how sad is this?
that i'm sitting here, writing about how much i miss you, how much everything we had meant to me, how much i still love you.
that you're out there, and not even a thought of me probably crosses your mind.
i think of you.
every day.
and i pray that something will bring us back together.
i pray everyday.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
3//52
On Monday last, my sister and I ventured out into the cold woods behind my aunt's house in search for a rumored "frog pond," that we had heard about, and even seen on google maps, but had remained elusive for all the years we have been recreating in the area. A few minutes of exploration led to a grass road, one which I had found a few years ago, but didn't follow, and never paid any attention to. This led over some downed trees and swampy areas (even though the previous day's temperatures were in the single digits), and eventually to the large pond, which was frozen rather solid. We then returned later on with accompaniment, and played some 'hockey' with tree limbs and a broken rock. Hopefully the months to come will bring good times at this no locale.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
2//52
an out take from the first points east photo shoot, which took place at sunset in some very cold weather. joe dunham was gracious enough to brave the cold with our BRAND NEW T-SHIRTS to model with some interesting and unique poses. this weeks photo is coming a little early, but seeing as i will not be home on saturday, now is a better time than ever.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
1/52
project 365 was a bit too much of an undertaking for me. it became a chore before too long, and i feel like it has made me a worse photographer, and i now have to start from the bottom to bring back any artistic feel that i had before. digital is something i don't care for much anymore, as i feel that every picture i edit feels so fake and boring, and film provides me with the exact feel and colors i want, even when i have no idea what they may look like.
project 52, that is, a photo for every week of the year, seems like such a more inviting challenge, one that i hope i can succeed in. i'll admit it's way easier to take ONE photo a week as opposed to one a day, and then remembering what you did. 365 would've been awesome to look back on, but there's only so many time you can scramble around at 11:59 trying to finding something to photograph before you settle for the fridge with some tacky magnets on it. i don't find that appealing.
so here's to project 52 being something i can undertake with motivation and drive, and will make me a decent photographer again.
this week was actually rather eventful, but i just failed to take photos of anything. a lot of it was revolved around screen printing for my new company and a lot of it was also lounging around doing nothing. this particular scene was from the house of pieces belated ugly sweater christmas party, where a good time was had by all.
project 52, that is, a photo for every week of the year, seems like such a more inviting challenge, one that i hope i can succeed in. i'll admit it's way easier to take ONE photo a week as opposed to one a day, and then remembering what you did. 365 would've been awesome to look back on, but there's only so many time you can scramble around at 11:59 trying to finding something to photograph before you settle for the fridge with some tacky magnets on it. i don't find that appealing.
so here's to project 52 being something i can undertake with motivation and drive, and will make me a decent photographer again.
this week was actually rather eventful, but i just failed to take photos of anything. a lot of it was revolved around screen printing for my new company and a lot of it was also lounging around doing nothing. this particular scene was from the house of pieces belated ugly sweater christmas party, where a good time was had by all.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Faces I
Oh, the glorious days of summer. There's nothing better than a Saturday afternoon at the beach, especially when it's hot, and ESPECIALLY when there's waves breaking. This summer gave us a lot of decent surf (not as good as last summers...) as well as some gnarly shore break which begged to be surfed using your body. I can safely say that I never body surfed as much as I did this summer, nor did I ever enjoy it as much. So many days, it was just perfect conditions for it in the swim zone. Waist deep with 3 foot breakers; big to duck under and even bigger to drop in on. I have to say that I had more fun body surfing than I did regular surfing (blasphemous!). I did some research online and came across a nifty little creation: the handplane. Basically, a miniature surfboard for your hand. After that peaked my curiosity, I decided to go ahead and build my own. I didn't know what to expect, but the first wave I caught with one, I was instantly hooked. I only discovered these in late summer (after this picture was taken), but I built as many as I could, as tried to get as many people hooked as possible. So many stoke-filled sessions were had with the new handplanes, and it really made the summer worthwhile, at least surfing wise. If you've never tried it, do it. You will never regret the feeling it gives one.
Recently, I started making them myself to sell. If you're interested on buying a tool that is the best kept secret for ocean enjoyment, then simply copy and paste this link, and boom, you're set. Handmade by me, with care, for you.
http://www.etsy.com/listing/83961482/body-surfing-hand-plane
Shot with a Lomography Fisheye in the Submarine housing, using expired Fuji News Pro 100, cross processed.
Recently, I started making them myself to sell. If you're interested on buying a tool that is the best kept secret for ocean enjoyment, then simply copy and paste this link, and boom, you're set. Handmade by me, with care, for you.
http://www.etsy.com/listing/83961482/body-surfing-hand-plane
Shot with a Lomography Fisheye in the Submarine housing, using expired Fuji News Pro 100, cross processed.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Untitled
It's been a really long time since I posted anything on this blog. I don't know what the delay was really. Definitely just my laziness. Nothing really good has happened in the past months that's gotten me out of a deep rut that I've been in for good. It's at a point where I don't know if I can ever recover from what happened. Things just seem to get worse and worse; something that I didn't think was possible. I know they say 'things have to get worse before they can get better.' If I'm not at the worst yet, I really don't want to know what that is.
