rainy nite

returning from the mountain. i found myself driving on a rainy night. the shift and change of color and light searching through the water was familiar. tonight it is my mood. enjoy.

climb

i’ve been told i think to much. that i should think less. that it’s time for me to stop thinking and start doing. last week i stopped thinking about rock climbing and started doing it. i attempted to climb the wall three times, each time i got a bit higher. the third time i almost reached the top and that’s when it hit me: i wasn’t thinking, i was just doing. i didn’t think about how far i had gone or how far i had to go, or how well i was doing or how poorly i was doing, didn’t think of the pain, or the height, or the size of the grip i was holding, i climbed. simply climbed, and almost made it the whole way. what stopped me from reaching the top? i started thinking about how i was almost at the top of the wall.

i will climb again. i will learn this lesson.

look hard

to say i struggle with my place in photojournalism is an understatement. in the last week i have come face forward with why i find photojournalism truly inspiring and an emotional exchange. i have been working on a documentary about refugees and immigrants in scotland, the stories of why they have come to scotland are as varied as their accents and skin tone. i’ll wait to go into what i have learned from this experience for another time. but for now i would like to introduce you to hannan shihab, who after being burned from an american bomb in the opening months of the iraq war at age 15 has found a new life in scotland, and now at 19 is a wife, mother, and survivor of all that is awful of war; and marlena lubnieuska and her three daughters, who came to scotland in hopes of a better life than poland could offer, and ended up escaping from an abusive father and partner, rebuilding their lives from sole suitcase of clothing. to me these woman are beautiful, and it has nothing to do with how they look on the outside.

when reality hits home

really i’m just in shock. i’m going back to minnesota in two weeks, i’ve been thinking about minnesota a lot lately. trying to get my head around my family and friends that i haven’t seen in so long. and trying to get the a map of the roads in my head. i’ve driven across this bridge many times in my short driving life. it’s the main route to go from the north to the south and the main way into minneapolis. i’m just in shock. that big blue building in the upper right corner is the guthrie theatre where i’ve dreamed of performing. this is where i’m from, these are my neighbors, the might mississippi… it’s minnesota.

haggis

i had haggis last night for the first time in twelve years. it was as good as i remember. and like i told zach and chad, tastes just like hotdish.

courage

my photographic struggles continue. funny, flying thousands of miles away from home and your fears come with you. of my photography it’s been said, “i can see your fear in your images.” i agree. other the last two weeks i have run head first into that fear every day, a fear of putting a camera up to my eye and looking at others through it. a fear they will not want me there. a fear that when i press the shutter release the frame will not be good enough. that it will be boring or dull.

today i went to the barras market in glasgow in hopes of confronting my fear. the market has been operating for at least a hundred years. some merchants are inside with booths and some set up tents outside. they sell items from fresh cut meat, socks, old jewelry, and tombstones. walking around with my camera many people looked at me, some told me not to photograph them. others didn’t mind so much. the old men just wanted to flirt. it took me a bit to get comfortable being there and to have the courage to take a photo. when i did the fear was in the frame. i was to far away, or didn’t take time to frame and meter correctly. it was frustrating. i kept wanting to leave, but stayed. i said to myself, “this is the kind of photography i don’t want to do. i’m not good at it. i’m not a street photographer.” i ended up leaving a bit earlier than i had planned. but i did overcome one fear, slowly i started talking to more of the merchants. learning their story. most just come for the market which is held every friday and saturday. the rest of the week they look for more goods to sell or as one man said, “sit at home and watch television.”

so i’m proud i had the courage to go and try. and sad the fear kept me from succeeding. a few images.

climbing

thoughts from Sir Arthur’s Seat estimated 750 feet elevation…

i’ve driven up and down mountians and climbed two great heights in one week. they say life is about about the journey and not the destination. on all my climbs the journey has been difficult and the destination short lived. then the journey continues. in art, in creativity we are constantly starting. one writer said he does not write because he likes to write, rather, he writes because he likes to have written. i like to have created, to have photographed, to have acted, and yes to have written. always starting, always the hard part. the architect Frank Gehry said he would rather clean off his desk than start a new project.

