speaking of photography…

Posted on by
4

I have a complicated history with Instagram. I downloaded the app and joined 11 years ago today, on 21 July, 2013. I did it under a pseudonym–Knuckles Dobrovic–because, like every good photographer I knew, I assumed Instagram was trash and I didn’t want to be associated with it. As I wrote at the time,

We sneered at Instagram for being a cheap, easy, lazy way to turn crappy photos into images that look artsy. Not ‘artful’ or ‘artistic’ but artsy. We sneered at it because the learning curve for using Instagram is — well, it’s hardly a curve at all. It’s almost a straight line. You shoot a photo with your cell phone, you flip through a couple dozen preset filters until you find one you like, tap to apply it, and hey bingo, you have yourself an artsy photo of your drunken friends at a tacky Chinese restaurant.

I hadn’t actually looked at Instagram; I was just operating on the assumption it was trash. I had to join it in order to confirm my assumption. And hey, I was right. It was, in fact, trash. It still is trash, mostly. But eleven years ago to my surprise, I also found a healthy dose of really fine photography. All sorts of photography, from street work to portraiture to landscape to editorial work to fashion photography. There was (and still is) solid work to be found on Instagram.

I used the Knuckles Dobrovic account mainly to explore IG. But I also felt an obligation to participate, so I used it as a platform for a hastily cobbled together project. After a few months, I decided to more fully embrace IG; I created a second account under my own name. Originally, the account was devoted to square format monochrome photos. Now, of course, it’s my main IG account for all types of photography.

I continued to use the Knuckles account as a platform for random photo projects (for anybody interested, I’ll include a list and a description of those projects in an addendum at the end of this post). The last Knuckles project ended in April of 2023. I haven’t posted anything under the Knuckles account since then.

Until today. My IG anniversary. I’m starting my 8th Knuckles project. Appropriately, it’s going to be pretty similar to how I began my personal IG account. I’ve always had four simple rules for a Knuckles Dobrovic project.

  1. It’s got to be simple (which means I won’t have to do a lot of planning or a lot of post-processing).
  2. It’s got to be organic to my life (which means it’s something I can photograph during the course of an ordinary day — whatever that is).
  3. It’s got to have at least one intellectual component (which is more accurately described as a pretentious bullshit element).
  4. It’s got to be able to keep my interest over time.

So here we go. Simple: high contrast monochrome, which is made easy with my new Ricoh GR3X camera. Organic to my life: my normal flâneur walk-about style plus whatever I happen to see that catches my interest. Pretentious Bullshit Element: my ongoing fascination with the Japanese Provoke-style photography, which is NOT how I normally see the world. Keeping my interest: Well, yeah. I’ve played around with this style of photography before and I see no reason why I’ll ever stop. At some point, I may feel the need to start a 9th Knuckles project, but until then…well.

ADDENDUM: Previous Knuckles Dobrovic projects.

Things on a Table — I put a thing on a table and photographed it.

My Feet on the Earth — I took walks, stopping periodically to photograph my feet. I selected two or three of the images during a walk and created multiple exposure images.

One Hundred Appropriated Google Street Views — This was sort of an homage to Hiroshige’s ‘One Hundred Famous View of Edo’. While playing the online game GeoGuessr (which involves finding a random location based on Google Street View), I made screen captures of interesting vistas. I converted those screen grabs into square black & white images.

Slightly Dislocated — During the enforced isolation of the pandemic, I shot square format photos during my solo walks or masked errands. I diddled with the color a wee bit, digitally sliced the image in thirds, then re-arranged the pieces.

Are Bure Bampot — I’d been playing Geoguessr again, and during a break I read something about Daido Moriyama, the godfather of a photographic style called are bure bokeh, which roughly translates as “rough, coarse/crude, out of focus.” That same afternoon, on Twitter, a Scots acquaintance referred to somebody as ‘a total bampot,’ which I was told means “an idiot, a foolish person, a nutcase”. For reasons I can’t explain, the phrase are bure bampot came to me, and I decided to follow through on it. As before, I made Google Street View screen captures of scenes and locations in Scotland. This time I modified them using the are bure bokeh style.