On a lighter note, on August 13th, my friends Ryan, Joe and I rode our bikes out to Montauk Point from our houses in Lindenhurst, a 100 mile journey that took us 12 hours and 23 minutes (timed pretty accurately). It was a ridiculous experience, which I promise to post a full story on in the near future (there's a word document that keeps getting added too as I remember more and more). It was the first I REALLY got to experience eastern Long Island, and it made me fall in love with the place. After our perilous journey, we bunked at my friend Kelly's house (life saver!) and rested our weary legs. The next day, we wanted to go see the light house, even if it was raining like crazy. After a good breakfast, we navigated cross some pretty risky rocks to stare out at the Atlantic for a while. This is Joe, who rode his mom's bike the entire way. His bike was stuck in 1st gear for the journey. Kudos. Shot on a Pentax K-1000 with expired Fuji News Pro, then cross processed.
On a lighter note, on August 13th, my friends Ryan, Joe and I rode our bikes out to Montauk Point from our houses in Lindenhurst, a 100 mile journey that took us 12 hours and 23 minutes (timed pretty accurately). It was a ridiculous experience, which I promise to post a full story on in the near future (there's a word document that keeps getting added too as I remember more and more). It was the first I REALLY got to experience eastern Long Island, and it made me fall in love with the place. After our perilous journey, we bunked at my friend Kelly's house (life saver!) and rested our weary legs. The next day, we wanted to go see the light house, even if it was raining like crazy. After a good breakfast, we navigated cross some pretty risky rocks to stare out at the Atlantic for a while. This is Joe, who rode his mom's bike the entire way. His bike was stuck in 1st gear for the journey. Kudos. Shot on a Pentax K-1000 with expired Fuji News Pro, then cross processed.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Your Standard Travel Blog Post, I
I've been traveling for quite some time now, and I never really thought about writing down my accounts. I mean, I have seen lots of things. Granted, I never left the continental United States (except to go to Canada once to snowboard), but I have been to over 30 states, and after a while, the experiences overlap each other, and it's hard to discern what's what. So, why not write it down, for you to enjoy and for me to remember?
Every year it's a new state. It became my mothers goal to reach all 50 (God only knows when she got that idea. I got dragged into this, whether I wanted to or no), and I can safely say that we're doing well as of now. I'm currently in Tennessee, in the "business center" of a Wingate Hotel, typing furiously as I try to escape from my family and myself. Kind of 'safety in writing' I suppose. (To me, my writing has drastically improved over the past few months, but that's neither here nor there with this post.) It's only day 3 of this vacation, and I'm already having a hard time remembering everything that we did. Some God-awfully early flight from LaGuardia, followed by some Southern Estates, a tour of Jack Daniels, a severe traffic jam, and some nice touristy attractions round out this handful of days. But that's not what really stands out to me. It's the quiet moments that I really remember, and it was one of those moments 2 nights ago that made me want to write this. I had just done a few laps in the pool, and laid on a chaise lounge to dry off before I went inside. There was one star out (or maybe it was a planet...) and I just kinda stared at it for a while, thinking back on everything I've seen. It really reminded me of a moment I had back in Las Vegas (which was... I don't know how many years ago) where I was swimming all by myself, and I can remember looking over at the strip and seeing the light from the Luxor Casino sending a beam into space. Thinking back on it now, it kind of depresses me. I'm not sure why, but it does. There was countless other memories going through my head, all of which I wanted to write down, all of which have now slipped from my mind.
I'm not sure of the direction I'm trying to take this post, but I just wanted to kind of nail home an idea to myself: the world is huge. No matter how much you see, there's always more out there. Whenever I'm with my family on vacation and I catch myself groaning at walking an extra half mile to go see another lookout, I say to myself in the back of my head "do it, 'cause you'll regret it if you don't." And then I usually find myself walking that extra distance, even though I know it's something I've already seen. However, whatever view I take in, I know I'll take that moment with me forever, even if I forget it over the next week or two. It's the little things that always count, and it's always the little things I try to capture. So, wherever you go, whenever you go, and with whomever go with, always go a little further, and delve a little deeper. Because it's those experiences that you'll remember the most. Trust me.
