Old stuff

I don’t have any new pictures to share, but I have wanted to post my essay on “Coal and its effects in Appalachia” for a while. So here it is. Also, a speacial thanks to all those who helped me out along the way for this. I couldn’t have done it with out you.

Bleed me dry

I feel like there are two types of pain. The kind experienced when beaten or cut, which stings with shock but flurries with an adrenaline rush. It is the kind that makes your eyes open wider, your senses sharper and alert, and it quickly manifests in an explosion of instinct to fight back.

Then there is the other kind of pain. The kind that is dull and dark. The kind that reaps havoc in your brain and heart. The kind that makes you want to crawl up in the fetal position.

I feel like photography has beaten me up pretty badly lately. All of the pain suffered has been the dull kind. The unbearable kind that makes you not want to care anymore, because it hurts if you do. No blood. But sadness.

Future Soldiers

I am not one for birthdays. Except camping birthdays, which are my favorites. I also don’t take compliments so well. Mostly I smile and stare at my shoes. Once though I got a compliment that really meant a lot to me, and I remember it well. While working as a tour guide in Israel, my Israeli counterpart commented to me that I would have made a great officer in the military. That I expect as much from myself as I do from others. I am not sure what it was about it, but it made me feel very good. Proud.

I like structure. Something interests me about discipline and the art of discipline. I think I find these aspects of the military appealing. There are also many things about the military that I dislike. Mostly the part about killing. But I do respect it as an institution, and I respect the credos they supposedly stand for. And for the most part, I respect the people in it.

One of my greatest interests in general, and in terms of photography, is the war in Iraq. For my long-term documentary project in school, I am supposed to photograph something that I am passionate about. I am currently trying to photograph three seventeen-year olds who have already enlisted in the army. They are finishing high school, and will be shipping off to boot camp in late June and early July. They are cognizant of the fact that they will be going to Iraq, and I have to think it takes a special kind of person to sign up for that. I can’t say that I would. I haven’t. I really respect everything I know about them so far. Their reasons seem good, and they generally seem like good kids. And there lies the issue. It is strange to me that they will be members of the fighting force currently entrenched in war in Iraq. I definitely think it’s one of the most important stories to be told of my generation of journalists.

Crazy People Need Not Apply

I have been working as a photographer since 2001. This seems like a long time, and I guess it suggests a certain level of skill and accomplishment. Please don’t let it be misleading. The funny thing is that I was never a photojournalist, only a photographer, and to me there is a big difference. One of the main differences is the ability and desire to be a “storyteller”. To be honest, I did not really start understanding this until a few months ago. I guess that is what is missing in my work.

The reason I bring this up is the following story. Last week I was in video class and we had a staff photographer from the Dallas Morning News come in and speak to us about her experience in video and what they are doing at her paper. She mentioned that: it’s the audio that guides video, or something to that effect. One of my classmates commented on this later by saying it was bullshit. That here we have been suffering under the yoke that words lead pictures for years, and now, audio! When will the images lead the images?

Well, here is what I have to say about this. While putting together my short-term documentary on my family, I first put the audio track together. I don’t know what it is about me, or audio, but it was very easy for me to find the story through my audio. I have to say that I love audio, and that I feel very comfortable with the medium, but I also want to say that I think it will help my photography a lot. Primarily because it is easier for me to create a story arc, and to “feel” the story in audio, and then to understand what images I need to tell that story. I am a very visual person, but for whatever reason, organizationally, audio is my friend. So, I would tend to agree with the Dallas Morning News shooter, and am glad I have this new tool to help me along the way.

By the way, here is the link to my project on my family. The concept was that “Loving Parents Produce Loving Children.” If you are a crazy person please don’t watch it and please leave my family alone. Thanks, all other comments are welcome:

http://www.milesfrommaybe.com/family/

School

School is a very interesting place. You definitely love being here and hate being here several times a day. It makes you want and not want to be a photographer several times a day too.

One of my class mates Jim Korpi said to me after coming over for dinner first quarter: I like when you find something out about someone that surprises you in a good way.

