Vintage

Say hello to the all new Shur Shot camera from Agfa Ansco. Now you can be sure every photo captures your life perfectly . . . just like the pros. I'm sure something like that was said back in 1935 when this camera made it's debut to the public. Technology was marching on and everything was new and exciting.  This camera was sitting in my basement collecting dust just as it was in the antique store where I found it several years ago. I can't help but see the similarity between this instrument of documentation and today's events. When this camera came out it was the peak of image capture technology. It was also in the midst of the Great Depression. Much like today, we are in a very depressed economy, and yet we're surrounded by the best and the newest in technological advancement. This camera captured an era of uncertainty and although I'll never know what photos it actually captured, the things it actually saw, the evidence of it's many years are scratched and worn throughout it's entire body. 

Personally, I'm glad to see 2010 go. It's been a rough year and I'm heading into what looks like another tough, tough year. But, nothing's for sure, especially when it seems it is. And regardless of the things I've seen and don't share, my face is showing the wear and tear every morning when I look in the mirror. A happy new year only means new lines on my visage, and more white hairs on my balding head. This camera's been forgotten . . . frankly because it's crap! It takes terrible pictures from today's standards and even against the standards of its day. But everyone looked forward to its arrival. Do I look forward to 2011's arrival. Not really. Just another day. No big plans. No big celebration. Regardless of the shortcomings of this camera, it had to be made. If it hadn't, Kodak wouldn't have had the competition necessary to push it's R&D. Nikon and that other brand wouldn't have been started. Everyone who wanted to take a photo would still be lugging around those view camera monstrosities. In short, we wouldn't have the awesome consumer digital cameras we use today. Yesterday's awesome is today's garbage, but that garbage got us to today's awesome . . . which will be tomorrow's garbage. So on and so forth. Time marches on. It seems trite and useless to celebrate one day out of the year as the beginning when time is so endlessly cyclical. I like to look at it like this . . . Every day is a new year. Every day can be said "one year ago, today." This means that every day is a clean slate and a new opportunity to make yesterday's regrets the learning experience we need to gain tomorrows garbage. As long as we see our garbage as a stepping stone and move on, we can always look back on it as vintage.  

Thanks Agfa Ansco for your vintage I was able to shoot with my awesome.

The Newest X-Man . . . maybe.

My brother, Matt, came down to see me for Christmas and I had no idea what gift to get him. So I made him an X-Man.

Bringer of Snow

So, Merry Christmas first of all!

Apparently, we haven't had an accumulation of snow on Christmas in Georgia since the late 1800's. We definitely had an accumulation today and as I type this, it continues to accumulate. The only new variable in existence to my knowledge is that my brother, Matt, is visiting from Indiana. He said he wanted to visit the South for Christmas because it wouldn't be snowing. Obviously, that's asking for it. So, if you were caught out in the "blizzard" driving home from grandma's house, or get stuck in your house tomorrow because the roads are iced over, or are absolutely loving this White Christmas, let him know about it.
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Cuke

I like cucumbers. Not because they taste good in salad or on Greek sandwiches. They are most often and erroneously considered ground plants. Not so! Given the proper materials they will climb very quickly with a little training, make great shade plants and actually grow very robust fruit hanging from a vine. It's so much easier to pick at eye level than at ground level. It's all about course correction.

Tom

Tom was an avid photographer who worked with my wife. Through his contacts, he was kind enough to offer us a stay at Lake Chatuge in North Georgia a few months back. From what I understand, he was fond of sharing things he enjoyed with people. While we were there, we did some hiking and came up on this creek in the forest. It was quiet and peaceful and full of natural, clean energy; something I rather needed at the time and probably need more often now than I realize. This was the shot I captured. I didn't know him enough to say we were good friends, but his kindness was more than beneficial and I greatly appreciated the time he helped us spend away. Several weeks passed after that trip and I heard that Tom had taken his own life.  I don't know what great struggles plagued him, but whatever they were, they are gone now. I like to imagine he's now sitting next to a quiet stream much like this one, enjoying the natural revitalizing energy of God's creation. From one photographer to another, this shot is for you, Tom. I wish you peace.