Today, I went to Rock City, Incline Railway, Point Park Battlefield and Ruby Falls, 3 of which are semi-cheesy local tourist attractions. Ruby Falls was an underground waterfall, surrounded by limestone caves, most of which are now destroyed because of tourists greedily running their hands along every surface they could touch. Every crystal clear pool was filled with pocket change and random little scraps of garbage, and just the sight of it made me sick. I've seen some amazing caves across the states (not going to get into naming them, but I've seen at least 10), and none of them came close to the disgrace I saw at Ruby. However, I took the experience with a reverence, because I knew being there was special, both to my mother and to me. It's hard to try to organize everybody to get together for two weeks and fly off to some state (minus my father. He stays home nowadays) and see whatever we can. And today, when we were all fighting, hundreds of feet below the surface of the earth, this waterfall in the middle of nowhere kind of silenced us, and we just stood there smiling at the sight of it. We walked around the back of it, and this intense wind just blew your hair back and the water from the falls created a mist around everything. I remember staring up at it, and saying to myself "damn." That was it. No other words really did it justice. And as everyone was getting ready to leave, I went back behind the falls, one more time, because I knew it would be special. When I was back there, the lights started to dim, and the group started to leave. I looked up one more time and took a picture, running to catch up and not be left behind. I took with me the one thing I always want to take when I go to other places. That one special memory, that I'll have for years to come. And it was totally worth it.
That's what everybody should do. Next time you're out, make yourself see that one extra thing, push farther, explore more. It's those things that will make you realize how big this planet is, and it's those experiences that will shape you into the person you'll be in the future. You can thank me later.
Every year it's a new state. It became my mothers goal to reach all 50 (God only knows when she got that idea. I got dragged into this, whether I wanted to or no), and I can safely say that we're doing well as of now. I'm currently in Tennessee, in the "business center" of a Wingate Hotel, typing furiously as I try to escape from my family and myself. Kind of 'safety in writing' I suppose. (To me, my writing has drastically improved over the past few months, but that's neither here nor there with this post.) It's only day 3 of this vacation, and I'm already having a hard time remembering everything that we did. Some God-awfully early flight from LaGuardia, followed by some Southern Estates, a tour of Jack Daniels, a severe traffic jam, and some nice touristy attractions round out this handful of days. But that's not what really stands out to me. It's the quiet moments that I really remember, and it was one of those moments 2 nights ago that made me want to write this. I had just done a few laps in the pool, and laid on a chaise lounge to dry off before I went inside. There was one star out (or maybe it was a planet...) and I just kinda stared at it for a while, thinking back on everything I've seen. It really reminded me of a moment I had back in Las Vegas (which was... I don't know how many years ago) where I was swimming all by myself, and I can remember looking over at the strip and seeing the light from the Luxor Casino sending a beam into space. Thinking back on it now, it kind of depresses me. I'm not sure why, but it does. There was countless other memories going through my head, all of which I wanted to write down, all of which have now slipped from my mind.
I'm not sure of the direction I'm trying to take this post, but I just wanted to kind of nail home an idea to myself: the world is huge. No matter how much you see, there's always more out there. Whenever I'm with my family on vacation and I catch myself groaning at walking an extra half mile to go see another lookout, I say to myself in the back of my head "do it, 'cause you'll regret it if you don't." And then I usually find myself walking that extra distance, even though I know it's something I've already seen. However, whatever view I take in, I know I'll take that moment with me forever, even if I forget it over the next week or two. It's the little things that always count, and it's always the little things I try to capture. So, wherever you go, whenever you go, and with whomever go with, always go a little further, and delve a little deeper. Because it's those experiences that you'll remember the most. Trust me.
Today, I went to Rock City, Incline Railway, Point Park Battlefield and Ruby Falls, 3 of which are semi-cheesy local tourist attractions. Ruby Falls was an underground waterfall, surrounded by limestone caves, most of which are now destroyed because of tourists greedily running their hands along every surface they could touch. Every crystal clear pool was filled with pocket change and random little scraps of garbage, and just the sight of it made me sick. I've seen some amazing caves across the states (not going to get into naming them, but I've seen at least 10), and none of them came close to the disgrace I saw at Ruby. However, I took the experience with a reverence, because I knew being there was special, both to my mother and to me. It's hard to try to organize everybody to get together for two weeks and fly off to some state (minus my father. He stays home nowadays) and see whatever we can. And today, when we were all fighting, hundreds of feet below the surface of the earth, this waterfall in the middle of nowhere kind of silenced us, and we just stood there smiling at the sight of it. We walked around the back of it, and this intense wind just blew your hair back and the water from the falls created a mist around everything. I remember staring up at it, and saying to myself "damn." That was it. No other words really did it justice. And as everyone was getting ready to leave, I went back behind the falls, one more time, because I knew it would be special. When I was back there, the lights started to dim, and the group started to leave. I looked up one more time and took a picture, running to catch up and not be left behind. I took with me the one thing I always want to take when I go to other places. That one special memory, that I'll have for years to come. And it was totally worth it.
That's what everybody should do. Next time you're out, make yourself see that one extra thing, push farther, explore more. It's those things that will make you realize how big this planet is, and it's those experiences that will shape you into the person you'll be in the future. You can thank me later.
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