Montage Creative

TJ in the studio

2011-11-10T06:09:00.000-07:00

An Owl and Boxed Water

2011-07-29T08:38:00.011-06:00

The puzzle owl is from Muji; the boxed water is from Boxed Water is Better.

Spanish Fork Canyon: Diptych

2011-06-01T05:48:00.000-06:00

Shot on the same morning, on the same drive. The rolling hills leading into Spanish Fork Canyon.

Madonna Feeding Child

2011-06-01T05:04:00.001-06:00

Unfortunately, I don't have the reference on this piece. Only that it's found in The Louvre and I intentionally photographed the hand gestures and the forms against the pattern with the robe... all exquisite.

Cockpit Instruments

2011-06-01T03:31:00.011-06:00

With so many faces
And numbers
And chances to miss an educated guess,

The gauges rest
And the whirrings have stopped
At Noon.

And nobody will be home for dinner.

--

I'm very uncomfortable putting this image up.

I have been to Guatemala twice. Both times I was connected with a humanitarian group that frequented this country, as well as 4 or 5 others. Both times I worked with a beautiful man and woman, Javier and Wolfred. They were employed by this organization as in-country directors, which means they took people like me from beginning to end of every point along the way. They were also husband and wife.

The image below shows the cockpit instruments of the small, 18-passenger courier plane we rode from Guatemala City into the highlands of the Polochic Valley. The planes sputter. And jostle. And dip. And make that put-put sound you hear when one is in the sky or you're watching a film by National Geographic. And you never feel quite at ease being seated in one. On one such trip, I decided to shoot this image to remind me of the faith I put in instruments.

In August 2008 my friends were in a plane that crashed on one of these expeditions. They were en route to bring supplies and helpers to communities too far into the mountains to reach by other means. My friends died. Miraculously, some in the party survived. This image represents all of those sad, melancholy unknowns I can't help wondering about: what was the end like? Did they hold each other? What did their hands do? Where did their eyes set and when did they close?

As the pilots struggled to maintain the plane, some of the survivors recalled singing by members of the small group. They sang even though they knew the plane was going to crash. They sang knowing those last few minutes may be their last. They flew into death and they sang.

This may or may not be the cockpit of that downed plane. I don't know and personally, I don't want to find out.

Rest in peace, beloveds. Your memory will rest on my eyes forever.

Uniforms

2011-06-01T02:43:00.005-06:00

Sometimes when I think about where I've been
Or what I've seen,
I get stuck in the ditch—
Intent on the lapping sound
Of my tapping toes
Making rippling circles.

--

These images were shot on my first excursion to Africa. I was led and guided by a dear friend that taught me her view of the world, which just so happened to include these beautiful, wonderful children in uniform. These images are some of the hundreds of children we fell in love with. The girls' uniform pink does me in... and then I see the Maasai boys' forrest green shorts. I'm not sure the exact reason why I shot them blurry, but I still agree with my decision then. You can find out about these kids and my friend's brilliant life work here. Her husband's photography marries her vision perfectly. These two do the kind of good that is always being done, but never being seen.

I Was Followed

2011-06-01T02:18:00.003-06:00

Once upon a time I was followed. Yeah. A friend decided to pick up my camera and follow me around for 1 hour. I was struck with what must be something my clients feel: Wait..! You're just going to follow me? Look at me? Really? Are you sure? "Just relax," I tell them. Easier said then done, right?

This is only one of the images. It was shot in Salt Lake City, entitled Dallas' Day. It makes my heart melt a bit–this friendly following by a friend. So try it. Especially if your friend is usually behind the camera's eyepiece. It'll startle them.

The other image was shot by my eye.
With my Holga.
It looks like my memories feel.

Ugolino & Sons

2011-06-01T01:36:00.008-06:00

A dear friend visited last weekend. He's been working on policy at the UN (of course he has...) and was here for a couple of days. In order for his UN-brain to rub off on me, we ventured to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see Alexander McQueen | Savage Beauty. I took my camera as an act of faith... maybe there's a chance they'll allow no-flash photography in the exhibit..? No dice. If you can see it before it leaves (31 July), you should. It's worth whatever wait you need to schedule.

Afterwards, we made our way to sculpture courtyard to visit a few more old friends of mine: Ugolino & Sons.

This image was shot with my old film camera at Metropolitan Museum of Art a number of years back when I was doing some private study with the transcendent symbolist/figure painter, Patrick Devonas. Academically, his workshops were the best training I have ever received when considering the important arteries of study: the figure, light/shadow, drawing, memory, and imagination. He used to take me to see this sculpture, reminding me as only a mentor can, the importance and significance of well-represented human forms. This piece by Jean-Baptiste Carepeaux references Canto 33 of The Inferno. Now that I live here, I visit it each time I visit the Met... It's like coming back to an old friend that just so happens to have intentions of eating his children.

I had plans for years to enlarge this image and make it a wall wrap. And then that idea changed to something that would appear on the ceiling of my condo. And then it never happened... C'est la vie.

