Monday, August 25, 2008

New semester

Ah. The first post of the new semester. I apologize that I don't have more to report. What I will tell you is that you can look forward to a revival of "This Week in Photos". Though I'm not a part of the Sagebrush editorial staff I am indeed going to shoot for them. And if all goes according to the idealistic plan I have in my head, I'll also be shooting for the University itself.

Friday, August 22, 2008

The Department of Homeland Security

Yep, that's right. The United States Department of Homeland Security has taken an interest in yours truly. I was visited only yesterday by a man by the name of Detective B. Voyles. I am supremely interested in the fact that they are interested in me. In fact I wonder how me leaving town looks. Oh the joys of not knowing in you're being watched or if you're just a paranoid of Big Brother.

Time will tell Kiddies! My next adventure is requesting my file from whatever department has it. Huzzah!

Thursday, August 21, 2008


This is a photo I took a while ago. It has more signifigance as time goes on. There are very few of you who will appreciate it, though it's pretty even without the knowledge of the symbolism behind it. I didn't exactly intend the 19 to be there, though some might say I didn't really have any choice in the matter.

What follows is a set of photos I took recently in various places around the valley. They all group together nicely due to similar lighting conditions which I hope helps bring them together a bit.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

I was caught by the police.

I shit you not. I was out exploring the Black Mountain Industrial Center when security evidently thought we were up to no good. They pulled over and told us not to take any pictures of certain buildings. And, indeed, I promised not to.

We left a note on the truck with my phone number and the reason we were there.

Thirty minutes or so later my phone registers a voicemail:
"Hello Daniel, this is Officer Seigel with the Las Vegas metropolitan police Department. We're out here at the industrial park uh, possibly near your Nissan pickup truck and we need to talk to you. You're not in any kinda trouble we just need to make sure nothing uh, odd is going on. So please come back and talk to us, we'll be next to your car. Thank you, bye."

Once we were with the police, the great slew of questions began. Three cruisers and two security vehicles were eventually to show up. Question after question was asked. It was almost like we were hanging out at some points. We made jokes. They made jokes. They told us that they seriously considered that we might be terrorists at one point.

Officer: Do you have any tattoos or piercings?
Me: No.
Officer: You're boring.
*alarm goes off in distance*
Me: We swear to god that's not us.
Officer: *laughs*

In the end I came home with a Slurpee and a good story. the only bad thing is that my dad was awakened because they needed to verify that he knew I had the truck.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Persistent obsession

So, unlike previous obsessions, this one with The West just won't die. I believe it'll be something to add to my admittedly already strange personality. I'm now convinced that I will wear cowboy boots for the rest of my life, they are just too cool.

I'm also of the opinion that photographers are their own kind of gunslinger. I have yet to come up with my own term for it, (cameraslinger sounds dumb, but camslinger shows promise) but it's already working its way into my head. A new breed of photographer. Hell, maybe we'll have camera "holsters". A quick draw also means a quick movement of the fingers to set the ISO and shutter speed. I've even got the term "shoot" on my side on this one. This is actally a good addition to my already growing philosophy in regards to photography. Take the shot once, find that one photo that defines a moment, all that kind of stuff.

I also just finished 3:10 to Yuma. Amazing. Just, stunning. It doesn't help that the main character reminds me of a past coworker (friend?) of mine David Calvert. (Who I just found out holds the first hit on a Google search for his name. This makes me a bit jealous because not only have I not turned up in vain searches on google yet, I don't think "Daniel Clark" is nearly unique enough to me for that to ever happen.)


When there's a thunderstorm warning, my first instinct isn't to stay inside and be safe. It's to call up a friend and head out to the nearest mountain range.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Gunslinger Series

The wind pulled up torrents of dust that swam across the desert expanse before me. The ground was cracked and splintered in all directions. And I got the feeling that the photos I was taking were ones I was meant to take. Ka, fate, or whatever forces you believe in had brought me here, and will probably bring me back.

These images are heavily influenced by the Dark Tower series and a play performed only a handful of times called Shadowland.