I guess referring to my cooking. By the way, I make a mean red sauce!

But, my point is this, I agree. I had one of these experiences yesterday at school.
I found out about the Virginia Tech. shootings before my documentary class. Everyone was talking about it and obviously concerned. At least one person had family there. When class started and Bruce (my professor) asked if we had anything to talk about before our presentations began, a new grad student named Greg Smith asked for a moment of silence for the families and students effected by the shooting. I was surprised by his emotion when doing so, and felt very moved to make the most to that moment. I thought a lot about my family whom I had just finished a project on. The one I was just about to turn in. And I was very glad to know they were all safe and far away.

I found solace in that moment of silence last night. I was thinking how exhausted I was and how I was not loving school at the moment; and how I did not have a job/internship for the summer yet; and why I wanted to actually do this job for the rest of my life, and wondering if it was all worth it. Yet that moment made me realize how lucky I was. I not only appreciated the fact that I was safe myself, and not sitting in a hospital bed wondering what I was going to do, but I appreciated that the people I love were safe and happy.

I also realized I was learning a lot in school, and more than just photography. I decided that it also might be worth it, and that I don’t have it so bad.

Short-Term Doc, Long-Term Commitment

For my short-term documentary project this quarter I decided to do a piece on my family. This was much more difficult that I thought it would be. For one, it was the first time I ever photographed my family as “a photojournalist.” I think they were a little startled. It was refreshing for me however, because I felt as if I was bringing them to work with me, like my parents did when I was little. I think it helped them understand me more, and what I want to do.

One of the difficulties I had photographing my family is that when we get together, our primary activity is eating. We eat often. And when we are not eating, we spend our time in the kitchen either preparing for the meal or cleaning up from it. This is one of the things I love most about spending time at home, but from a photographer’s perspective, it does not lend much to visual diversity. I did get some of my mom’s home made gefilte fish, ginger salmon with carrots, red peppers and asparagus, chocolate cake, turkey, broccoli kugel, roasted potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, and all the ice cream I could eat. Of course that was not a single meal, but you get the point.

I also had somewhat of an insight while visiting my family. I am often criticized at school, and by people viewing my work, that my pictures lack emotional content. One of the faculty members at school even went as far as questioning my ability to connect emotionally with people. Personally I think this is bullshit. I think I connect with people like few other people can. I just don’t think I am able to translate in my pictures for some reason. I know this because I also did some audio interviews, and they are tremendously powerful. At least to me. So I guess my challenge is to bring my pictures up to speed.

Do you know where the term “rag” originally comes from?

I have a few thoughts about newspapers that I would like to share. My last post was about my involvement with the BOP judging here at Ohio University. One thing that I did not mention was that the judges decided not to award a third place for best newspaper for seventy-five thousand circulation and bigger. They felt that none of the papers deserved it. I have been thinking about this in the context of whether newspapers deserve to be around in the future. There is the debate about whether papers will survive the digital revolution, but maybe they don’t deserve to. My hometown newspaper, The New Haven Register is a complete joke. It’s officially written at a third grade level. Maybe this is just a weeding out process for papers like this?

I think its funny actually, that John Glenn, one of the judges for BOP, is from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. He was adamant about the lack of quality in the picture editing he saw. His paper did not have a single entry in the competition. In fact, I remember looking through the Atlanta Journal-Constitution while in the airport and thinking it was a total rag. The pictures were basically all ads, and the ones that weren’t were AP.

The point I am trying to make is that maybe newspapers deserve to die. Why do they have this sense of entitlement to covering the news when they do it so poorly? Evolution is the way of the world, and newspapers are getting what they deserve. Owners are greedy, journalists are disgruntled and the ageing population at most papers can’t keep up with new technology. One of my classmates recently had an interview at a major metro paper and they told him “we are making baby steps online.” Excuse me, but eight year olds are making their own websites.

I don’t know how healthy it would be for every paper to disappear, but I certainly won’t feel bad for all the crappy ones that close shop.