May 29, 2005

A friend's smile and the summer sun. . .



May 28, 2005

I miss having a basketball hoop. I found shooting the ball to be very meditative— it periodically took me out of my head for an hour, and the rhythm of the ball bouncing on the pavement was quite soothing. 

However, you shouldn't be fooled by this photo: I was far better at being meditative while shooting hoops than I was at sinking shots while shooting hoops.



Got Goth?

May 22, 2005

Top Five Albums to Listen to While Watching Diaphanous Curtains* Blow in the Twilight Wind: Presented in No Particular Order
*Diaphanous curtains or plastic drop clothes, I can't rightly remember which. . .


Counter Clockwise

May 21, 2005

The Photo Phazer doesn't really capture images on the vertical, instead the picture must be reoriented after it has been uploaded to the computer. Nevertheless, there are times when the disorientation that comes with the wrong alignment adds another element of interest to the image. This horribly overexposed shot of my wife's sewing machine surging through some fabric in the evening hours wouldn't be nearly as intriguing if I'd bothered to turn it 90 degrees counter-clockwise.



May 20, 2005

The art of barbecue cooking was not a discipline in college, nor was it a part of my upbringing. I've dabbled in the burning of meat items over an open flame for years now, but as of yet, have really only learned how to start a fire without lighter fluid, oil the grill, and accidentally put out the flame in the midst of finishing off some chicken breasts. 

This less than stellar track record hardly quells my excitement when the warmth of BBQ season infuses the air. Every year is a new opportunity to subject family and friends to some extra carbon, and I waste no time in procuring another bag of charcoal. 


Approximate L

Approximate L Rehearsal, March 21, 2009
Gallery Homeland, Portland, OR
Photo: Jeffrey T. Baker

Local artist/poet Bethany Ides is currently exhibiting her exploration of all things Lindsay at Worksound Gallery in Southeast Portland. Audio, video, and installation are all employed as a means of exposing the slippery linguistic morass time makes of a name. Artworks by other people named Linsey are temporarily appropriated, bodice-ripping fiction by pseudonymic Linseys are desecrated for the sake of heft and mirth, and there's an opportunity to take part in a six degrees of (Lindsay) separation game with minor icons of the silver screen. Enough contextual density exists within the show to keep the nimble mind well satiated. 

Approximate L Rehearsal, March 21, 2009
Gallery Homeland, Portland, OR
Photo: Jeffrey T. Baker

Brandon the director, and Yours Truly the photographer, provided documentation for the performance component of the Approximate L project. The performance took place prior to the gallery exhibit, so we offered up time and equipment to ensure that it was represented within the context of all the other pieces at Worksound. Some of the resulting photographs are shown here, and quite a few more are on display in the show.

Approximate L Rehearsal, March 21, 2009
Gallery Homeland, Portland, OR
Photo: Jeffrey T. Baker

Documenting a performance (or, to be accurate, the rehearsals for a performance) was an intriguing challenge. Neither Brandon or I were familiar with the structure of the performance until we arrived, and we were given complete license to move about and intrude upon the action. Our approach was to shoot liberally and from as many vantage points as possible, hoping that the laws governing averages would work in our favor as well.

For those interested in seeing the exhibit please contact Bethany via her blog. Worksound is open by appointment only, and Approximate L will only be on display through the end of the month.



May 14, 2005

I'm not sure which Joshua Tree outing this was— it could be the "Pull in at Midnight and Nearly Freeze Under the Starry Sky Outing" or the "Joshua Tree Floods as Gale-Force Winds Send All Our Gear Skipping Across the Soggy Desert Outing." 


The Siren Song of Summer

May 12, 2005

By mid-May most students, regardless of age or maturity, have checked out of school. The air smells like summer and the days have stretched to push bed times toward a dangerously unreasonable hour. 

I tell my students that they must treat the last weeks of school in the same way that they treat the last hundred feet of a race— they must find that hidden reserve of energy to propel themselves forward to a strong finish. Some can do this. Some can't. And on those days when every students is joining the great chorus of complaint about some trivial thing (like covering their mouth when they sneeze, or writing their name on their paper) I have to mentally give myself the same pep talk to get through the day.


Nothing New Here

May 11, 2005

Why haven't you read my post from April 28th yet? Do you dislike Van Gogh? Perhaps you find contemplations of ceramic fish lips distasteful— which, as I type it, seems like a perfectly reasonable aversion, but still doesn't excuse skipping an entry that I labored over so mightily. 

I suppose you might have not read it because I didn't post it until today, which is a viable excuse (albeit a little weak).


Looking Back

May 10, 2005

Pneu, free of burdensome ears, contemplates her reduced physiognomy in the lens of the Photo Phazer. Perhaps she was under the spell of regret, trying to piece together the memories of a past when she could better discern the sources of sound. Perhaps the mirror created by the lens spoke less about growing older and more about the youth that was.

Baby Pneu, September 1998
"Isn't she pretty?" (written on the back)


Organizational Irony

May 9, 2005

My wife set up a display board of faux finish brushes to photograph for our home staging and decorative painting business that we started in Southern California. It was one of many "staged" images we created to generate the look of our website, but unlike some of the others, it was quite useful. Whenever we needed a specific brush it was easy to locate (which, I suppose, is why peg board is so popular in garage workshops across America). But, once a brush left the board it rarely made it back on to it, so the effectiveness of the peg board quickly fell victim to our moderately disorganized working habits— the irony of this is easy to spot, as we were in the business of helping people become (or at least, for the duration of an open house, look) more organized.


The Transformation of Baubles

May 5, 2005

This image from 2005 became this image from 2008. . .


Bastion of Hipness

May 4, 2005

One of the things I really appreciate about this photo is the oh-so-obvious shadow of my head in the lower left of the image. A photographic novice mistake par excellence!

* * * * *

In light of the industrial theme of today's image I thought I'd post this little piece I recently completed.

I still have some thinking to do before the proper christening can take place. For some reason the term "airborne toxic event" keeps pulling at my synapses, but then, some may mistakenly assume that I'm referencing a band from Los Feliz* as opposed to a metaphorical cloud of death from a Don DeLillo novel.

*Yes, that very Bastion of Hipness, the oh-so-hip Los Feliz of Los Angeles locale. Can't you feel your jeans getting skinnier just reading about it?


What It Was

May 3, 2005

I had typed a number of rhetorical questions regarding this image but decided that they were more compelling combined into one single sentence.

A tree trunk of poorly applied plaster; considered a mark of aesthetic influence on Hickey.


Prelude Variation

May 2, 2005

I've been revisiting an old stand of trees this week. I caught them in a camera obscura many years prior to 2005, but I find myself returning to them now with the intention of including them in an upcoming show in Eugene. In their "pure" form they look something like this:

Prelude (variation), 1998 (pinhole image caught outside Corvallis, OR)

I'm still finding out what they'll look like backed by gold.


May Day; Subtly

May 1, 2005

I've tried to use words to convey the differing qualities of place, but my handling of them is rarely nimble enough to convey the great discrepancies between my life in California and my life in Oregon. 

It would be better to just let two May Day images, separated by 819.6 miles and four years, impart whatever analogies they will.

May 1, 2009