independence done well. [/one_half_last]

pop culture / PotD

Friend of a Friend

July 2, 2015

Dancers (2010)

“And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.” ― Thomas Jefferson

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Social media has evolved very quickly and at this point it is almost easy to forget that a mere seven or eight years ago we were all on MySpace rather than Facebook, loading our profiles with too many things that blinked and photos that were too large and videos that took forever to load. One of the peculiarities of that application which now seems rather absurd was the ability to not only see someone’s friends, but to dig down and see their friends’ friends and even their friends’ friends’ friends. I’m sure the concept in the beginning is that it would help people with similar interest find each other. No one really thought about the stalking aspect, or that employers would actually use that against people.

Yes, you read that correctly. No, I’m not kidding. I saw it happen. I was hanging my photos for an exhibition in a coffee house and a group of three ministers from a nearby church took a table near me and began talking about a fourth colleague, the church’s youth minister. The primary focus of the conversation was that the senior pastor had gone through the youth minister’s list of MySpace friends and then gone through the lists of friends of his top ten friends (creepy, no?). Within that second group, the friends of friends, was found one young man who had posted a photo of himself holding a beer bottle. That was all the senior pastor needed to see. Obviously, by his judgment, the youth minister was not sufficiently careful in whom he befriended and, therefore, must be fired.

I’m not sure what bothered me more: that the pastor would dig so very deeply to try and find an excuse for firing his young minister, or that neither of the other ministers present rose to the youth minister’s defense; they both very quickly agreed with the senior pastor that the youth minister would have to be gone before the next Sunday, which was only two days away. Such shallowness, such cruelty, and such absurd reasoning struck me as not merely non-Christian, but a severe level of Authoritarianism that was not only unreasonable among the clergy but in any employee/employer relationship.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]We tend to think of independence as something defies our need of anyone else. Yet, as Jefferson intoned, we need friends and allies who are equally committed to make our independence actually work. While it is admirable to think and do things for one’s self, realities of life require some network of colleagues or friends, no matter how loose it may be, who might offer assistance when reasonable and necessary. Part of being independent is choosing exactly who it is we wish to have standing with us, and for whom we ourselves might choose to stand.

When I was a child, my parents very carefully chose my playmates for me, cautious to make sure that neither the child nor the child’s parents might prove to be an improper influence. Almost the instance I moved away from home, however, I took no time in expanding my circle of acquaintances to those with whom my parents would not have approved. Over the years, my circle of friends has included witches, drug dealers, shamans, a whole host of LGBTQ people, strippers, prostitutes, and yes, even Irish Catholics. While not all of those ultimately upheld that friendship, a surprising number did and there are still several within that list that I could call for help right now and know they’d come running.

Independence is to not be under the authority of someone else, but it does not exclude the need for friends, and even friends of friends. The test of independence comes not in who we choose as friends, but in our ability to not let our friendship become an encumbrance upon anyone else. Not only must we value our own independence, but that of our friends. Among those with whom we might pledge our lives, our fortunes, and our honor, there are no labels nor any form of moral judgment, for when they are genuinely friends any other title is irrelevant. [/one_half_last]

PotD / Social Commentary / Uncategorized

Independent Thought

July 1, 2015

Tied To TV (2006)

“No man is great enough or wise enough for any of us to surrender our destiny to. The only way in which anyone can lead us is to restore to us the belief in our own guidance.” ― Henry Miller

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Our obsession with media was predictable, and widely predicted. Even by 1964, when television was allegedly in its Golden Age, children’s author Roald Dahl saw the enslavement factor so obvious as to include it in one of the characters in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Saying matters have only grown worse since is a severe understatement. Not only have we become more enslaved by media, but we continually create new forms of media to keep our minds, and our opinions, closely tied to whatever output mechanism manages to keep our highly unreliable attention for more than five seconds. We know we’re addicted and that our habit is bad for us, but we are absolutely unwilling to even attempt to break the cord, firm in the belief that we are better off with the knowledge that media imparts.

Granted, there was one a time when media such as printed pamphlets and newspapers were beneficial. In fact, one can reasonably argue that our country’s Declaration of Independence from England would never have happened if not for the influence and information distributed by Thomas Paine is his Common Sense pamphlet. Since 1837, the press has wielded sufficient influence as to be referred to as the fourth estate (a reference to pre-revolution French society divided into the estates: the clergy, the nobility, and the commoners). As the reach of the press grew, so did its influence. In 1897, Francis P. Church validated the presence of Santa Claus by telling little Virginia that, “If you see it in the Sun, it must be true.”

As the reach of the press grew, so did its influence. In 1897, Francis P. Church validated the presence of Santa Claus by telling little Virginia that, “If you see it in the Sun, it must be true.” Edward R. Murrow was the voice of all that was true in the 1950s and following him Walter Cronkite became known as “the most trusted man in America.” Not that everything in the field of journalism was always reliable, but there was a basis of trust and expectation of honesty that allowed people to ingest their information with a sense of security.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]The media monster to which we are now tied has no sense of security to it at all. We have gotten to the point that we allow the media we consume to do all our thinking for us. If something is not validated by our preferred source, then it simply cannot be correct. That multiple sources are never in agreement doesn’t seem to bother us. We choose sides and assume that one is always wrong while the other is always correct, when often the truth of a matter is nowhere near what we’re being told by any major source.

Thomas Paine said something that I think is poignant:

There are two distinct classes of what are called thoughts: those that we produce in ourselves by reflection and the act of thinking and those that bolt into the mind of their own accord.

Notice what is missing from that definition: external influence. Not that Paine expected people to just automatically know everything, but rather he expected that they would take information, such as what he produced, and use that to think, reflect, and come to a reasonable opinion of one’s accord. There’s not accommodation here for allowing any external party to make our opinions for us. In fact, Paine and his peers would find the degree to which we’ve surrendered our thought process to be quite alarming.

Declaring Independence from media is difficult. One has a need to be reasonably informed and the expectations of today’s society are such that one’s need for information is almost immediate. At the same time, though, we should never allow that media to do our thinking for us. Talking heads spouting opinion rather than fact need to be severed from the public arena and not fed their diet of shares and likes and hashtag mentions. We need to take time to step away, to reflect on what we’ve been told and form our own opinion, then see what thoughts might bolt into our minds of their own accord. [/one_half_last]

PotD / Uncategorized

The Independence of Equality

June 30, 2015

Think Pink (2010)

“With the spread of conformity and image-driven superficiality, the allure of an individuated woman in full possession of herself and her powers will prove irresistible. We were born for plenitude and inner fulfillment.” ― Elizabeth Prioleau, Seductress – Women Who Ravished the World and Their Lost Art of Love

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]When 70s model Kelly LeBrock purred the words, “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful,” women everywhere suddenly rushed out and purchased Pantene™ shampoo. While the line was fully intended as a reverse-psychology ploy to sell beauty products, the problem LeBrock and every other attractive model faced then, and faces now, is that people do hate them because of their beauty. There is this mistaken idea that being beautiful somehow discounts one’s intellect. Sadder still is the fact that too often that anti-beauty bias comes from other women.

I can’t speak for every model, of course, but have the advantage, having photographed the young woman in today’s photo on numerous occasions, to know that she is a strong, intelligent, extremely creative, entrepreneur who, yes, is very attractive and, yes, has enough self-confidence to stride naked into a room full or horny men and leave with their balls in her Gucci® handbag. There is no putting her in a box. She appreciates a sincere compliment, but will verbally eviscerate anyone who tries to patronize her, especially in a sexual context. The fact that she is attractive is a bonus that compliments who she is, not retail wrapping that attempts to define her.

Where we run into problems is that taking pictures of one’s personality is rather difficult. Capturing intelligence on film is playing to a false stereotype at best. I could, in theory, take pictures of her working, but that would require considerable explanation and in the end does no better job telling one who she is than does the picture above. I grow rather tiresome of the crowd that seems to think that physical beauty and being a respectable person of intelligence and depth are two separate things. To disparage beauty for intelligence is just as wrongly biased as those who would mistakenly disparage women in favor of men. Both are equally wrong and equally damaging.

Part of being independent is being able to step up and say, without quiver nor anxiety, this is who I am. Period. No justification, no apologies, and no conditional qualifying should ever be necessary. A woman who dresses in Prada is no better than one who duct tapes the inside seam of her pants together each morning. One of the most brilliant mathematicians I’ve known, a person whose command of numbers makes my head spin, was bare-ass naked when I first met her and didn’t give a rat’s ass what I thought about the matter. We forget that bias too easily runs in both directions and shaming a person for being attractive by assuming she is lacking in intellect is one of the most dangerous mistakes one can make.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]The proposed Equal Rights Amendment has been introduced to every Congress since 1924 and fell only three states shy of ratification in 1982. For reasons I fail to even begin to understand because they are so inherently foolish and ill-considered, these words are not yet law:

Equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex.

The fact that it has taken nearly a century and we still are not any closer to seeing those words in the Constitution than we were when they were first introduced is beyond shameful, an example of just how firmly entrenched social biases become. While we’ve made progress in the area of women’s rights, until those words become immutable law everything we think exists, every step forward we think we’ve made, is temporal and can be erased. The concept is so very simple, and the benefits so astonishingly plentiful, so as to make this amendment’s lack of ratification yet another very embarrassing stain on the United States’ record of civil rights.