i am in scotland, again at the start. i have the idea, now i must start to the subjects. it is again kicking my butt and causing me to push my head deeper into the pillow. i can see the images in my mind, i can hear the possible final comments. i cannot get myself to jump that next hurdle of starting.

while climbing to Arthur’s Seat it is very steep and very rocky. if you look up you may fall. it reminded me of rock climbing, where you must keep your eye on the rock or risk losing your grip. but if you only ever look where you step you will miss seeing the view, and isn’t the view the reason we climb in the first place?

my view at this moment is of the Firth of Forth from 750 feet up, two ships are at sea… the entire city of Edinburgh is at my feet. i can see the North Berwick Law that i climbed on Thursday.

staying at the top is not an option. nothing grows on the mountain top, life is in the valley. the climb let’s us know we are still alive.

a tourist on her way down had this to say, “the top is better than the bottom. the down climb is better than the up.” but to get to the view we must struggle through the climb.

my hand at the top of the climb.

rain, rain, rain

it rains a lot in scotland. children in strollers, or buggies, get covered in plastic so they look like bubble children. today one such tot tried to escape. i’m starting to wish i had a bubble to walk around in…

First Impressions of Edinburgh

i have joined my fellow grad student jim korpi in heading over seas this summer, i landed in edinburgh with the school of visual communication scotland field school on monday 15 july. thus far we have only been in edinburgh, making strong attempts to feel comfortable in our adopted city. i spent a month in dalkieth, scotland 12 years ago, making weekend trips to edinburgh. i have seen many of the same sites as i did back then, but the city has changed greatly. the amount of capital boom is amazing. edinburgh, like many major cities, has a great number of performers seeking funds on the street. street performers must have a permit and every permit specifies where and for how long they can perform. while walking down princes street (think 5th ave in nyc) i came upon a performance i had never seen before.

andy is from yorkshire originally, and for the last 16 years he has been traveling around the UK as a homeless wonderer and performer. a few years back he needed a new routine and started doing a basic yoga headstand and then changed it up by placing his head in three buckets. he can hold a headstand for up to 1 hour and 20 minutes, mostly he’ll just go for about 20 minutes or so and then come down to get the blood to his feet and pour the change from one bucket to the next, “for security reasons,” he says. andy doesn’t like to think of himself as a homeless man and only states it on his cardboard sign which reads, “upside down and looking daft! but that don’t matter as long as you laugh!! i maybe homeless, but this is my living! thank you andy please be considerate when taking photos. thanks andy.”

running into andy was one of those great surprises that only happens when wondering the streets. andy came into my life for a very short moment. in fact after i had taken some photos and dropped some coins in his bucket i walked up the street a bit, thought of an image sequence i’d like to photograph of the people walking by in shock and amusement. i turned back and when i got there andy was gone, a difference of maybe two minutes, and i would have never met this man. just one moment.

5,997

i drove out of athens, ohio bound for a journey with only three rules 1. travel only to places i had never been 2. travel alone and be with people i did not know 3. call julie everyday at 10am local time. i kept to those three rules for 28 days in the summer of 2007, i welcome you now to my thoughts and views along the way.

driving out of athens i was happy to be leaving this small town and nervous for what was ahead. i stopped for lunch somewhere in kentucky and pulled out my road atlas. and so it began me looking at the map planning my route. never wanting to far ahead of myself i made a rule not to look at the next state i was driving to until i got to the border. it became the border crossing routine, get close to the crossing, take a photo of the “welcome to..” or “state line” sign, turn the page of the map, settle in for more hours of driving. then repeat. if this were an audio piece the song “get out the map” from the indigo girls would be playing. that’s a song that has inspired me for years. and for some reason i didn’t listen to it once while driving.