I'm kinda thrilled I can see it often, now. Maybe that's how art is meant to be enjoyed.

Below the image you'll find the text associated to this piece.

Enjoy.

But when to our somber cell was thrown
A slender ray, and each face was lit
I saw in each the aspect of my own,
For very grief both of my hands I bit,
And suddenly from the floor arising they,
Thinking my hunger was the cause of it,
Exclaimed: Father eat thou of us, and stay
Our suffering: thou didst our being dress
In this sad flesh; now strip it all away.

Leo

2011-05-09T14:26:00.002-06:00

Shared by Sage

Leo is turning 5 this summer and she is named partly for her grandpa Leon who passed away 10 years ago and partly for Page McConnell from Phish, whose nickname is Leo.

My Pillow-View

2011-04-29T04:28:00.001-06:00

I've been working on a children's book with Red Fred Bodoni. In it I explain how he came to be. It'll be a good dose of photography juxtaposed those brilliant and bizarre birds. This image was shot as a "maybe" for the first spread. I labeled it with notes regarding the misfits about my room: the decor, the found-objects that have found relevance with me. I don't think I'll use this exact image—maybe a variation of it. If you want to see the notes, click directly on the image to open it into a new browser window.

There you go. My pillow-view. In black and white.

Spring Dumping

2011-04-28T05:27:00.001-06:00

I have few shirts. Enough few that throwing three out the other day made my dressing-selection process the next day easier, when trying to decide what to wear. Our place is pretty bare-boned since we moved here last September. We couldn't take much, so we didn't. Six boxes were all we could fit in the Fit. And we haven't accumulated too much "stuff" in the duration, making our spring cleaning a little less eventful than past years. Those past times were usually spent targeting certain key friends that could sit and look at what was in my closet and give it thumbs-up or thumbs-down (thanks, Matthew).

So now, we just leave spring cleaning to the neighbors... er, rather, the recently evicted neighbors.

A few months ago when our super told us she finally was able to get a tenant out of the building, I felt my brow furrow, wondering what kind of energy it was taking to kick somebody out—I remembered how my tenant in SLC did a number on me for a few months last Fall, literally leaving me in the hole $5K. I quickly registered and could understand the super's relief.

When she told us he was moving out, we asked if our friend could take a look at the apartment, since she was looking and we were starting to enjoy this cusp of Carroll Gardens and Red Hook.

"No," the super said, "His apartment is going to take months to clean."

Three days ago, the cleaning commenced. And true to her word, it has been months since we heard about the initial eviction. I had a notion to walk upstairs with my camera. Before you glimpse, here was my thought process:

omgoodness... GRRRRRROSS!... HOW????HOW??????... >gag reflex<... >hand covering mouth (an act of protection AND amazement)... INCREDIBLE... >gag reflex<... I've only heard about these kind of conditions... Poor fellow... Dallas, you're really going to shoot images of this poor chap's personal living space, after he's been evicted?!... There should be a reality show about this—wait, there is... This is COMICAL.... HOW????HOW???? >gag reflex<... Suddenly, my spring cleaning doesn't seem so bad.

Ready for the big one?

It took 300+ black garbage bags to empty this apartment. 300+. I kid you not. They have been placed in our eye-sore backyard, adding another great gritty layer to the cusp we're on.

Ernie and Ashton

2011-04-27T08:21:00.000-06:00

Shared by Lisa.

Ernie

Boring story. Name was computer generated. I was going to rename him Calvin because I thought he looked like the tiger (Calvin and Hobbes) but my friends and family insisted he was "Ernie" and that they would keep calling him Ernesto/Ernsby... so I caved. The girl who adopted Ernie first returned him because he is too much trouble. He has a massive overbite and looks like a fox but the rescuers thought he was border collie/corgi mix. He may be a miniature golden retriever because that is his favorite kind of dog.

Ashton

I met a woman at a Phish show in North Carolina. Her neighbor had a chocolate lab puppy she didnt want. We picked him up the next morning on the side of the road. The kids in the van did not like "Shadow" and he had no leash or collar. We hated the name but liked the /SH/ sound so we changed it to Ashton. We knew a soccer player from our dorm with that name. A year alter Ashton Kutcher got very famous and people started buying me shirts that said "I kissed Ashton," "I heart Ashton," "I love Ashton." It stopped with the Ashton's wife luckily.

Ashton's vet papers say Chocolate lab but he is some type of mutt. He hates swimming unlike most labs.

Windowsill

2011-04-19T13:05:00.009-06:00

Somebody gave me some advice once: try doing your "creative feeding" in the morning, just as you would feed your body. Good idea I think. I don't do it all the time. I shoot for it. Most of the time, I am resisting the urge to check email because that'll make me more effective, right? So yeah... lately I'm sidestepping towards the bleachers of those that prefer to open their email AFTER breakfast, but sometimes I get stuck at the kiosk selling nachos and I still check my email.

