a new way of seeing things...

Jeps. I'm rethinking and redesigning. everything. This site will stay up until I get tired of it, but I will no longer be making updates.

So, check out the new blog at : eyeheartphoto.blogspot.com

Cheers!

Jewel of the South

Last year I spent nearly a month photographing Drag show performances in Appalachia. Today, I discovered that my favorite appalachian GLAM-A-ZON is no longer with us. This is shocking and sad and I feel so lucky to have known and photographed Stayzia, who was only 38 years young.

The Problem of RAW files

For those who shoot with a digital camera:

There's a problem with the future of the RAW format.

In the future there will be new computers, new operating systems and old software will become obsolete. Remember how you bought all those 8-tracks? Remember floppy disks?

"...camera makers will support legacy files only for that long, until it becomes too much of a burden or expensive (or they go out of business like Konica-Minolta), so the future for current RAW files is very, very uncertain."

Thankfully, there is someone trying to address the issue by finding solutions and grilling companies about their plans for the future preservation of our work. Check out the OpenRAW website and be more aware of your camera model's files and your options.


Or, start shooting film again.

Summer is nearly over, sigh.

Portrait of the artist, Aimee Anthony.

a blow to the head

I've been meaning to post this for awhile. The photo above is one I took of my father's silhouette in the foreground with our family business burning behind him. I was the one who received the call in the middle of the night that it was on fire. When we first got there, it was small and in the back of the building. Then there was a loud roaring sound. Gas-fire. My family watched it burn to the ground for over 11 hours. I finally experienced what it was like to be horrorstruck and have the local media there with cameras.
I wonder if my emotions and senses will ever be as extraordinarily alert as they were that night. It was completely out of my control and all I could do was watch
its awfulness
its awe-fullness
and take pictures.

My home away from home

I'm a homebody who's never home. A city girl who belongs in a field. A typical gemini with varying interests. Many of the people I have photographed over the years, I've established tight bonds with. One in particular, I consider my 2nd family. They invite me to frolic on their farms as a friend and not a recruitment. And I'm so lucky to have them in my life.

Cult, tribe or commune, call them whatever you like. I know them individually and as a group. My best friend lives with them. Although, I may not agree with everything they say, that doesn't mean I can't learn a lesson and be a friend. I've heard both sides. Although I'll refrain from delving in it, I do believe they have found something, a connection and a compassion, that our Capitalist society has lost. They have a right to live the way they do and I'm always glad to see people champion against the grain.

The Circus Comes to Town

Speaking of the circus... Barnum and Bailey's Circus came to D.C. about a month ago at the Verizon Center. Given my history, I just HAD to go! I'm not too fond of arena shows. I prefer the small, arty one-ring circuses, but I really liked some of the BB performers.



Cutest clown ever? He attached himself to my backpack.

Meet Me in St. Louis!

This may be my favorite image. At the time it was taken, I was in a very euphoric place. I was 18 and had traveled to St. Louis to join a circus. It was one of the first times in my life I felt completely independent and free. And it almost didn't happen. My mom had her foot down that I should not go after I repeatedly tried to convince her that I'd be taken care of and had a place to stay. After about a week of pouting, my father secretly helped me buy a ticket and a few days later I was off. In reality, though, I didn't have a place to stay and no one was there to watch after me. I just assumed I'd sleep in a tent on the premises after I met up with my contact. I didn't calculate, however, that St. Louis would have a record breaking heat-wave that year and the circus would sit on top of black asphalt.
I spent my first day falling in love with St. Louis. I walked around the arch, fell asleep in the park, watched gigantic trees float down the mississippi, admired St. Louis' amazing old-world architecture and rode the light-rail. I was traveling alone and felt completely at peace with the world. But I can't say i was completely alone and I'll never forget the musicians, the kind juggler, the liberated manager, the somewhat vain clown, the crazy and ridiculously good-looking Cossacks, the mer-man! and the two Mexican women I met in Soulard.
I moved to the Soulard neighborhood when the heat was unbearable and all the performers moved into hotels. There was a hostel I stayed at that was empty except for 2 mexican women who bought me cream sodas everyday and took me to their cousin's wedding. I was in love with the neighborhood and its strange isolation. I thought I might never leave it (and in a way, i guess i never have). I managed to do a lot of writing while I was there.
One night, when I was coming back from the circus, I found by a gate the book The Outsiders. I stayed up all night reading it and assumed there was a higher reason I stumbled upon it. Once finished, I called my friend Sarah and had one of the best conversations we've probably ever had. I sat on top of a rusty, old coke bottle machine, petting a black cat and just broke everything apart. I was contemplating so many things, I was feeling so much and questioned the relevance of experiencing them alone.

And what's the relevance of me writing all of this? Well, when the Washington Post reporter asked me why I do photojournalism, specifically photographing subcultures, I had a hard time explaining and kept tripping over my own words. There's a lot of factors that have led me here, but I find discussing it is similar to discussing my experience in St. Louis. I'd almost rather get into a debate about Israel (or communism with Jason ; ) Its just hard to explain, hard to show. I'd much rather do it through sharing a story.

List #5:

1. The Man Who Planted Trees by Jean Giono. I found this book a few months ago in Blagden Alley. Some librarian deity wants me to read more.

2. Another reason i do what i do... i heart Stephan Hawkin!