At the same time, those who would champion women’s Independence hurt their own cause when they allow something such as position or physical beauty to become the basis of judgment. This isn’t a new battle, either. Consider these words from the 16th century:

“If I follow the inclination of my nature, it is this: beggar-woman and single, far rather than queen and married.”
― Elizabeth I Tudor

If even Queen Elizabeth I felt that the judgments of place and standing impeded upon her Independence, we cannot expect attitudes and practices to change simply upon the force of a social campaign. Attitudes must change, children must be taught, and we must stop looking at beauty and nudity as the antithesis of intelligence and worth.

Being Independent must give one the right to be exactly who and what they are, even when that means being fabulous.[/one_half_last]

PotD / Social Commentary

Beyond The Declaration

June 29, 2015

Patiently Waiting (2011)

“I will not be “famous,” “great.” I will go on adventuring, changing, opening my mind and my eyes, refusing to be stamped and stereotyped. The thing is to free one’s self: to let it find its dimensions, not be impeded.” ― Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Ah, Monday; that point in the week in which boss’s try desperately to pull employees back in from the distractions of the weekend, and last week, to focus on the work that lies ahead, focusing on what needs to be done next. The task is not easy. When such celebration has occurred on so many different fronts the temptation is to try and keep the party going for as long as possible. After all, who doesn’t like a party? Sure, we know one can’t party all the time, but do we really have to go back to work just yet? Can’t the celebration go on just a little bit longer?

Fortunately, there’s Facebook where we can be as shallow and meaningless as humanly possible and therefore totally deny the fact, on a cosmetic level, that there is work to be done. Half my friends have rainbow-fied their profile picture so that, as more than one person has pointed out, my newsfeed looks somewhat like a Skittles™ factory just exploded all over the place. That alone will keep us from ignoring the important strides that were made last week. Everyone jump on the bandwagon, even if you can’t plan an instrument.

Independence doesn’t stop on one event, though, and for many people today is just another Monday. The kids are off to daycare. The car needs a tuneup. Don’t forget to call and make the baby’s six-month appointment with the pediatrician. Sure, Mommy and Mommy may have gotten married over the weekend, but on a practical level the commitment was already there and this morning, well, it’s pretty much back to work. The presence of a ring on a finger doesn’t change the fact that the newlyweds could, in some states, still lose their jobs, be denied seating in a restaurant, or have difficulty adopting. [/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Independence is an every day declaration that one will not let the world overwhelm them, that one will not allow themselves to be injured by the biases of others, that two steps forward does not then require one step back. While the label on this liberty may be new, the challenges of upholding this Independence are much the same today as they were this time last week. One still has to stand firm, one still has to be defiant in the face of ignorance, and in some states one might even still need to engage in acts of some civil disobedience to simply get their government to abide by the law.

Look at the date on today’s picture. When it was taken in 2011, what they were doing, having a baby as a lesbian couple, was groundbreaking. They couldn’t marry. Their families weren’t necessarily supportive (some members were, others not so much). Society totally shunned them. Healthcare laws worked against them. At that point, less than 15 percent of Americans said they supported equal marriage rights. For couples like this, the freedom gained last week merges with, and perhaps adds some glitter to an independence that has been growing for several years.

Make no mistake, there is a shiny newness to the Independence now available to our LGBTQA friends, but as they claim that Independence that realize that this is just a marker along a journey that is not yet complete. An important marker, to be sure, but just as that Declaration of Independence ignited some difficulties between those new US citizens and King George III, this Independence also faces challenges. Maintaining Independence is often more challenging that its declaration. Welcome to Monday. Time to move forward.[/one_half_last]

PotD / Social Commentary

An Independence Of Your Own

June 28, 2015

Being In Control (2010). Model: Angela Denton

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.” ― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I anticipate a lot of talk this week about Independence and what it means. There will be a lot of flag waving, a lot of history (heavily slanted to match one’s opinions), and a lot of chest thumping on the part of Americans. All that is well and good, I suppose. We’re coming into this week all riled up because of everything that happened last week and it probably does us well to take some time and really look at our heritage, the good, the bad, and everything in between. While I’m not sure an honest assessment has ever been possible (the victor writes the history books), to understand why our country was founded and the conditions for that declaration on July 4, 1776 is an obligation we have as citizens. If there’s one thing on which our country is largely united, it is that our Independence is well worth celebrating.

Plus, we really like to blow stuff up. I mean, we REALLY like to blow stuff up. The bigger, the brighter, the louder, the better. I don’t know how it is where you live, but my neighbors have already started, much to my chagrin. I’m an early riser. These posts don’t write themselves, after all. Being that by 4:30 AM I’m usually up and slinging various curses at whatever piece of furniture upon which I’ve stubbed a toe, I typically can’t help falling asleep around 10:00 each evening. This week, however, my neighbors have taken to random acts of patriotic celebration just a wee bit early. Their timing is perfect; just as I’m about to doze off, BOOM! Blowing stuff up is a time-honored means of celebrating our country’s Independence. Folks get upset when one complains.

We also like to take this time to brag about how great America is and tout all our accomplishments over the past 239 years. Nothing wrong with that, either, though one might argue that the list is getting shorter rather than longer. As the world changes, military and economic powers inevitably come and go in terms of superiority and influence. We do well to be proud of our country, but should be cautious that we don’t allow that pride to blind us to our own shortcomings and the need for continued progress on more issues than I have space to list here. Flying an American flag means little when beneath that flag there are still people starving, homeless, and relegated to second-class citizenship for any reason.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Independence is more than just a national thing, though, and if we’re going to celebrate it we should look as much at the individual side of that word. Personal independence, to not be under the influence or reliant upon external entities of any kind, is something many of us tout, but few actually have. Those who do are often labeled as troublemakers because they don’t follow along blindly with the group, or loners because they don’t have the need to be constantly surrounded by people who agree with them. Independent women, especially, are likely to be insulted, referred to in unkind terms, and outcasts from male-dominated portions of society. She may even be told that she is violating the tenets of her religion. If that woman happens to be a person of color, her independence is likely critical to her survival but be sure she will be criticized at every step for expressing that independence.

By now you are likely asking what any of this has to do with today’s photo. Provocative, isn’t it? I chose this picture because if there is one place where personal independence has exploded it is with our sexuality. We have gone beyond occasional expressions of one inclination or another to fully embracing who we are, who we choose to love, and how we choose to express that love. We have also tossed out the window the reliance on old stereotypes and are beginning to let who and what we are in the bedroom extend to more of our lives outside that space. Look at the picture and you see a young woman who is very much in charge of the moment, exercising her independence in a very personal way.

Personal independence takes many different forms and what is appropriate and necessary for one may not fit another. Independence for a child is being able to go to the restroom on their own. Independence for the elderly may be caring for themselves in their own home. Independence for a wounded warrior may be the ability to stand on prosthetic legs after losing theirs to an improvised exploding device. Independence is being able to exercise the right to vote without unnecessary rules getting in the way. Independence is being able to proudly say I am who I am and no one can tell me to be different. This is the independence worth celebrating. Fireworks optional.[/one_half_last]

PotD / Social Commentary

And The Living Is Easy

June 27, 2015

A Quiet Moment (2012). Model: Sarah Harris

“All in all, it was a never-to-be-forgotten summer — one of those summers which come seldom into any life, but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going — one of those summers which, in a fortunate combination of delightful weather, delightful friends and delightful doing, come as near to perfection as anything can come in this world.” ― L.M. Montgomery, Anne’s House of Dreams

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]So much has happened this week. Global media and the Internet hardly know where to turn because the amount of excitement, and in some cases concern, is overwhelming. We do well to focus on one thing at a time and this week has seen the country grapple with issues of race and symbolism, healthcare, affordable housing (hope that one didn’t sneak past you) and marriage equality. We’ve been so very busy with what’s going on in our own country that we’ve largely ignored anything happening elsewhere. Greece appears to be going into default. The self-proclaimed Islamic State killed dozens in France, Tunisia, and Kuwait. China has been selling 40-year-old meat. The Vatican officially recognized the Palestinian State. This has not been the quiet summer week I had anticipated when we started on Sunday.

In fact, if this is how the summer is going to start, I’m rather fearful of where we might go next. Both of the really big Supreme Court rulings have been handled now. There’s no more good news left to immediately anticipate. Should we be setting ourselves up to deal with disaster, death, and destruction? Certainly, there are some who are calling for such in the wake of this week’s rulings, but we tend to look upon those as extreme views, and, like almost everything Americans say, we don’t actually expect anyone to follow through on those threats.

Summer is that time we want to just live in the moment, not worry about what happened yesterday or might happen tomorrow, but throw caution to the wind and enjoy what is happening right now. Certainly, we need those moments. We need a lot of those moments. Our minds do not respond well to this constant overflow of information and we desperately need and long for days where the valve is shut off for a few minutes and we can just soak up the sun and give our minds time to process. If we keep going at full tilt, then we put our health and perhaps even our lives in danger. Stress kills and has a large arsenal of weapons at its disposal. [/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]At some point in the future, maybe ten or even twenty years from now, we might look back on this summer and remember something, but what will it be? Will this week’s SCOTUS decisions be the highlight? For those directly affected by the outcome, perhaps so. I have friends from high school who were quite anxious about applying for a marriage license yesterday. For the rest of us, though, there remain several weeks of summer where we might still find even more monumental events. If so, I do hope they are happy ones.