Do you ever compare your current home to a past home? Something similar to what my brilliant cousin BJ was asking this week, getting some feedback on research he's doing: "Does seeing pictures of yourself in your youthful prime invigorate you or depress you?" I see where I live now, walk past the smashed cockroaches in the hallways, look out at The Golden Arches every day and often think of my "adolescent prime" East-facing condo in Salt Lake City. Seeing those mountains did something to me every morning, I'm sure the same way seeing Mickey-Dees does something to me now.

I'm working on a new project and was needing to get my juices flowing. After my Brooklyn-bridge walk, chatting with some dog-owners, I made my way back to my "middle-aged" home. Nibbling on fiber-something, my glance shot towards a few DIY flower arrangements I made last week. I'm ashamed to say I don't know what type of flowers they are and more ashamed that I'm not going to take time to google them. But they are violet-ish and yellow-ish. They are being "vased" (I don't say /vaw-sed/ either) in some milk bottles and an old can of some crushed tomatoes that I couldn't part with, due to their labels and shape.

My eyes got hooked on the branches in the back yard and then, while focusing, I kinda got lost in the mesh of the window screens. The depth of field created a beautiful merging of soft foreground and muted backgrounds. They are moody and broody and a bit like the weather, I suppose. They are here and they are the still lives in my windowsill.

It's funny how sight works, isn't it? Your windowsill seems so grimey and dusty and the pathway to an eyesore of a backyard/graveyard, full of skeleton plastic water bottles and the spirits of vacuous grocery bags. And then suddenly, within inches, the world blurs and purples... it blends green and mellowed yellows... and the delicate shapes of petals become giant wings of fantastical creatures of nature. All within about 3 feet of windowsill.

Park=Pets & Petals

2011-04-18T16:38:00.022-06:00

A few shots from this weekend. Sunday found some cherished and much-needed sunshine. I found some happy pet-owners whose lovely animals were as pretty as they were. The Magnolia tree by the zoo is incredible. And this first image has kinda got me eye-locked: I was waiting and testing some lighting. Low and behold: an old, beautiful, Asian couple opposite me, going the other way.

Saturday Snap Shots

2011-04-09T13:07:00.015-06:00

Bridges don't have gold at the end of them, but something very close: crocheted bicycles.

The second shot is the store front of my friend Nadia. She's an incredibly gifted modern dancer turned fashion designer. This was sitting outside on the side walk, admiring her "spring sale"-sewn sign. If I was a woman, I'd wear her close. Check out her collection if you have a moment. Wow-ee, Pow-ee.

Goudy á la Whitacre, With a Dash of Varanassi

2011-04-08T07:07:00.020-06:00

Last night I met some folks from The Type Directors Club meeting to hear a lecture on Fredric Goudy, the prolific and talented typographer that created well-knowns like Goudy Old Style and Copperplate Gothic. The voice and vision were delivered by Steve Matteson, Creative Type Director of Monotype Imaging. Knowing Goudy's work intimately, Mr Matteson gave a personal reflection on the designer, noting similarities of Goudy's leisure life that coincidentally matched his. Steve's connection to the subject opened the Goudy-sky up. Not a bad reminder, eh?: seek to surround yourself with people that know what they know... and then listen.

Last night was also one of those nights where 3 great things happen to land on the same 2/hr block. Though bodily and mindfully with the TDC, my spirit was somewhere close by: Eric Whitacre was in town, debuting his Virtual Choir with an audience full of participants and admirers. And I am definitely one. Having spent a number of years under the baton of an incredible director and a magnificent group (shout out to UCA!), I have been familiar with Mr Whitacre's work. He very much matches his Apollonian appearance, in heart and manner: quick to laugh, keen and exacting measuring sound, and the music lacing are simply his true 1st nature. His work may be titled "contemporary choral" or "modern choral" but these plastic descriptors stray far from the universe of sound he emits. Truly, a gifted being. My muse had enlisted me to participate in the Virtual Choir (please click and watch) a couple months back (you sat at the computer, put on ear-phones, and recorded yourself singing to his music, then uploaded it to YouTube) to lighten my life and to breathe some of that magic choral air in. I was delighted and saw his TED presentation last wk and found myself wishing I could split my body in two, in order to hear last night's debut.

It also turned out to be AIGA's Bright Lights Awards evening. Friends from here and home (Salt Lake City) were sipping and laughing and enjoying some tremendous work and relationships.

Back to TDC. I met a few new friends. This has been my quizzical wonder since I've moved here: how to meet "my people." I've found it a bit of a challenge, although not completely. Something like last night was a good reason to connect. My main drive in going to TDC was to personally meet Steve and see what he thought about my Jolly Troop. I've been wanting to do write by type designers and type foundries as I pursue these brilliant, bizarre, and beautiful birds - fashioning them into pattern and objects. The good news is that Steve was supportive, told me to send him some parameters, which fonts needed to be considered, and he'd make sure to pass it to Monotype's legal team - to ensure I can do what I want to do with them. Which is what, exactly Dallas? How about expand the level of awareness of design as it touches material and intention; how about trying to create a moment of reflection to "pause & rejoice?" Oh, and let's not forget patterns making.

