Thursday, April 11, 2024
A few of my favorite things
Sunday, April 7, 2024
Saturday, April 6, 2024
Self Portrait in Back Yard
Saturday, March 30, 2024
Tuesday, February 20, 2024
Missed a Day , But it's Alright!
Sunday, February 18, 2024
February 18, 2024
The Objects of Clutter OR Catch and Release
The blog may be the perfect repository of things recycled, given away or perhaps placed in a box marked "Things to be dealt with after I die"
For the next while I am going to scan or photograph the objects that have been left in drawers, on shelves, piles on desks or in boxes
Each object has a memory attached to it.
Ed Paschke Pin 2000 I am not quite sure when I received this pin, but it has knocked around in my studio for years. I have stuck it into wallboard and homosot. I may have even worn it at some unremembered time. It was the first object I grabbed when thinking about restarting the blog. I knew Ed and was starting to develop a working relationship with him before he passed on November 2004.A Test Blocks |
Three block letter A - test laser cut blocks for the artist Kay Rosen. We were working with the idea to print embossed letters onto white paper, but actually the blocks would have been debossed. The project ended up being a screen print. And possibly one of the last collaborative projects for me. I realized at the end of the project that I wanted to focus on my own work.
Unprocessed film and box mismatch |
Tools and metal bits to be sorted and put away later |
In an attempt to be a good steward, I save bits of wire, washers, screws and whatnot. Thinking that someday I'll use those bits for someqworht while project or repair. And sometimes thast happens but mostley the bits collect dust and are buried beneath newer additons.
The wrench, and allen wrenches will find their way back to the prober storage place but not today.
Sunday, March 5, 2023
No Tresspassing
Saturday March 4th 2023
Composition #8 |
Just about every day, I drive by this decrepit, falling-down roadside produce stand, and I think about taking photographs of the stand someday, documenting the passage of time and neglect. I am fascinated by the way things are cast aside after they are deemed unusable, broken, and forgotten. And they lay, sometimes for centuries, decomposing, deteriorating, only to become part of the landscape.
Composition #9 |
I was returning to my car after about 15 or 20 minutes of exploring the site and making images when a dirty black pickup truck rolled close to where I was standing. I was just about to get back into my car, and he said, "Hey, This is private property and there is no trespassing." I walk to his truck thinking I'll explain what I was doing and no big deal. Or so I thought. The youngish man rolled down his window and asked what I was doing on his property, and I mentioned I was taking photographs, and that I was just leaving. "Oh No," he spit out of his mouth and went on about me casing his property, coming back to steal his stuff, and said the police would sort it out.
Composition #3 |
Composition #4 |
As I returned to my car to put the camera away, he spun his truck around so that I couldn't make an escape. Don't engage, I thought. I wandered around the parking lot looking over the building and ate a really crisp, sweet juicy apple, slightly sweet with a hint of tartness. I thought about throwing the apple core into the brush but thought better of the impulse.
Composition #5 |
About fifteen minutes later a police SUV slowly approached us and an African American Officer got out of his car and asked me what I was doing there. So I told him about being an artist and taking photographs for projects. I assured him and the property owner that the images were not created for any nefarious purpose. I asked the officer if they wanted to see the images, he wasn't interested, but the truck driver wanted me to delete everything, so I showed him one image and said "This one is of rust, do you want me to delete that?" He soon lost interest and started talking about his A2 rights, which I didn't know. I asked the police officer: a reference to 2nd Amendment gun rights he said. The truck driver then mentioned coyote traps, coming out of his house armed, then hissed some terms about pointing a weapon at me. Then, he threw in a reference about Texas. At that point, I'm thinking this guy is angry and afraid. I'm gonna stand by the officer. The officer breaks into the guy's lopsided diatribe and asks if he is satisfied, which he is. The police officer and I shake hands and I get back in my vehicle and head home.