Not everyone gets happy summer memories. Another friend’s father died today, rather unexpectedly. I don’t have to wonder how he’ll remember this summer. The obituary page is never empty and for every name listed there is someone whose summer has been devastated. So it is with every summer. Some win. Some lose. Some are fortunate if they come out even. Kat’s little ones might remember this as the summer of their first garden. Some will remember this as the summer of the great floods, while others remember the severe droughts, dramatic water rationing, and life-threatening heat. Everyone’s experience is different and everyone’s memory unique, even when it’s faulty.

So, perhaps it best that we end this week of summertime joys with a moment of reflection, looking back on all that has happened this week and pondering what might yet come down the road. If you are lucky, perhaps you can do that pondering while sitting on the end of a springboard, dangling your feet in a pool. Maybe you can have the moment of reflection while sitting in the shade of a great tree or snuggling with a pet. Whatever your situation, take a moment to turn off the intake valve and rest. There’s still a whole lot of summer left to enjoy.[/one_half_last]

PotD

To Lie Sometimes On The Grass

June 26, 2015

Afield In Summer (2013)

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” ― John Lubbock, The Use Of Life

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]One of the greatest joys of summer is taking the time to just be. Not easy, I know. That whole “work so you can eat” thing keeps interfering. Even with the garden beginning to yield produce, that still takes a considerable amount of time to tend. And there are children that demand attention as well. Boy, do they demand attention. “Can I have a snack?” “I need a drink!” “When are we eating lunch?” That last one usually comes within ten minutes of having finished breakfast. Kids being needy at home during the summer is why so many parents favor year-round school, you know.

When you can find the chance to sneak off for a few moments, even if it’s only for a half hour or so, just being able to take that time to yourself is just as good as a healthy dose of medicine. Unless, of course, you have allergies, in which case you might actually need to take a healthy dose of medicine before enjoying your healthy dose of medicine. I mean, really, who wants to spend all their alone time wiping their own snotty nose? You don’t want to be the one sneezing all over the place, either. All that noise scares off the wildlife and drowns out the babbling brook. If you’re going to spend quiet time out in nature you don’t want to ruin it with your own noise.

There’s nothing quite as peaceful as sitting in the sun, surrounded by tall grass, leaning back, watching the clouds go by. Go ahead and get naked if you want, feel the summer breeze blowing across your skin. Just be sure to use plenty of a high SPF sunscreen while you’re out there. Even if you tan easily like I do, you’re skin only produces a limited amount of melatonin and when it’s gone there’s no replacing it. Cases of skin cancer have been steadily increasing over the past 30 years. My father died from complications due to skin cancer and he never sat naked in a field. You just have to be careful about those things.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Ah, just to have a moment to unplug and dream, to let one’s imagination soar as high as the summer sky. Is there anything as glorious as watching eagles and hawks swooping and gliding overhead? Critters closer to the ground are something for which one has to watch out, though. Especially ants. Man, let me tell you, nothing ruins a quiet moment quite like setting your naked derriere on a mound of ants. You’ll be needing to call the doctor and have him prescribe you some cream for those bites, and good luck getting anyone to actually put it on there for you. Even if you are lucky enough to have a nicely shaped butt, there’s no one who wants to see a mess of ant bites.

Maybe you can find a cool stream to sit beside, kick off your shoes and dabble your toes in the water for a while. You can just feel all your troubles and worries melting away, flowing downstream where they’ll never bother you again. That is, as long as there are no snakes in the area. We are in North America, after all, and even Alaska has snakes this time of year, I think. They’ll sneak up on you, too. They may not be there when you first sit down, but you stick your toes in the water and they look just like ten pretty little fish to a water moccasin. You don’t hear them coming, you know.

Yes, the outdoors in summer sounds like a wonderful place, doesn’t it?

Okay, let’s get real: that shit’s dangerous. You want peace and quiet? Lock yourself in an air conditioned closet and make sure it can’t be unlocked from the outside. Nature will kill you. I swear, it is out to get you and will bite your ass every time. Mosquitoes. Spiders. Suicidal squirrels. They aim for you the moment you step outside. They’ll get you. They’ll get you every time.

I’m kidding, of course. Probably. Go ahead. Try it. Let me know how it works out for you.[/one_half_last]

PotD

Like A Loaded Gun

June 25, 2015

Bikini Boating (2005). Model: Jade Lynn

“A girl in a bikini is like having a loaded gun on your coffee table- There’s nothing wrong with them, but it’s hard to stop thinking about.” ― Garrison Keillor

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]My late parents were amazing. Considering where I grew up, rural Kansas and Oklahoma, and when I grew up, through the 60s and 70s, they did a remarkably wonderful job of making sure we were exposed to important issues such as civil rights, conservation, and the importance of getting a good education. On those issues, they were surprisingly liberal.

On other issues, however, they could be conservative to the point of leaving my brother and I extremely naive. Of course, baby brother had the advantage of coming after me and usually knowing where I kept my stash of adult magazines. Still, there were many areas, especially in regard to sexuality, that were never considered ripe for any level of conversation beyond, “If you think about it, don’t do it; better yet, just don’t think about it.”

Not everything they did was intentional. Mother was almost deathly afraid of water and didn’t learn to swim until she was in her 40s. So, there were no afternoon trips to the pool when we were little. When I took swimming lessons, the instructors were, of course, dressed in conservative one-piece suits and when one is six one isn’t necessarily concerned about the physical qualities of the person promising to catch you if you jump into the pool. On rare occasion, Poppa might take us to a public pool, but when he did he dominated our attention. He was our life raft, our pool toy, our swim instructor, and favorite playmate all rolled into one. We barely noticed anyone else at the pool.

Then, there was the summer I was 14. Being 14 may be the most painfully awkward age for a boy to be, especially in the summer. There was always someone in the group who was more mature looking and talking about “making it” with girls. The rest of us tried to match his banter, but a quick look in the swim trunks revealed we weren’t remotely ready for anything much more intimate than, “hi.” Even if a girl had kissed us, none of us would have had a clue what to do next. I’m pretty sure a couple of the guys might have fainted. Fortunately, no girl ever put us in the position of finding out.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Being 14 meant our parents weren’t afraid of just dropping us off at the city pool and picking us up later. As long as we stayed in the shallow end of the pool, everything stayed nice and appropriately within our parents’ values.

Everything changed the day some kid dared us to jump off the high dive. Two of the guys in our group immediately chickened out because they didn’t know how to swim that well. Randy and I could, though, and Randy wasn’t about to chicken out on a dare … and he made sure I didn’t chicken out either. My heart was pounding as we climbed that twelve-foot ladder that felt every bit like it reached half-way to God. Randy went first and made it look so easy. I stood at the end of the board, thought, “If the fall doesn’t kill me, Mother will,” and jumped.

I hit the water, hands folded just as I’d been taught, and was pleased to feel no pain. I came to the surface, checked to make sure nothing was bleeding and swam for the side. I grabbed hold of the ladder on the side of the pool, looked up, and there she was. Her tan legs were long with water beading deliciously on her skin. Her teenage bottom was covered by her swimsuit and then my brain screamed inside my head, “OH MY GOD I CAN SEE HER BELLY BUTTON!” I looked up a little further and my head screamed again, “OH MY GOD, ARE THOSE REALLY BOOBS?” I was afraid to keep looking. Had she looked back my head just might have exploded.

Feeling something stirring in my swim trunks, I opted to just swim back down to the shallow end. I had, for the first time in my life, just witnessed a girl in a bikini, and it was glorious. Since then, I’ve probably seen tens of thousands of girls in bikinis (or less) and nearly all of them have been absolutely wonderful young women. None, however, was able to induce that same feeling of euphoria mixed with astonishment and sheer fear the way that first girl did more than 40 summers ago. One thing is certain, though: since discovering girls in bikinis, my summers have never been the same.[/one_half_last]

PotD

Skinny Dipping

June 23, 2015

A Morning Dip (2005)

“If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper…” ― Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]One of the joys of growing up in the country was slipping off on our bicycles in the middle of a summer afternoon to the low-water bridge about a mile from our house and going skinny dipping. Not that we ever actually admitted that we were skinny dipping. I’d get my shorts wet anyway so that Mother wouldn’t be suspect. Still, the joy wasn’t just in being in the shallow pool of cool water that flowed over that crumbling slab of concrete; the delight was being naked, au naturale in nature as though, just maybe, the gods had intended for us to be that way all along.

According to Poppa’s sermon, technically, that philosophy was right. While I didn’t have any direct proof that Adam and Eve ever went skinny dipping, if they didn’t have any clothes then they wouldn’t have had much choice, did they? The only other option was that they didn’t bathe at all and that would have just been gross, even if they were, in all likelihood, totally fictional. Even fictional characters should be clean, shouldn’t they? And little boys need to be clean, as mothers are so often fond of reminding them. Going skinny dipping always seemed like the perfect solution, especially if we had spent the earlier part of the day getting absolutely filthy.

