BirchLane.net

August 2005

Wednesday 31

"The highest moments of life are mystical, which is to say that the soul is united in the world of forms with the divine, “the One.” Aesthetic experience comes closest to mystical experience, for one loses oneself while contemplating the aesthetic object..."
~ Plotinus

Edit ~*

" There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in the proportions."
~ Francis Bacon

Tuesday 30

This Instead:

I have been here before,
     But when or how I cannot tell:
I know the grass beyond the door,
     The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.

You have been mine before,
     How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that swallow's soar
     Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall - I knew it all of yore.

Has this been thus before?
     And shall not thus time's eddying flight
Still with our lives our love restore
     In death's despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?

"Sudden Light." Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Monday 29

So much to write about.  I loved photographing the wedding. A visitor to Studio 19 compared my work to Walker Evans. An old photo of my mom and dad.

My new ad for a local bridal directory.

Sunday 28

Practice Portraits. Ibby and Abby.

Saturday 27

The First Wedding

More photos here:

Friday 26

...

Thursday 25

Temporary Card.

Wednesday 24 (words to follow; lots to say; adding to Williamsburg)

 

 

Tuesday 23

Work. (editing)  I stayed late today at work. Mike and Kim were scheduled to

Monday 22 (editing) When I think of Williamsburg, I think of

Williamsburg, Massachusetts.

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday 21

Weddings and Dummies. (not what you think; words to follow; cooking dinner)

 

 

Saturday 20

Today's Scans and Other News.

 

 

Friday 19.

Exhausted. No idea of time today. Tired. Back to work on Saturday. First wedding shoot one week away. Good news from the IRS; more about this later. Abby catnaps:

Thursday 18

1976 or 1977. Who I am.

Gonzalo Rufatt

I want to read this book (I can't believe I have not read it.):

Wednesday 17

Tuesday 16

Chores.

Because of this I prayed, and understanding was given me; I called upon it, and the spirit of wisdom came to me. ~Solomon

Except for my dive into the chilly water at Wahconah Falls a few weeks ago, I have not been swimming this summer. Someday, I want to live on a lake.

Another older 35 negative.

Monday 15

Early Morning:

"The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart" How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, and frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say, God, we say, Rome and Michiko, we write, and the words get it all wrong. We say bread and it means according to which nation. French has no word for home, and we have no word for strict pleasure. A people in northern India is dying out because their ancient tongue has no words for endearment. I dream of lost vocabularies that might express some of what we no longer can. Maybe the Etruscan texts would finally explain why the couples on their tombs are smiling. And maybe not. When the thousands of mysterious Sumerian tablets were translated, they seemed to be business records. But what if they are poems or psalms? My joy is the same as twelve Ethiopian goats standing silent in the morning light. O Lord, thou art slabs of salt and ingots of copper, as grand as ripe barley lithe under the wind's labor. Her breasts are six white oxen loaded with bolts of long-fibered Egyptian cotton. My love is a hundred pitchers of honey. Shiploads of thuya are what my body wants to say to your body. Giraffes are this desire in the dark. Perhaps the spiral Minoan script is not laguage but a map. What we feel most has no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses, and birds. ~Jack Gilbert (and here, and here)

Sunday 14

Gray. All day the color out my windows was gray. Last night's color gave no indication of today's gray which late in the day gave birth to severe thunderstorms. Saturday night:

I edited photos today from the two recent portrait sittings, read many pages of the Dare Wright bio, "The Secret Life of The Lonely Doll," and started to prepare for my first wedding shoot, which is now a short two weeks away. Yesterday, a friend wrote to me:

your first wedding.  that must bring up a lot of stuff for you.

It hasn't--yet. I did, however, photograph a newly engaged couple at the studio last week and that brought up some rather sad, and maybe angry, thoughts. Regardless, weddings have the potential to keep me afloat, if not help me to make a significant amount of money. My niece sent me a link to this wedding photographer: Studio JK. Their rates range from $1,750--$9,800. A friend from work has agreed to assist me and if I need extra equipment I can borrow it work.

Another friend writes:

you as a wedding photographer: well.. that couple was the smartest couple EVER...for weddings are made of moments and you are "captain moment."

And a few days ago, a friend here in Easthampton asked me to shoot her daughter's upcoming wedding! So, shortly, I will have some new images to use in advertising, mainly the local bridal/wedding guides.

I read the following self-promotion lines of an acclaimed Australian Wedding Photographer in Rangefinder Magazine:

Brides trust him Grooms have fun with him Men respect him Kids just love him But dogs hate him

I might adapt this, and add to it, for my advertising.

"I asked the earth, I asked the sea and the deeps, among the living animals, the things that creep. I asked the winds that blow, I asked the heavens, the sun, the moon, the stars, and to all things that stand at the doors of my flesh....My question was the gaze I turned to them. Their answer was their beauty." -St. Augustine

Saturday 13

I don't know.

Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. -Rainer Maria Rilke

A friend writing about yesterday's self-portrait:

Okay, maybe it's just me, but I'm getting this -- All Night Hallucinagenic Drug-Crazed Frenzy involving Ripping All of Your Clothes Off and Running, Screaming Around Studio 19 trying to Rout Out the Demons and Minions of Hell that you Just Know Are There Because you've Heard Mutterings of Their Conversations, Their Plots and Their Evil Schemes Against You and All of Those You Love All Along, You Just didn't Realize it Until the Drugs Quieted Down that Part of you Mind the Demons Were Counting On to Keep You from Hearing And Now, Now that You're Free from the Filters, Free to See the World Around You as it REALLY IS, Now you Have a Choice to Make. Now You Must to Choose the Path You Will Follow for the Rest of Your Days. Will You Feel the Challenge to Be More Than Any One Mortal can Take On? Is It Safer to Simply Go Back to Sleep and Pretend that the Voices were just Figments of Your Imagination? Not really there at all? Just the buzzing of the air conditioner and electric fans? OR, Is it Time To Assume the Mantle Of Responsiblity, Wear That Armor of God and Accept the Gift of Sight Into the Neatherworlds and Knowledge of Their Plans as a Sacred Mission, Your Own Holy Crusade? Fear Mixing with Courage, Doubt Swirling around Faith. And then, Tears in Your Eyes, You Look Upward to Heaven for an Answer. And There, in the Corner of the Ceiling, is a Small, Simple Light. A Light. The Light of Heaven. The Light of God. The Light of Love That Casts Out All Darkness Before It. A Surge of Energy Rushes Up Your Spine and You Know the Answer. You are Reborn, A Modern-Day Van Hellsing, Protecting the World and All of Those You Love!!! -- kinda vibe from this one. Of course, it could just be another pretty picture.

Another writes:

"In the alternation of night and day, and what God has created in the heavens and the earth---surely there are signs for a god-fearing people." ---The Koran, 10:6

And another:

*stunned* Such a treat these last couple of years, to see your work almost daily...but man, you really outdid yourself this time. I could look at this all day.

And yet another:

It's a shame that I never seem to comment in here as I do always enjoy your pictures dotting along my friends page. The best thing about them is that they always seem to surprise me even more than the last. That being said, I am totally entranced by the colour and composition of this one even though I really have come to be fascinated by your black and white pieces. It seems that simplicity never looked so elegant except in your view.....

Last night: Danielle celebrated her 21st birthday for a few hours with her friends at Studio 19. I experimented with a wide-angle lens from work and was not at all happy with the results.

Proud father and daughter.

Friday 12

Dano's Birthday.

Thursday 11

Ramblings. Read online:

NPR had an interview......with a 100-year old woman who when asked about regrets, had a quote that went something like this, "If I'd known I was going to live to be 100, I would have taken up the violin at 60. I'd have been playing for 40 years by now."

Wednesday 10

Today a friend writes:

O Serene light
O Holy of Glory
Bless me to kindle tonight your Heart in vespers of my soul
And my way will be hold good
O Serene Light!
even to the farthest point
may Your light come
and from there may my song fly to highest spheres
where the Father, and The Son and the Holy Spirit
placed Their hands as One blessing me in my darkness.

Exhausted still. Looking forward to Friday; upload CafePress Studio 19 Collection T-shirt site. And get outside; hike.

Ibby:

Tuesday 09

Tired. I worked 12 hours today and I feel drained: physically, mentally and spiritually. Below: Abby and Ibby at the studio.

 

Rosanne Olson

Monday 08

Dragnet.