Geoguesser Bus Stops — A bus is the most democratic form of public transport. They’re most commonly used by the poor and working classes, but the bus stops for everybody. A bus network is fundamentally simple: a series of designated routes with consistent designated arrival/departure times and stable designated boarding locations with predetermined fees. It’s a predictable, reliable, efficient dynamical transportation system in which bus stops act as fixed point attractors. Bus stops are ubiquitous; they’re everywhere because a bus network is socially elastic–the design can be stretched to fit almost any community anywhere in the world. Bus stops are both local and global.

the flâneur school of photography

Posted on by
9

There are people–lots of people–who like to name things. I know people who’ve given names to their car, who’ve named their computer, who’ve named their favorite camera. I’m not one of those people. I don’t anthropomorphize gear. A camera is just a tool. You choose the tool best suited for the job you’ve got planned.

I say that, but lawdy, I’m starting to develop a relationship with my new camera. My Ricoh GR3X and me, we’re becoming buddies.

A bald guy walks down the street.

Why? Because this camera seems to have been designed almost specifically for the way I shoot photographs. I’m not a street photographer, although I enjoy shooting street. I’m not a landscape photographer, or a fine arts photographer, or a portrait photographer; I don’t really belong to any of the more common photographic traditions. I belong to what I like to call the flâneur school of photography.

A tree in the library courtyard.

If you’re not familiar with the term, a flâneur is somebody who roams around idly observing the world while being somewhat emotionally detached from it. Somebody who’s not necessarily involved in what’s taking place around them, but is keenly aware of it. One writer described a flâneur as “an amateur detective and investigator of the city.” The term is usually applied to urban life, but it’s a philosophical approach to the world that can take place anywhere. It’s a strange nonjudgmental balance between being analytical and emotional.

(By the way, the term flâneur is French but it’s derived from the Old Norse verb flana, which meant “to wander with no purpose.” And if you’re wondering how a French word is derived from an Old Norse word, you need to read more about Vikings.)

I don’t think those guys were intentionally walking in step, but…

That’s how I shoot photographs. Hell, that’s largely how I’ve lived my life. I’m a flâneur both by nature and by training. Almost every career I’ve had involved the same basic process: observe, analyze, filter the analysis through emotion (or the emotion through analysis), then act. It’s a skill set that helped me as a medic in the military, as a counselor in the Psych/Security unit of a prison for women, certainly as a private investigator specializing in criminal defense, and even (to a lesser extent) as a teacher.

In terms of photography, being a flâneur just means noodling around, paying sharp attention to detail, and seeing stuff in terms of composition. What’s cool is that when it all comes together–the scene, the light, the moment–there’s an immediate emotion, a serotonin hit that’s generated whether you have a camera or not.

Yeah, road closed.

My Ricoh GR3X is ideally suited to the flâneur school of photography, partly because it’s so compact and easy to carry everywhere. I’d heard you could carry it in a regular pants pocket, but I assumed that was mostly bullshit. It’s not. I’ve done it; I’ve walked around–I’ve ridden my bike–with this unit IN MY GODDAMN POCKET. It also turns on almost immediately, which is incredibly handy. Best of all (I’m not sure this is actually the ‘best of all’ because there are so many ‘best’ things about this camera), you can shoot with one hand. Even in the manual mode, you can control all the settings you need with one hand.

Ginger cat.

Seriously, you can pull the camera out of your pocket, turn it on, compose the shot, adjust all the elements of exposure with one hand, take the shot, turn the camera off, and put it back in your pocket…and you can do all that in just a moment. Which is pretty much what I did with the photo above. As I was walking down the street I noticed the ginger cat. I stepped off to one side so as not to spook the cat, which is when I noticed the woman’s legs. Her legs were in shadow, so I had to quickly adjust the exposure to make sure they’d show up in the photo. Then a step back to include the tree and the window in the frame, and there it was. Maybe ten seconds from seeing the cat to taking the shot. One hand.

Say hello to my little friend

It’s not a perfect camera; I’d love for it to be weather-sealed and dust-proofed, but I’m not sure it’s possible to do that without making it bigger. It’s more important (to me, at any rate) to have a camera I can tote in my pocket than one I can shoot in the rain. There have been a couple of instances where some fill flash would have been handy; the GR3 series doesn’t have a native flash. But, again, that’s small beans.

Big S.