Skinny dipping in that tiny little pool made our summers right up to the point when, mid-way through the summer we were 16, someone saw a water moccasin in our pool. I didn’t see it, but the scream of “SNAKE!” was all I needed. We were all out of the water and pulling on our shorts as quickly as possible while simultaneously, every one of us, trying to hold our hands over our family jewels. If there was one place on our body we absolutely could not stand to be snake bit, it was our penises. They had only just recently grown to a point of not being totally embarrassing. We didn’t want to lose them to a damn snake.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]That was the last summer in that little watering hole. We moved the next year and I was far too upset at the lack of attractive girls my age to be terribly interested in skinny dipping. There was that place way back on Turkey Creek that was suitable, but driving all the way out there was a pain and if it had rained in the past couple of days one was likely to get stuck crossing the pasture. I did sneak off a couple of times with that blonde I met at church camp. I’ve often wondered whatever happened to her… if only I could remember her name.

Skinny dipping is a bonus that comes with living in the country in the summer. City dwellers are much more uptight about being naked in their public pools. The model’s boyfriend let us into the pool at their apartment complex before the sun was fully up for us to catch today’s photo. We were early enough we didn’t think anyone would notice. Someone did, of course, and he damn near lost his job over it. City people really get stressed and worked up about these matters. Perhaps, just maybe, if they spent a little more time skinny dipping they might be better able to relax and enjoy their summer. If one can’t kick back and relax a bit when the weather is this lovely, when is it ever possible?

I’ve not been skinny dipping in over 30 years now, I’m sorry to say. It’s not as easy to slip off, not as easy to find a place suitably secluded, and as an adult if one gets caught it tends to result in the police getting called. That’s almost as bad as a snake bite; no one really needs either one. Still, I have some wonderful memories of those carefree days from my youth and even an old man can still fantasize a bit. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll stumble across the perfect little pool of water while no one’s looking. Who’s down to join me?[/one_half_last]

PotD

Summer Rain

June 22, 2015

Reflection in the Rain (2012)

There is more to sex appeal than just measurements. I don’t need a bedroom to prove my womanliness. I can convey just as much sex appeal, picking apples off a tree or standing in the rain. -Audrey Hepburn

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]This summer is getting off to a rather damp start, at least for the middle and Eastern parts of the continent. The West, well, not so much, but we’re not surprised by that. We were warned. But here, there is a river flood warning for some of the places around town that are a little too prone to the White River leaving its banks. And in Oklahoma, Texas, and Louisiana, anywhere along the Red River is a very dangerous place to be as flooding there has been higher than anyone can remember. While we’ve not had enough rain to set any records, at least none that I’ve seen, it certainly is unusual for use to be entering the heart of summer with the ground soggy, the grass still green, and local authorities talking about a water ban.

What has been frustrating, though, is trying to work around the rain and the fact that weather forecasts have changed several times a day as to whether we’re going to get wet if we venture outside. Most days, I check the forecast when I first get up of the morning and let my aches and pains fill in the blanks. The past couple of weeks, I’ve been checking more along the lines of every hour and finding that rain chances are bouncing up and down like a yo-yo. At one point yesterday the barometric pressure dropped a bit and I was more than ready for a brief but heavy downpour to soak the little urchins setting off fireworks in the neighborhood. Didn’t happen. The one lone storm cell went to our South.

Of course, when we want to take pictures in the rain, it doesn’t happen. At least, not where we need it to happen. Today’s picture was scheduled on a “drop everything and get over here” plan, which was only possible because the model was working evenings and didn’t live too terribly far away. As soon as it was evident that rain was inevitable, we made the call and still had to wait. On another occasion, a male model and I drove all over town trying to get in front of a heavy downpour. We missed it every time. Trying to get the weather to work with your concept plan is rather difficult. The skies just don’t want to listen.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Standing in the rain can be sexy as hell. Wet clothes cling to the body, outlining its curves, and sometimes giving us a hint of what lies beneath. Being wet also makes one appear vulnerable and as humans we respond to that apparent need to be rescued, brought inside and comforted. The romantic rushes to the rescue, towel in hand, hoping that a little kindness shown might lead to thankfulness in the form of intimacy. Unfortunately for the romantic, most people are remarkably independent and self-sufficient, not at all desiring any form of assistance, so not only will they not be needing your towel, the chances of any unplanned intimacy are practically nill. Poor chivalrous romantics never can catch a break, can they?

Playing in the rain is fun and the fact that we’ve seen a resurgence of rubber rainboots as fashion accessories emphasizes that point. There’s a freeing, cleansing, child-like quality to being out splashing in the mud puddles like we did when we were two, but without anyone yelling at us for getting out clothes muddy this time. Playing in the rain is carefree. If the hair style is ruined, so be it; we’re having fun, dammit! We can act grown up later if we must. For now, we just want this brief moment of splashing and frivolity while we can. We would much rather pretend, for a moment, that we haven’t any responsibilities and that there are milk and cookies waiting when we decide to go indoors.

Yes, yes, we must be careful of lightning. There’s nothing sexy at all about being zapped into a coma, or worse, while playing in the rain. Don’t take any chances. If you can hear the thunder you probably need to be inside. While being rain and wind swept can be sexy, especially if one looks like Ms. Hepburn, being dead in a pool of water isn’t quite so attractive and really can ruin one’s summer. Be safe. Have fun. Stay sexy. Enjoy the wetter part of this summer. [/one_half_last]

pop culture / PotD

Officially Summer

June 21, 2015

Cover Up (2012). Model: Danelle French

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Summer is officially here. Sure, it’s felt like summer across most of the Northern Hemisphere for several weeks, but with last night’s solstice we are officially into the season of relaxing and vacation and getting away from it all. At least, that’s the theory. In my mind, summer conjures up images of mowing the lawn, weeding the garden, painting the outside of various buildings, road work interrupting traffic flow, and other sweat-inducing things that also seem to only happen during the summer. Still, there’s baseball, hanging out at the ol’ swimming hole, and going for long walks in the cool of the evening (assuming the evening actually cools). Oh, and girls. Girls in summer are a joy unto themselves and that is exactly where our focus shall be this week.

Girls and summer have had this partnership for centuries. Summer provides the necessary heat and girls respond by shedding a few of the 37 layers under which they were living throughout the winter and most of the spring, reminding us that there really is a beautiful person under all those piles of cotton and wool. And boys? Boys respond by getting into trouble. Everytime. We fall in love with those beautiful girls of summer, and then proceed to do some of the most stupid things imaginable in order to make sure the object of our affection knows just how much we care.

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s book wouldn’t have been nearly as interesting had it been set any other time of year. He needed that pool as the catalyst for both romance and trouble. He needed the heat and the long days. He needed the impulsiveness, anger, and jealousy that young men feel more strongly in summer. Not that the story would have ended any differently had it been set in, say, autumn. People still fall in love and make stupid mistakes in autumn; they’re just not as interesting then as when we do it in summer.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Most of my favorite childhood memories took place in summer. There were endlessly long days on my bicycle, riding for miles along dusty roads, arriving back home in the evening tired, sweaty, and usually covered in dirt. There were the summer vacations, the two weeks Poppa would hire someone to fill in for him and we would take off on something that probably wasn’t going to be too adventurous but at least got us out of Oklahoma for a few days. Visiting relatives was a big part of the summer, too, as we had a lot of cousins which meant there would be a lot of food and, since it was summer, watermelon. I loved watermelon. I could eat my weight in watermelon. Good thing I was small.

Today’s picture matches the feeling of summer well. Taken three years ago, Indiana was experiencing an unusual heat wave with several successive days reaching temperatures well above 100. Having grown up in Oklahoma, 100+ degree days weren’t uncommon, especially in July and August, but in Indiana folks begin to melt at 85 degrees. 90+ is a danger zone. At 100 degrees, things began to stop. Outdoor work schedules were altered. Special precautions were necessary for the very young and very old. None of that shows in the picture. Granted, we were up at the crack of dawn and even then temps were already into the 80s. But Danelle does a wonderful job of shrugging off the heat and giving us the beauty and emotion of an effortless summer.

Summer is officially here, kicked off by a celebration of fathers who are happy to have one day where, hopefully, no one is asking them to do hot, sweaty chores. The days of beauty, frivolity, and romance are inescapable. Let’s just try to avoid Jay Gatsby’s fate, shall we?Girls in summer are wonderful … and sometimes dangerous.[/one_half_last]

PotD

When Memory Fails

June 20, 2015

: Beads (2008). Model: Anneliese Craft

“Every trail has its end, and every calamity brings its lesson!” ― James Fenimore Cooper, The Last of the Mohicans

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I don’t remember why we took these pictures. There’s a whole set of them with Anne giving me a variety of facial expressions. What baffles me most is why the finished images are cropped to a fairly tight square. The face is really all that is seen. Why would we do that? I have a feeling a now-defunct magazine in Cincinnati may have been involved, but I’m not totally sure even of that. It is entirely possible that the only reason we did the shoot was because someone (Anne? Nick?) had a truck-load of beads left over from Mardi Gras.

This is yet another one of those instances where investigating the further reaches of my archives really tests my memory and too often my memory fails. I have for years labeled digital archive disks the same way I once labeled negative boxes, with model name, concept name, and if necessary, series order. That works for about five years, though, and then I start getting confused. Cindy? Which Cindy? I’ve been eager to open a file more than once thinking I knew the contents only to be severely disappointed. It’s never that Cindy.

