I recently read an article about a photographer named Richard Prince. "Rephotography" was a term he coined for his style in the late 70s and early 80s in which he photographed all or portions of commercial advertisements and photographs. I'm sure video stills qualify as a form of rephotography.
Apartment dwellers on 17th St NW do their part to decorate the community for the holidays.
I hitched a ride with some friends to the Building Museum. It is always an awe inspiring site. This time I noticed that the higher up in floors you are the more modern the construction techniques become. The ground floor has columns in the first and ionic style, the ceiling may have been taken from a steel mill.
Flying out of the Orlando Airport during the wee hours of the morning offers some interesting people watching. People watching is what I did until my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew got through airport security to join me. We ate left-over turkey until it was time for them to go to there gate and me to mine.
This is my sister Patti's dog, Casper Addison. His nick-name is "Fat Boy." He gets so happy when you give him attention that he wiggles in circles and whines with happiness. He is so fat that he has a fat nodule on one side of his stomach. One day his fat nodule might grow four legs and a head and become another dog altogether. For Christmas my sister got him a plush chew toy that makes Kung Fu sounds when you squeeze it.
Christmas is great for bringing back memories. Maybe this is the real reason we create and hold traditions. My great-niece Michelle got a four-wheeler from my sister (her grandma) today for Christmas. It reminded me of my fifth or sixth Christmas when my dad got me a three-wheeler. I remember finding a map on the tree Christmas night. That map was a clue that led to another and another until we ended up in the barn, my three-wheeler was hidden inside of a hollow stack of hay bales. I also remember being disappointed with my father's gifts on later Christmases. I might regret my disappointment now if I thought it made a difference.
Taira, my niece took me to karaoke on Christmas Eve. When we stopped at the gas station I wondered if the burnt out light was a bad omen.
When we got to the bar called Fox Crossing and joined in the merriment I knew this was a great place to be on Christmas Eve.
Before I left DC for my short Christmas vacation to see my family in Florida everyone was saying how lucky I was to get away from the cold and snow of the District. I told them that Florida itself was having record low temperatures. Today I went shopping with my niece. I wore a short-sleeved shirt in the temperate rain. Yesterday my mom told me to put a jacket on and it was in the 60s.
Me, my mom, my sister-in-law, and my nephew all went to the barber today. For my nephew who is nearly 2, it was his first haircut. It was my first trip to the barber in approximately 3 years, maybe more. (I usually just buzz it off myself.)
Here we are in the reflection of the skylight at Orlando International Airport. By "we" I mean me, one of my sisters, my brother, my sister-in-law, and my nephew. We are one of the dysfunctional families that both legend and movies are based on.
Monday was the last day of the semester. Adam was out in the school's parking lot carving through a decent-sized tree trunk with an electric chainsaw. It's the first step in shaping before he goes at it with chisels. Even though classes have stopped, for serious artists the work doesn't.
I went out to walk around tonight during the first snow of the DC Winter. Me and my friend Don stopped into CVS in the middle of the flurry. The security camera allows you to greet yourself on the way in. If WalMart catches on to self-hosting there will be a lot of old people out of a job.
I took this photo in January 2000 in the Mojave Desert during a large training exercise I participated in and covered called the Combined-Arms Exercise or "CAX." This photo (which has to be the coolest self-portrait I have ever taken) had recently been hanging in my bathroom behind the toilet. Yesterday I decided to stay home and clean up some old stuff, so my photo choices consisted of this or a pan of fried rice.
I was already on my way to comatose when the Swing's Christmas party started. It seemed like I did something out of order that made me uncomfortable the entire night. By "out of order" I'm not referring to hurt feelings or belligerence; I'm talking about drinking 4 eggnogs after several rum and Cokes. Enough second-hand smoke materialized in my lungs to give a giraffe a sore throat. After several performances by Frank, Swing's electrician/magician, I made a fan out of a fork and a Styrofoam plate. Someone called me Cleopatra because of it. Instead of acting out (with at least violent words) against the remark, I was too tired to care. The atmosphere was perfect at the Xchange Saloon. My final drowsy moments (before staggering through the crowd and out the door) were submerged in a Charles Dickens underworld. I believe this illusion was created by both Frank the Magician and the eggnog.
This is my own variation of the first photograph which was a heliograph by Nicephore Niepce made in 1827, and entitled "View from his Window at Le Gras." I am doing some last minute studying for a History of Photography Final Exam I have this morning.
