Wednesday, April 29, 2009


After two days of terrible allergies, it rained in the middle of my baseball game tonight, and the relief was wonderful. To pass the time while it rained, the teams exchanged riddles on a ball they passed from dugout to dugout. (favorite: How far can a deer run into the woods?) I love shooting sports outside-- football season cannot return soon enough. Though, I wonder if I'll be at a job where I get to shoot high school football. I sure hope so.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009


I feel terrible because of allergies, and it's pretty unpleasant to be alive. I'm sorry if you've called me and I haven't called you back. I thought I had dodged Indiana allergies, but I guess not. Taking pictures is always a great cure for just about anything that ails you. None of these hits the bullseye, but nevertheless . . .

Friday, April 24, 2009

Morels, Part 2

We invited ourselves over to Joe & Lindsay's for the eating of the mushrooms (and venison loin, and potato gratin, and new asparagus, and bread and pesto and oatmeal cookies.) Though I've always loved M.F.K Fisher's appreciation for eating alone, nothing beats lunch out in Dubois.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Step Back

I had a wonderful day yesterday, and mostly because I was busy. The highlight of the day was mushroom hunting. I'm trying to step back a little more. I'm trying to take Robert Capa's famous "if your pictures aren't good enough, you're not close enough" mantra less literally. I'm looking for a little more context. And, as always, I'm packing my bags.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Features and Being Quiet

I'm always feature hunting, even when I'm home in Seattle. Driving around, spotting things going on in front yards and on the street, my first instinct is always "stop! there's a feature!" though there's no paper to put it in. I wonder what life will be like when I'm set adrift in September, after my internship at the Dallas Morning News. Where do all the features go when the community photojournalist is without a community?
With highs in the upper 70s on Saturday afternoon it was too hot to wait inside, so Courtney Carnahan, a sophomore, and Kevin Woodcox, a junior at Jasper high school, waited for their ride to prom on the sidewalk on the corner of 4th and Clay streets.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Keeping it Simple

The sun came out, if only for a few hours, and it was like a veil being parted and finally some reason came back into my life.

Sunday, April 12, 2009


On the subject of what the future of rural butchers might be, Allen Betz's nephew glances up at his during Easter supper at the home place (an Indiana phrase I've never heard anywhere else-- the place your family is from, originally.) Tying up loose ends, I want to really have a good edit of my family butcher story, because I feel strongly about it, and, as it turns out, I'm not great at narrative stories. Stories for layout, sometimes. But 8-10 pictures sequenced in a linear progression to tell a story? Haven't even gotten close yet. I'd like the Betz story to work both ways, and so I'm shooting a little more before I leave, in my free time.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Egg Hunt

He's been wearing the Superman costume since his dad left for Iraq because he wants to be strong for his mom. He has five versions of the costume so he can wear it everyday. And thus, I went from being depressed to being grateful, once again. Thanks, photojournalism.

Friday, April 10, 2009


I don't have enough time to finish all the things I've started here. Five more weeks. Even more boxes packed. Gotta drink all the wine in the pantry before I leave. And, on a Friday night, spend a little time with the family with the beautiful light. There isn't really a story here, but I can't help myself. I just love making portraits.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Blog Hiatus: Look

I shouldn't have. First, I'm leaving Jasper in about five weeks, and I've already packed up a number of books. A large number. I love my books. The cookbooks (mostly) will be in the mail in a few days, and I've squirreled away a few volumes that I can't live without. So when I ducked into the nun's yard sale (yeah, the nuns had a yard sale) and came upon these volumes of Look, I just couldn't say no. I'm leaving an amazing paper, that has a great tradition of making photos work with page design. Look had a great tradition of photo essays, like this excerpt from Paul Fusco, "George's Branch, Ky." Talk about Kentucky gothic. Wow. And these are 51 bound volumes-- representing the magazine from the height of its circulation, right to when it closed in 1972. Remarkable essays that I have a feeling are going to help me keep my inspiration through some tough times ahead.
On another note, I'm on my way to four days of eating and sleeping and happiness in the pacific northwest. See ya next week!

How I feel today

Just not quite enough time to get anything done right.

Friday, April 3, 2009


You just take a jar of goat cream, and shake it for 40 minutes. Voila. Butter. Amazing

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Stories: In A Minute

Driving. Attempting to get somewhere, but getting lost on the way. The assignment falls through. Or: waiting in the car as the sun sets and the day becomes amazing, out of what otherwise had been a perfectly regular day. And then, because you're in the car, waiting for something else, you notice the transcendent light. This is not hyperbole. This is a fact: that your heart soars because of it. Just when you think there will be nothing to photograph, you just pull the car over the first instant you see people. A story that could take years to really tell right is in front of you. But there's just a half an hour. So this is what you get: he's 18, his baby girl Destiny is six months. Out with his someday mother-in-law, (because he and his girfriend are waiting until they're 21 to get married) her daughter, and a friend. Fishing, but not really. Just not sitting in front of the TV. The sun is setting. He mixes formula and then chases the girls around while the baby is on the blanket, looking at the sky. He carries the fishing gear and the car seat back to the truck. This could be a story. If I wasn't leaving in a few weeks. (Somedays I imagine my heart might explode, or whatever this feeling is.)