Compounding the memory issues are the models who’ve been prolific in front of my camera, such as Anneliese. I have over thirty concepts shot with Anne. Some were simply labeled with a location rather than a concept. Some are only labeled with a date (what on earth was I thinking?). Which ones include Jackson? Which ones were outside? What was the name of that other model in those shots? As I look through the long list of files I wonder how many of them anyone else remembers. Did any of them make a difference, or were we just shooting for our own amusement?[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Memory is a tricky thing, requiring the activity of a part of our brain that is already a bit fragile and frequently unreliable. So many things can diminish our capacity to remember, such as alcohol or some medications. Emotional trauma can erase our memory of entire events. One bad knock to the noggin and we can lose years of our own existence. And that’s not even figuring in the number of diseases that might affect memory.

Being able to remember is a big issue, and interestingly enough, pictures frequently help with that issue. For example, both my parents died while my boys were still quite young. While the older two remember visiting with them, the youngest was only four. They rely on picture and stories to keep those faint memories alive and valid. By contrast, I lost both my grandmothers when I was young as well, but there were few pictures of either of them. Keeping their memory alive in my mind is a struggle, especially as I get older. I also remember watching Granddaddy’s battle with Alzheimer’s and that scares the living crap out of me.

I should probably do a better job labeling my archives. I already have to rely on the image’s exif data to remind me when it was taken. There’s space in that data for more detailed notes and I would probably be well served to fill in that space. But then, that’s something else I would have to remember to do and considering I’m already not doing well in that category I fear the odds are well stacked against me. I’m just waiting for the day I click on a folder and think, “My, what beautiful photographs! I wonder who took them?” At least I’ll have the pleasure of being surprised.[/one_half_last]

Photography / PotD / Social Commentary

The Thing of Nightmares

June 19, 2015

My Own Nightmare (2009)

“The 50-50-90 rule: anytime you have a 50-50 chance of getting something right, there’s a 90% probability you’ll get it wrong.” ― Andy Rooney

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]A lot of people have trouble sleeping for a number of different reasons; for some medical, others emotional, and for some it is totally because they just watched the wrong movie before going to bed. It happens. Nightmares. We hated them as children because they were so wild and ferocious and creative. As adults, though, what we often hate about them is the fact they are too damn real. Nightmares for adults seldom involve exotic monsters drawn from an over-active imagination but, instead, come from real life, involving people we actually know and love, in situations we seem unable to stop.

I rarely have nightmares anymore. I don’t watch movies before going to bed. I’m careful to time my medicine. I pull my adventurous imagination back a couple of notches. And then, I don’t sleep that long. I’m blaming that on getting older. Typically, I can go a couple of hours before my body thinks we need to wake up and check the house for mysterious noises. But then, there are weeks like this one where it has rained every night, causing already problematic arthritis to go into hyperdrive, making it impossible to find a comfortable sleeping position for more than 15 minutes or so. The dark circles under my eyes are almost as black as my wardrobe. When one doesn’t sleep, one doesn’t have nightmares. A small consolation.

Then, there are the nine families in Charleston, South Carolina who are living a nightmare. Wednesday night was prayer meeting night. I remember what that was like. Every Wednesday, usually around 6:30 or 7:00 PM, the church doors would open and 15-20 people, on a good night, would trickle into the small sanctuary. We’d sing a song, Poppa would read a few verses of scripture, then would come the prayer requests. Every possible concern of the community would be raised, both personal and public. After about 30 minutes, they’d start praying, pray for another 30 minutes, then go home. Except, for these nine people, they didn’t go home. They were shot dead, right where they prayed, by someone who had sat through the whole service. A living nightmare in every possible sense.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Today’s photo was meant to be part of a composite where a beautiful young woman was awakened by a more frightening version of herself. The concept required shooting the model twice, once reclining in various states of slumber, and then again as the nightmarish self. Care to guess which this one is? Unfortunately, we only got one finished image from the set. I totally messed up the shoot, failing to mark my tripod settings correctly and thereby throwing off the perspective. Trying to composite the two pieces consumed days as I tried to correct the perspective and make something work. When I say there’s one finished image, it’s only because I eventually gave up and called it done. You won’t find it on display.

When I opened this file and took another look, though, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the makeup work of Kelly Oswalt. Sara Williams is such a lovely little wisp of a thing in real life and Kelly did an amazing job of creating something a little more terrifying. Even without the accompanying “beauty” piece, this makes for an interesting and striking image. I also had to giggle a bit looking at this, as Sara is now eight-months-plus pregnant, about to deliver her first child any day now. Perhaps Sara can threaten the child when she gets older with something like, “This is what happens to mommy when you don’t take a nap.” Of course, then the baby would have nightmares, and that just doesn’t help anyone, does it?

I wish we lived in a world where all our nightmares were those derived from imagination. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. As long as there is hate there will be nightmares like that of Wednesday night. Such events do not happen in truly civilized societies. In fact, the United States is the only first world country where mass shootings such as this are an issue. Our nightmare has repeated itself far too many times and we fail to even bother looking for a reasonable solution for fear it might keep one person from carrying a gun or somehow diminish the shooter’s rights, despite the fact he’s trampling the rights of others to live peacefully.[/one_half_last]

We can’t put a stop to all nightmares, but we can reduce them. We have no choice. Now is the time to seriously put a clamp on gun violence. This is one nightmare we must end.

Editorial

Where There’s Water

June 18, 2015

As summers go, this one has, to date, been rather mild in Indiana. We’ve had only a couple of days where the temperatures have squeaked above 90 degrees and the humidity has managed to spend the majority of the time below the 50% mark. All in all, we’ve certainly seen worse. Of course, it’s not over, but we’re not off to a bad start.

By contrast, 29 Palms, California, where my Marine son is stationed, has seen highs around 112 this week. Go ahead, talk about how it’s a dry heat, but what he’s doing means going without air conditioning, either. I’m pretty sure I know what he would tell someone to do with their “dry heat” argument. He’s a lot like his dad in that way. Poor kid doesn’t even have a decent tree to sit under for shade.

Summer is a time of beauty and where there’s water we just naturally expect to find pretty girls. So we were quite happy to enhance some of the local scenery by taking model Jenn King out to a place where the flood waters were not raging (which has been an issue) and letting her play around a bit. Sure, nature is quite lovely on its own, but can you honestly think of any stream that is not enhanced by a model in a crocheted swimsuit? Jenn was even a good sport and didn’t throw rocks at me when I suggested she actually get down in the water, which was apparently quite cool.

Cool and relaxing is exactly how we would describe these pictures. What better way could one find to spend a summer’s evening. Our thanks again to Jenn for coming out to play. We hope you enjoy the pictures.

Photography / PotD / Social Commentary

Look First In A Mirror

June 18, 2015

Twins (2009)

“As long as the world is turning and spinning, we’re gonna be dizzy and we’re gonna make mistakes.” ― Mel Brooks

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]You are an idiot. That’s okay. Don’t feel bad. So am I. In fact, applying the scale by which I measure myself, there are only about three people in the world that I would not put under that heading and since I don’t actually know any of those people personally it is quite possible that they are idiots, too. Here’s the problem: there is no measurable definition for what an idiot actually is (the APA discarded its use of the term years ago), which leaves the term open to mean just about anything I might want it to mean. The only aspect for certain is that it infers an insult directed toward one’s lack of intelligence. But how much intelligence must one have to not be an idiot? And is intelligence itself even enough of a monitor?

My father had what seems to be a pretty workable rule: judge others by what you see in the mirror. His intent was that we should be very much aware of our own faults and shortcomings before daring to judge anyone else’s. That sounds like a pretty good maxim and is probably applicable in a lot of cases. Yet, when we don’t like what we see in the mirror we are less likely to accept what we see in others, perpetuating a cycle of loathing that ultimately leads to destruction in one form or another. Without a reasonably healthy sense of self-esteem one’s base value system is likely to be askew.

Others would attempt to follow the direction of, “judge not, lest you be judged.” Zero judgement. I think there’s a gym that tries to apply that reasoning, hoping that people who are intimidated by the muscle-bound will use their facility to become more healthy. Yet, just as with any other gym, most people pay for the membership and never actually go. A certain amount of judgement is absolutely necessary. Are you healthy? Will you fit in those jeans without having to grease your thighs? Can you be trusted to handle the scissors without hurting yourself? Going through life without making any judgements at all can be quite dangerous.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]I look at today’s picture and can’t believe it wasn’t part of the set originally processed. Simply the different expressions on the girls’ faces tells a story of what it’s like to have a twin. How the hell did I miss this one? Obviously, I’m an idiot. What hurts even worse, though, is that I dropped the ball with these girls in helping them do more. Sure, I had my reasons at the time, but have since kicked myself repeatedly for not at least remembering their names. Yes, you read that correctly. Again, I’m an idiot. I have their names on a release, somewhere, but the motivation to actually go through the stacks of papers shoved in a box in storage has yet to hit me.

Judgements we make today don’t always hold up to future scrutiny. Sure, we can justify our decisions at the moment, but is our thought process in the heat of some emotion as objective as it perhaps should be? Rarely do we take the time to let something just sit, making no decision at all, until we can approach the matter rationally. Yes, some situations are more urgent than others, but isn’t one sign of intelligence the ability to know not only what decision to make, but when to make that decision? While waiting six years to process this image is extreme, might there have been a benefit to waiting a month or so before deciding to shelve it completely?