Vacant

I had the opportunity to shoot a century old house this past spring while volunteering with Elm Street Cultural Arts Village of Woodstock, GA (www.elmstreetarts.org). The plan is to renovate this historic property into an art studio/gallery/art school. We were doing a walkthrough with the mayor and some of his associates to get our eyes on the derelict and plan what was going to be needed to fix the place up. It needs a lot of work. It strikes me every time I see a place like this, the amount of energy and history that has worked its magic, charm and, ultimately, it's destructive force on the place. Seems to me that no matter what happens in a space, positive or negative, time is a savage when it comes to the forgotten. All that are left in that old farmhouse now are ghosts from the old city. Maybe we can bring it back to life and fill it with some warm and creative energy. Regardless, the forgotten never grow on their own. Their stories are always sad and their doors may as well lead to nowhere. They either find someone who will remember them, or, like this old pile of wood, go back to the dust they came from. You don't have to be dead to die. Next time you're out, take a look at the empty forgotten spaces you come across. There's always a story as to how they came to be forgotten.

Summer Predator

So, it's been awhile. But I'm back. I'm starting a little early for 2011, so in the days preceding that turn of the calendar, I will post some reminiscent pieces I captured this past year that I think are noteworthy. A little background on this one. In my little organic garden, I decided to grow okra this past year. It did very well, thanks to a green thumb, some naturally enriched soil, sun, rain, and this wicked yet shy predator. Midway through the growing season, I noticed that my okra was being ravaged by a hoard of ants. Not that the ants were doing any harm themselves, but they were doing a little farming themselves and their cash crop was aphid. Thousands of the little ant slaves roamed freely across the open plains of my large okra leaves. Soon my okra began to show devastating wear and tear and I feared the worst for my new crop (I don't even like okra, really, but the flowers are beautiful!) I tried several organic pesticides but nothing worked. I was at a loss. After a few weeks I noticed my plants were perking up so I investigated. Much to my surprise, I couldn't find one aphid and zero ants. I mean nil! As I pondered this miracle of possible mass migration, I spied her. There she was! Long, slender, beautiful and terrifying. Like an ancient and terrible dinosaur tearing through vast fields of baby sheep, this seductive predator decimated the aphid and ant population. Why she chose my garden, I'll never really know, but I had TONS of okra. I enjoyed her presence for an all too brief amount of time, and then as quickly and quietly as she came, she was gone. However, I did get the opportunity to photograph her. Her smile being so enigmatic, she felt her best asset was her pair of long legs, with which she lured many a hungry agrarian to their death. So that's what I shot. Maybe I'll see her again next year. Or maybe I'll be visited by another of her species. At any rate, her presence was appreciated and her services were free. So I can hardly complain.

Dreyke Logan Smith

I'm in the habit of getting up early in the morning to stretch and go through various routines in an attempt to battle age. You can't start too soon. It amazes me that each morning, everything is new. Despite the raging weathering of the previous day's activities on all things organic and non, everything is brand new the following morning. . . every time. My life has been about raging. It's been about weathering. It's been about incredibly life altering relationships that promise to be far more than they ultimately are. It's heart-rendingly disappointing and, quite frankly, aging. It all changed last Monday, June 21st. This little creature came into my life and now everything is very new. I have a completely new thought system and execution to things. I had no idea what was about to happen to me. What was once gray is now white. Where there was fear, there is now courage.  

By design, two months have passed since my last post. A significant thing has happened. I am no longer looking back. I am only looking forward. Where once only death stood, now there is only life.

Everything is new.

No Looking Back . . .

Don't look back. Work straight ahead. You know what you need to do. So set your face on it and get to it. Don't look back. Stop checking to make sure you're doing it right. You'll get better as you go. Stop checking to make sure you're straight. You never will be. Just work. Work towards the goal. Get to it. Move straight ahead with abandon. Stop caring whether or not you mess up. Because you're going to. When you do, DON'T LOOK BACK AND GRIEVE THE MESS UP! Just move on, move ahead. Don't focus on what's behind. Just get to work on what's in front. If you hired someone to cut your grass and they always looked backward, worried their rows weren't "straight and narrow," they'd be forever frustrated at their crooked job and missed spots, their moral would sink, and they would never know the joy of GETTING OVER IT and finishing the job. Frankly, you'd fire their tail and hire someone else. SO! Get to work and stop worrying about the mistakes you've made and the crap that's happened in your life. Focus on your job. . . on who you were made to be . . . AND GET TO IT!

God talks to me when I'm outside. I mowed the grass today. . . and I messed up - alot. But I got it done. I finished. And that's what counts.

So . . . how 'bout them apples.

