Tag Archives: Philosphy

Dreamcatcher, Street Photography

January 30th, 2019 …. Re-Experiencing the Experience … Other Thoughts Too

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There are times that I make a photo and it does more than the others. what I mean is, there’s certain energy the photos pass on and shares with me. Sometimes this energy is subdued and not calling out for attention. Other times, there’s a reverberation inside that conjures up memories and just keeps resurfacing over and over. We all do self-portraits in one manner or another. But there are some photos that conjure up messages that we may or may not want to deal with.

It was 1978 and I was in our bedroom and wanted to make a self-portrait. I was wearing boxer shorts and that’s it. I was using a 50mm Cron, early version. Anyway, I was framing the photo, similar to the one above. As I raised the camera to my eye, on the ready….my son2 years old popped his head up from behind the bed. I did not see him. I framed and made the exposure. 3-4 days later the roll was filled and time to make negatives. My fav part of the darkroom. I processed the film and decided to print a few negs. I put the self-portrait in the enlarger and looked at the image on the easel. I decided that an 8″ x 12″ was the right size. I slipped in a sheet of strips to get a basic exposure and then put in a sheet of Portriga Rapid. I made the exposure and developed it and when it was in the fix, I noticed my son Paul’s head on the corner of the bed, peering out to me. I thought the photo was funny and move to another negative. When I took the strip of negs out of the Leica Enlarger, it fell out of my hand onto the floor.

I couldn’t see it so moved around and got safe for white light. I looked down for the strip and low and behold, I had accidentally stood on it. I picked it up and it was destroyed beyond repair. I knew at that instant that this was the only print to ever be born from this negative.

I took Andre’ the Leica M240 and went into the bedroom. I saw the light come thru the curtains and the frame starts to form. I looked around and realized I made a similar photo 41 years ago. I had the feeling of energy reverberating and memories gallop thru my mind. I raised Andre and got ready and made the photo.

I miss my son Paul.

So I often wonder what the trigger is for the inspiration in making photos. I_ mean of course I know most of my triggers but the thing is, where do they come from and why? See, I believe making photos is more than pointing the camera and clicking. There’s an internal release and an external release. They each have a target of intent. Together, they make the moment of the experience happen. Apart and you’re just taking pictures. There are a time and place or making and talking and it’s only important if you understand the difference. If not, maybe you’re the lucky one, just go about freely and take as many pictures as you feel. Not a whole lot of accountability but some need to be that way. Looks around the room carefully and makes sure none of those people are here. Actually, anyone that does photography that way, won’t be here with us anyway.

Unfortunately, we are creatures of habit. It means that if you developed a trigger mechanism many years ago, it’s still inside you and in working order. It also means that if you made a photo that you really respond to and love, you’re probably gonna have that photo in your heart and mind and maybe subconsciously hunt for it again. There’s nothing wrong with this process as long as you are aware of what you are doing. So there are many things in the tangled web of thoughts and emotions that we need to try and sift thru to make the experience of the next photo and rewarding as any before it.

look, of course you can always go on and just find things and hope for the best. It’s natural and acceptable and a proven way to work.

Back in the 1970s, I read a series of books by Carlos Castaneda. Some say he made the entire series up and discounted the entire thing. The thing is, if you read or do anything to give you input, good, bad or indifferent, it affects the way and what you think. Castaneda said that death lives on your left shoulder. As you go thru life, you need to pay attention to your death. He also said that when you do something, do it as if it’s worth dying for. That’s all heavy stuff but the fact is, you can’t escape that. What does all this have to do with photography? Perhaps you figure that out. I may, in fact, have it all wrong. I just know that there isn’t too much in my life that comes close to my photography. Maybe that’s not so great, but I focused on everything and saw most.

So, I have a thing for backgrounds. Funny thing. See, those posters etc are made for you to absorb a product or some kinda info. Oh yeah, I know it’s a hard thing to grasp but they are really advertisements.  So, by making them a background, I am in fact maybe kinda responding to the ad. There is a communication going on and I find it very interesting. We are bombarded by images, media and info, and more every second. How we respond to it all is what I find interesting.

When I look at shooters photos, I like to find the trigger or stimulus for the photo. Not always easy and interesting to see what others see. Of course, it’s more enjoyable to wonder why they made the photo and not so much how they made the photo.  If you wonder how they made the photo, you might end up in a camera store. If you wonder why they made the photo, you’ll more than likely end up looking for your own photos.

Look Y’all, I believe if your not thinking about stuff like this, before, during and after making photos…. you ain’t thinking. Ya probably ain’t feeling either. Not a good thing I tell’ya. If we don’t challenge ourselves to try and find the light, then we just see the light others shine on us. One of the techniques I used to get info into my student’s heads was….. tell them to bring 5 questions about why the others made a photo. See, we look at photos from all members. Then I instruct each member to choose 3 photos. 1 was to be their own and the other 2 from someone else. Now they have till next session to come up with questions and reasons for those questions about the photos. You would be surprised how difficult this really is. The learning experience was to read the questions for others and then the question and answer for their own work.

