On Hitting the Button, Not Showing Off, Capturing Moments.

Hi all-

Someone about to take a photo has to answer a fundamental question: is this the moment I want to capture? Because really, even in the age of digital photography and very large memory cards, you only get one chance. Even if it comes out blurry, that was the moment. That's what you got of it, and it is never coming back again. It's a big part of taking the best snapshot, or effectively using the time of a photoshoot. Both are just instants, and even though in some cases you can try again, it's not really the same anymore. I don't need to convince you of this.

It takes judgment. Knowing when to hit that button and commit to something. Maybe not the best photo in the world, but something. I'm learning more and more in music that technique in and to itself is not enough. You can have the best technique in the world, but without the judgement to put it to good use, you are just showing off. You have to trust yourself. Maybe the best photo, or the best drum piece, is kind of handjammed and simple. Minimal and kind of blurry. A little off focus, but really what you needed all along.

-A

On Everyone, Hopping Planes, Art.

Hi all-

We live in a world where everyone can touch everything. Within a day or so, I can hop a plane and be nearly anywhere on Earth. Then, once I'm at the closest airport, a few days of searching might put me in contact with any one out of the 6,000,000,000 people out there. And we all leave a mark. Not just cosmically, but sometimes in very real ways. The lives we affect, the places we change, the bits of ourselves we leave behind. Here we see a little of everyone, all put together in the same place, in Philadelphia. These pieces of art are connected to people, who are connected to each other, so on and so on until everyone has been in or watched a Kevin Bacon film. And here it is for you, and now you are connected to it, and to me. What do we leave behind? Can it all be art? Please?

-A

On Wire, Ego, Law.

Hi all-

There's all sorts of stuff shooting around on these wires these days. I'm just an old fogie for even bringing it up. It's moot. It's last year's news. It's law, like gravity. It's over, old Joe, turn in your badge and gun and go home. But it just keeps nagging me. Not that I think we are getting too advanced. Just that we aren't advanced enough. Is there such a thing as a consistent identity on the wire? Not just an IP address, but something human. Something consistent. We see more and more expression everyday. More than anyone has ever been able to before. Sometimes I just don't want to talk about it anymore. Sometimes I'd rather just totally integrate. Make the wire something not so other. Is it that distance that still lets us keep our human egos? Is the lack of human identity, or its redefinition, the thing that keeps corn fed boys at bay? One thing is for certain, we as humans have an unprecedented opportunity to express ourselves. So much so that it's becoming impossible to be heard. But then again maybe it always was. The wire becomes the world.

-A

On Concrete is Not a Pun, Only One Inch of Sky, And Oh Yeah, Faith

Hi all-

Sometimes the prospect of faith can be daunting. I know that's a really abstract statement, but what can I say besides that's just the rub of it. We are trying to tackle some idea or conception of something we've never seen. Maybe we don't want to see it anyway, worrying about the disappointment our perceptions would be to some notion of Platonic ideal. Ruining what we represent as an object of faith with a mundane reality. Yet people still flock to buildings like the one pictured here. Maybe it's not as abstract as I first thought. Maybe people are afraid of not seeing, not having this concrete noun to pin as the center of faith. I'm not sure either way, I guess it depends on the individual. The real or the ideal. The building or the sky behind it.

-A

On Trash, Walking By, Sitting Down

Hi all-

This was taken outside of an antique store which closed before I ever went in. Here, outside the store, is an antique-looking thing just relaxing on the sidewalk. It has almost become a chair here, inving me to sit down, but I was busy that day, like most days, and didn't see it at the time. That I should just chill. Take it a bit easier. Stop seeing trash as trash, and realize that the antiques inside the store with price tags and the antiques outside the store are really the same thing. What you pay for is the promise that what's old isn't trash. What's free is the perspective to not need the price tag to tell you that.

-A

On Tweeting, More Soon Stay Tuned.

Hi all-

Working hard at my science work lately, so no new art to share. Worked on part of a poem last night though, so there is light at the end of the tunnel.

The topic of my current research paper is the establishment of truth in case-based reasoning. More simply put, how can we believe the stories other people tell us?

More upcoming. Also, I have a twitter now. See links on the side and stuff.

-A

On Criticism, Flowers, Etc.

Hi all-

Took this one a while back. Submitted it to a photo contest and it made it to the final round... to be honest I'm not sure how it would have done because I didn't get the release in on time. I was a bit less confident then.

Sometimes I wonder if times like that we aren't subtly sabotaging ourselves. We get all big and inflated when we create the art, but then when someone shows interest, we withdraw. "Who me? I'm no artist, don't look at my work." We say to ourselves. Well maybe someone wants to look, and maybe it doesn't take being an "artist" to make things worth seeing. Maybe I'm channeling Julia Cameron here, but we all need the space to create. Once you make that space, don't let the fear of criticism (positive or negative) scare you out of the territory you found.

-A

On Ice Cream in Boonville

Hi all-

I ate ice cream here once. It was about a year ago around this time of year. It was sixty degrees out and I sat outside on the trunk of my car. I was listening to 'On Your Shore' by Charlotte Martin. More specifically 'Steel'. Which I was. Or at least was becoming.

-A

On Changing the Pace Here

Hi all-

The pace of only putting things up here that are 'finished' just isn't working for me. I think I want to peel this process back open a bit. Expect more snippets and pieces rather than defined wholes.

The page is the trail home.

And this time it's one step at a time.

-A

On Round Smooth Stone

Hi all-

"i was standing in a red-lit room
near the front of the mirror
we were all playing dress-up
going topless but throwing on a blazer
and everybody was looking at themselves
in a big corner mirror.

and i wondered why anybody would
want to do that
when there is a perfectly good kitchen door
that you can prop yourself up in
if you stand sideways and push with your legs
like a caver

and i wondered why they were looking at themselves
when it was me who actually exercised
and ate right
and lived healthy
well, in most ways
they were all looking at his abs
which had seen too many crunches and
not enough heavy lifting
(i'm speaking of the emotional sort as well here)

i used to wonder if the people at the mirror then
could get though eating a bowl of cereal
without staring at the glassy milk until it spoiled
and i realized that climbing the kitchen was
much more fun than the blazer was

eventually i skipped the scene
like a round smooth stone over the water
only not leaving any ripples on the mirror
(because heaven forbid)
it was more like i
bounced

and i got used to the awkward silence
and i got used to the being alone
and i got used to the $10 DVD as boyfriend
and i got used to the late night runs
and then i got used to being on my own
and then i got used to the peeps who gave a shit
and then i got used to the laughter
and being ok with being
a round smooth stone

and i still don't really look at the only mirror in my place
except to brush my teeth
to get out all that cereal
because baby i'm eating three bowls a day
with my eyes wide closed."

-A