a report from the studio

I spend most of my days in my studio. This is the benefit of remote working. As long as my laptop is open, emails rolling in, numerous Zoom meeting, etc… I am “on the clock.” The advantage of having all of my art supplies readily available is a blessing and a curse. My studio space resembles my brain in many ways. Sometimes I need to turn it off, which in this case means randomly pulling “work in progress” off the walls, so I can stop thinking about THE WORK for at least a little while. The upside of working in this environment is that I can dabbler with an idea at anytime, and garner quick results, via Lightroom and my decent Canon printer. Case in point, I got a bug up my ass yesterday about my ongoing boredom with “straight” photography. At the same time, complete abstraction seems too easy sometimes, or just a plain, self-indulgent mess other times. The problem (not really a problem) with photography in general is that it seems so intrinsically tied to the real world (broad generalization, I know.) Somehow, someway, reality need to peek it’s head into the camera, and onto the subsequent print, or else it drifts into something else, something (primarily) non-photographic. I’ve taken to shooting through prisms lately (as seen last year in full effect in Paris) and I think what I like about the approach (when it works…and often it doesn’t…) is that it breaks just enough from reality, and falls into the territory of “uniqueness.” Reflections and transparency wielded in a barely controllable manner, with a heavy helping of serendipity. It reaps non-repeatable results, for sure. Images that are only by me, for better or for worse. Even dabbling in the studio becomes a journey into unknown territory, and as the above image can attest, sometime the results are magic.

Manifesto

A few months back I wrote up a list of my creative beliefs. These were relevant only to me, and only for that given moment. The more I sat with the list, and let it gestate, the more I liked it as a sort of ad hoc manifesto. You know, all the great movements seem to have a manifesto. Karl Marx had his; Martin Luther nailed his to the church door. The Situationists, the Dadaists… hell, even my therapist helped me focus on a Dharma code…a spiritual, intention focussing manifesto, so to speak.

I have this current manifesto stuck to my studio wall, and also have it as my laptop wallpaper, so I look at it on a regular basis. I incorporated different influences; some from improv, some from my therapy, some from my art studies, and some from my rage and depression (if I’m being 100% transparent, which I am…)
I thought I’d share it here, in hopes that it pushes you, dear reader, to consider your own creative, personal, expressive values.

Some thoughts on each:

“Inactivity is not laziness.” There is great value in doing nothing, and if given the time and space, to do nothing for as long as possible.

“Destruction is creation.” I cribbed this from Picasso, thought I think it is a biblical idiom originally. It really rings true for me, especially in regards to my art practice over the past couple of years.

“Give things away.” Sharing my thoughts, my words, my blog, my podcast, my zines, my photos is an integral part of my interaction with my muse and with my world.

“Expect no reward.” Money, fame, and validation are all fine and good, but I try to create (and to live) with no expectations of profit, monetary or otherwise.

“Expect no audience.” No one gives a shit about you and your artwork. Make it anyway.

“Make boredom valuable.” Much of life is underwhelming, if not outright mind-numbing drudgery. Use this reality as fodder for thinking of things to create.

“Make something every day.” Take a photo, write a note, sing a song, bake a loaf of bread. One creative act a day keeps the wolves at bay.

“Remain curious.” Hard to be bored when there is wonder all around you.

“Say ‘Yes, and…’’ ” As in improv, so in life. Agree and add to other ideas. Saying “no” ends all potential immediately.

“Be the ‘you’ the world needs.” A bit woo woo, a bit snowflakey, but I don’t care. You were born, you’ll die. Be the best version of yourself you can be.

“Live until you die.” Like they say in Shawshank Redemption…. Didn’t realize it was a Stephen King quote.

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feel free to snag this image for yourself…

2021: 22 Pause

A great week of being among people again. Two long days on a film set. A good time to reflect on just being alive and being able to do fulfilling work. My hope for you all, in ways big and small. Peace.

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2021: 17 Wandering in the Wilderness

