(07/365)

My new boots arrived. The last of my Christmas presents. The first day of new adventures. OKOK, that managed to sound both generic and pretentious at the same time.

The nice thing about the Nikon system is that you can toss lenses manufactured back in the late 60s onto a 21st century digital slr. In this case, we’re talking a 55mm Micro-Nikkor on extended loan from my friend Dave. On the D50, no, there’s no metering with this particular lens, but that isn’t too big of a deal when what you’re shooting doesn’t move, and you’ve got a screen sitting there showing exactly how the photo came out.

I chose the first shot for project365 because, narratively, it represented progress. New boots. But the other pics from my little product shoot do better to show off the coolness of a macro lens. With the clarity and magnification of this glass you can really see sharply the texture of my old boots: the fraying laces and tiny stitching, the worn black leather and the glinting metal eyelets.

As an aside, the key to getting hits on Flickr (besides, you know, being good at photography, and developing a social network) is tagging, tagging, tagging. And especially tagging for subcultures or interests or maybe sometimes you could say fetishes. I think these photos were up for 15 seconds before I was invited to join the Dr. Martens group. And though no one has ever left a comment, this pic of Tickle Me Elmo is one of my all time most viewed. Just because he’s wearing a ball gag…

(6/365)

One of the interesting things about digital photography is the artistic experimentation it affords, both because of the lack of processing cost, and because of the instant feedback digital cameras provide.

In this instance, I wanted to make an image that could only exist on a digital image sensor. Pure binary light, as it were, and something I wouldn’t do with film. These are actually Christmas lights in the backyard. Decorative lights around the new pool that we’ve decided to leave there year round.

The photo in no way conveys it, but it was dark and freezing cold when I went out to shoot this. I defocused on purpose, and exposed to blow out the image sensor. The resulting images looked, to me, like astronomical phenomena, exploding frictionless nebulae, or like strange microbes swimming through luminescent medium.

(5/365)

Sharp exposure and wonky angle thanks to the Gorillapod I got for Christmas.

This photo was taken the first day (or night) that I returned to college. Winter intersession at Mt. SAC. And though I’m sure I had a lot to say when I first shot it, that moment has now receded into the past.

What I can say now is that I’ve felt very different since I went back to school. I’m optimistic, and–this hard to explain and will sound vague–I have a rekindled interest in things I haven’t thought about in years. These updates, taking photos, fixing the site, these are all small examples.

Partly it is perhaps the mental stimulation, the reactivation of brain centers that have lain dormant too long. I think it is also, though, the sense of actively building towards a future again. As opposed to the terrified scramble back to normality that was last year.

I got As in both my classes, Logic and Microeconomics. That’s two down, 15 or so to go. And then transfer. It’s a plan, and I feel good about it.

(2/365)

I can’t count the number of times I’ve stood here, waiting for a bus to downtown LA, staring at that neon arrow.

On on side of the store is a couple exiting the brightly lit door, drinks in hand, smiling and laughing. Circling around each other and flirting. The other side has a door, too, dark and barred. Overflowing the dumpster, rotting and soggy cardboard forms a talus of trash. The two sides of this building aren’t even in the same universe. But that laughing couple will pass from one to other on the way to their car.

How many times have we all walked through this kind of parking lot to or from a bar, a club, a show? You see the dumpster and boxes and let them slide out of your mind. I can smell it, the mold, the spilled booze, the faint scene of urine, just looking at this picture. A thousand interstitial moments from a thousand late nights. We let those moments slide away. They’re not part of the pictures we’re making in our mind.

In lieu of my non-existent January 1st pic (see below), I’ve decided to  choose my favorite picture from 2008.

My favorite picture.

That I’ve taken.

Which is really hard.

My photographic interests include religious artworks, portraits, candids, party shots, landscapes, architecture, and travel shots.  Friends and family. But I guess when I think about one picture I took that represents the most of those categories, it’s this one:

Jeff as St. Francis

We were in Hawaii–I took a trip with my parents, brother, and sister. My friends Jeff and Cami had coincidentally booked a trip there at the same time. When Jeff & Cami got to Oahu, we met up, and they took me on an awesome adventure around the island. One of the stops was the Byodo-in Buddhist temple, a beautiful replica of a 900 year old temple in Uji, Japan. At the gift shop there you can get food to feed the koi, but Jeff quickly realized the birds flitting around the grounds were also interested. He put some in his hand, and got the birds to feed from his palm. Cami and I both took snapshots, and after this one, I exclaimed, “Jeff, you look like St. Francis!” A tour group coming up behind us laughed in recognition, and one lady said “It’s true! It’s true!”