The fact is, this camera has already allowed me to get some shots I couldn’t have done with any of my other cameras. And it’s allowed me to get some shots quicker and more easily than with my other cameras. I could have made the shot above with any of my cameras, but it would have taken longer and I’d have had to use both hands. It’s not a great photo (I shot it largely as a reminder to go back when this bar was open), but I was able to get the depth of field I wanted with a minimum of fuss. That absence of fuss is like heroin; it’s fucking addictive.

So yeah, it looks like me and the GR3X are becoming good buddies. I look forward to spending time with it.

if it had been anybody other than trump

Posted on by
6

Yes, it’s an impressive photograph. You know the one I’m talking about. Trump, bloody, angry, fist raised. I’m not going to post it because I’m already sick of it. But it’ll probably win a lot of photojournalist awards, and rightly so. A lot of folks (and by ‘folks’ I mean ‘political pundits’) believe that photo is going to help Trump in the coming election. They think it’ll carry Trump along on a groundswell of sympathy.

A lot of folks are wrong.

Had it been anybody other than Trump, they’d probably be right. But we’re talking about Comrade Donald J. Trump here. Trump is different. There’s not a lot of sympathy for Trump. Perhaps the most remarkable (and, in a very real way, incredibly sad) aspect of the assassination attempt against Trump is this: so many people are disappointed that it failed.

Yes, that’s a horrible thing to say. But there it is. I’ve heard it and I suspect you’ve heard it as well. It’s usually expressed in a soft voice–maybe even a whisper–and it’s often said with more than a little shame. But it’s being said all the same. Regret that Trump didn’t catch one of those rounds fired.

The people saying this aren’t raging ideologues, they’re not political junkies, they’re not rabid progressives or conspiracy nuts. They’re regular people. Moms to their kids, people in the produce aisle at the market, couples eating smashburgers at a diner. They’re saying stuff like, “You know, I don’t really want anybody to get shot, I’m opposed to any sort of violence, but….” And they let that ‘but’ hang there, and the person they’re talking to frowns and nods. Or maybe they turn it into a joke. “Nobody’s been that disappointed by a couple of inches since Stormy Daniels.” And we cringe and groan, but we’re still nodding.

Most people who feel this way are properly reluctant to say it out loud. It’s a horrible thing to say. It’s a horrible thing to feel. I mean, we’re decent people–or we try to be. But that thought and feeling is out there, and it’s widespread. And it’s Trump-specific.

If it had been anybody other than Trump…

hey MAGA, remember this?

Posted on by
6

We knew there was going to be violence, didn’t we. I mean, the threat of violence has been a constant theme in the MAGAverse. Just a few days ago, Kevin Roberts, the president of the Heritage Foundation, announced, “[W]e are in the process of the second American Revolution, which will remain bloodless if the left allows it to be.” Hell, Trump his ownself, during the George Floyd protests, asked his Sec. of Defense, “Can’t you just shoot them? Just shoot them in the legs or something?”

Of course there was going to be violence. We just didn’t expect the violence would be directed at Trump. It’s always been MAGA that’s been doing the threatening. They’re the ones with all the guns. Democrats and the left have all been threatening to…you know, vote. We’ve been threatening to…you know, hold criminal investigations and give Trump and his MAGA fuckwits a chance to defend themselves in court. We’ve been threatening them with the Constitution of the United States. Or the tattered shreds of the Constitution after SCOTUS ripped it up.

And MAGA? This is their approach:

A pickup tailgate with the image of a kidnapped President Biden.

We post images of Trump in an orange jumpsuit on social media. They celebrate the imagined kidnapping of Joe Biden. And let’s not forget, just four years ago 13 men were arrested by the FBI and charged in a plot to kidnap Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer and ‘try’ her for the crime of…you know, implementing Covid public health restrictions.

But the MAGAverse is trying, once again, to turn reality on its head. Here’s one of the headlines in the morning’s Washington Post.

Trump allies immediately blame Biden, Democrats for their rhetoric

There are LOTS of examples of GOP politicians and supporters blaming Democrats. I’ll just mention one. Senator Tim Scott, once a hopeful VP candidate, said “This was an assassination attempt aided and abetted by the radical Left and corporate media incessantly calling Trump a threat to democracy, fascists, or worse.” Scott ignores the fact that Trump actually IS a threat to democracy.