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I got a message from my Eye, Heart, and Mind. The message states that I am not done writing and expressing myself. It also states the I need to go to the toilet so I need to end this post now. Not my choice but bodily functions rule.

I will do more over the coming weekend. As always my friends, be Blessed on your journey.

…..end transmission…..shooter out…….

Dreamcatcher, Streetshooter

January 9th, 2019 … Blinded With Clear Vision … or … Wake Up the Past to Find the Present

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… you miss the point and you miss and abuse the flavor of life. I will not entertain you with an argument, let me just say, you will never connect your heart to your photos. You probably don’t connect anyone with your heart and for that I feel terrible for your friends and family but my friend…not for you. You have the gift of life and take it for granted.

Sorry friends. You caught me off guard as I was in a discussion about the heart of life and the heart of photography. See, there’s many ways to make photos and many uses and or purposes for those photos.

Flashback….we are at base camp near LZ Liz. I’m sitting around with a couple troops and we are talking about the value we feel for life. Some guys are saying, they would fight to the death and die for America. I feel that way also and continue field cleaning my 45ACP. Spud a soldier from Idaho and on his 5th tour says to me, Jingles, you would die for your friends here and die for your country. I bravely and boldly say, damn right

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Spud knocks me on the head and looks in my eyes. The other troops are looking and trying to figure out what’s happening. Spud says so all the others can hear, Jingles, it’s easy to die here. It’s a worthy cause to die for your friends and your country. You need to find a reason to live for them and America and not die for them. You need to always fight for life, not death. If you survive, you must fight for life every day until you die. You must never surrender to death and when you die, make sure all the world knows it.

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I thought about the dichotomy of life and death. Spuds words resonate in my heart and mind to this very second and I often wonder if he was recognized as a ZEN Master. I asked Spud why he was here so long and he said because here, I am able to feel my life and in the world, I feel I am not worthy and will abuse it.

The thing about photography is, that it is a representation of our life and existence. There is a path to self discovery and for me it has always been with a camera.

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On this path to Self Discovery, we must realize that it is a lonely path and ends in our death.  This does not mean that we can’t share time with others but you’ll catch hell trying to get someone to die with you. That Landmark is strictly a lonely one. OK, so we can’t cheat death or life but what we can do and should do and simply put, must do is: Live our life in a manner that brings focus to our hearts and souls and honors those before us.  As photographers, we should make a worthy battle to maintain our integrity and honor our work as if it is our life’s worth..

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We need to honor our history. It is said that we should see things as if seeing for the first time. Such a simple virgin excuse. By doing so, we erase our history and neglect any value that the work had or has for us. I rather acknowledge;edge my history and maybe make a new photo of the subject but keep the history alive. You simply can not erase the history of your work. So, then, love it and see things differently and make a new photo of whatever you are doing.

Proof that I am not too crazy. We all do exactly as I said every time we make photos of our friends and family etc. If you make photos of a loved one, do you erase the history or embrace it?

I will write more shortly…. go in peace alls………

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Dreamcatcher, Inspired Eye

December 14th, 2018 … Still Crazy After All These Years

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….. it’s the early 80’s and I’ bringing 40 framed prints to a gallery in Olde City for a  solo exhibition. It’s been 2 months in the works to get to this day, The Day of Hanging. I liked to hang shows and am actually very good and precise. I actually was a member of a gallery with the mixed artist. Most were faculty from universities and schools etc. So when I curated and hung the shows, i never had anyone complain. Mixing mixed media and having the show read well, is no easy task. Pat on my back and I needed it. This was different and it’s not my first solo show. It’s just the first for this gallery.

So I park in front of the gallery and P…says we are all ready. He has some young cute assistant and I hmmmmm, Okie. We get all the frames inside and drink coffee. The girl starts moving things around. She feels she has a talent for sequencing work. I’m quiet. P… says Andy is an expert at this. I’m thinking, she’s 21 and an expert….okie. She may very well be but I understand sequencing and she and P…haven’t a clue. i know by the way they placed the frames. So, I said to Andy,m ok… let me give it a shot. I start moving frames and after 15 minutes, I’m happy with the sequence. Andy moves in closer and then turns to me and ask….Do you make all these with a camera? Well, now I am 69 and if she asked me that question, I would poop my pants. oh yeah. This was a long time ago and I was younger and could hold, um… things better. To tell the truth, when Andy asked me that question, I almost did poop my pants. C’mon, what kinda question is that to ask?  Andy says you must be really crazy with all these dark pictures. P…says, yeah, Don makes lots of crazy pictures.