Netherportal

Sometimes I see things that others do not see . . .  like shadows and living emotion in the landscape. Sometimes they are frightening. Other times, they are just there. . . like a story that needs to be told but no one living remembers. I'm not sure what it is that I'm seeing, imagination, latent emotional energy, spiritual communication. I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy. Sometimes it's so powerful, I can remember it long enough to capture the scene with my camera and piece it together with other images-just to get a feel for what it is. I'm introducing some of these images now. Like I said, maybe I'm crazy . . . think what you will. I just have to share it. They're not perfect, but you'll get the idea.

Buzzers

DangerSmith Skill#37

DangerSmith works hard to stay in top condition . . . his life is so dangerous, after all.  At any moment, he may break out into one his death defying, super-human power skills. AND he finds it very difficult to keep his shirt on . . . but that's another story altogether.

Danger Smith

Wow! I've been away a long time. Been busy. . . and maybe a little lost as we artists sometimes get. But, I'M BACK! 

So . . . I found this old 8" size action figure/doll the other day and thought I'd go in another direction with my photography. Just for fun. Introducing DangerSmith. You never know where he'll turn up!

Cheshire Wisdom

"Say what you mean and mean what you say. Only a few find the way. Some don't recognize it when they do - some... don't ever want to."

Black Widows . . .

 

. . . want only one thing.

But . . . Where's The Reading Material?

I'm going to start placing more photography up here as my business grows. This is a bathroom I shot last week. Seriously, and this is just me, I would have a hard time using it. It was so clean and expensive . . . among other things.

Hmm. . . to each their own.

Never Forget

There is nothing more dangerous than forgetting. As history has taught us, forgetting means repeating. Some things we want to forget. Some thing we can't forget. Then there are those things we remember forever because we have to. We have to remember them, because they made us who we are - they've literally spun together the fabric of our lives. Whether we regret them or regret what we've done or regret not doing it better and harder; whether we hated them or loved them; whether they did us great evil or great good–forgetting them would be like forgetting ourselves. They are us. The experiences are us. We must keep them in our minds, always in front, never forgetting and let it be fuel for our future actions. That is remembrance, memorial. It is Myosotis. . . both an enemy and a friend.

And yet, God chooses to forget . . . as far as the East is from the West. He forgets. Our every action is failure . . . and He chooses to forget.

Lover . . .

 

True love endures the worst kinds of pain . . . even betrayal. Appropriately symboled, everyone alive understands an arrow through their heart. No matter how "cutsie" our society tries to make love look, the reality is, it's not for the fainthearted. It cannot justly be measured by infatuation but by passion–synonymous with pain. It requires great courage and endurance. It gives without  regard to return on investment. But when unrequited, it can turn lives to stone. It requires everything and yet is shown in simple acts. And when shown in monumental ways, it's as if it cost nothing. Nothing else has been labeled "strong as death" by the Great Book and it is fertilizer out of which the Deep Magic grows. It is the author of life, and yet has been known to kill its owner. Nothing has been more eagerly and zealously sought by those who do not own it. Because true love . . . . . . . . . .true love never dies.

God is Love. 

Blessed Are The Poor In Anything . . .

God Alone

There is no one like God. There is no one who completely understands Him. He is completely misunderstood by most. If and when we realize that fact, we will begin to understand why He made us and why He would love us so much . . . so much that he would kill Himself to keep us.  There is nothing more meaningful to God than relationship. . . being together. God being alone is what set history in motion, gave Him perspective when He said "It is not good for man to be alone," and caused Him to cry out on the cross "My God! My God! Why have you left me alone, rejected!"

I often feel this way myself. . . alone and rejected. No one will ever understand me. Most will misunderstand. There is no one like me. . . But there is One who does understand. He understands loneliness deeper than I ever will.

Empathy is a great healer.

Day Whatever (Losing Count): True Love

 

I'm a Christian. A really messy one. I didn't earn it. In fact, before my feet hit the floor in the morning, I deserve one thing and that's to fall straight into Hell. There is no penance available to pay for the crimes I've committed. God had to pay for them Himself. He had to leave perfection and glory and immerse Himself into the cesspool of my existence and die. God loves me. . . and I'm messy business. Nobody I know of ever loved me enough to do that.  His blood has covered me and marks me. Thing is, I'm still messy business. Like Paul the apostle said, "My mistakes are always in front of me." Yep. Thank God His grace is enough. . . because I'm a bloody mess.

It's February and my theme for this month will be my perspective on what this "True Love" really is.

Day 29: Big Win

Day 28: CS4

 

Finally got my hands on some CS4. 

Day 27: Peppermint Tea

I had some today, Peppermint Tea. It was pretty good. Think I'll have some more. . . call me what you want.