"What Is a Cop?" (From "The Interrogation") Written by: Preston Wood   Jack delivers the following speech about the trials and tribulations of being a police officer to a rookie undercover officer suspected of robbing a liquor store. It's our most-requested speech, and many people frame the words. (Please note that this transcript was taken from the slightly edited Nick at Nite version of this episode. We plan to add a few missing lines soon.) "It's awkward having a policeman around the house. Friends drop in, a man with a badge answers the door, the temperature drops 20 degrees. You throw a party and that badge gets in the way. All of a sudden there isn't a straight man in the crowd. Everybody's a comedian. "Don't drink too much," somebody says, "or the man with a badge'll run you in." Or "How's it going, Dick Tracy? How many jaywalkers did you pinch today?" And then there's always the one who wants to know how many apples you stole. All at once you lost your first name. You're a cop, a flatfoot, a bull, a dick, John Law. You're the fuzz, the heat; you're poison, you're trouble, you're bad news. They call you everything, but never a policeman. It's not much of a life, unless you don't mind missing a Dodger game because the hotshot phone rings. Unless you LIKE working Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays, at a job that doesn't pay overtime. Oh, the pay's adequate-- if you count pennies you can put your kid through college, but you better plan on seeing Europe on your television set. And then there's your first night on the beat. When you try to arrest a drunken prostitute in a Main St. bar and she rips your new uniform to shreds. You'll buy another one-- out of your own pocket. And you're going to rub elbows with the elite-- pimps, addicts, thieves, bums, winos, girls who can't keep an address and men who don't care. Liars, cheats, con men-- the class of Skid Row. And the heartbreak-- underfed kids, beaten kids, molested kids, lost kids, crying kids, homeless kids, hit-and-run kids, broken-arm kids, broken-leg kids, broken-head kids, sick kids, dying kids, dead kids. The old people nobody wants-- the reliefers, the pensioners, the ones who walk the street cold, and those who tried to keep warm and died in a $3 room with an unventilated gas heater. You'll walk your beat and try to pick up the pieces. Do you have real adventure in your soul? You better have, because you're gonna do time in a prowl car. Oh, it's going to be a thrill a minute when you get an unknown trouble call and hit a backyard at 2 in the morning, never knowing who you'll meet-- a kid with a knife, a pill-head with a gun, or two ex-cons with nothing to lose. And you're going to have plenty of time to think. You'll draw duty in a lonely car, with nobody to talk to but your radio. Four years in uniform and you'll have the ability, the experience and maybe the desire to be a detective. If you like to fly by the seat of your pants, this is where you belong. For every crime that's committed, you've got 3 million suspects to choose from. And most of the time, you'll have few facts and a lot of hunches. You'll run down leads that dead-end on you. You'll work all-night stakeouts that could last a week. You'll do leg work until you're sure you've talked to everybody in the state of California. People who saw it happen - but really didn't. People who insist they did it - but really didn't. People who remember - those who try to forget. Those who tell the truth - those who lie. You'll run the files until your eyes ache. And paperwork? Oh, you'll fill out a report when you're right, you'll fill out a report when you're wrong, you'll fill one out when you're not sure, you'll fill one out listing your leads, you'll fill one out when you have no leads, you'll fill out a report on the reports you've made! You'll write enough words in your lifetime to stock a library. You'll learn to live with doubt, anxiety, frustration. Court decisions that tend to hinder rather than help you. Dorado, Morse, Escobedo, Cahan. You'll learn to live with the District Attorney, testifying in court, defense attorneys, prosecuting attorneys, judges, juries, witnesses. And sometimes you're not going to be happy with the outcome. But there's also this: there are over 5,000 men in this city, who know that being a policeman is an endless, glamourless, thankless job that's gotta be done. I know it, too, and I'm damn glad to be one of them."

Christian Coigny

Sunday 07

South Hadley.

Saturday 06

Finding Images. Thirty years ago; somewhere, I think, in Santa Cruz, California. What I find so interesting as I review my files of negatives is how my vision has remained so constant through the years: 1) I have always helped people feel comfortable and thus have gotten some fine portraits; 2) Nature has always been a dominant and driving force in my life and; 3) The out-of-the-ordinary has always attracted me.

Friday 05

Names. Students who visit the studio are asked to sign their name on the wall.

More images from yesterday at work:

Thursday 04

Short Stories. Beth. I don't remember her last name.

Santa Cruz, California.

Park in winter.

Wednesday 03

Little Blessings. Today in the photography studio I showed a young woman an image of her I had just taken seconds before; she exclaimed, "Oh my God, I love it. Thank You so much. I love you." And then she hugged me.

As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives. ~Henry David Thoreau

"Here is the world (what's left of it) In brilliant motion, The oil slick at the curb, Danced into a thousand Splintered steps. The bag ladies toss off their Garments to reveal wings. "this Dance you Do," drawls the Cop, "what do you call it?" We call it scalding the air-- We call it dying with your shoes on." ~Cornelius Eady (an excerpt)

Tuesday 02

"I think there are things that nobody would see unless I photographed them." ~Diane Arbus

Monday 01

Studio 19 Collection and The Month of Reaping. I had hoped to go for a hike yesterday with my friend and neighbor, Kristan, the teacher/photographer/art historian, but she had other plans for the day. It was just as well as I spent most of the day researching the sales of art T-shirts. Some internet friends who have online stores have offered to help promote the Studio19 Collection.

CafePress

(Note to self: I have The New York Times article and The Wall Street Journal article; find the NYTimes Magazine story.)

Late in the afternoon I went to a birthday party for one of the photographers from the studio; I felt completely out of place--everyone was under the age of 22. I gave Ian a present and left after 30 minutes. Ibby:

Roman Loranc

Bill Zorn

In other news, in Finnish, August is called elokuu, meaning "month of reaping". (I am shooting my first wedding this month and I have two portrait sittings, plus the Studio 19 Collection site will be launched.)

August is the eighth month of the year in the Gregorian Calendar and one of seven Gregorian months with the length of 31 days.

August begins (astrologically) with the sun in the sign of Leo and ends in the sign of Virgo. Astronomically speaking, the sun begins in the constellation of Cancer and ends in the constellation of Leo.

August was named in honor of Augustus Caesar. The month reputedly has 31 days because Augustus wanted as many days as Julius Caesar's July. Augustus placed the month where it is because that's when Cleopatra died. Before Augustus renamed August, it was called Sextilis in Latin, since it was the sixth month in the Roman calendar which started in March.

In the pagan wheel of the year August begins at or near Lughnasadh in the northern hemisphere and Imbolc in the southern hemisphere.

In Ireland, (in the Irish language) August is known as Lúnasa, a modern rendition of Lughnasadh, named after the god Lugh and August 1, (Lá Lúnasa) in the Irish Calendar is still regarded as the first day of Autumn. The first Monday in August is one of the public holidays in the Republic of Ireland.

More here.

King Kong