Gunslinger Series (working prints)

This is what I have going right now. I'm pretty happy with the series right now, but it's missing one vital shot and a few details in the shots I have are bugging me. (The focus is off in number one. The coat is falling badly in two. And three is missing a little something.) In the end I hope to have 4 pretty pictures. I feel that this series is one that I was born to create. If tomorrow works out everything will be perfect, and I'll have final images ready tomorrow night.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Connecting thread

This post started out with the overall title "Multipost" because I felt these three topics were so different. But, as you can see, I found that they really do have some invisible connecting thread. An idea that sort of exists at the heart of each one. An idea that's not easily expressed.

The House Sleeps

This is the beginning of a series I'm starting about houses that sleep. It's an idea very close to me and I hope it doesn't get stolen. The essential premise is to go from neighborhood to neighborhood and ask the local kids and maybe other residents about which house near them is that house. The one that just feels haunted or otherwise wrong. And maybe 'wrong' isn't the right word. Perhaps sleeping is a more apt word.

Post Party

I recently attended a party. This is how I feel when everything winds down at 4 in the morning and everyone is either asleep or engaged in quiet conversation. It's actually sometimes the best part of any party.

Our Town

I drive a lot now. It's an expensive habit. But the city is so beautiful at night. This town is my home and it has worked its way into my heart such that I never expected. Friends pack up and move out of town or fall ever deeper into the folds of a job or school here and I find myself thinking that this town will be at the heart of everything we do with our lives. It all comes back to what we did and how we were shaped by our town.

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Food Service III

Another update from the workforce. I haven't taken a photo in a few days and I'm having withdrawals. I saw oodles of things at work today I wanted to take a picture of. (Chief among them was a plate of lemons that looked like a smiley face.) But on to the mini stories, only a few short ones.

Songs That Make You Go AAAAHHHHH!!!

So for the first couple of days at work I thought the music selection was great. It kept me going. But on the third day I realized: it was the same 6 or so songs. Again. And again. And again. Just think about listening to THIS (Go directly to 1:26 if you click the link) sixteen fucking times a day. Then select a bunch of other random songs from no earlier era than the 70's and toss them in. Now imagine you're cleaning tables while this playlist is looped. I know, it's like one of the levels of hell.

That One Cup

Why is it that people feel the need to pour all of their remaining drinks into one single cup in the center of their table to the point of overflowing? Is there some deep human need to fill a single cup with as much random fluid as possible?

A Proper Haircut

I apparently have the proper haircut for someone of my age. According to Tarzan. It's true. He was sitting at a table and he called me over to tell me that my haircut is indeed the proper one for a man of my age. He also told me about back in the day when he and his other friends (who all did the original Tarzan howl for radio shows) went out to some cliffs in Mexico to leap into the ocean. I shit you not.

Friday, August 1, 2008


Urban exploration in a nutshell:

"All is silent in the halls of the dead." Eddie heard himself in a falling, fainting voice. "All is forgotten in the stone halls of the dead. Behold the stairways which stand in darkness; behold the rooms of ruin. These are the halls of the dead where spiders spin and the great circuits fall quiet, one by one."
-The Waste Lands (Dark Tower III)

Food Service II

So here I am again, blogging about my job. It's about all I have time to think about lately.


Really short thought here. I make tips which is fantastic. But I'm sitting here with a hundred and twelve dollars in ONES. What the hell am I going to do with that? Every day I come home with a fistful of thirty or so one dollar bills and I can't help but think someones going to mistake me for a stripper one day and ask me what the price is for a "private show".

Sugar Packets

I'm losing track of time. I have no idea how many days I've worked because it all seems to swirl together. I'm also worse at time than I used to be, which is saying something. Give me six watches and put Big Ben in my living room and I still might wonder what time it is. Point being, I keep 8 sugar packets in my pocket when I work. And for every hour that goes by I toss one into the trash. (If I'm really bored I'll start going by the half hour and have half sugar packets). The point here is that if I ever want to know how long I have left I pull out my sugar packets and count them. Oh, three sugar packets to go!

Thick Goo

Ranch, BBQ sauce, coleslaw, mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, relish, gravy, butter, oil, that pink dressing, that orange dressing, A1, honey, cream, syrup... My point is: Why is the human race so fascinated with thick gooey substances?