Gris, pero hermoso.

While in Guatemala we were based in Antigua. But, a couple different days we took shuttles to towns three hours away. While driving into the mountains, it was like we were driving through a cloud. I really wanted to get out and photograph everything. But, since we didn't get to stop, I shot what I saw through the window of the van. I may make a print of it for my grandma. :)

Moving forward

Sometimes we hit the wall. It sucks, to put it plainly. But, if we're lucky, and we happen to look around, there might be a pathway right next to it that moves us forward. Keep walking.

"Count your blessings. Once you realize how valuable you are and how much you have going for you, the smiles will return, the sun will break out, the music will play, and you will finally be able to move forward the life that God intended for you with grace, strength, courage, and confidence." — Og Mandino

La parte de Guatemala uno

I spent a week in Guatemala visiting my friend Jessie who will soon be returning to Florida. She has lived there since July learning Spanish, learning life and learning about herself. I met up with her and our other friend and former co-worker, Tristan, to see where she has been living all this time. Guatemala is a beautiful country. Although, I feel like I haven't had any time to process my trip, let alone look at any pictures from it. Life has been going pretty much non-stop since I got back and isn't showing any signs of slowing down. As I get time to look through pictures, I'll post stuff I like.

I have to say, I took pictures like a tourist, and I really think the pictures I love the most are of Jessie and Tristan. Their blogs can be seen here and here.

The view from our hostel.

Man on the street.

First time I realized her new accessory.

The hostel had the best light.

That which sets us free...

My friends Dianna and Zhi got married last weekend. I was not the official photographer, but you know I couldn't resist. They were beautiful and so happy. Congratulations to you both.








Touched by an Angel

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

— Maya Angelou

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead

I love and hate this picture for the same reason. It is awkward. It makes ME feel trapped in a box, because HE looks like he's trapped in a box. Which reminded of a movie dialogue that I remember from a LONG time ago.

ROSENCRANTZ: Do you ever think of yourself as actually dead,
lying in a box with a lid on it?

GUlL: No.

ROSENCRANTZ: Nor do I, really... It's silly to be depressed by it. I mean one
thinks of it like being alive in a box, one keeps forgetting to
take into account the fact that one is dead... which should
make a difference... shouldn't it? I mean, you'd never know
you were in a box, would you? It would be just like being
asleep in a box. Not that I'd like to sleep in a box, mind you,
not without any air - you'd wake up dead, for a start and then
where would you be? Apart from inside a box. That's the bit I
don't like, frankly. That's why I don't think of it.

Because you'd be helpless, wouldn't you? Stuffed in a box
like that, I mean you'd be in there for ever. Even taking
into account the fact that you're dead, really... ask
yourself, if! asked you straight off - I'm going to stuff you
in this box now, would you rather be alive or dead?
Naturally, you'd prefer to be alive. Life in a box is better
than no life at all. I expect. You'd have a chance at least.
You could he there thinking - well, at least I'm not dead!
In a minute someone's going to bang on the lid and tell me
to come out. (Banging on the floor with his fists.) 'Hey you,
whatsyernaine! Come out of there!'

Things you might see

Sometimes you can find bizarre images in a firefighters training tower.

Vets With Tattoos Cont.

This is Jolene Wieber, a 21-year-old Military Police Officer in the Army. She spent 15 months in Iraq. On June 21, 2007 her best friend Karen Clifton was killed in action. Unfortunately, that was the very day they were supposed to come home, but their deployment was extended. Jolene got a tattoo today in honor of her friend. A cross with their unit symbol, Karen's name, birthdate and death date.

Karen Clifton b. 5-10-1985 d. 6-21-2007

Solitude

I was looking through some pretty meaningless pictures from about a month ago searching for something else, when I ran across this photo. I forgot I even took it. But, something about it today I like. I don't know if I'm seduced by the color or what. I think I like it because of the look on her face. It's like she is having a moment to herself during her break at the Flea Market, allowing her mind drift off for just a second. A moment of solitude amidst an area of chaos.

What won't be remembered...

I have a friend, he photographs his family and his friends in a way that leaves me speechless. So speechless, in fact, I'm going to write an entire blog about it.

I was looking through his new blog (the link can be found under Paul Michael Myers to the left of this entry) and I perused the link called Sarah and Scott. Sarah is my best friend and I had the privilege of being in her wedding. Paul's photos are from that day. As I looked through the album, I was amazed at how he captured things that won't necessarily be held in the collective memory of the event or people participating.

Most watching will remember that the bride was stunning and our dresses were pink. But there are in-between moments, gestures, glances, touches, subtle details that most will not recall.

He reminds me why I love our job. We are here show people things they would miss otherwise. I know that. And I knew that before I looked at his blog. But in the day to day B.S. that is dealt with at each of our given jobs, it can be forgotten. He showed me what I wasn't remembering.

