Today I walked down to the Winter Democratic National Convention at the Washington Hilton to meet with the Vets for Peace. When I arrived Dean was speaking to a room full of cameras. I had a hard time finding the veterans I had come looking for until a man smoking by the door said, "I saw a guy up on the corner with a hat that said Veterans for Peace." I met up with veterans Kevin, Doug, and Ruth. They chose an area of Connecticut Ave with high visibility to bring both the Public and the Democratic National Committee members' attention to their cause. Unexpected attention was recieved from the Reserve Officers' Association of which its members were beginning to gather for their own convention. The signs they held pleaded with Dr. Howard Dean the newly elected Democratic Chair to stop the us of armor piercing depleted uranium munitions. Kevin McCarron, a spokesperson for the Vets for Peace in Washington, D.C. said that being a doctor, Dean should be a standing voice against these weapons whose radiation deformed a young generation of Iraqis born after its use in the first Gulf War.
I have been printing a lot of old negatives from the first year I was in the Marines. I have never seen them in print and I want to try and remember the differences in my photography between now and then. I don't really know what I've come up with as far as an answer to that question yet. But between prints I have a lot of time to stare down the hallway and think about it.
The Uniformed Secret Service seems hard at work lately. This man was being collected at 17th and H Sts NW. After seeming another man being loaded into a cruiser a few blocks down 17th I gathered that this could have been a fight, but who knows. Later one of my instructors, David, was talking about certain aspects of photography, like chance, could be refered to as a kind of magic. I am surprised to say it, but I finally agree with him on something.
The Pope missed Ash Wednesday services because he was feeling ill. I missed Ash Wednesday service with no excuse. I feel a stronger connection with the Pope now though.
On Monday nights I have a class called Non-Darkroom Processes. We are learning to use solvents, acrylic medium, heat, and water to transfer images to plastic, metal, and cloth. People are still situated in the room in a similar way that they would be in a darkroom only the lights are on. Instead of using light to make images we use hair dryers, clothing irons, spoons, and brushes. And just as you might expect, two students at the rear of the class discuss their dreams of one day making T-shirts for a living.
I went to my friends Andrew and Maris's house to watch the Super Bowl. Great close game. The best part was the hot wings and the steaks our friend Paul cooked on the grill. The Super Bowl is the Thanksgiving of sporting events.
I felt uncomfortable getting on the elevator with a woman, while I was carrying all my laundry bags. I got to the laundry room, threw my dirty clothes down, and went to the change machine -- out of order! Later, when I was nearly done I found out that one of the dryers I was using didn't work.
Two sculptors, Adam and Ellen sit in the basement of the Corcoran Gallery discussing an opening at the Arts Club of Washington. I told them I'd see them there, but not before I had something to eat. I went to Goldie's Italian and ordered a slice of pizza. Since it was Friday I decided to get a beer too. It was $3 a glass or $6 a pitcher; I went for economy. When I walked out of Goldie's 15 minutes later it felt like a whole new world. I was lucky to make it to the opening. I remember most Bill Newman's colorful oil paintings. The attention to detail in Newman's paintings is supernatural. Drinking that pitcher so quickly earlier was a supernatural sleeping pill with a side of Tourettes. I fought its effects as well as I could for about 3 hours until I found myself at home sleeping.
A friend of mine, Rick heads to his apartment after night class. He is a photography student from Panama. He is working an internship at the Gannett Publishing/USA Today photo department in McLean, Va. He may ride his bike to and from his classes but I've only ever seen him walking it.
This is Cassie sitting by the color print machine waiting for her print. She is the only other photojournalism student in Mr. Kim Stacy Kirkpatrick's Wednesday night color photography class. Tonight we all spent a lot of time waiting for prints to emerge from the machine. It was my first time using a color enlarger and I made a few simple mistakes. However, I was able to make a good enough print to move to the next assignment by the end of class. I have a good time in class. I remember that having a tangible photographic print is one of the reasons for photography.