Well, I deal with criticism very well. If a viewer or many viewers have things to say, fine. I don’t take it to heart. Everyone has an opinion and everyone has a lower body part where they can shove their opinions. The thing is, the gallery owner and director make statements like that, I got pissed. We are supposed to be in a synergistic relationship that feeds each other. My prints sell in his gallery and he gets 40% of the sales. So we get it all set up and ready. The 3 of us are sitting around and Andy apologizes for saying my work and I are crazy. P… has to leave and will be back in an hour.

Andy asks me if I can explain some of my photos so she will have a better understanding. Sure I said. She starts questioning me and much to my surprise, the questions were very thoughtful. I’m about 32yo and going on 80. I start telling Andy that I make photos that are a part of my life. See Andy, I was a soldier in Vietnam and that affected me for life. I will never fully get out of Nam. The dark tones, the highlights and the way I present the subject matter, all the aftermath of Nam. I can’t make photos of pretty flowers, or nice buildings and not even make photos of pretty girls,. wait, wait, let’s not get carried away. I can make photos of pretty girls….I’m not stupid.

I explained to Andy that my work is my life and my life is my work. I can’t be what others want me to be. I can’t make photos for anyone except my own soul. I like when someone responds to my work and even like it more if they buy some, but it’s not the motive for my persistence on discovering the world that lives within me and without me.

Opening night P and Andy greet me. I have jeans on and Docksiders, a whiter Tee shirt and a herringbone jacket. People start coming in and I greet them and answer questions. Many are people I know and it’s very comfy. Andy is walking a small group around and explaining my photos. I was so interested in hearing the conversations. She was very heartwarming and captivating. P…comes to me and says, You see why I have Andy here. Andy comes to me and wraps my arm in hers.  < i have a strong heart and won’t let myself fall in love or like or anything. I have a smile on my face and we walk to some people and she introduces me.

There’s an older couple whom I have seen many times at First Friday’s. Andy says Dave and Maria would like to buy 7 photos. I have the list. Andy and I walk to P… and explain that 7 prints are sold. P…says he sold 4 already. I explain to P…. I wish Andy to get 20% from my cut. So, P…you get, 40%, I get 40% and Andy gets 20%. We all agree and Andy is like in heaven. The end of the night we sold 19 prints. The shows up for a month with openings every Friday night. Andy sold more prints and she became a great gallery director. Now she’s one of my finest collectors and takes good care of me. Andy became very wealthy and very informed. She’s well known and a sharp buyer.

I guess the moral of this story, the moral of this song is….. she judged me as crazy and my work. I judged her as a young girl like a butterfly. I learned that Andy had the flair to be a gallery director. She had an instinct for the viewers and how to motivate them to buy. She knew how to stir me and get me thinking and not be complacent with myself just cause I was working over and over in a similar vein.

What did I learn about me?  I’m Still Crazy After All These Years

….as shooters, usually first impressions don’t mean much, we need further investigation of our subject and ourselves to be worthy of Mother Light

Dreamcatcher, Street

December 7th, 2018 … The Day Of Infamy … and the … I’m Sick and Can’t Get Out Post

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… coughing … sneezing … I have been sick since before Thanksgiving. The worst part is not being able to hit the streets. My cameras are pissed and I dare not go near the cabinet. Nah, that’s not the worst part…. hold on a sec…. looks around, hmmm the coast is clear. The worst part is being under Tanya’s rule and medical supervision. Oh yeah, my Russian home remedies doctor. I will admit freely … as she stands over my back … that the remedies actually work. So, I make a tent with a towel and cover my head and on the table, she puts a bowl of cut onions. I get close and breathe in and out, the best way to breathe, and the vapor goes where it’s needed and it’s done for 10 minutes. That’s step 1, oh yeah more coming. So the towel tent also lets her put potatoes in a bowl. She takes 2 potatoes… 1 potato, 2 potato and boils then for 20 min. Then she cuts into pieces and puts them in a bowl and I breathe them in for the 10 minutes.

She’s in the kitchen so I can unveil another Russian Medical Secret. If the politicians find out about this, I’ll be charged with Russian Collusion for Potato and Onion conspiracy. Stinky stuff huh. Anyway … a well-guarded secret is the coveted, Black Radish and Honey procedure. She hand picks a Black Radish at the International grocery store. Not very scientific but I want her to feel special as a Russian Home Remedy Doctor. So I watch in awe like I’m captivated by her skills at the selection. Once we get home, she cuts the black radish into pieces. Like 6 parts. They go into a small bowl and then she pours some honey over the pieces. Then covers the bowl with Russian American approved cellophane. In a few hours, she will take a tsp and put the residue from the honey radish that collects at the bottom of the bowl.

