Dusk, or ruminations on transition states.

There is something about dusk. The world slipping into darkness. My senses seem heightened. Perhaps it's a remnant of an instinct. 'Pay attention self, the night, and the dangers associated with it, is rapidly approaching.' Shadows are deeper than they will be even in the dead of night. Everything seems quieter. Sounds come in singularities. The trees tremble, and when they've said their piece the leaves will rustle. In fact I've noticed that there are less people out at dusk. Something disconcerting about the time I guess.

But perhaps it isn't instinct. Perhaps it's a fascination with transitory states. The 'in between'. The process rather than the result for the artist. The race rather than the finish. Young adulthood. The reporting. The climb. And, according to Stephen King, the story. Between the definites. Beyond the understood. In a word, Dusk.

Old Habits...

Old habits never really die. They just sit around and collect dust like so many forgotten keepsakes. And you guys know my affinity for dusty things. So here is the beginning of a revival of my Behind Doors series.

Behind Doors: Into the Darkness

Instead of tantalizing glimpses of what may or may not be a beautiful adventure. This is an exploration of the adventure itself. You may remember the Virginia Street Gym Tunnels photo. Well, my friends, here's the interior. Good job not exploring it yourself.

Question.

A prize for the person that can find the pholosophy/religion/belief structure/whatever that combines the following principles/ideas:

- An ultimate relative point where all things become objective and thus knowable (not nessicarily known though).
- The cyclical nature of all things.
- Collective unconscious.

My New Fraternity

So, as I told you followers of me, I have joined a fraternity. I am (or will be soon) an associate member (what is traditionally termed a "pledge") of Pi Kappa Phi.

I went out camping this weekend with a group and was the only associate member there. That was surprisingly not very awkward. They've taken me in in a way I never really would have expected. I already feel like I could call each of them a friend.

When leaving for our trip I thought to myself that I wasn't going to bring a camera or take pictures because it would distract me from getting to know people. That was a stupid idea. I found out pretty quickly that I use a camera to evaluate situations. It's actually become so much of a part of me that how I capture a group or event is so closely linked with my understanding of the group or event that I'm at a strange loss without that device. (That's not to say I would have shut down socially without a camera of course.)

And I was lucky enough to find someone (Danny) willing to surrender a camera to me. Here is a sample of what I captured:

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.)

Words and an image.

I have found recently that my photographic philosophies are being solidified. I had previously crafted photographs because of some unspoken understanding of these philosophies. Now I tend to have real concrete words to describe the reasonings for things.

I'm starting to think I want to teach photography. Because from what I hear, a lot of things that I find important are being overlooked and flat out forgotten. With film quickly being augmented from the art so are a lot of the practices and beliefs that come with it. Someone, actually a lot of someones need to preserve these traditions. One thing that I fear greatly is the "shoot till it looks good" mentality that comes without a film background.

I could go on for hours about my philosophies about photography, but I won't. I'll simply leave you with a pretty rectangle. I have seen this photo, well the idea of the photo in my mind, many times. Ryan playing his guitar in his room. I finally decided to snatch the moment. And here it is.



Three quotes for you tonight as well:

"Go then, there are other worlds than these"
-The Gunslinger (Dark Tower I)
"Silently reflection turns my world to stone"
-The Killers "Tranquilize"
"And I am a master of this nothing place"
-The Smashing Pumpkins "The Beginning is the End is the Beginning"

Ghosts on the net.

What would happen to my Blogger, Myspace, Facebook, Twitter, Flickr, Youtube, and etc. accounts if I were to die tomorrow? Would they live on as a ghost on the net?

It's an interesting idea. Everything would continue on existing after my death like a carnival ride crafted by a dead man. Pages would load. Slide shows would play. Words would continue to exist with my thoughts and emotions. It's interesting to think of a ghost this way. Just as a profile page still exists after the host dies, so does a ghost. The page doesn't know that it's dead.

And is a page in some small way still the person who made it? If it still contains emotion in its texts and photos, does it not still retain some small part of the individual who made it?

Is this why profile sites are so popular? A natural instinct not only to be remembered by minds that will also die, but to leave a permanent mark on something. Just something to think about.

Oh my god. Look here.

"Hey!!!!my name is Haley and i love life...!" She died yesterday.

I have artwork on display.

I had absolutely no idea, but apparently I am displaying artwork. The front door gallery now holds my five prints on pedestals. So if you live here or are in town, check it out. The gallery is located just as you walk in the main entrance of the Church Fine Arts building on campus. I'll post pictures of... my pictures on display tomorrow.

Post on photojournalism.