At this point, we know very little about what happened yesterday. We know the shooter was a 20-year-old registered Republican armed with an AR-15 style rifle. That’s about it; that’s about all we actually know at the moment. We’ll know more by the end of the day. We’ll also be inundated by a cascade of conspiracy theories, misinformation, disinformation, and outright bullshit. It’ll be hard to separate what we know from the bullshit. Hell, a lot of folks won’t even try to separate it. MAGA won’t.

But we can count on this: Democrats and folks on the left will be held to a higher standard of behavior than Republicans and other MAGA fuckwits.

in which I look at an old photo (part 2)

Posted on by
2

I used to pay a lot of attention to photography. Not just the practice of photography (you know, shooting photos and all that), but photography as a craft and art form. Then, for a lot of reasons, I stopped doing that. For a few years, I just wasn’t interested in photography. I shot occasional photos with my cellphone and that was enough. But a few months ago I picked up one of my old cameras and…hey, guess what. My interest in photography was resurrected.

I started thinking about photography again. I started reading articles about photography again, and studying other photographers again. In doing so, I came across an article that suggested looking at your old photos as if they were made by a different person. I’ve never really bothered to look at my old photos. I saw them when I took them and again when I processed them; why look again? But I thought, “Well, what the hell, I might as well try that.” And I did. I picked an old photo and studied it (and wrote about it here). Now I’m doing it again.

Here’s a thing I learned the last time I did this: looking at old photos–and I mean actively looking at them, not just thumbing through them quickly–is weird. It’s sort of dissociative. At least it is for me. It turns out there’s two or three things going on at the same time. You 1) look at the photo as a photo, an object in its own right. But you also 2) consider what was happening in the world around you when you shot that photo. And 3) you remember why you shot the photo.

6:59 PM, Sunday, August 7, 2011

This photo was shot on a Sunday evening, at 6:59 PM on the 7th of August, 2011. It was shot at a hospice facility for veterans, where my brother Jesse Eugene was dying from pancreatic cancer. I visited him almost daily during his stay. On that particular day, I’d wheeled his bony ass out to this small enclosed porch so he could look at some trees and feel some sunshine. He stayed in his wheelchair, I sat on the bench. We didn’t talk much. I think the trees and sunshine meant more to me than to him. He may have been humoring me when I suggested visiting the porch. We were only out there a short time before he said he was tired and wanted to return to his room.

I remember wanting to shoot his photo while we were out there; the light was amazing. But he looked awful–the cancer had pretty much ravaged him–and I knew he wouldn’t want his photo taken like that. After I got him back in his bed and comfortable, I scurried back to the porch and took this photo, catching the last little bits of that delicious sunlight.

He died a few days later. This may have been the last time he left his hospice room. I think it was. It’s possible somebody else might have wheeled him out to that porch, but I don’t think so. At the time, it never occurred to me that he might never get to sit in the sunlight again.

Here’s a weird thing. I knew he was dying, but I can’t remember ever thinking something like, “This will be the last time he ever eats black-eyed peas” or “He’ll never get to hear this song again.” I take that back; I vividly recall bringing his dog to visit, knowing it would be the last time he got to hold and hug his little buddy. That was pretty crushing. But that was unusual; mostly I always thought there’ll be at least one more day. But, of course, eventually there wasn’t.

Here’s another weird thing–an uncomfortable weird thing. There’s a selfish part of me that wants this to have been taken on the last day Jesse Eugene sat in sunshine. Why? Because it would give the photo more emotional weight. That complicates my thoughts about this photograph. I have to wonder if my memory is reliable. It’s entirely possible I’m remembering this as the last time my brother sat in sunlight because I want to remember it that way.

Without all that context, I think it’s a pretty good photo. The light is sweet, that yellow bench is an absolute treat, the hint of flowers in the left of the frame is a nice touch. The last rays of sunlight give the photo a sentimental quality that, I hope, isn’t entirely sappy.

I’m still uncomfortable with this idea of examining an old photo of mine, but I’m willing to consider there may be some value in it. I’ll probably do it again in a month or so.

a pagan half hour

Posted on by
2

We’re living through the early stages of a climate change nightmare right now. Persistent heat domes with dangerously high temperatures, torrential rainstorms, exceptionally powerful hurricanes forming earlier than usual, drought-based wildfires whipped into firestorms by freakishly high winds, stronger than usual tornadoes that stay on the ground longer, thousand-year floods every couple of years leading to dams collapsing.

