Certain themes in my work come to my attention as I comb through the archives. Sometimes I realize things like, "Huh. I take a lot of pictures out of the windows of moving things." So then I gather them all together and look at what I've got. This entry showcases some of a group of pics I'm working on recently.
I'm not always piloting these machines, in fact, I really do try and be as safe as possible while still being true to the artists' creedo, "Nothing, not even the safety of innocent bystanders, is more important than expressing my personal vision that teeters on that sublime edge between genius and, uh, super-genius."
I love that creedo. Also, no horses were hurt in the creation of this blog entry.
"Bridges of Whatever County Philadelphia is in"
I shot this, obviously, while hanging on to the fuselage of a plane as it was about to abort it's first landing attempt in Philadelphia (the second attempt was successful! Yay!). I do like shooting out of an airplane's window for a couple of reasons. One of course is that I like to use my unapproved electronic device at times when I'm not supposed to be using it. It helps me tap into my inner rebel to not follow the rules on purpose. Hey, I'm smashing the state from the inside one tiny little brick at a time. The second reason is that it still tickles me to be hurtling through the sky in an aluminum tube with a few jets strapped to it hoping to arrive alive. In that last sentence feel free to replace "tickles" with "scares the ever-lovin' crap out of". Taking pictures out of the window helps to distract me from being terrified.
Red Boathouse, Lake Julia.
I went to Minnesota last month to see some dear friends. As we tend to do as a group we had a very aggressive good time which had a profound effect on both my mental and physical state. This pic was snapped (pressed?) from a moving boat. As in the case of shooting from the airplane window to keep myself from freaking out, I was shooting from the boat to keep myself from throwing up and befouling the pristine waters of Lake Julia one of 10,000 or so lakes/ponds that clutter the otherwise lovely landscape of this most friendly state. It worked.
Another Motherscratchin' Water Tower, MN.
Looking back at my photos from Minnesota I realized I had a
zillion lot of shots of water towers. It got me thinking: does Minnesota have more than it's fair share or can you just see them all at the same time because it's so darn flat out there? It would seem to me that a state that claims to have so many damn lakes and other waterways should have less need of water towers. This, however, was not the case. Oh Minnesota! You have confounded me yet again! This one was shot out of the right-hand (passenger) side of the car I was traveling in at what I conservatively estimate to be 70mph. Sometimes you compose a shot for minutes at a time and you are still left wanting. Sometimes you stick your camera up and press the shutter release button and you get lucky.
Red Light Motorcycle Man, Cambridge, MA.
Ok. I was driving, or at least in the driving position, when I took this picture. I just liked how everything lined up so I felt compelled to not deny the world yet another slice of my vision. My motorcycle riding friends had a lot of constructive criticism for this guy ranging from the practical and helpful (Riding in the rain can be fun but keep it under 55...) to the snarky and catty (He's not in gear at a red-light...he looks like a shlub.) It did take him a beat or two to get going once the light turned green. I appreciated his gear-finding pause more than the guy behind me, Mr. Quick Horn, because it allowed me more time to gaze lovingly at the beautiful work I had just created using only my brain and my phone. I'm heavily into simplicity.
Gas station. Night. Rain. Somerville, MA.
Again from the passenger side, this is another example of press and pray. Sometimes you get a blur that looks like a blur. At other times you get a blur that, once you tell people what it is, it becomes clear that you are not only a genius but something of an expert in blur-analysis. This is also an example of a work of art with an obtuse title that may have nothing at all to do with what the subject of the image is. That always drove me crazy until I started giving my images titles. Now it makes me smile smugly.
I'll end with another rainy, night shot yet again taken as a passenger in a moving car. Many thanks to my drivers, my camera and my big, beautiful brain...and of course you dear reader without whom this would be a big exercise in self uh congratulation. You are out there right? RIGHT?!?
Rainy Night Tunnel, Boston.
The fact that this one looks like a painting of the Leroy Neiman school really tickles me to no end. And really, thanks for reading/looking. As always clicking on the pics makes them bigger. Go on, no one's looking. Do it.