I take the tsp of honey radish and swallow it. Ok, Black Radish and Honey concoction are ready for more processing by the American sick photographer, publisher husband. That brings us to the multi-international but mainly Russian American banana stops the coughing  and eases the mucus special medicine. This is a well guarded, highly sought after remedy. From what I could uncover, it’s cooked banana and some sugar. There’s something else in it and I believe it’s lemon. It is lemon I watched her make it secretly. Anyway, this cooks down and the banana you take 2 tablespoons and swallow. It’s warm but not hot.

This immediately soothes the throat but only the throat. See, as a professional Russian American Home Remedy Doctor, she targets specific sections of the sickness That’s why there are so many remedies. They all work and work well but for specific areas. So for about 2 weeks, I’m under Tanya’s care and it’s nice but as for photography, not so good. This gives me lots of thinking time. So me poor mind is working on some issues and a few I never wanted to address……..

I have been using Leica’s for over 45 years. Anyway, now I use the M240. Great camera and love what it does and more importantly, what it does to me and how it works with me. The problem is, it’s heavy. Oh yeah, I’m not in great shape anymore and I tried many straps and configurations. I have been using the ACAM 25 and it’s a quickly reconfigure strap. Great, actually the very best. Goes from neck to shoulder to cross chest in a second. Cross-chest is best for weight but now, at this point, even that doesn’t work. I get pains in my neck, shoulder, and upper back. So, I need to think about the Leica in a different light. Obviously, that means a wrist strap. Ok, so I have many and many nice ones. I put Andre’ the Leica M240 on a wrist strap… no what? Huh, open for ideas. A shoulder bag is off the list. I have too many and can’t use them anymore. So the obvious alternative is a waist pack. I have the Camslinger Streetomatic bag. It’s great, does more than I need.

So, I am undecided about Andre’ the Leica M240. My instincts tell me to sell him to someone that can use and enjoy him. Our daze together is coming to an end and we both know it. The thing about having more than one camera is, you feel compelled to use them, What the hell, ya got em, use em. My thing is I get into phases where I want to have maybe 2 cameras with me.m No, switching lenses is not the same. I can’t keep this going but I hate to sell off my friends. So I switch around and beings that any camera I have is a trusted friend and we work well together, of course except Andre’ the Leica M240…..bummer

I can’t get out to shoot so I re-photographed from my collection.  Anyways, the remedies really work, don’t lose them, trust me. I think all these are from the Ricoh Gr or GRII. To be honest, I can’t wait for the Ricoh GRIII. Have a blessed weekend my friends. Seeya as soon as I can escape my mad Russian American Home Remedy Doctor.

Please remember that today, December 7th is the Day Of Infamy. Pray for all of us that we never experience another one.

…………………………………..end transmission………………………………………

 

Photography, Streetshooter

November 30th, 2018 … Watching You Watching Me … Passing Time With Harry Bertoia

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I was heading out to Harry Bertoia’s place in Barto Pa, and was anxious to talk with him. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_Bertoia   Harry had a mind that was limitless in thoughts. He was expecting me and had a cup of coffee ready when I arrived. Harry was sitting and looking at some of his sculptures. I sat in the chair next to him and by the way, the chairs were sculptures by Harry. Harry looked at me and asked, “What do you see”? I know that no matter my answer, it would either be wrong or in adequate. I told Harry that I can only explain what I’m seeing that connects my heart. (If this is wrong, I don’t wanna be right) I said I see the light, textures, shapes and the physical things associated to each piece.

Harry smiled and said, what do you think the pieces are thinking as they look at us? My eyes kinda perked up and I was caught off guard. It’s 1976, my son Paul was born 5 months prior to this event. I hadn’t done any drugs in a long time, no pot, no alcohol either. Clean and sober except for photography. So I felt kinda trippy when Harry asked me that question. I never thought about my works watching me as I watch them. It’a absurd I tellya, totally absurd. That’s not the lesson he was teaching me.

Harry was teaching me about perception and how it applies to others seeing me. Harry said that my work is stronger than any mirror image. Look at your self in a mirror and you may adjust yourself as you see fit. When you look at your work, realize that it is looking at you and can’t be adjusted. You just need to accept the fact that it is you and another way of seeing yourself and being seen.

Minor White had a similar concept about viewing work. He felt that it was a 3 way process. The photographer, The work and the viewer. All 3 are as one and not one part shall be excused from the others. I agree with these Master of course. I also like to add that there are other elements involved and even as the work is created. The idea of money or paid work, regardless of the original intent, will most certainly effect the outcome.