Because of the exceptional rainstorms, the Des Moines River is currently 20-22 feet higher than normal–not quite at actual flood levels (which, I believe, is 24 feet). A visit to the dam which creates Saylorville Lake yesterday was compelling. The 6000 acre lake has risen almost two feet in the last 24 hours; the spillway was releasing over 16,000 cubic feet of water every second — that’s 190% of its normal release. It was loud and furious and utterly fascinating to see.

View of the spillway from the parking area

People showed up to see it. Young people, old people, families with kids and dogs, couples, people on their own — a constant low-volume parade of people just to take a look at the chaos of the spillway. Just a few dozen at a time. Most of them would slowly approach the fence guarding the spillway, gawk a bit, gradually move closer to the release point at the bottom of the dam. The turbulent water was mostly unpredictable, and would splash people unexpectedly. Most laughed and ran away from the fence. A few got irrationally angry, as though the water had played some sort of trick on them.

The dam and the spillway

That large solid hill behind the spillway? That’s actually the dam holding back the Saylorville Lake. On other side, the water level is probably 30-35 feet higher. There’s a second, emergency spillway (not pictured in any of these photos) in the dam. The water level in the lake is expected to peak in a couple of days, and (it’s hoped) will remain a couple of feet below the emergency spillway.

Visitors on the other side of the spillway

“If you fell in there, you’d die.” I can’t tell you how many people I heard say that. They’d stand at the fence, look at the raging water cascading out of the spillway, shake their heads, and say it in an awestruck voice. They often repeated themselves. “Wouldn’t have a prayer, if you fell in there. Nothing you could do. Nothing anybody could do. Find your body somewhere downstream.”

Everybody was a photographer at the spillway

Normally, the only people you’d see at the spillway were fishing. It’s a popular fishing spot; apparently it’s one of the few places you can catch eight to ten different fish species along a single short stretch of the river. Under normal conditions, that also makes it a popular spot for birds — pelicans, cormorants, gulls and terns, eagles. I didn’t see any birds even approach the spillway yesterday. Birds have too much sense for that.

A road runs along the top of the dam.

There was something almost pagan about the experience. Not pagan in a religious sense (since ‘paganism’ is just a term early Christians applied to any pre-Christian belief system), but in the sense of common people making a sort of pilgrimage to witness, awestruck, the beauty and savagery of nature, to experience their own smallness in the world. I doubt many of the people at the spillway thought of it in those terms, but it was there. The awareness of a natural power beyond our control and our understanding.

We were only there for a half hour or so. It seemed like longer, but time gets weird in the presence of the old gods.

Editorial Note: I was informed about this fishing video that shows the spillway under ordinary conditions. You don’t have to watch the entire thing; the opening seconds will give you a sense of what it’s normally like at the spillway.

yes, but…

Posted on by
6

Yes, Joe Biden is old and didn’t do well in a debate. Yes, he’s lost a step (or two) and he needs his sleep. Yes, his cooperation in the genocide in Gaza is monstrous. He wasn’t my first choice in 2020–he wasn’t even in the top five on my list of candidates–but he’s been a much better and more effective president than I hoped he’d be. He’s still far from an ideal candidate.

Has there been too much emphasis on his age? Maybe. Has there been too much fuss about his debate performance? I think so, yes. Yes, but…what about the other guy?

…but this fucking guy?