Which brings me to India. New friend from last night is headed there for his first time. Obviously I couldn't stop at "Just guzzle as much lassi as you can handle!" so I waxed adoring of my lovely India. This fellow is headed to Varanassi, so this morning, I was rummaging through past work to find one of my favorite and most adored photographs. I shot this while visiting Varanassi. You can see what I stared. On the opposite side of these homes was the magical and pure-brown Ganga, holy and wide. Entering such a holy place and being spectator put me in my respective place as my watchful, wide eyes could only do what they were meant to do: watch incredible, intensive devotion.

And here I lay, sick in bed.

I'll claim it as "jet lag" from the spirit traveling I did last night.

Red + White + Quilts = Infinite Variety

2011-04-07T12:38:00.014-06:00

All she wanted for her 80th birthday was a place to show her quilts.

Unfortunately, this post has been 2-wks delayed, hence not enough time to tell you to get out and give quilt-viewing a go. Luckily, a couple weeks ago, Emily convinced Dox and EmDox and me to hot-foot it uptown to see Infinite Variety: Three Centuries of Red and White Quilts. As soon as I saw this, I couldn't walk forward.

What's the incredible part, right? How about this: the collector, Joanna S. Rose has been collecting quilts (who does that??) for a few decades of her life and has over 1,000? Or, how about how all of the quilts are red and white patterns? Or how about guesstimating the space/size needed to fit over 640 quilts to exhibit for a week in New York? Her husband granted her the 80th birthday wish and she displayed them at Park Avenue Amory.

I've seen quilts. I was raised by an expert seamstress of a mother, which is to also say she was a quilter. I used to play games or try to hide under them when they were stretched out. I remember her working for hours and hours, needling every stitch. I remember pricking my finger on the sharp nails and the wonky-weight of the c-clamps when I helped her joint them together. So, I've seen the work. I can say there is a healthy respect. Walking into this gallery, however, kinda blew me over.
Here's the thing: the quilts here were a collection. And they were all red and white. We mentioned her choice in doing this and that it was right: it somehow amplified the presentation and the power of pattern. Multiply that by seeing the large size of the quilt, hanging among hundreds of others, and you began doing fast math as to the woman hours put into these incredible pieces.

Mrs Rose has simply found them along the way, so-to-speak. Garage sales, cousins, old friends, yard sales. And in so doing, amassed more of one "thing" than most people get half-way close to.

And there is no way to start commenting on the patterns. If you could imagine it, it was there. The graphic nature of each of the precisely placed pieces gave you a quiet feeling of awe or humility. Especially when you consider a single stitch.

It was moving and unreal. A perfect gift for New York, just like Joanna wanted.

En Route Project, Portraits from Here to There

2011-03-28T02:42:00.005-06:00

The New York subway system is something to be respected. To help you understand what the subway is, I went to MTA and grabbed these "at a glance" stats from a 2009 survey regarding its riders:

Average Saturday ~ 3 Million (2,928,247)

Average Weekly ~ 5 Million (5,086,833)

Annual Ridership ~ 1.5 Billion (1,579,866,600)

Stations: 486

Pretty sophisticated for something so rat-packed, right?

And regardless of the amount of people, it seemingly remains one of the most isolated places you'll find in the city. As the city's circulatory system, you'd think us riders would be more like blood cells, bumping and sharing information one with another - especially being so closely packed. The irony of the system corresponds to the relationship of human-connecting compared with the amount of location-connnecting.

In efforts to mind the gap (sorry, I had to) between commuter and story, I've started this project. With similar nuance and feel as my earlier projects, I have a desire to get up-close-and-personal with strangers in attempt to record and share their opinion on a certain topic. Think of it as chipping away at the 1.5 Billion... giving them faces and voices.

The En Route Project, Portraits from Here to There, will be a photojournalism experience with NYC commuters. Each participant agrees to have their picture shot, as well as share their opinion, story, secret, or advice from their time on the subway as well as their personal choice to train-preference. In return, I will send them a high-resolution file of the portrait I shot. They are free to use that image for any personal use.

Each participant will remain anonymous, except for the title "Participant No. X". And as previously shared, there will be a bit of sharing regarding quips or advantages to be shared.

Imagine the social strata.

Salty Honey Pie

2011-03-26T13:50:00.003-06:00

I had pie for breakfast.

This usually only happens around November and around family and turkey and cranberries. This usually only happens when my mother and aunties pile the outdoor-Fall-chill-tables with all sorts of autumnal feasting options. In order to stay "thankful" and "guiltless" you eat the food. It shouldn't go to waste, right? Eating pie for breakfast was one of those "save the food" mentalities I grew up with.