Maybe looking in the mirror a bit more often is a good idea. Taking a check of reality and one’s relation to it might be an activity in which we should all engage a little frequently. Not only might that give us a better grasp of the immediate tasks before us, but perhaps it would help prevent whatever it is that leads one to walk into a church and kill nine people.

Or maybe we’re all just idiots. Your call.[/one_half_last]

PotD / studio nudes

Leave A Simple Photo Alone

June 17, 2015

charles i. letbetter -leave a simple photo alone

Simply Beautiful (2015)

Just as I was sitting down to edit these photos, my email application dinged at me. I checked and was promptly informed that Adobe® had just released a major update to Photoshop®. My response was profane. I don’t like software updates because of the amount of time it takes after the install to figure out all the new features, consider how they can be used, and then get everything back to how I like it. I can easily lose a week’s worth of productivity every time a major software release comes out. Perhaps some of that is sheer distraction, but the update does me no good if I don’t know how to use the new tools included. Photo processing drives me crazy.

Post-production is not a job I enjoy. I would just as soon farm it out to someone else if I could justify the cost. It probably doesn’t help that I waffle back and forth on just how much post-production work is appropriate. Sometimes I’m all gung-ho about trying new techniques on a number of different photos. Other times, such as with today’s set, I’m more of the mind that simple is better and that the less done to an image the stronger that photo is. I once saw Horst P. Horst throw a notebook at a designer who wanted to dramatically modify one of Horst’s photographs. Horst was big on being able to go straight from camera to print with as little intervening process as possible.

While keeping the processing on these images extremely simple, we did make some conscious processing decisions as to the exact toning to use when we realized the extent to which the model resembles the late pin-up model Betty Page. Maybe it’s the bangs. Maybe it’s the body form. Ms. Page’s hair was more wavy, but when placing pictures side-by-side the resemblance was uncanny. As a result, we went with a photo processing method more resembling 1940s film.

What we end up with a set of pictures that are low on processing and high on beauty. Simple beauty that all the software tools in the world could never improve. Enjoy.

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PotD / Social Commentary

Anonymously Yours

June 17, 2015

Properly Accessorized (2011)

“I am glad that I paid so little attention to good advice; had I abided by it I might have been saved from some of my most valuable mistakes.” ― Edna St. Vincent Millay

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]How bad is it that we are still a good 18 months or so away from the 2016 presidential election and already I’m tired of the whole thing? With so many candidates having already announced their campaigns, each additional name added to the roster feels more like adding to the list of extras at the end of a bad movie no one really wanted to watch in the first place. Sure, eventually we’ll have to vote for a couple of these clowns, but at this point there’s too much noise, too much grandstanding, and too much absurdity to take any of them seriously.

I wonder what would happen if we forced candidates to run anonymously through the primaries, unable to present a name, a photograph, or even appear on Sunday morning talk shows in person. How would it change the process, and the number willing to run, if they were initially assigned a number and were forced to run strictly on the merits of their platform, with no personality involved? Would we be more careful about who we choose as our president? Certainly, we would want to reveal the names of the candidates at the party primaries, but in the circus leading up to that point what benefits might there be in ignoring names altogether and having everyone run anonymously, with no indication of race, heritage, gender, sexuality, or religious beliefs? I cannot help but think the process would be much better served.

Personality and ego are a detriment when one is considering who should hold public office, but yet those are the two aspects voters get heaped upon them the most often. In a crowded field such as what we are already experiencing in this cycle, we are forced to endure a constant battle of who can say the most socially provocative thing in an effort to get even 15 seconds of time on a newscast, or perhaps a small storm of controversy on social media. When over half the field of contestants is more well known for their ridiculous statements and social media gaffes than their actual platforms, we have a serious problem.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Sadly, one of the most frequent areas of unacceptable stump speech involves slut shaming and victim blaming on the part of candidates. We saw it too often in the 2012 election, and already the habit is rearing its ugly head in this one. Candidates mistakenly believe that by pandering to the very lowest and most ignorant form of voter that they can appeal to an under-educated and socially inept base to push them forward in the election. What they fail to realize is that the rest of the civilized world would really like to put those two issues to rest. There is never such a thing as “asking for it,” especially in regard to rape, and what a woman does or does not wear is not indicative of her sexual proclivity.

Such inappropriate attitudes toward sex and violence are one of the reasons we have had to stop giving names, even pseudonyms, to models who appear nude. We have had too many instances where technology allowed a model to be stalked after her name came up in some random Google search. With the increase in facial recognition software, I worry that, without any change in public attitude, we may be forced to limit figure art to anonymous forms such as today’s picture. Yes, today’s picture is quite lovely, but I’m always saddened by the fact I’m forced to crop out the model’s beautiful and expressive face because she rightly fears both social and professional backlash.

Anonymity can work both for us and against us. When it prevents ego and personality from obscuring fact and reality, anonymity is a good thing. When it allows shaming and inappropriate blaming to continue, though, anonymity is something that should perhaps be stripped away. I would dearly love to never have to crop another photo or avoid giving credit to another model to prevent putting them in any form of danger.

Maybe I should just run for president. Anonymously, of course.[/one_half_last]

Art / PotD / Social Commentary

Waste Not

June 16, 2015

Leave A Tender Moment (2010)

“I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being–forgive me–rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I hate waste. I don’t hate trash, mind you. There are things which, once expired, definitely require disposal. Waste, though, the deliberate misuse or ruination of something still usable, angers me. I hate wasting time, because there’s no guarantee that there is any more of it coming. I hate wasting of resources, especially those purchased with someone else’s funds under the expectation they would be managed efficiently. I loathe large, opulent displays of wealth wasted in the face of massive poverty.

As much as anything, I hate wasted food. I had to throw away a package of bagels today because moisture had gotten into the package and caused them to mold. Five perfectly good bagels gone because care wasn’t taken in preserving them properly. Those emotions crop up a lot and I’ll blame my mother in part for the constant reminder that there are always starving children somewhere. But then, my own brushes with poverty and hunger are an even more recent reminder of just how valuable a single bagel is to someone who hasn’t eaten all day.

The words “waste not, want not” are etched into my brain so strongly that almost any level of waste I observe stirs a negative emotion. Seeing massive amounts of food in a restaurant dumpster makes me momentarily swear off dining out. Observing whole rivers of polluted water makes me curse industrialization. Seeing the Coke lot the day after a race at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway makes me detest racing fans everywhere. Even this past weekend I was severely dismayed to look at the street after the Pride Parade and see it not merely cluttered but severely trashed with smashed candy and other litter.

We sadly live in a world where waste of every kind is far too common, far too excessive, and leaves far too large a footprint. Getting anyone to care is almost impossible.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Waste in photography fares no better and is one of the reasons for focusing on missed imagery this week. There are some shoots where the amount of genuinely strong imagery we capture exceeds the limits of reasonable display. I prefer to keep presentations between seven and ten images, since that is pretty much the sweet spot for the average person’s attention span. If we have a really strong set, I might go up to twenty. Beyond that, though, people stop looking. Their eyes glaze over as though you’ve just brought them a fourth serving of parmesan chicken, to which their bodies groaned in despair. No matter how strong the images are, beyond a certain point they’re just waste.

Perhaps the worst, though, is seeing wasted talent. Now, I have to be very careful here. I know there are some people whose talents are multiple and for reasons of sanity they are forced to choose; focusing on one or two while letting others lie dormant. I have sympathy for those people. What bothers me is someone who can clearly do well, either in front or behind a camera, and yet lets someone who fails to understand the artistry of either talk them into doing something far less creative, far more temporary, and far less fulfilling. I come into contact with those people sometimes multiple times a day and when I see them not doing what they could clearly do so well I want to cry.

Today’s picture is one from a set of gems that could easily fill a very large wall. I won’t attempt to over-analyze why this particular combination worked; the models didn’t have an especially intimate relationship, in fact they giggled through the first several minutes of shooting. Everything just clicked and the number of frames worth saving far exceeds what should be displayed in a single exhibition. So, today’s #POTD is an example in preventing waste.

Still, I must ask you to consider: what are you wasting?[/one_half_last]

Art / Photography / PotD

When Bad Pictures Are Good

June 15, 2015

Living In Color (2012)

“Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one’s mistakes.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I like this picture. I like this picture a lot, so it is a little surprising that I’ve not found an excuse to publish it before now. I like the lighting. I like the styling. The makeup by Sasha Starz kicks ass. One would think that this might have been the first picture from the collection that we would use, and if this one was omitted from the original collection then the others must be absolutely amazing. While the original set of pictures achieves their purpose, though, none of them has the photographic strength found here.

So, why wasn’t this image used? It was not what we wanted. It was a mistake. The original set was intended to showcase Sasha’s makeup using a very dynamic set of colors in an extremely contemporary style. To achieve our purpose, faces needed to be clear of any obstruction. This face is beautifully obstructed by the model’s hair, so it would not work for the desired purpose. That’s just the way things go in our world. In non-digital days it would have gone into the trash bin.

Photographers take plenty of bad photographs. We always have. I am amused now when someone comes across what they think is a treasure trove of never-before-seen old negatives or plates from a long-dead photographer and they decide to publish them. Rarely does one stop to think that perhaps there is a damned good reason why the photos weren’t seen before. Some were full of errors. Some were intended as nothing more than practice. Others were perhaps embarrassing or revealed something the photographer had no intention of ever making public. Yet, now they’re out in the open, quite possibly in violation of the photographer’s wishes.