I’ve never been a reader of The Bible. My knowledge of scripture was filtered through my Catholic upbringing, and I must admit, even that is foggy at best. I could remember the prayers in Sunday morning mass, but I think the ritual alone settled into my brain… I never paid much attention to the words themselves, or what they meant. I guess it would help to buckle down and work my way through the “good book” at some point, if only to brush up on my trivia for my moment in the spotlight on Jeopardy (a guy can dream.) Nevertheless, I know enough about references to wandering in the desert, or the wilderness. A panacea for dealing with the world, not a forced exile, or an “exodus” to go back to the Bible, but a time of reflection in any event. In the days of my youth, I had no comprehension of the depths of nature, the extent of wilderness, no understanding of wide open spaces, where humans are but a blip in an unforgiving landscape. We didn’t have “wilds” in suburban NJ. My time in the American Southwest has giving me much, but probably the greatest gift is a chance to get out in the middle of nowhere, alone with my thoughts (and my cameras.) I’m far from a brave person; I’m generally anxious, and easily skittish. Animals that can hurt me, insects that bite and sting, an unrelenting sun… these are things that can rattle my mind quite easily. And yet, I can still muster the resolve to “get out there” into the desert, alone… and sometimes, unafraid. And the rewards are many. Sunrise in the desert is a glorious thing. Silence at maximum volume. The light, unique. A chill in the air, maybe for the first 30 minutes or so after the sun breaks over the horizon. Wandering through the Arizona desert last weekend, the world let me exhale… and then take a huge breath in again. Time alone is good for my soul, at least in small doses. To readjust, to recalibrate. And while my creativity continues to flow, I will tap into that river of inspiration, and see what it yields. Needless to say, I made many photographs on the trip. Primarily using my Holgawide 120 Pinhole camera to take in the breadth of the open landscape and the majesty of the stoic sentinels of the desert, the Saguaro cactus. Another step on a creative journey. A small step for now, as I do my own wandering through the desert, literally and figuratively. I’ll see where it leads me.

2021: 16 Desert Life

Short and sweet… off the grid for a long delayed trip to Arizona. Photographing the “desert sentinels” also know as Saguaro cactus. Pinholes, and Lomos, and busted lenses, oh my! See you next week.

2020: 44 (Hope and Change)

The weather is changing, autumn is in full effect. The colors in the bosque are at their peak. Golden yellow and reds dominate. Three visits this week yielded much comfort, and many photos. I wandered through the thicket on Thursday and came across this Bible, in the middle of the woods, not near any path. I snapped it with my iPhone (sacrilege, I know) while also doing a few shots with my Holga. I decided to revisit the scene on Friday, with some slide film in my Leica (again… sacrilege) that I intended to cross-process. Leaves had fallen on the open book since the day before. Change. Hope. In 2020 we need both.

I also voted yesterday, to complete the theme for the week.

2020: 38 (Tell me, who are you?)

I was reminded a few times this week of who I am. Self-awareness is a powerful thing. I sometimes need to be reminded of my own value as a human being, as an artist, as a partner, as a friend. I received it in a few surprising ways this week. Subtly and not-so-subtly. Unsolicited kind words from a friend, an invitation from another, and from the man in the mirror himself. We are uniquely ourselves, and sometimes I forget that there is value to be found there. I see things only as I see them. I seek refuge in things that only speak to me. I share when I feel safe to do so. I somehow, silently and sometimes effortlessly, connect with other people. Some people I don’t even know. Sincerity and honesty are in short supply these days, so it is refreshing to experience both. When words are spoken, and when no words are needed.

2020: 19 (Try To Maintain Focus)

The long pause continues. Things can crest and dissipate, as the wind blows, as the sun rises and sets. Feelings sway, reactions sharpen, or get dulled to a nub. Facing the unknown, an unknowable, with plenty of time to reflect. Could have, would have, should have. I will, someday. I might, someday. I definitely will not, ever again.

I continue to work, I continue to sleep, to eat, to drink. To hold, to love. To cry, to get anxious, angry, bored, excited. I have trouble concentrating, especially when I’m reading. I listen: to podcasts, to music, to the birds, to the wind, to the neighborhood dogs that bark too much. Sometimes I have energy to spare, often times I am tired. Sometimes I create, sometime I spiral, aimlessly. Sometimes I shoot, sometimes I imagine pictures in my head. Sometimes I look, and most of the time, I see.

How are you holding up?

2019: 45 (Breathing Lessons)

To frequent readers of this blog, it will come as no surprise that I have a deep fondness for the Rio Grande bosque that cuts through the middle of Albuquerque; a ribbon of life in the middle of the dry desert. It seems whenever I need space to clear my head, a wander through the bosque usually does the trick. In recent years, I’ve focused my cameras on that environment, and it has provided an endless amount of inspiration and creative fulfillment. So much so that I am undertaking a new long-term project, returning to the bosque once a month to document the changes of the seasons, across the span of a year.

What the visits to the bosque also do for me is to allow me to let go, and deeply exhale. Not only in the literal sense, but also in a spiritual way. Recently I’ve been working hard to reconnect with myself; with my body and with my mind. Realizing that life depends on breathing, I’ve been using the focus on my breath to be the foundation for a renewed sense of mindfulness. Frequent yoga has been helping as well. These things are my attempt to stay grounded. I am grateful for each breath I can take, as well as for every visit I can make to the bosque.

Making Lists

I find that a key element to self-motivation is making lists. If I put something in writing, and keep it visible, I am more prone to get things done. By the looks of it, I'm setting myself up for a couple of busy months. I guess its like they say "Get busy living, or get busy dying." I'm looking forward to showing the fruits of my labor here as the summer progresses. Stay tuned.