My mother's pie crusts are unbeatable. She's from that era, you know what I mean? She's been making them more years than I've been alive. Her craft is precise and precious... something I miss on a regular basis. The crust is a hallmark of sorts for the quality of the pie. Or at least, that's what I learned.

There's been some talk in Brooklyn about a pie shop called Four & Twenty Black Birds that serves pie, pieces and whole, all day long. Every word I've heard is golden. So this morning, took a walk to towards Prospect Park with a salivating saunter.

When I found the pie-place, I walked in and faced an adorable chalk-drawn menu above the chefs' heads. I asked the gal helping me her personal favorite. She named the top pie listed:

SALTY HONEY.

Maybe it's my maturing taste buds... or maybe its just Brooklyn rubbing off on me... but I'm a fan of the salty/sweet. However, I stood gawking for 10 minutes trying to decide on one piece of pie. "Why don't you get 2?" she asked. I lol-ed right then and there. No, not today. Almost. But not today. One slice would do.

I chose her suggestion, Salty Honey. "Cream?" she asked. Nodding, she added a few dallops of cr éme fraiche to the side of the pie. Handing me the custard-based pie with a glass of soy milk (my request), I made my way to the family-feel, rough/tumble wood table furtherest from the counter. Before I dove in, I looked around and saw a mother with her 3-yr-old girl, both jabbering about today's chores. A couple older gentlemen, wearing worn-looks of old established types. All that was needed to complete the proverbial pie was a hipster and ... oh! That's right. That would be the employees. Cute little hipsters. Friendly, black-framed hipsters.

As the fork cut, I took notice of the last detail before the taste: salty shavings scattered like blossoms.

Here's what you should do: visit Four & Twenty Black Birds. But if you can't, here is the next best thing - and I mean THE NEXT BEST THING. South Brooklyn Post spotted and posted incredible news: the recipe to Salty Honey Pie. Kudos to Lisa M. Collins for the post as well as this gorgeous piece of imagery.

Sirens, Smoke, & Saints

2011-03-18T09:13:00.015-06:00

When I moved here 6 months ago, I was excited at the opportunities of meeting my neighbors. Establishing yourself in a block takes some time... takes some trust... and it takes buying bread from the bakers on your block.

A few weeks ago, I had a BodyTalk session with an incredible friend of mine, Maria. As a body worker, she is in the skilled practice of asking the body what it needs to heal and with gentle body movements, is able to figure out some things that may be preventing the healing. With a now 6-month case of sciatica, I was anxious for some help. During our initial discussion, she spoke of St Francis and his association to animals, but more specifically birds. Since birds are constantly in my head, I thought I would stop by my neighbor's statue-making shop and buy a St Francis.

I went into the shop and since I've had no prior experience buying saints, I browsed the selection. Hundreds. In all shapes and sizes. It's a curious practice, the saint-purchasing, but I don't suppose it's much different than anything we buy that we hope brings bling or fancy or notice to our lives. We adorn our lives with things that we hope reflect our intent... our style... our subtle-innermost.

I found my Francis. He is 4" tall and made of some sort of plastic/plaster. He came in a tiny cardboard box. $10. I pulled out my wallet and gave them my credit card. "We don't take cards," the owner said, "Only cash." Being a bit disgruntled b/c of my intention of having St Francis in my new studio, as my bird summoner, I must have made some sort of "Oh well... I'll come back later" because the owner said, "No. Take it. Right now. Get the cash to me when you can." It struck me as odd and perfectly thoughtful. Was this the kind of neighborhood I was moving into? Again he said, "Really. Just take it. Get the money to me when you can." The mini-statue wasn't going to break him. Not in the least. There were Marys and Jeromes and Pocahontases in any size or shape. In the waxing light and the candle scent I felt the kind of distilling grace you do when somebody does something easily miraculous.

"I'll get the money to you tomorrow...! I promise."

"Don't worry about it," he drawled. "And welcome to the neighborhood."

The act solidified my day. The sky opened up a bit more.

Even with this neighborhood being the perfect charmer, I'm still looking for the lullaby of the sirens (as in the mythological, golden-voiced type)... not the sirens from FDNY. Nearly every morning, I hear them. Some closer. This morning, they seemed right outside.

I went to the window and pulled back our paper-blinds and saw our street, Garnet, filled with fire engines. 4. And about 40 firemen. Neighbors were on the sidewalk with mornings faces and terry-cloth robes and there was a terrible chemical-wash of aroma close to the window. I got dressed and clopped down the stairs and out the door.

The statue-makers shop was burning. And not just slightly. The kind of smoke that is dark black and moves quickly out broken windows. There were two fellows at the far sidewalk, sitting down with oxygen masks. I moved fast, whipped out the iPhone, and then did what we could only do: watch.

Yellow caution tape was being pulled around like mad we were skirted off in any direction except directly in front of the store. The firemen were smashing in windows and it was then that a certain image saw me. It was Mary, sainted and gold-hallowed Mary, in a dark wrap of smoke stained red. Jesus was there too, in another window just beyond the metal latter. The firemen hacked at the glass and pulled hoses into the spaces, knocking down and breaking anything preventing them access to the burning building. Save the people. Save the building.