Let’s not forget what Donald Trump has accomplished. In no particular order, he…

  • tried to block Muslims from entering the country
  • instituted a border policy that separated children from their families, then couldn’t find many of those children because of bureaucratic incompetence
  • evicted reporters who asked tough questions from the White House press briefings
  • hired his daughter and son-in-law, neither of whom were qualified, to work in the White House and ordered they be given security clearances they didn’t merit.
  • fired the FBI director for refusing to halt the investigation of his ties to Russia, then bragged about firing the FBI director to the Russian foreign minister and ambassador
  • unwittingly revealed highly sensitive intelligence to those same Russian diplomats IN THE OVAL OFFICE for fuck’s sake
  • couldn’t be bothered to take part in daily intelligence briefings and wouldn’t read most Intel reports unless they included photos
  • refused to release his tax returns
  • withdrew the US from the Paris accords to combat climate change
  • withdrew the US from the Joint Comprehensive Iranian nuclear deal, designed to check Iran’s fuel enrichment and uranium conversion 
  • withdrew the US from the Trans Pacific Partnership between 12 Pacific Rim economies designed to reduce their dependence on Chinese trade 
  • suggested the US should try to buy Greenland
  • reduced environmental regulations protecting the public from mercury and asbestos, and stopping coal companies from dumping toxic waste into rivers
  • opened millions of acres of federal lands to development and drilling
  • diverted US$3.8 billion of military funding to build approximately 177 miles of fencing/wall
  • seriously mismanaged the Covid pandemic, causing the deaths of hundreds of thousands
  • promoted the use of an antiparasitic medicine used to treat roundworm infections as a prophylactic against the coronavirus
  • privately told journalist Bob Woodward that Covid was deadly while deliberately downplaying the risks and dangers in public
  • eliminated the White House office of pandemic response
  • tear-gassed hundreds of peacefully gathered protesters on Lafayette Square in order to hold a photo op of him holding a Bible in front of a church
  • refused to condemn Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman of Saudi Arabia after MBS ordered the execution and dismemberment of Jamal Khashoggi, a US-based journalist for the Washington Post
  • later bragged about protecting MBS and Saudi royalty after the Khashoggi scandal
  • played a shit ton of golf almost exclusively at his own resorts; spent about two days of every week at one of his properties during his tenure as POTUS
  • tried to convince the G7 to hold a meeting at one of his golf resorts
  • tried to get the PGA to hold the British Open at his golf course
  • charged the Secret Service exorbitant rates for protective agents to stay at his golf resorts
  • repeatedly lied about winning golf tournaments
  • abandoned Kurdish allies after their help in fighting ISIS
  • vetoed a defense funding bill because it included renaming military bases that were named after Confederate soldiers
  • withdrew US troops from Syria, allowing Russian troops to occupy former US bases, which prompted Sec. of Defense James Mattis to resign in protest
  • refused to commit to supporting and defending NATO allies
  • called soldiers who died in combat losers and suckers, and refused to attend a D-Day event honoring US war dead because it was raining
  • banned transgender people from serving in the military
  • claimed the US military had no ammunition under Obama
  • praised military dictators and authoritarian regimes while criticizing traditional US allies
  • did nothing after learning Russia paid members of the Taliban a bounty for killing US Marines
  • publicly took Vladimir Putin’s word on Russian election interference over the analysis of the US intelligence community
  • held a private meeting with Putin with only a translator present, ordered translator to destroy the notes, failed to disclose the meeting, which became public through Russian news media
  • passed massive tax cuts for the wealthiest
  • claimed he should have been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize
  • claimed he was offered Time’s Man of the Year but refused it
  • claimed he made it possible for people to say “Merry Christmas”
  • claimed Andrew Jackson could’ve stopped the Civil War (AJ died before the Civil War began)
  • thought there was an African nation called Nambia
  • maybe shit his pants a few times, I don’t know, I’m just saying is all
  • stole SCOTUS seats with the help of Mitch McConnell
  • called the news media the “enemy of the people”
  • was found liable, along with his two adult sons, for fraud and fined nearly half a billion dollars
  • found liable for sexual assault and defamation, fined US$ five million.
  • found liable for re-defamation and fined another $83 million
  • found liable in Trump University fraud and forced to pay $25 million in restitution to students
  • was required to shut down Trump Foundation after it was found to have committed fraud and misappropriated funds
  • was indicted for a whole lot of felonies relating to the insurrection and fraud and obstruction of justice and illegally hanging on to all manner of confidential and secret documents
  • was convicted of 34 felony counts by State of New York and is awaiting sentencing
  • gave Rush Fucking Limbaugh the Presidential medal of Freedom
  • gave Ed Meese, Reagan’s AG who was involved in the illegal Iran-Contra affair and resigned in disgrace after a corruption scandal, the Medal of Freedom
  • had a 92% staff turnover rate in the most influential positions within the executive office
  • thought the Virgin islands had a President
  • used a Sharpie to ‘correct’ a map in an absurd effort to to justify his claim that Alabama was under a hurricane threat
  • suggested using nuclear weapons to somehow stop a hurricane
  • threatened to withhold federal aid from states and cities with Democratic leaders who criticized him or failed to thank him
  • put Louis DeJoy in charge of the Postal Service even though DeJoy had clear conflicts of interest by being CEO of a company that did business with USPS
  • tried to pressure the president of Ukraine to manufacture dirt on Joe Biden
  • got impeached
  • staged an insurrection
  • got impeached again
  • refused to concede the 2020 election
  • refused to even attend Biden’s inauguration
  • ordered member of his administration NOT to comply with Congressional subpoenas
  • stopped holding press briefings for months at a time
  • suggested that wind turbines cause cancer and drive whales ‘batty’
  • stared directly into an eclipse like a goddamned idiot
  • and did a whole bunch of other awful shit that I’ve forgotten about
  • promises to do sparkly new awful shit in the future, especially now that he’d be free from the fear of criminal prosecution