If I was ever asked to define why I do photojournalism in the simplest format I could, my response would be this photo:



Put simply, that is why I do this job.

My philosophy on photojournalism is abstract, and in some places incomplete. But what I do believe is that photojournalism is about taking The Picture. Capital letters, yes. In every moment, at every event, during every single rally, race, game, protest, disaster, birthday, there is an image. It's waiting to be discovered, and it defines everything that the event is. There is a photo, that when the shutter closes, you know is The Picture. And other shots are simply additive.

I also believe that photojournalists create moments for those that are not there. This may seem like a simple idea, perhaps even an obvious one. Those who were there may enjoy the novelty of seeing pictures of an event they were a part of, but the true audience is those people who were not a part of it. The task of a photojournalist is to immerse the viewer in the event, and to prove to the viewer that it was important. In order to do this a photographer must sometimes figuratively, and sometiles literally take a step back from the subject. This is not to say that The Picture isn't a close up of a discarded rose at a vigil, nor is it to say that a wide angle photo of the masses of people holding candles is The Photo. But simply that the photographer cannot know one way or the other unless a step is taken to see the event from the outside.

As a photojournalist I see it as my charge to find The Picture for every event I encounter. And, indeed, to define the world for those who are not here: those not at the event, and on a broader scale those who are yet to come.

This week in Photos (SixPointOne)

The origin of life.

Mankind is an infinitely complex species. Our minds are great labyrinths of which we know very little. Our bodies are extensions of this complex grouping of matter. Our bodies exist so cohesively with the mind that we see ourselves as what has been placed outside of ourselves, our faces, our clothes. My thoughts race through neural pathways to language centers who translate these thoughts, which send signals to my fingers, who then precisely tap out a rhythm of code that is then received by other humans to read.

What drives the mind? Where is that life spark? How is it possible that after a big bang occurred, random molecules came together to form the universe as we know it? How can an infinitely long string of naturally occurring coincidences lead to free choice? It can't. And that is my only hope for god.

Two opposing theories.

Bang. "Let there be light."
The universe exists. "darkness was upon the face of the deep"

Particles coalesce into atoms and stars. "Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters"

Planets form around stars. "Let the waters under the heavens be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear."

These planets rotate around their stars. "Let there be lights in the firmament of the heavens to separate the day from the night"

Life is born in the seas. "Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures"
Life moves to land. "Let the earth bring forth living creatures according to their kinds; cattle and creeping things and beasts of the earth according to their kinds."

Man is born. "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth."

Matter is now sentient, able to make independent decisions. "God finished his work which he had done, and he rested"

One day. the stories of creation will merge as one. In all great arguments, compromise has always won. Nature vs nurture. Virginia plan. string theory. There are many. Religion and science are approaching one another ever slowly.

Otherworlds.

Why is it I'm so obsessed with things being different than they already are? Whether I'm watching a movie and losing myself in the world it opens up to me, or reading a book about an Otherworld of some sort. Why is the theme of my blog is based on the possibilities just beyond me? Why do I focus so much of my intellect on the fourth dimension, outer space, a land where the things we prove not to exist flee to? Why is my life centered on making this world more Just, more beautiful.

Perhaps it's not all the time though. There is also a side of me that clings to the now and here. The photos I take of the world are an attempt to preserve and perpetuate the perfect moments before me. For they do exist in countless numbers.

There is some link between my love of fantasy and my love of real life.



It's funny when you answer your own questions. You type something out and then suddenly realize the simple truth is. That's the thing with all great questions. Their answers are always simple. I was once told by a brilliant professor that if the answer to your question isn't easily explained, it's probably the wrong answer.

I search for the fantasy, the mystery, the feelings of serenity that exist in the world. And when I can't find them I manufacture them in my mind.


I want so very much for my life to be one long moment in a field of wispy green grass. Just cool enough for a coat. The treeline in the distance, reaching for the sky. Anyone I care about simply existing together and talking for the sake of talking. We don't live in houses, we don't need to buy or sell, or work, or fear. the shade of the tree, and the stories of our imaginations are all we need.


It must be 4. I never could get the hang of late night epiphanies.

Cars.

On the way to the DMV, I passed a lot where I noticed some cars. I went in and got an ID card, and on my way back I investigated the lot. What I found was terrifying. I wasn't expecting to see the twisted metal of some of the cars. Some of the cars were so jagged and splintered, it seemed as if they had been turned inside out. It didn't seem like anyone could have made it out of those cars alive. They probably didn't. And that's what scared me most.

When death is staring you in the face, the reality of it comes down on you like the weight of the world.