This is Kurt taking a look at my laptop. I mentioned I had a display problem and he said I could bring it in and he would look at it. Since it is no longer under warranty "look at it" can also mean remove panels and poke at computer innards marked "Warning: High Voltage" with a small screwdriver. "Hey that thing says 'High Voltage,'" I said. Kurt assured me the sticker was only there to ward off any attempts at home repair. In a very short time Kurt found that his earlier diagnosis of a faulty video cable was correct. He was sure it was the video cable, but mentioned that it might also be the circuit board right next to it marked "High Voltage."
The monitor to my laptop is acting crazy making it hard to view anything. As a result I watched part of a Charles Shultz cartoon last night. Mostly to practice taking screen shots with my camera. During a commercial break I was both saddened for him but happy for the health of the World, when I realized that Ronald McDonald might be going through a difficult time.
My computer is having some type of display error. This makes it more difficult to use. I put up two new sections in my portfolio, photo stories and photo essays. The pages still need some work. It's the first time I've ever done any web-related work this in depth. I'm still working on it.
The less oil you have, the harder it is to make french fries.
This weekend the Christmas Season has brought a load of tourists into DC. Also, today is the onset of our coldest weather this season. The weathermen all warn us of a weather front of "Canadian Air." (That's when we need to be outside breathing.) There is a chance it might snow by next weekend.
These are two officers from the Fire Department of New York. A firefighter from their station was also a reservist recently killed in Iraq. They were on their way to bury him at Arlington National Cemetery. They asked me if there was a bakery nearby. With no irony intended, I told them Firehook Bakery up 17th St NW was the closest.
This is Ryan, Andy, and Chris in our Theories of Art class early Thursday morning. We have the same photojournalism class later Thursday night. Tonight, me and Andy (among others) headed to the Senate Press Photographers' Christmas Party at the U.S. Capitol Building. We met numerous "numero uno" photographers.
We'll never know who really won.
I just received a copy of Rangefinder Magazine in the mail. There is an article in the magazine that is mainly about my time as a photojournalist in the Marine Corps. It's the first article I've ever had written about me. There are some facts in the article that are slightly inaccurate [aircraft classification, technical details, etc.] and the writing seems to embellish because of the amount of time it compresses. Overall, the article is honest and the pictures look great in the online article and even better in the magazine.
Ed is an inspector for Verizon. What I thought were sewers beneath G St, actually resembled a snake pit. Hundreds and thousands of cables and conduits carrying electric and information are packed under the streets. When the manhole cover is lifted there is only enough of a narrow path for Ed to climb through while inspecting subterranean communication lines.
. . .
Homeless from Tokyo
This is Deru, a Japanese immigrant whose hometown is about 30 minutes north of Tokyo. He can't speak English well at all, maybe a few words. This may or may not be one of the reasons he sits on the bench and talks to himself.
A man wears a tee-shirt around his head while he sweeps asphalt debris at a construction site under Scott Circle.
I took this picture of Chad yesterday. He was in Goldie's Italian near 17th and G St NW, drinking a pitcher of India Pale Ale. He said the pitcher cost him a mere $6.
Rick and his roommates had a party tonight. It seemed to split itself into musical genres. I ended up in the room of talking. This is Jamie and Rick flexing to show the strength of the University of Florida's Gator Football Program. Florida is also their alma mater. This may be the orchestration of some type of secret alumni handshake.
"Enjoy the sun-shiny day my special friend," rings from his cart after every purchase, even if it's raining. Najeeb runs the cart on the north side of 17th and Pennsylvania Ave NW, by the White House. He's from Kandahar, Afghanistan. (I knew that for a while.) Today I was walking by and was surprised to find that my friend Najeeb was not yet a United States citizen. His reading material, "Practice for the U.S. Citizenship and Legalization of Status Test," gave it away. He has lived in the DC area for nearly fourteen years, and has been providing his sidewalk vending service for twelve years. "In this very same spot," he said. He left Kandahar after high school because of the fighting and violence caused by the "Soviet Disruption." Najeeb told me, "I like working here and the people are like family."
These cops didn't want me to take this picture. That would be like me asking them to waive my ticket after a high-speed chase. For the record, several years ago I locked me and my mom out of a running rental car in the parking lot of a hot dog shop. Who bailed me out? The cops.