Almost every single day of the Trump administration was a tightrope walk, waiting to see what new scandal, what new form of corruption, what inevitable act of incompetence, what unanticipated moment of galactic ignorance, what novel example of naked greed would lead the day’s news cycle. It was fucking exhausting. He’s ready and eager to do it again.

But, yeah, Biden is old and needs a nap. His knees are brittle and he walks stiffly. The White House probably spends a fortune on Ensure.

almost, almost…

Posted on by
2

Yesterday, to distract myself from the SCOTUS-induced alternating rage/depression cycle, I sorted through some of the photos I shot at Saturday’s Farmer’s Market. And there was one photograph that…well, wait. I need to back up a bit. Two things.

First thing, a reminder: I recently bought a new camera, a Ricoh GR3x. It’s unlike any camera I’ve ever owned. To begin with, there’s no viewfinder; you compose the photo using the rear LCD screen. I was actually hesitant to buy the camera because of the lack of a viewfinder (yes, you can buy an attachment viewfinder, but that’s more coin and fuck that.) Composing with an LCD screen seems wrong; that’s what you do with your fucking phone. To my film-trained mind, it’s NOT how you use a camera. And yet, with the GR3x it turns out to be surprisingly handy and intuitive. Old dog, new tricks.

Second thing: Alex Webb. He’s a street photographer who’s famous for extremely colorful and complex photos. When I say ‘complex’ I mean many/most of his photos are composed in a way that organically divides and separates the elements within the frame into what could be different, distinct photos. I’m not going to include an example image here because when I publish this and post the link on various social media, there’s a good chance it’ll feature Webb’s photo instead of the photo I’m writing about; I don’t want people to think I’m taking credit for Webb’s work. But seriously, if you’re not familiar with this guy, do a quick image search. He’s amazing.

So, back to the opening paragraph, me sorting through Saturday’s photographs. At the Farmer’s Market I noticed a woman comforting her dog (which looked to be some sort of spaniel/poodle mixed breed) behind a vendor’s booth. The dog had apparently been overexcited by the crowd. There was something very sweet about their interaction and I wanted to photograph it. Having recently re-examined Alex Webb’s work, I thought it would be cool to include the vendor in the shot. But there was a guy who kept moving in front of me (I think he thought I was trying to cut in front of him to get the vendor’s attention). I’d shift to one side hoping to get a shot, and the guy kept shifting with me. With each step, I was losing sight of the woman and her dog. Just as I was about to give up, I saw a mother & child walking by behind the vendor.

I took the photo.

Not a great photo, but the potential is there.

Okay, it’s not a great photo. But I like it because it’s as close as I’ve ever come to shooting something almost almost in Webb’s style. Not in terms of color (my photo is rather drab in terms of color), but because the frame can be visually divided into three distinct image areas. The woman and her dog, the vendor, and the mother and child. Granted, the original idea of the woman and her dog largely gets lost, and the image is badly off balance…but still, there it is.

The thing is, if I’d been using a camera with a viewfinder, I wouldn’t have seen the mother and child before they entered the frame (and yes yes, if you’re shooting with a rangefinder camera you can keep your left eye open, which allows you to see outside the camera frame, but that only works if you’re right-eye dominant…and I’m not; I compose with my left eye). If I’d been using one of my usual cameras, I’d have missed the shot.

The GR3x allowed me to compose this photograph thoughtfully and almost instantly. It’s not a great photo by any means, but it demonstrates (to me, at least) this particular camera’s potential to catch unique, unexpected moments. I understand why this camera is beloved among many street photographers.

I don’t do much street photography. I’m not particularly good at it, but I enjoy it. But I also believe in practicing in public, in showing work that doesn’t quite meet my standards for what the work could be. So this is why I’ve inflicted this photo and this blog post on you. Thanks for being patient.