I remember meeting a young Playboy Playmate, fresh off her gatefold shoot in Chicago. While gushing about how wonderful the experience was, she expressed disappointment that, prior to taking the shots that would eventually appear in the magazine, photographer Arny Freytag had taken several Polaroid shots that littered the studio floor. After the shoot, she went to pick up one of the Polaroids as a memento and was immediately, and severely reprimanded. Those Polaroids, she was told, were the property of the Playboy Corporation and no, she could not have one. Playboy and every other successful magazine and ad agency have long understood what many have not: Losing control of the bad photographs makes the good ones worthless. [/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]When digital photography first began to rise as the medium that would eventually replace film for most applications, we saw the numbers of both amateur photographers and amateur models increase dramatically. All over the world, there were (mostly) young men anxious to take pictures of pretty girls and more than a few pretty young women anxious to call themselves a model. However, no one on either side of the camera in those situations understood the actual value of an image, copyright law, nor the concept of limited exposure.

What happened was that a young photographer would drop 500 or so frames on a shoot, which could take a couple of hours or more. The model, frustrated and only getting a handful of shots she didn’t like, would ask the photographer if she could have a disk with all the unedited shots. Foolishly, the photographer would comply, the model would put really horrible edits of really ridiculous photos on her MySpace page or blog, and war would ensue between model and photographer over who had the right to publish what.

As we go through this week of pictures that were missed, we’re going to see some photos such as this one where one might be tempted to think, “How could you have missed that one?” When we do, we need to remember that not every frame snapped deserves to be published. There are endless reasons for not including a picture, from its inability to meet product or client requirements to changes in desired color or the wrong hair being out of place.

Prior to digital media, second chances like this rarely existed for a photograph. What wasn’t immediately used was typically burned to prevent an unapproved image from making it to publication. Photographers do well to guard their unpublished work so as to protect their reputations.

Yet, every once in a while, we save one like this that is just too good to throw away. The issue that kept it from being considered the first time make it all the more attractive now. I certainly don’t regret saving this one. Enjoy it, there won’t be more.[/one_half_last]

Art / PotD

Aww, Shucks

June 14, 2015

Anything For Art (2011)

“It is unwise to be too sure of one’s own wisdom. It is healthy to be reminded that the strongest might weaken and the wisest might err.” ― Mahatma Gandhi

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]This is strange. We’re beginning a new week and I’m not even home to see it. Great Zeus, I do hope this turns out okay. We’ll take every precaution, of course, to ensure that this #POTD is delivered on time, or at least on the correct day. There are still limits to technology, though, and I’m not entirely sure that when it comes time for this thing to post that I’m going to be where I have a Wi-Fi signal with which to check it. I think I will, if memory serves me correctly, but I’m not 100% sure. We’re camping, you see, somewhere out in the almost-wild-unknown, except for the fact we’re not leaving Indiana.

This is a test, actually. This is only a test. We’ll get around to the real camping later this summer, but we needed to make a bit of a dry run in relatively safe conditions and not too terribly far from home in order to see how the children, to whom I fondly reference repeatedly as bear bait in hopes that the one wild bear seen in Indiana will migrate our direction, will behave given that a year has passed since the last time we dared take them into the woods. We’re not going off the beaten path. There are emergency services nearby should they be needed. This is only a test. But we may not have Wi-Fi.

Actually, as long as our phones work we should be safe, right? After all, this site is mobile friendly, in case you hadn’t noticed, and that friendliness extends to the backend as well. As long as our service provider doesn’t crap out on us and fail to cover an area their coverage map says they have covered, we shouldn’t have any problem making sure this entry posts on time. I’m not even concerned about oversleeping. Why? Bear bait, again. First crack of dawn and they’ll be up, which is why I’m better off writing this well in advance and saving it for Sunday morning. Who knows how little sleep I might get and if you think I’m crazy now you should see me when I’ve not gotten any sleep. I think we’re taking coffee, but who knows if we’ll be able to work the camp stove to heat the water to make the coffee without actually having some coffee first?[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]How does any of this relate to our topic this week of missed photos? Easy: I want to emphasize just how simple it is for us to make a mistake and misplace or lose or overlook a photograph, no matter how attractive the image might be. Depending on the day, we may take anywhere from hundreds to thousands of pictures but from those only select a handful for processing and chances are even fewer for public display. Often, we delete what we don’t use, especially if the photographs are of a sensitive nature from the client’s perspective. But sometimes, the extras just sit there in folders waiting to be recognized. Sometimes they sit there for years. Sometimes they die.

So, we decided to save a handful of those images this week and display them here. None of the pictures you’ll see this week have been processed and shown anywhere else. Each one of these is getting its world premiere right here and you are a witness to that event.

Oh, come on now, you can show a little more excitement than that. After all, the people involved in these pictures have largely forgotten they even exist. Allison here has moved off to Vegas. Hair and makeup artist Christopher Thompson is off chasing ghosts; not metaphorically, mind you, but the real thing that will scare the living daylights right out of you. The least you can do is show some enthusiasm for their hard work. I can promise you won’t come any closer to seeing Allison naked than right here. That’s one lucky corn husk.

I really hope this thing posts correctly. After all this hard work and all the effort that went into making it possible, it really would be a shame if we didn’t get this up in time. Of course, it always makes us feel bad when you miss something. Most the time that’s your fault, though, not ours. You do know you can subscribe and get a reminder in your email, don’t you? That way you wouldn’t miss anything. Assuming we actually get this posted.[/one_half_last]

Art / Photography / PotD

Splitting Exposure

June 13, 2015

From the Window to the Wall (2006)

“The trouble with rules, though, is that you’ll always be tempted to break one- for the right reasons, due to unavoidable circumstances, because it feels as if there’s no other choice. And once you break one, the rest seem like so much broken glass. The damage is already done.” ― Stacey Kade, The Rules

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Here we are at the very end of this rule breaking week and I can tell by the significant drop in the number of visitors we’ve had that you’re really not too terribly interested in the topic. Perhaps you are too busy breaking your own rules in your own way to find our discussion of them to be of any value. Perhaps you’ve observed the breaking of rules for so long that you doubt, probably correctly, that we are covering any new territory. Maybe you just found other things to do. I don’t know. I only care because I really don’t like that feeling that I’m screaming into the wind.

So, I’m breaking one of my own rules today with a full nude. I had told myself, in my annual introspective meeting of my mind, that I would not post any full nudes outside the Art section of the website. The reason for that being my desire to not overtly offend those who might arrive at the website without prior knowledge of who I am or what I shoot. If one is simply looking for a photographer for your child’s one-year-old portrait, one doesn’t necessarily want to be inundated with nudity. I don’t fault someone for not wanting to look at nude photography without warning. Most the nude imagery is kept to the art section where it attracts people who are interested in that material.

Oh, but you, dear voyeur, have shown your true colors. You enjoy the enticing and even implied naughtiness of some pictures. When we posted a picture of a couple simulating sex last week, our hit count went through the digital roof with us doing only minimal marketing. If anyone was offended, they certainly didn’t bother saying so. If anything, the inference is that, given the opportunity, those of more salacious appetites will beat a webbed path to our world-wide door if we simply guide them with the right picture. Such knowledge puts us in a bit of a quandary: do we go for the increased attention or do we try to be good neighbors in our digital neighborhood? [/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Our picture today is actually one of my favorites and I do so miss the model who has moved on to other endeavors. Long exposure shots are always interesting and this one is made more so by the fact that the window through which a street lamp provides illumination contains two different kinds of glass. As a result, the glass in the lower part of the window creates a distortion that dramatically alters the lines. By having the model stand half in light, half in shadow, we open the image to numerous metaphors and interpretations. There is a lot going on here for such a very simple looking photograph.

Are we breaking a photographic rule? Yes, a couple of them actually. We’re not going to tell you what they are, though, since that’s almost assuredly not why you’re really here. If you’re just dying to know, though, you can always drop me a note and I’ll be happy to answer when I return from camping, which is how I am spending my weekend. While we will be taking some pictures this weekend, they are likely to be much more journalistic in nature and almost certainly won’t involve any nudity, or adult situations, or much of anything else that a reasonable person might find objectionable. Note that I said a reasonable person; those who are offended by everything we do are obviously not reasonable.

There’s a lot going on this weekend and I’m sure that no matter where you live there are better things to do than sitting around looking at nine-year-old pictures of naked people on the Internet. If you’ve not found any of those things, you are seriously in need of a life transplant and I cannot assist you with that. You’re on your own. For the rest of you who are stopping by either after or perhaps in between all the festivities, thank you. We take off in a significantly less structured direction starting tomorrow, so please add checking the #POTD to your to-do list. Better yet, just subscribe so that a gentle, loving reminder shows up in your email every morning. [/one_half_last]

PEACE

Advertising / Photography / PotD

Wide Open Spaces

June 12, 2015

Before Leaving (2012)

“The irony of rule followers is they often quote a lot of people that do not follow as many rules as they do.” ― Shannon L. Alder

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Creative people have never liked feeling they were limited in any way. Adventurous people are much the same. Chances are, if you’re a friend of mine, you’re not a fan of limitations, either. Breaking rules? Hell yeah!