i stopped in dallas to shot my master’s project on david leeson. it was a wild week. and for those of you who think david is weird or odd, well he’s not really, he’s just david. one night he did an antiportrait (which is a portrait of someone else in his makeshift studio) this is what his camera and hands looked like when he was down. one of the photos he took that night can be seen on his myspace site.

after that worldwind lesson in how to shot a documentary i started off for santa fe. i was well warned driving through west texas was going to be long and dull. well it wasn’t, but i never want to do it again. it was hot, flat, but good. lots of dairy queens, i stopped at one to buy an ice cream cone (after about 40 stores they wore me down and i stopped) turned out the ice cream maker was broken no ice cream. back on the road.

when i finally reached new mexico my eyes got what would be the first of many surprise views. now growing up in minnesota we learned about plateaus in school, they were those things way down south and in peru. well i saw my first plateau in june and it was very exciting to finally see what i learned about in third grade come to life.

after that lovely time santa fe loomed in the distance. and my car began what would be the other routine of the trip, coming close to over heating and having a hard time climbing mountains. the week in santa fe was a welcomed change from dallas. lots of reading, relaxing, and walking around looking at art. one night i sent myself off for a walk and ended up walking into a sculpture garden.

i have a habit of always looking up. they say when you are using your imagination you look up and to the right. i do that a lot. looking up. that would be the title of my biography. looking up.

leaving santa fe was difficult. i was not only saying goodbye to a friend but i was plunging head first into the heart of my journey. from here until i arrived in nashville i would be thousands of miles away from anyone i knew and completely alone. that sunday night i stopped in victorville, california. i brought my road atlas into the motel room. sat on the bed. and cried. that was the moment it hit me i was driving away from the familiar and farther and farther into the unknown. my car was not doing so well and driving through the desert without air conditioning is hard on the sole. the main thought hitting my brain was, “what am i doing? why am i driving thousands of miles away from my friends? i don’t know….” it was time to reach out for help, first to jamie and then julie. julie reminded me this is the only time in my life i would be able to do this trip and i just needed a bit of courage to keep going and if i turned around i would regret it. forward west was my only option.

on california. i’ve wanted to see southern california for years, wanted to see the hollywood sign, stand in the footprints of the stars, drive through beverly hills, and the ocean. oh the ocean. the ocean speaks to me. in my mind’s eye is always the ocean. i prefer the atlantic ocean of new england, but i’ll take whatever ocean i can get. here are the moments in california that were the reason i drove through the desert.

the whole time i was driving west i thinking about this computer game we played in elementary school, it was called “the oregon trail”, it was about traveling from the east coast to west along the oregon trail. the game required you to buy horses, wagon, food, wood and other tools that would get you and your entire family to the west coast safely. it was sort of like the game “life” but instead of a red convertible you got a horse and wood wagon, and instead of winning money in a contest grandma would drown in a river you tried to cross instead of going the extra 10 miles to the bridge crossing. it was a difficult game and i don’t think i made it across once.

also on my mind were the people to traveled to california during the depression. my car barely made it through the heat and hills, i kept seeing on the road these old junker cars stacked high with all the worldly possessions families could carry. i not only better understand the trials and hardships of those journeys but i also understand why when people got to the coast they thought they were in heaven. after days of seeing nothing but desert brown the blue ocean and coastal air was amazing.

here now some other images that popped up along in venice beach. notice who’s cover story is on the magazine in the middle? and yes that is a tiger shark that man caught while fishing and yes kim he did let it go. and that statue went up the night before i got to venice and some of the locals aren’t happy about it. one shop owner said he wouldn’t be surprised if during the night someone painted a yellow bikini on it.

after six days by the ocean i started back into the desert. following rule number 2 i went northeast to las vegas. one night in vegas is all i needed. it was over 100 degrees in the shade with a breeze and cool drink in your hand. one night and i was gone. but in that one night i saw a young couple get married in front of the bellagio, m&m world, coca-cola world, my first casino, the construction of george clooney’s casino, and the eiffel tower and statue of liberty.