The intent of the photo is now maybe divided upon the shooter and the shooter’s client. The photo that’s looking back at us maybe is in the hands of a client and those eyes are watching us intently. Who or whom is our work satisfying now? I think Harry had a getter grasp on this than Minor. Harry made and sold a lot of work. His Sounds Of Sculpture is an amazing recording. I got to play some of those sculptures in his studio. Harry gave me a small mushroom sculpture and I still have it. In fact I was looking at it a short time ago and it told me to write this blog post, so I did,

 

 

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Philosophy of Street, Street

November 12th, 2018 … Long Time Since I Been On This Street Before

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….it’s 1976 summertime at night, about 7:30 pm. Bill and I are at the Polynesian bar on Walnut at 18th Streets.  We are each drinking a beer talking about photography. Bill says, Don, I can’t keep up with you in photography. You are too serious and you understand more than I dream of. I was flattered because, in a way, Bill saved my life and got me focused on the very thing he says he can’t keep up on. He mentored me on art, presentation, curating, editing, seeing and introduced me to Ding McNulty. I really felt good. Bill told me, Don, I went to RIT for 4 years and you know and understand more than my professors and never finished High School. Now I was uneasy. I mean I knew that this was meant with an intent but not know what that was.

….back to the bar. These 2 older guys are eyeing Bill and me up. They are very obviously a couple and appear very loving. The taller guy walks over to me and says, M3, nice. He says, 35mm Cron, great lens. What do you take pictures of? I replied, Life. Hmm, he says. Does Ya have anything against death? I said no, I spent a year in Nam and death.  He told us that he was a Grunt in Korea and made many photos for the Corp.

We start talking about the military and war and all the shit in between. I asked him if he still made photos and he said he has nothing to say anymore. I said I can’t imagine having that situation.

2 days later, Bill came to my house and shook my hand and said, Take Care.  I never saw or heard from Bill again. I believe he went to his sisters in California.

I can see myself sliding into the abyss of silence.  It’s not like tall man so many years ago, it’s more intense. I feel that I have something to say, no I need to say things but don’t have the energy and heart to do so.  Maybe it’s not even that. I hope that it’s external stimuli that affect me to the point of drowning in my own negativity. That I believe I can manage somehow and even muster up the gumption to fight the good fight. What if it’s not external at all? What if it’s internal, my eye, heart, and mind that are lacking the energy and more? What if I realize that I don’t have anything to say. What of the lost words that speak my thoughts and memories? What of those thoughts? Where will they live or will they as me die?

 

I think about this stuff because it matters. I’m told by others, that it matters to them also. Maybe that’s the most important issue at hand. See, if I am self-destructive, mainly it’s caused by me and to me. I don’t know, my shrink at the VA keeps things focused for me but it’s me that’s out of focus. Maybe I’m not out of focus. Even with the Leica, I have more photos zone focused than precisely focused. I think here, I’m in the zone of reasonable thought train even if not precisely focused. The point is like this. If you learn something from someone, there exists an inherent responsibility to share that knowledge.  The other responsibility is to take that knowledge further than when you found it. This is not a mandatory thing. Most won’t want to explore those thoughts and all the work that comes with them.

So I accept the burden of being my own source of energy and inspiration. Not that I don’t get these things from others, I certainly do but mine is embedded in my soul. That means I now assume what I always did, the accountability of my work. This applies to me and you. Oh yeah, you don’t get off the hook that easy. I’ll do the grunt work like posting photos which includes time out on the street making them etc. See, not easy. It also means I will post my thoughts in text.  I’m gonna make it easy for each and every one of you. If you like, just read and see the photos. I have to state, the photos mostly are not made to work with the word. The thing is that both photo and words are from me, so maybe that means something. Linda of the Legend of The Girl Child Linda tells me that my words are my work as well as my photos. It’s a novel idea and I will consider thinking about that. So, if’n you have the need to express yourself, please feel free to do so on the blog.

So, I will do my job but not only self-appointed for you but for me. I can’t stop making photos. It’s an addiction for many, many photographers. I don’t suffer from that addiction. For me it’s life.

Peace all…. seeya’s soon, I promise

 

Dreamcatcher, Philosophy of Street, Street Photography

September 14th, 2018 … Foundation … Pt 2 … Ongoing Lessons of the Girl Child Linda

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….ringy, ringy, youse all know now that’s the phone. Hi Don, it’s me, Linda, I’m ready so let’s meet at the Magee bus stop. Okie Dokie I say. After a few minutes, we are both there. I have Garry the Olympus Pen-F and Linda has the still unnamed Leica M10+. We sit and all around us are school kids. They are standing, sitting, squatting, laying, climbing and things I dare not mention. If Arlo was here, there’d be a new song. Anyway, the bus gets to the terminal and we walk to the Elevated train and get seats in the back so we can talk. Many kids storm the train and there are no less than 14,000 standing right near us. Linda says it was 13,471 but I won’t argue with a lady. One thing they all have in common, the use of profanity.  Oh yeah, I hear many profanity type words and now I understand what they learn in school. I myself, hardly ever use profanity. I mean why the hell would I talk in such a shitty way?