I love the look of joy on Jeff’s face. This picture reminds me of not just the good times I had with Los Hermanns, but with my family, too, and all the beauty and happiness that filled our time in Hawaii. That sounds like hyperbole, but really, Hawaii is just that great. You feel like a grinning moron trying to explain how wonderful it is there.

If it was just a pretty picture, or a reminder of fun times, there’d be competition. But on a deeper level, this photograph also reminds me of how the symbols of our faith surround us. Even, of course, on the grounds of a Buddhist temple. For that reason, it’s my favorite of 2008.

The idea behind Project 365 is a simple one: 1 photo, every day, for an entire year. This is an idea probably nearly as old as art itself, but still a worthwhile challenge.

You might say that I failed before I even started. Because I didn’t fully become aware of the concept, and especially its Flickr incarnation, until January 2nd, I failed to take a photo on January 1st. The nice thing about screwing up right in the beginning is that there’s nowhere to go but up.

I’ll be documenting my try in this ever-growing Flickr set. I’ll also be making daily posts here, because it gives me something to write about–that’s another goal I have for the year–and very possibly be posting bulletins on Myspace for any of the following reasons (Checkmark those that apply):

• The audience overlap is tiny, or perhaps nonexistent
• Studies have shown that repetition is the key to getting peoples’ attention
• Large amounts of text looks ridiculous on Flickr
• Myspace bulletins are ephemeral
• Photographs are meant to be seen
• No one reads this anymore
• Contrary to my grunge roots, I have developed a need for approval from others
• I’ll never win Her love if She doesn’t see my work
• I like to annoy my friends with self-promoting spam
• Studies have shown that repetition is the key to getting peoples’ attentionÂ
• Other (fill in via comments form)

Anyway, this should be fun! And if you’re reading this and want to try the project yourself, take it from me, it’s never too late! Let me know and I will totally check out your photos!

Listening to your ipod on the subway is great and all, but for us there’s still nothing that beats dropping the top off the car and flying down the freeway with some White Zombie cranked to 11. That’s why we were so intrigued when we saw (thrice named) Steve Luke Hanson’s series of rush hour photos.

Daytime joyriding has almost become an oxymoron, but in Hanson’s photos even the 405 at 5pm is blissfully free of traffic. With a tripod and a grip of neutral density filters, Hanson has revealed the spare forms hidden underneath our daily drive. Some find the pictures eerie; we find ourselves salivating. In our dreams, the imminent Carpocalypse has come, leaving the city’s concrete thoroughfares empty of commuters, minivans, and hippo-like SUVs. We blow our last tank of gas barreling through cloverleaf interchanges, fishtailing across 6 deserted lanes, and jumping ramps over K Rails. In the end we take the 10 to PCH to Malibu. On a deserted cliffside we lay down our last bit of tire tread and sail right off the edge, just like the Pixies song.

At this point things get hazy. Whether we end up flying away ala Grease or drowning like A Star is Born must depend on what we were eating. But you don’t have to share our admittedly anti-social gasoline-drunk dreams to appreciate Hanson’s photos. Check them out, at least, to see what things will look like after post-Peak Oil has turned the 101 into the world’s largest skate park.

Photo by (of course) Steve Hanson

Originally published on LAist

Not everything sucks. Not even most things, I would say.

My sister’s fiance, Juan, had a birthday last week; we threw a party. A Pirate Party.

My sister hired a DJ; I bought a keg. We put ye old word out. Friends and family arrived. Drinking, singing, and dancing ensued.

A few lovely ladies took it upon themselves to set the night on fire.

Adorable kids came. We had a Pinata and a bounce house.

A bounce house for the kids.

My parents presided over everything with the good humor befitting their noble status.

And even posed for pictures with their outlaw children.

The girlfriend was less graceful. She showed up hours late, wearing no costume, yelled at the DJ, hugged someone else first, never danced, and stayed inside most of the night listening to her own music and talking to a handful of friends.

Juan called her out on it.

So did his back up singer. Between the three of us, we got her to put on a pirate hat.

She’s so cute when she gives in!

Eventually, the party had to wrap up. I think they all left happy.

But what about me, huh? Wasn’t someone gonna take my picture?

Sigh. Those tongue operated cameras just don’t focus well in low light. Maybe if she’d gotten a little closer.

Everything and more’s on Flickr, and taken by me, except the bounce house photos. Those are Cami and Sheila’s.

And headed out, at midnight, to take a self-portrait. I listened to In Utero, and took a few shots.

This picture was with a flash and my dad’s point and shoot digital camera. The USPS jacket I was wearing had reflective safety banding on the sleeves and around the chest design, which created the halo and aura effect.

This one is on film. The freeway lights bleed through me because of the time I spent walking to and from the camera.

The freeway lights bleed through me because I feel like I’m hardly here.