Day 25: My Dog Needs A Chill Pill!

Day 22: Self-Perception

Does anyone really portray to the world what they truly think of themselves? Anyone?

I don't know . . . do we dare? People who supposedly know say, "just be yourself!" Really? I think if one could find someone, just one person in their life, who could see them as they see themselves – not even as they say they see themselves, but rather their true hidden view of themselves – and that one person still embrace, love and accept them, I don't think there's a word for how blessed that would be. . . or maybe it's called Grace.

Day 21: Imminent Danger

So, I was watching one of these old gangster movies the other day while I was on my back with the crud and everytime a car drove by a pedestrian, I anticipated the bloodbath of Tommyguns burning holes in trenchcoats. It never happened though. Hmm. I think I've been over-conditioned.

Day 20: SERIOUSLY!!!

There's not much that's more evil than a bacterial infection possibly compounded by influenza. It's been a rough 15 days but it looks like I'm in the clear with a few lingering symptoms.

Day 14: The Cure

Yes, I've missed some posts. I've been pretty sick the past couple of days and as I often do when I'm sick, I researched. WOW! Just two cloves of crushed, odoriferous garlic a day would pretty much mean a genuine lack of illness in my life, from colds to cancer! From what I've read, one clove is equal to 15 units of penicillin. Suddenly, vaccines seem so . . . Spanish Inquisitionish. 

I'm going to try it. Of course, those around me would have to get used to the smell of garlic smoldering from my pores. We'll see what happens.

Day 11: Aunt Sue

Yep, my Aunt Sue gave me the recipe for grilled chocolate sandwiches. I'm absolutely ill, they were so good! Thanks, Aunt Sue and congrats on making it into my blog. I'm off to get an insulin shot.

Day 10: Vision

Day 9: Icelanta

 

In the summer, Atlanta is hotter than Hades, but this week it froze over. So . . . make a big wish.

For those of you who may not know, here in the South, Georgia to be exact, it generally doesn't get cold. When it does get cold, it's a wet piercing cold. . . and heaven forbid it to rain. Normally it doesn't snow; it ices. Ice covers everything. Stores run out of food, power goes out, heating systems crash, limbs break and trees fall right out of the ground due to their newly added weight.  If you manage to get out on the road, post winter glazing, you'll find that the indigenous drivers amble slowly and cautiously as if the small patches of ice they meet will explode if hit too hard.

This week was different, though. The freeze left enough ice on the road for this seasoned veteran of northern winter travel to fear the road. But, travel we did. . . cause that's how we roll.

Day 8: Got Nothin'

Day 7: Grrrrr

. . . that kind of day.

Day 6: A Cherokee Proverb

An old Grandfather said to his grandson, who came to him with anger at a friend who had done him an injustice, "Let me tell you a story.

I too, at times, have felt a great hate for those that have taken so much, with no sorrow for what they do.

But hate wears you down, and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feelings many times." He continued, "It is as if there are two wolves inside me. One is good and does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him, and does not take offense when no offense was intended. He will only fight when it is right to do so, and in the right way.

But the other wolf, ah! He is full of anger. The littlest thing will set him into a fit of temper. He fights everyone, all the time, for no reason. He cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is helpless anger,for his anger will change nothing.

Sometimes, it is hard to live with these two wolves inside me, for both of them try to dominate my spirit."

The boy looked intently into his Grandfather's eyes and asked, "Which one wins, Grandfather?"  The Grandfather smiled and quietly said, "The one I feed."

Day 5: From the Ashes

I had a rather large epiphany today. I'll try to work it into one of these blogs. It really changes everything I've been doing the past several years . . . fine tunes my actions actually.

Day 4: 130 BPM

Good news at the doctor's office today . . . except for the bills!!!

Day 3: The Inevitability of Balance

If you like to research symbolism, there's enough here to keep you busy for a good while.

The message is a simple understatement often ignored.

Day 2: Traffic

I really hate traffic.

Day One: Coming Soon

Ok, so a little explanation. The Mayan symbol is of the sun with the monkey in it which, in short, represents the manipulation of time. The moon for the 2010 is marking the beginning of this decade as the evening of this age as the Mayans and other civilizations believe 2012 will be a time of worldwide transition into another age. . . some like to say it will be the end of the world. Whatever you want to believe, this theory is very popular as we see it everywhere. But if everybody truly believed we only had two years left, I would think there would be a panic of some kind. . . or at least a sense of urgency. Only two years left! What are we doing with it? Of course, the Mayans could be wrong. Food for thought!