The train continues on its journey and then, then we reach the land of Oz and almost all the kids, all 13,471 -14,000 do the deboarding procedures. Linda looks me dead in the eye and says, I’m proud of you for not giving the kids a hard time. We deboard the train at 15th Street and start walking to the diner on 18th. Linda has her M10+ in her hand and is taking snaps as we walk. She’s a taker at this point and not a maker yet.

She asked me to define my thoughts on the foundation of work. I told her I really did in the last post but she said she didn’t read that post but just lived it. Ok, so I explain that when we work, there are triggers that make us release the exposure. I’m not talking about the exposure equivalent, I mean the location of the eye, heart, and mind at the time of exposure. Let’s assume that we all have certain subject matters that we let into our heart and mind. When we go to work, our eyes seek to realize what the heart and mind have accepted as fit for photographic pursuit.  The foundation is essentially the roots of our body of work.

There are common denominators that define what we do with our work. For example, Icons, Street, Social Seen, Juxtaposition, The Light and The Dark. These are some of the stones of my foundation. When I work, maybe one or another pop-up and direct me so explore it. Without a recognition of your foundation, you will never feel satisfied and worse yet, kinda lost with your camera. Always looking for “What, Where”.

There are a few ways to live this journey. One is to wander around and hope that you find a photo that equals your intent, eye, heart, and mind. The other is to have a map to explore but always aware that you live this map. Of course, you can wander around all you like but with a map, you know when you are exploring either new territory or, the path that you know well.  The map is the foundation and the foundation is the very essence of your life.

Dreamcatcher, Street, Street Photography

September 12th, 2018 … Finding a Foundation for Working … Gift From The Girl Child Linda

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… ringy … ringy…ok for the oldheads ….this is the sound of a real telephone calling. For youse youngin’s… even your digi-phones have a simulated old school ring. Anyway,  I recognize the ring as The Girl Child Lindas. So she tells me she is home after almost 2 months travel vacation. Linda tells me that my method of One Shot Per Shoot saved her. It kept her focused and gave inspiration.

Oh’ sorry about that. I need to clarify exactly what that means. No, not the part of being focused or inspiration, the one shot per shoot part. Alright, here comes the street shooters guide to the universe. Well, it’s the universe of our own and we live in it. What’s the name of this universe? Well first off, it’s a private unique universe lived in individually by each of us. What makes the private universe universal is the common universal denominator, “GRATIFICATION”. I know, who in the world cares about gratification? It must be some foreign thing that may be a small esoteric group of shooters are aware of and work towards. Imagine that!

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Ok, let me get to the point. If we go out and shoot and say make 50 exposures, what we have is a visual salad of images. Emotionally we are in a conundrum because we have too many images from a shoot to really absorb and digest each one. Let me make this even more personal. I always go out with the 1 shot per shoot intent. That doesn’t mean only one shot per shoot to make, just one shot per shoot to show and love. See, there is the problem, I go out and make photos, I am not a heavy shooter, I’m about 184lbs. So, I tend to really want to make a photo that stays in my heart.. So here’s the issue, we have about 2 means of editing. The first is pre-exposure. Here’s where we need to be tuned into ourselves and be kinda selective. This is also where our NAMED camera is our partner. If you have an unnamed camera, may Mother Light shine on your soul and show you the light.  We have post exposure. Here’s the editing process again, usually a darkroom or pc whatever.

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One of the largest differences and what also makes the POC, Point Of Confusion, is pre-exposure, you are dealing with source and scene definition. Post-exposure you are dealing with the two dimensional captured images. Linda is asking me a lot of questions. I can’t be a numbskull with her, so I need to give answers that are true as I know them. or at least as I can convince her they are true. Maybe some think I know a lot and maybe I do but I don’t believe it. I’m not even a good student in life. I’m told that with all I do that, in the end, I will die and can’t take a camera with me. What the hell kinda life is that I’d rather be dead.

Oh’ don’t worry, I’m gonna drag youse thru this stuff all winter. Anyway, Linda, youse know her as the Girl Child Linda, want’s me to explain what the foundation of work really is. Seems like she’s really charged on just doing her photography. So we be talkin’ ’bout cameras and she pulls out of her bag a Leica M10P I think it is. Anyway I make a fuss about it and she’s smiling and her pretty little self with her pretty new camera and if she reads this, I’m dead meat. Nice camera, the kind ya can build a foundation on. Not the only one but if ya have it, well, why not go for it.