The good news is everybody got out, right down to the little old lady that was stuck on the fire escape, too weak to get herself down. It reminded me of the good-side of people. It reminded me of Japan. It reminded me why people keep little wax statues close by. We all want to live. And we all hope that if we are trapped and the fire is encroaching and the smoke is suffocating and the water is rising - we hope beyond hope that somebody will rush in to save us.

Japan :: Heart. Break.

2011-03-15T06:46:00.005-06:00

With my heart overwhelmed with thoughts of recovery, dislocation, and endurance, I created this image initially as a response from The Jolly Troop for their reaction to Japan's devastation. Prayers and healing to the survivors and countrymen.

Japan :: NYT Photo Essay

2011-03-14T07:01:00.007-06:00

The Times (via Associated Press) shares a compelling and sobering photo essay of last week's destructive despair in Japan. I can't ever find the words for matters like this. How can words cover hundreds of miles and thousands of lives?

Here are a few that struck at my core. I would encourage you to look at the other images via this link.

meSheeky. YouSheeky?

2011-03-08T05:36:00.010-07:00

One of my favorite people on the planet is visiting NYC this week. I met her at a client's dinner party a number of years back. It's one of those stories where we interacted, I shot a picture of her and her hubby, and then months later we recognized each other in a kalari workshop in Salt Lake City. Mornings, days, weeks, months, and now years later we are dear, dear friends.

Sarah Tomson-Beyer is the cat's meow. She is an internationally acclaimed yoga-instructor of Flowmotion yoga as well as a clothing designer for a smart and swanky line of yoga clothing called meSheeky. I was fortunate to be asked by Sarah to assist with her branding and have enjoyed every mile we've gone together. She is a constant inspiration to me and every conversation I have with her points to the stars. As a guide and friend, I value her spot-on humor and her belief in tuning into life's flow. What does all this mean? If you know me, you know I wouldn't write all of this unless I absolutely believed in her!

She will be teaching a couple of classes in the city. Here are the deets:

MARCH 12 | 10:30-12:30 | Pure Yoga, NYC - East | Flowmotion workshop + meSheeky Trunk Show | $35 members/$40 non-members

MARCH 13 | 11:30-1:30 | Pure Yoga, NYC - West | Flowmotion workshop + meSheeky Trunk Show | $35 members/$40 non-members

Here are a few images of the things we've made together. Clarification: Sarah is the springy-jumpy beauty in the swanky-sheeky skirts! Photography was shot by the fantastic Josh Blumental.

Diptych :: Pretty Valley Sunset / Salt Lake City Summer Clouds

2011-02-10T19:11:00.005-07:00

A successful pairing, this diptych creates a more open space for invention and enjoyment. I'll be making more along this format (large/small) so keep watching. Here's the thing: I don't go out and shoot and think: I'm shooting landscape photography. With all my images, I have the same rule: just shoot what I like to see. Pretty Valley was the magical mountain just beyond the ridge all my years growing up on the mountain. This image is quintessential Pretty Valley, during the summer.

Salt Lake City's landscape and weather are never to be underestimated. With a canvas sky as wide as they come, I've seen some of the most gorgeous sites I've ever beheld (and that's being said for having my fair share of country-jumping).

I hope you enjoy. Please contact me directly if interested in a purchase.

A Party-Patio With A View

2010-09-13T11:22:00.006-06:00

I just moved to New York. It took what all my priorly-lived-and-loved-NY-friends said: time, adjusting, waiting in lines for furniture and cable-service all the while learning new aromas that float on "non-dry" heated air.

Days after we arrived, a friend invited us to attend a patio birthday party for a close friend of hers. My friend thought it would be the perfect opportunity to get to know a few noses in this little, big City.

When we finally found the address near Wall Street (sorry, Apple: your iPhone didn't get me there in the time it said it would), I started chuckling at the not-so-distant future: laughing because I'm not used to "checking in" at the lobby of a residence and being buzzed up an elevator to the pent house floor (does this guy live in a hotel or is just an incredibly glamorous condo association?); laughing because Trump Jr is headed to the same party and is standing next to me, texting - probably to somebody standing on his block - that he owns - 2 blocks away; laughing in the way artists can when you realize everybody else will be wearing Italian-this and French-cut-that and what you're wearing looks like all those things, but it isn't - and because you're an artist, it's socially acceptable.

After being Jeston-ed up and exiting the elevator, we opened a set of double doors to the clichéd and canned descriptor of a view: breath-taking. It was. It did. Breath was pulled out of me by a forcible, amazing visual spread. These kind of views aren't common, when you sit and consider it (hundreds and hundreds of feet from the taxi-ant streets below). They aren't seen by hordes or masses or touring buses full of view-eager stop-ins. This view was special because of it's placement: what you could see was powerful because it was placed with precision.