There is a song sounding like it’s from the old west that says:

Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above
Don’t fence me in
Let me ride through the wide open country that I love
Don’t fence me in

Let me be by myself in the evenin’ breeze
And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees
Send me off forever but I ask you please
Don’t fence me in

Cole Porter, who wrote the song based on a poem by Robert Fletcher, was nowhere near the “old west,” though. He wrote the song for a movie that was never produced. Go figure. Some ten years later, the song was given to Roy Rogers who made it a hit because, you know, horses and cowboys and those legendary wide open space were a big hit in post-war America. Interestingly enough, Porter never really liked the song all that much.

A lot of people feign amusement with the concept of wide open spaces, including space itself. Yet, when we find it, not too many of us are actually comfortable. Where space is truly plentiful, where there is an absence of things, there is also an absence of people, anyone with whom one might have a decent conversation, and from there matters quickly get boring. And lonely. And suddenly those wide open spaces aren’t looking quite as good as they did when one first arrived.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]When it comes to space, I live in a world of sometimes uncomfortable juxtaposition. A very basic rule of photography is to fill the frame; make the whole picture interesting, give the eye plenty to see, but make sure it’s all cohesive. At the same time, though, advertising needs space, white space, sometimes a great deal of space, for all the copy that goes into an ad. Some are simple, with little more than a product logo and copyright/trademark notices. Others, especially those having anything to do with medicine, can be quite extensive with a requirement for a full list of possible side effects. For those ads, there’s no such thing as too much space.

Today’s picture breaks the fill the frame rule. Maybe it’s still the ad person left in me, but I like the space. I like that there’s room for copy, a lot of copy, but no copy exists. In my mind, the space gives the mind room to create its own story, its own copy, to go along with the picture. We titled the image, “Before Leaving,” because the way in which her body is slightly turned gives one the impression that perhaps she is on her way out the door. Why? That’s for you to decide. Maybe she’s looking for pants. Maybe she’s about to take a shower. Maybe she’s changed her mind and doesn’t like you as much as you thought. Maybe she’s not a fan of the space.

Giving an image space, sometimes a lot of space, leaves a story open to almost endless possibilities. I like that mystery, myself. I’m not looking for a world all neatly bundled together and fitting nicely into a frame. I enjoy concepts that require thinking for myself. For me, space is a friend and I frequently break this rule, especially for portraits. Let this moment be endless, not boxed and framed and predictable.

Just don’t fence me in. Please. Whatever you do. [/one_half_last]

studio nudes

Beautiful Curves

June 11, 2015

Beautiful Curves

Stigma has long been against anyone whose size and shape is alternative to whatever the current style might be. There have been moments in history where being heavy was a sign of wealth and social class. Then, we have contemporary culture where laws have to be passed to prevent fashion labels from using models who are too thin. Neither extreme is healthy, of course, and while we know that in our heads somehow, somewhere, our actions betray what we actually feel.

I am disturbed by the amount of body shaming that has been increasing across the Internet. Thin shaming, fat shaming, bikini shaming, and every permutation of those has taken hold as though there is some level of morality to the size of one’s body. We get upset if someone dares to challenge our size, but we’re quick to disparage anyone whose body is different from our own.

Where we get off thinking such shameful and judgemental behavior is appropriate is a mystery. I’ve not yet met the perfect body and please believe me when I say I’ve seen more than my share of them. What matters is not what someone might consider an imperfection but the unique aspects of each body that makes everyone wonderful in their own right. Despite what all the alleged fitness and gurus might try to sell us, most people are perfectly healthy without body shapes that force them to spend unreasonable time in a gym or maintaining incredibly difficult diets.

So, we are happy today to focus on the artistry of a beautiful body. She’s chosen some modifications that make her happy, and it is her happiness that matters more than anything else. She’s happy with who she is. She is beautiful, she is intelligent, and she was incredibly fun to have in the studio.

I know at least one social media site is making a concerted effort to end body shaming of any kind on its pages. I’m hoping that others will follow. In the end, though, shouldn’t we focus on celebrating beauty rather than looking to tear down anyone? Do we really need someone else reminding us of the need to simply be nice? That was a lesson we were supposed to learn in kindergarten.

Enjoy the beauty. The curves are especially wonderful.

Photography / PotD

Balancing Act

June 11, 2015

The Bird Cage (2012)

“Unfortunately, in many cases, the rule book goes way too far – it tries to tell people how to be instead of explaining what we’re trying to do. We need recipes, not rules.” ― Howard Behar, It’s Not About the Coffee: Leadership Principles from a Life at Starbucks

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I am far from being the most graceful person on the planet. I’ve fallen in front of presidents. I’ve tripped over red carpets. If there’s a cup of coffee near a white table cloth, I’ve spilled it. When I was young, my mother used to say I was like a bull in a china shop, which is why we never visited any china shops or anywhere else that tended to have a lot of glass. For myself and a lot of other people I know, that thing in our inner ear that keeps us level and helps us establish equilibrium doesn’t always work as well as it should. As a result, we go blundering through life, being especially careful when required to handle anything sharp or otherwise potentially dangerous.

What I’ve learned from my somewhat lop-sided life, though, is that being slightly off center, looking at life on somewhat of a tilt, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not every measure we take can or should be balanced because there simply isn’t enough detail or information or content to support the balance that everyone seems to think is necessary. Even a ship can have a bit of a list and still manage to sail its way into port safely. Being unbalanced isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it is quite different.

The rule broken in today’s picture is that of balance, but it’s one where the circumstances create such strong leading lines that we might not notice at first just how uneven the image is. Note that there are two models. Ideally, each would be given an equal amount of space. They needn’t occupy the space in the same manner or even the same general position, but the space should be available to them. In this image, though, the model on the left is limited to the left third of the image. The panel trim on the wall behind her creates a very strong visual barrier that, at least as far as our eyes are concerned, holds her to that side of the space.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]However, one might also notice that the entire frame is a bit askew. The lines are not parallel with the horizon; they’re not even close. Our entire perspective of the scene is thrown off balance by the angle from which the image was taken. The uniqueness of the angle ends up being a strength that allows the unintentional division between the models to exist without making us want to move one of them.

Not that we had much choice. The picture is taken in an elevator built sometime in the 1920s. This is one of those small, residential elevators where one has to manually close the gate, then close the door, before engaging the lift. If the models appear uneven and off balance, it’s because the only way to get the shot was by lying on the floor, having someone out-of-frame hold open the gate, and praying that no one in the building would need the elevator before we got the shots taken.

Metaphors for life, anyone? There are some things that claim to be fair and balanced and intentionally are not; their claim to equality is an attempt to mask just how one-sided their view actually is. Other times, we look at something that appears to be off-center only to discover that our eyes deceive us because of the limitations of our perspective or the specific angle from which we view the situation. What we learn with experience, hopefully, is that balance is precarious and not always something that is even possible. Returning to the ship metaphor, even the largest aircraft carrier moves back and forth along the waves; sometimes to the right, sometimes to the left. That ability shift weight from one side to the other is critical to preventing the vessel from capsizing.

Balance is something our eyes like to see, but what appears to be is not always true.[/one_half_last]

charles i. letbetter

“I do as I please, Monsieur Beauchamp, and believe me, what I do is always well done.” ― Alexandre Dumas

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“And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.” ― Thomas Jefferson

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“No man is great enough or wise enough for any of us to surrender our destiny to. The only way in which anyone can lead us is to restore to us the belief in our own guidance.” ― Henry Miller

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“I will not be “famous,” “great.” I will go on adventuring, changing, opening my mind and my eyes, refusing to be stamped and stereotyped. The thing is to free one’s self: to let it find its dimensions, not be impeded.” ― Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary

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“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.” ― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

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“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” ― John Lubbock, The Use Of Life

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“A girl in a bikini is like having a loaded gun on your coffee table- There’s nothing wrong with them, but it’s hard to stop thinking about.” ― Garrison Keillor

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“If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper…” ― Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

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There is more to sex appeal than just measurements. I don’t need a bedroom to prove my womanliness. I can convey just as much sex appeal, picking apples off a tree or standing in the rain. -Audrey Hepburn

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“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

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“Every trail has its end, and every calamity brings its lesson!” ― James Fenimore Cooper, The Last of the Mohicans

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“The 50-50-90 rule: anytime you have a 50-50 chance of getting something right, there’s a 90% probability you’ll get it wrong.” ― Andy Rooney

We can’t put a stop to all nightmares, but we can reduce them. We have no choice. Now is the time to seriously put a clamp on gun violence. This is one nightmare we must end.

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“As long as the world is turning and spinning, we’re gonna be dizzy and we’re gonna make mistakes.” ― Mel Brooks

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“I am glad that I paid so little attention to good advice; had I abided by it I might have been saved from some of my most valuable mistakes.” ― Edna St. Vincent Millay

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“I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being–forgive me–rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

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“Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one’s mistakes.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

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“It is unwise to be too sure of one’s own wisdom. It is healthy to be reminded that the strongest might weaken and the wisest might err.” ― Mahatma Gandhi

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PEACE

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“The irony of rule followers is they often quote a lot of people that do not follow as many rules as they do.” ― Shannon L. Alder

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“Unfortunately, in many cases, the rule book goes way too far – it tries to tell people how to be instead of explaining what we’re trying to do. We need recipes, not rules.” ― Howard Behar, It’s Not About the Coffee: Leadership Principles from a Life at Starbucks

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