 

Well, I start talking and ya know, when that happens and I even surprise myself sometimes, I get ta giving info that’s locked up in me poor brain. Linda, see…the foundation of your work is the same as a home. Sure, it seems like if you have a foundation and you work on that , then you may be kinda locked in or boxed in, at least feel that way. When we think about anything, it’s good to be on the outside looking in. With a new home, a builder makes a foundation. Then many times the house actually extends above and beyond the foundation. See, the foundation is a strong one and the builder knows how to work within and without. So he can do things that may surprise others and even himself because he understands the foundation he works on.

 

(Yo ya’ll….I am already working on the second part of this but Linda don’t know it. Please just don’t say anything and we will get thru this in a long jiffy.) I smile cause she’s looking at me with a face like, get to the damn point shooter, or else. See I know that face. It’s the face that a woman gives you and you know you better wash the dishes. Linda, here’s some info.

We all know that the Eye, Heart and Mind are the cornerstone of the foundation that we work from. It’s the cornerstone and perhaps the most important but works synergistic-ally with the rest of the foundation. We live and build our work from that solid concept that we have etched in your heart and mind. Wait, wait…. gotta run, I will put the next post, the follow up to this shortly, not my shortly but the shortly that most of us, except me take as a standard. I promise……

 

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……….end transmission………………………

 

Dreamcatcher, Philosophy of Street, Street Photography

August 20th, 2018 … A Walk Thru The Shadows in the Valley of Death

15 Comments

…. I know, it’s bloody hot and I’m sweating my ba…back off. I look at Polly and she’s in shorts, a crop top, and Asian flats. Her long hair is bone dry. Meanwhile, I’m hot and sweating and wearing shorts and a Vet Tee Shirt, all cotton. We both have our Leica’s and I’m with Andre’ the M240. Polly has the unnamed M10, pity. We are walking to the Art Museum and we see a dead cat on the street. She looks like yuch. I start thinking, here’s a woman that can cut a person open and hold their heart and life in her hand and not even think yuch. A dead cat and she has tears. We sit on a bench cause we are tired and need a rest. we all know that I could go on for hours walking but Polly being younger needs a break. So not to make her feel some kinda way, I start breathing heavier and ask for a break…

I asked her why she was so upset about the cat and fully understood that I would get a proper answer. Polly tells me that, “every single cell of life ever born is a part of us. We are attached to all things living. When someone or something dies, we have a loss within us. We don’t always feel that loss because at the very instant death presents itself, life grants a new being to be borne. We don’t always pay attention to this phenomenon, but we live it nonetheless.” I put my arm around Polly’s shoulder and asked her…  Polly, do you really believe all that? She said no Don, not at all…….I live it. She asked me, you have a wealth of knowledge about photography, and life….do you believe it? I looked her straight in the eyes, no luv, I live it. She grabbed my hand and said, let’s go, old man, we still have a ways to go.

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Polly told me her younger, 28,  brother was coming to the USA because he wants to be a TransGender. She told me that he wants to stay here and of course get the money from Polly for the transition. She wanted my opinion. Well, Polly, ya know each one of us gets one life. The choices we make in life set the course of our journey. It also sets in motion how we and our life affects the others we come in contact with. We are responsible for all that we touch in the world. I know that many TransGenders commit suicide. Many Vets do the same, like 22 a day, every day always. It is said that PTSD moves a soldier to that direction. The Soldier needs help to discover a single reason to stay alive. Not many reasons, but 1 single reason and with help, that may turn to 2 reasons. Believe me, 1 reason is a lot. 2, is a gift.

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I wonder if a son says to his dad, I want to be a transgender. I imagine that the dad would be freaked out. His on with tits and a girls ass, etc. What would his family and friends think? Dad prolly thinks, what did I do wrong. So the son walks around feeling like something is missing in his heart. He joins the service cause that’s a manly thing to do. The son wants to be the man his dad will be proud of and becomes a grunt. Maybe he gets deployed to Afghanistan. Maybe after some time, he gets wounded, or his legs off or maybe he dies defending his teammates and his country. His dad gets a Flag and a letter explaining how proud the country is of his son’s service and how he’s a hero and dad should be proud of his son. After the funeral and dad is sitting in his favorite chair, where he used to hold his son and make him feel loved, and special, I wonder if being a TransGender would be so terrible. I wonder if there’s anything in existence that dad wouldn’t do to hold his son in his lap again.

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To me, this seems like a waste of lives. The son dies for what he believes in but not everything he believes in or what believes in him. Dad gets to think and feel about the loss of his son for the rest of his life. Probably looks at me and squeezes my hand and says,” thanks”. I don’t want my brother to die but he will never see my family again. He will be forbidden. I look at her intently and ask, and you, how will you deal with him? She says she loves her brother and will do all to support him. She asks is that right Don? Polly, maybe he will need help with woman’s clothes. Polly pushed me and laffs out of control. That might be fun. My sisters and I always dressed him in our clothes and made him our living doll.