The evening advanced beautifully with the occasionally awkward, social moments caused by myself (I went back for seconds on the food - the hummus was delightful and the penne, perfect!); but on the whole, there really were open arms to receive and welcome us to this house in the sky, filled with champaign and sushi, and "Smack That" (thanks, Akon and Eminem) - thereby making us welcome and starry-eyed, all over again, to this micro-center of a world.

It was on this giant patio in the windy perfection of 69º where and when my next breath was forcibly taken: blocks away, blazing high into the partially clouded blue night sky were two columns of light, perfectly parallel and just barely divided.

My mood changed.

Even before the party, I was aware of the date that evening, 10 September. But I hadn't expected to be as vertical as I was in that night sky, with the view I was having in the proximity of those luminous shafts of memory.

In a somewhat clumsy, tourist kind of way - and yet with the most intentional feelings of realization and remorse for the memories of people I know - I pulled out my camera phone and clicked the screen shutter release. That little, digital sound of a *click* seemed to have a better way of saying all that I couldn't to those that died and to those that lived. And just as quickly as the snap-shot, the patio party took its proper place and a gale of gratitude blew by.

MJ :: Brooklyn, New York

2010-08-30T15:54:00.005-06:00

This great piece was being painted by Sketch during the Brooklyn Loves Michael Jackson party at Prospect Park, celebrating the birthday of the King of Pop.

Montage BC Featured

2010-08-22T14:49:00.003-06:00

A couple friends of mine passed me a link and low and behold: I saw Montage Creative's business card featured in smashingmagazine.com in an article entitled "Business Card Starter Kit: Showcase, Tutorials, Templates." Thanks to Ben's team at The Mandate Press for the great work and the great deal (check it out if you're looking to have your own business/contact cards created).

Aryan Boy :: Munich, Germany

2010-08-22T12:48:00.003-06:00

Josh & Sam

2010-08-19T09:53:00.022-06:00

Give me a couple years break and this is what you get.

A couple weeks before I moved from Salt Lake City, one of my best friends called in a favor that had been on hold for 2 years. Josh and his kid-brother Sam (the one with the long locks) had wanted to participate in the Daily Documentary Project. Stuff happened. Things juggled. Time skipped by on its merry way and before we knew it, it was 2010.

Josh is on my "A-list" for all things creative, whether its design, furniture, architecture, writing, or motion graphics of some obscure film. A brilliant mind that really should be shared between 5 others, he knocks things out of the park as soon as he begins work. I'm constantly astounded by what he takes on, the scope of what he sees, and his continual desire to improve and change. An ardent lover of design, he has that sticky-nack ability for finding the quality amidst the deluge of mediocrity that seems to abound in creative tanks.

Upon first meeting of Sam, three words came to mind: happy; go; lucky. Currently residing in Canada, he skips borders like most people do cities. A brilliant musician, he's teaching young'uns the tricks of the trade (while also supplying good doses of humor to placate the adolescent temper, I'm sure). Prone to laughter and precision in profession, he makes any gathering or collection of types easy, feel-good, and adventurous. In fact, you should ask and SEE some of his modeling he's done with these key words: water, garbage bags, and au-naturale.

Sad iPod :: Salt Lake City, Utah

2010-07-20T12:06:00.001-06:00

Nazi :: Dachau, Germany

2010-07-16T17:19:00.001-06:00

Owl :: Munich, Germany

2010-07-11T08:14:00.002-06:00

Elephant :: Munich, Germany

2010-07-09T20:44:00.001-06:00

Pan :: Munich, Germany

2010-07-08T22:59:00.003-06:00

surFACES

2010-07-08T22:29:00.008-06:00

The inception of this project happened without me noticing.

Germany. December. 2008. I was doing leap-like visits to different Kristkindlmarkts while staying with my delightful younger sister and her beautiful brood. Wooden toys, whistles, bright red-painted bowls, and metal edelweiss ornaments seemed to belch out in the most attractive and glorious way.

We were just outside of Munich and I was walking through the market by myself, when I came across an illustration on a tent that caused me to stop. It wasn't incredible. It wasn't fancy. And it wasn't something I had seen before. It was original however, and for some reason, it reminded me of Peter Pan.

I pulled out my iPhone and snapped a shot. Not the entire illustration. Just the head part. I framed it so that from my vantage point, it looked like a portrait painted perfectly on a vinyl, tent-taut surface.

Since then I've been seeing faces. Near the beginning of the collecting, the portrait could have been a statue or a sticker, but most often it was a face-drawn piece of "street art." I found that there are a considerable amount of my favorite images on light-posts, USPS drop boxes, any wall close to a public bathroom, and old phone booths.

But the most common thread on these incredible bits of creation were the surfaces they were created on. I suppose I'm fascinated with the "why" and the "where" on each of my finds.

This project will be a sharing of images I've collected and will be collecting. I wish I had recorded the cross streets of each, but hopefully the city and state and/or country will do for now. Like the two previous documentary projects, all images are shot with my tiny iPhone.