three more days of driving and i would be in nashville. the first day i made it through utah and colorado. utah truly is a beautiful place. i was constantly in awe at the vastness of it all. it was a lot to take in. much more beautiful than i thought it would be. colorado was also beautiful. by the time i arrived in colorado i was more than ready to see green again. making the drive up to vail i decided one day i would take amtrak west through the mountains. i thought that would be a story to tell, what it’s like to travel by rail to the pacific northwest and who it is that goes by rail. besides my parents of course.

a sign both terrifying and funny at the same time.

after sleeping four hours in my car near the colorado/kanasas border i started day two of driving headed southeast to arkansas. the yankees game was to start at 6pm and i was in search of espn. now after more than two weeks of mountains, brown, heat, and to much elevation for my little car to handle kansas was the most beautiful place in america. again i was warned that kansas was dull one man said, “it’s like your car is staying still and the scenery is moving.” but again i found it just great, in fact i was overjoyed to be out of the mountains (sorry chad) i was ready for some familiar ground of farms, corn and flat. the area of america called the great plains is part of who i am. minnesota is a bit north and a bit different than the rest of the midwest states, but really being from one farming state is like having some ownership in all of them. in the entirety of my trip it was passing through kansas and oklahoma that i felt the least like a stranger. i understand the mentality and life of the midwest and as long as i don’t have to live there i’m perfectly fine with coming through for a visit. and i will always find a family farm as something beautiful.

now i found some espn and a waffle house and hot shower. the yankees won. btw. and when i woke up july 3rd, i was all excited, for on this day i would see the best part of my trip. instead of going straight to nashville i went back north a bit to visit the boyhood home of johnny cash. it was the best and i was totally excited the whole way, in fact i skipped everything i wanted to see in memphis just so i could get there sooner. the town of deyss, arkansas is really small, but the house at the end of one dirt road is famous. deyss has one store, i stopped in to get some directions. the 18 year old girl working couldn’t remember how to get there, after i signed the town book on visitors to johnny’s home she called her dad for the directions. it was 3 miles away. and the best 3 miles of the whole trip.

some photos of johnny’s place. the sign on the mailbox reads, “pull in driveway pictures of house $5.00 (outside) put money in box- for upkeep of house. donations appreetiated thank you”

i took some photos, said hi to the dog, and left $5. then drove back to the store to say thank you and buy an ice cream. my time in deyss was short but wonderful. and it made me want to do a story on that little town, population 551.

next stop nashville. i stayed with a friend of sorts from minnesota, her name is heather. i met her about a week before i moved to athens. heather had lived in nashville for just over two weeks when i got to town, she was happy to have someone to explore the city with. we spent part of the fourth with some musician friends of hers she’s known for years. and even helped celebrate a birthday.

from there is was athens or bust. i really never thought the welcome to ohio sign would be lovely to see. i thought back to driving into athens last september, the flood of memories from the past nine months was thick and lovely.

i pulled into athens at sunset.

it was 5,997 miles from athens to athens. 5,997 miles of life, lots of land seen, many problems overcome, and i believe i have mastered taking photos while driving. the highs out weighed the lows, the people i met along the way were great. and the time spent just sitting and thinking was the best way i could spend three weeks on the road. i’m glad i went out on this adventure alone, i’m stronger for it. what i learned i believe is still coming to me, but mainly i learned i have many dreams i can’t wait to get back to turning into reality. because really the adventure of me is just getting started….

path taken ohio → kentucky → arkansas → texas → new mexico → arizona → california → nevada → arizona → utah → colorado → kansas → oklahoma → arkansas → tennessee → arkansas → missouri → tennessee → kentucky → ohio

now fire up that johnny cash song, “I’ve been everywhere, man I’ve been everywhere, man Crossed the deserts bare, man I’ve breathed the mountain air, man Of travel I’ve had my share, man I’ve been everywhere…”