 

People have the right to be whom they feel they are and even to change. I’m a firm believer of that. I’m also a believer that if you’re a pedophile., murderer, rapist etc, maybe you have the right to be that but we as a society have the right to terminate your existence.

You may be any member of the LGBT community and the society that criticizes and condemns you also has the responsibility to respect you. What does this have to do with photography? Well, I’ll speak for me. Photography is about life and life is about photography. They call the mainstream photography “Street”. It is, no doubt but the true definition of street is “Life.” Acceptance of someone or something that is not agreeable to us is difficult and many can’t do it or fathom another that can. Polly’s brother will no doubt have a nice life here in the USA. His sister is the purest heart I have ever experienced in my life. She obviously will nurture him and make his life mean something. The sad part is, his brothers and sisters and parents and family and friends in Japan, will only ever see him thru Polly’s photos.

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I went to the course of this blog because Polly is a dear friend. She needs me to help her find the peace that she wants and her brother also. A lot of youse will say, shooter, what’s up with all this gender stuff? I’ll tell ya what. Many of you are soldiers, photographers, teachers, friends whatever. If my heart ever decides it’s had enough, I want Polly to be the one that is at my rescue.

Dreamcatcher, Inspired Eye, Street Photography

August 1st, 2018 … How to See a Horse

6 Comments

Ya know that rule about eye contact, being most important? Well, I was never one to follow rules too closely. Not that there’s anything wrong with it but sometimes I like my photos to just be observed. See the girl up above, yeah, the one in the white dress? Well, if I waited a fraction of a second, we would be locked in the eyes. I anticipated that and released before that happened. Why? Well, she’s got that mask thing on, she’s all alone in her world and I just observed her and made the photo. I suppose it’s not really like a detachment. I mean if she’s in her world and I’m in mine and I make a photo of her, am I intruding on and in her world.  Stuff like this haunts me all the time because i never really get an answer that fully answers the question once and for all.

Did you ever analyze your subject matter?  Did ya ever question why certain things turn you on and other things, ya don’t give a hoot about? Sounds like childs play and maybe ya think it is but I tellya, these are life altering questions. I think the way to work this is to anylize your images and find a common denometer that inks them.  OK, shhhhhhh… we are all serious about photography and our lives, granted. If you haphazzardly spread this stuff around, next thing ya know, the one you kinda donr’t really care about,  well that one will end up in a Museum and you’ll have to pay to see the work. So we keep this under wraps and even Mueller can’t figure this out.

The novice would think we are talking about trigger mechanisms. We are in a way but it don’t weigh enuff. We all know that the trigger mechanism lives inside the photo and perhaps that made us click the shutter. Hold on folks, just a min….I am losing myself. da da la de da… there I am…  See, the difference is this….subject matter is already a choice that sleeps in your eye, heart and mind. Your job and the job of your Named camera, is to respond to outside stimulus and then and only then let the trigger set the shutter for the photo.  So I think where we need to get clarity, and I speak, no…sorry I write about this because there seems to be a bit of confusion on the area of photography.

Probably most of us can anaylize our intent ansd subject matter.  It’s like this. If we look at a horse long enough, we still see a horse. Walk around like those blind Priest and the elephant. No matter what you do, you will see a horse. Partially because we are programed to see things and apply tags to them quickly. So, a horse is a horse of course a horse will always be a horse, of course. If you don’t believe me ask Mr Ed. Ya don’t trust a horse, ask Wilber. See, our mind as powerful as it is, has preconceptions and other things in there to boggle it. If we look at a horse and see a horse, we fit in to the mass of society and we never need think any different. We are in the safety zone of no questions and need no answers. It’s acceptable and down right proper. What’s my point? ok…..

As a photographer, wait… as an inhabitant of this planet we all love and destroy together it’s socially and photographically to see a horse as a horse. BUTT!

When I see a horse, I want to know it’s name. I love the brown coat and the way he stands, so proud, even while making a dumping. I love the white patch that he has between the eyes. I wonder if he’s married and even has kids. I wonder what the horse is thinking about as he looks at me. I think his name is Ralph, Ralph the horse. So noble. Why on earth would anyone just see a horse? Hold on now. This might be crazy and from me, youse know it could be. Wait a darn minute. I just had a brain, ummm well… thought. Not very often but i learned to pay attention.

What if and I know this is a stretch, what would happen if we all looked at our subject matter and didn’t just see a horse?  What if we really tried to feel our subject matter from our Eye, Heart and Mind? What if Edmund Bacon was right? What if we looked at our scenes on the streets and the people being affected and affecting the environment. What if we didn’t see a horse at all and we just saw Ralph the horse that is smarter than I?

If we get bold enough, nah… what if I get bold enough and go out with Andre’ the Leica M240 and look for photos and break the patterns of thoughts and emotions and seek to find out there what dwells in me.