I have been searching lately. Searching for some sort of inspiration. I ultimately know that this has to come from within me. But thank you, Paul, for drumming some of it up. Thank you to all of my photographer friends who are fighting the good fight. Who still believe in the meaning behind what we do, and the art that comes with it.

Vets With Tattoos

I'm working on a portrait project about veterans with military tattoos. We want to know the stories behind them.

Jim Brennan, a 74-year-old Korean War veteran, got his first tattoo of a black panther on the inside of his left forearm before he entered the Navy and "before those boys in California were known for their name." But the rest, the ones shown in this picture, were done after. He refuses to talk about the war itself. Making explicitly clear he would not talk about combat. But, he would talk about his tattoos, where he got them and why.

At this point most of the tattoos just look a little like blobs, but there are three of note. The one on his right forearm is an eagle and anchor, a symbol of the Navy. The one on his right chest is a rose, for his mother whose name is ... Rose. And the one on the left chest a memorial tattoo for his good friend who died in a car accident on his way back to the ship after being on leave. Vignettes of several veterans is scheduled to run on Veteran's Day, November 11. More to come.

DamaDe'

She moves effortlessly, her hips swaying back and forth, her arms swinging around her body.
Still, it goes almost unnoticed.
Seduced by its brilliance, all eyes follow the trails of fire that surround her.
The light dances off her body, highlights the edges and gives only a glimpse of her face every other moment.
A thick and guttural whooshing sound is heard as fire cuts through the resistant air, adding to the natural rhythm that the cicadas provide in the woods beyond her yard.
She accompanies this with a whirring sound of her own as she exhales.
DamaDé slows the pace of the Poi, a Maori word meaning ball, or a light ball on a string. In this case, it is a chain with a ball on the end ignited with camping fluid.
A fire dancer for the past five years, she is practicing for a gig in Miami on a dirt patch at her North Naples home.
“My first love is dance,” says DameDé, 35. “I add fire to it to accentuate the dance.”
For her, the movement of her body through space is the most important part, even if the fire is the main attraction.
“It just looks like a bunch of circles and the flow of the fire of is so beautiful,” she says.
She puts the Poi away and grabs another instrument to practice. This time it is a set of “spider fans,” two fans that have five separate flames on the end of each.
She arches backward, moving the fans slowly with her arms stretched up and out in a graceful motion.
“It’s a little like flying,” she says.
DamaDé’s friend and costumer, Lana Foster, 28, has seen her fire dance more times than she can count.
“It creates an exotic and enchanting atmosphere because everybody loves to watch fire ,” Foster says. “It’s mesmerizing. I never get bored of it.”
Making fire dancing look easy doesn’t come without a cost.
“It’s extremely exhilarating and sensual, but it’s very hot and it’s a lot of physical exertion.” DamaDé says. “I can be sore for four days after one gig.”
But, the price her body pays is worth it. That time she hit her eye with the end of a lit Poi was worth it. And the burns and bruises she gets from bouncing the Poi off her legs are worth it.
“I love when I’m giving, giving, giving as much as I can and the folks watching are inspired. When I can obviously see in their faces that they are inspired by the fire.”
“Fire makes people move,” she says.
It also draws people her. The best part of the entire experience, she says, is when people talk with her after a performance. She is able to share with them her Yoga philosophy, which she says goes hand-in-hand with her dancing.
If people listen, she gives pep talks after her shows.
“Where there is lightness there can be no darkness,” she says. “Let it inspire you from the inside out. Go share your light with the world because you have it inside you.”

Iraq Vet: Bobby Joseph

This story just published in our paper today. It is about a local Marine who was hit by an I.E.D. in Iraq in November. Unfortunately, I met him for the first time in June, after the his recovery from the immediate injury. It is very difficult to photograph the past, but I tried my best to show his life now. I really enjoyed doing this story. Bobby was a very open about his life and allowed me in. I am very grateful for that. As always, I see glaring things missing from the complete package of photos. But, it is part of the process of TRYING to tell the ever-illusive COMPLETE photo story. I will continue to try.

These aren't all of the photos, but if you want to see more and read the story, please go to:

http://www.naplesnews.com/news/2007/sep/15/war_home/

Lighting it Up

Friday night I photographed the St. John Neumann High School football game. The school just recently installed stadium lights. It was the first time in the school's history that they played at night on their own field.

Naples summer

I bitch a lot about the heat in the summer. But, nothing beats the summer sky in Naples. It's gorgeous. And today I was lucky enough to see two skies that made me feel very small.... in a good way. (Ideally, some wonderful moment would be happening in the foreground of these pictures, but eh.)

Two wheeling

I ran across Tyler, 11, right, and Dylan, 13, last night. The light was just getting good and they were cruising around in a couple of wheel chairs that they didn't need, trying to see who could stay on two wheels the longest. The wheel chairs are from the assisted living facility where Tyler's grandma works. They didn't have many cares. Just talked about skateboarding, BMXing, and who's had the most girlfriends. Tyler's in the lead with eight.