My first day as a Sagebrusher.

I thought I'd tell a story tonight. We were in the old offices at the time. And I was brand new to campus. I had turned in a disk with photos for review. (That was something you did back in the day.) And for my first assignment I met Amy Beck at the office. The first thing she asked me was if I'd ever used a digital SLR before.

Funny story. I lied. I had never used one in my life. I had used a film SLR before but never a DSLR. So here I was, expensive camera in hand, and I really didn't know how to use it. It wasn't too bad. Film and digital are pretty similar. So I took what I knew about digital photography with my hybrid camera and made some assumptions based on my film SLR experience and I came up with a somewhat decent range of use for the camera in my hand.

Oh faking it like only Journalists can.

Fun story. Hope you enjoyed.

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.

Entirely random update. (There are weenies)

As I said, random things today. Pictures from the new Math and Science center, the Weeniemobile, campaign material, stuff I did for a blog someone is making, and a random picture from the business building.

Three projects.

Las Vegas
If you read this blog you might remember my post on Las Vegas personified. Well I'm making that a reality. Photo collage of things quintessentially Las Vegas tiled to do this kind of a thing. I hope to make a statement about my hometown that's neither positive nor negative simply real.

Moments
I'm currently collecting moments. These moments don't need to be huge and earth changing, in fact the smaller the better. These moments should fit into this general description:

Though the moment is abysmally small.
and insignificant
I found it lying it in my mind.
and my heart
It is still there today.

perhaps some moment that nags at you even though it really shouldn't. A lost teddy bear, a missed kiss, anything. Once I have these moments collected I'll try to make something.

Objects
This is a highly personal piece having to do with physical possessions. Kind of a case for materialism.

Bordertown.

I and most of my suite mates went on an exploration a while ago. We like to call ourselves the manfamly. I'm going to miss these guys next semester.

We drove until we hit Bordertown. And we were surprised to find a national forest. Enjoy.

UNR protest against the budget cuts

I recently went to the UNR protest against the proposed budget cuts to higher education in Carson City. These are some of the photos I brought back.

Las Vegas, a portrait

So. I want to assemble a picture of Las Vegas that doesn't portray it as the media accepted glittery perfect city. I want to portray it as the old woman with a thousand facelifts and heaped on gaudy jewelry. This is not a bad thing, mind you. Just the truth.

Selling art (For real this time)

So I'm making the first art sale of my life tomorrow. I'm really quite happy.

Victorville

I know I promised I'd have these up earlier, but was anyone really waiting eagerly at their computers? If you were, I'll buy you ice cream. Now onto the photos.

Steven and I drove a few dozen miles out of our way as we headed home this weekend. When we arrived, the sun was hanging low in the sky. It seemed to hold there just long enough for me to find and save these. An entire suburban neighborhood, abandoned. The world has never felt as surreal as it did here. If I were alone I imagine that I'd have gotten lost in thought and forgotten to take photos. Luckily, Steven snapped away and brought me out of it.

The pavement, cracked and crumbling, winds its way through what seems like hundreds of homes. Trees overgrown, now dead, lay on top of some of the buildings. Gently resting on the smashed walls and caved roofs. Dust lifts up behind my footsteps as I walk where green grass once grew. Hundreds of homes, hundreds of lives. This is what it must feel like to be the last man alive.

Teaser for Tomorrow

That's right. This is a teaser blog for tomorrow's entry. I went to California this weekend. And at the end, during our drive home, we stopped at an abandoned suburban neighborhood in Victorville California. An entire neaghborgood abandoned, vacant, ruined. Remnants.