So keep your eyes peeled: for this blog AND for the faces on the surfaces around you.

--

Portions of this collection will also be posted on Facebook.

Off The Sidewalk

2010-04-16T20:20:00.005-06:00

On no particular morning last month, I opened the door and stepped onto my door-mat. Nothing unusual in that, only that there was—as if perfectly placed—the most innocent, light, white-ish/gray feather. It was the kind of thing—the kind of placement—that would make me chuckle a bit, look up to the sky and wink, thereby acknowledging the gift.

As the day wore on, I saw 4 additional feathers in my path... on the street. Different times of the day... different places in the city.

When I returned home that evening, I sat down and thought more seriously about what I'd seen and what it all meant. Wings... movement... lift... forward... soaring... flight. I looked up again (this time with quiet peace) and acknowledged the small wings placed in my path.

This image was shot on my walk home this evening. It's a rubber band. I got that silly 'ah! I see you' kind of expression on my face when I saw it and kept walking. I got about 10 feet and decided to turn back. Immediately I began thinking of an image-series of things I find on the ground, on my way between here and there.

This little elastic had something to say.

The Gray Lady

2010-03-21T21:35:00.004-06:00

Almost three weeks ago I was night-walking and came across these iconic letters. Unmistakable and aptly illuminated, I fused my feet to the 'crete and gazed a bit at The Gray Lady. Did you know it originally sold for 1¢/copy?

A little something from the inaugural edition:

We shall be Conservative, in all cases where we think Conservatism essential to the public good; and we shall be Radical in everything which may seem to us to require radical treatment and radical reform. We do not believe that everything in Society is either exactly right or exactly wrong; what is good we desire to preserve and improve; what is evil, to exterminate, or reform.

I'm mostly curious tonight. If you want a little more on NYTimes history, here's something to jump to: Onefifty.

Shot with iPhone

Priceless

2010-03-18T20:11:00.007-06:00

Image capturing is a fantastical thing. Documenting a life is an honor. Finding nuance or gleaning pure human essence has been the most wonderful journey.

Montage Creative started a number of years ago because my dear brother suggested I do something about the way I saw things... about the way I framed a face, a dress, or a hand. He thought I should find a way to give my sight to others because he found value in it. Consequently, my confidence in my gift grew and I decided to jump.

As the years have come and gone, "business" has been something of a ride. Many photographers know the feast or famine seasons. While some succeed, others aren't as fortunate. And with the wide spectrum of types of photography, there are many landscapes for artists to pursue. But not all art equates to a similar monetary values.

Montage Creative's original intent (as it is to this day) was to document personal life... personal living... and somehow capture all the subtleties transferred in glances, celebration, life-questions, and age. I have witnessed the most incredible stories all over the world: from a 12 year old cleaning clothes in a river in the jungles of Guatemala, to capturing the last 2 months of a terminally ill 3 year old. Weddings as well as attempts to save a marriage. Dinner parties, blessings, gut-wrenching poverty and expansive mountain-scapes of wild ambition. I have seen so very much.

So tonight when I came home, I turned the lights off—I sat on my lamb-skin rug and I decided to breathe and think about my intent: what is the desire of my heart in this process of documentary art making?

And within a few minutes, a word came trickling into my head that has turned up on multiple occasions with some past clients but that definitely rises in my heart, head, and eyes every single time I start a new project.

Priceless.

Effective immediately, Montage Creative will implement a new pricing system to all clients, regardless of financial circumstance. Priceless. Or in other words, pay what you can. In times of scarcity, tensions rise because we fear the lack of abundance. We fear that all we cling to will melt away or decay. The truth is, is that it will eventually. However, until that happens, I want to create a place where people know they will receive finest care and interest when wanting to document the most significant times of their lives. I want people to see themselves how I see them: in the most radiant, beautiful existence of life. I want them to understand that value of life and love is of utmost importance. In this regard, I will do all I can to provide that service.

Some may laugh at this decision, thinking it impractical and unwise — that somehow I've cheapened my art or lessened the value of what I do. Maybe this will flop... or maybe nothing will change at all... But something in me believes in something Bigger. Something in me believes I have these eyes and heart for a reason and you are very much apart of that reason.

Here is the truth: I know exactly the value of what I do. I know what I want to do. I want it to reach you.

The truth is... you are priceless.

Please contact me directly if you'd like to learn more, ask me questions, or schedule a Rendezvous. Also, please see Pricing listed above to get the all details.

In abundance...

Dallas Graham

801-755-9137

dallasandrewgraham@gmail.com

When Aluminum Met Branchy

2010-03-15T17:36:00.001-06:00

Outside the place where I live.

Sunday Evening, Avenues

2010-03-14T20:26:00.002-06:00

Walking after meals is something I feel like I can always use more of. We jumped to the Avenues this evening after a baby-shower for a soon-coming infant to our good friends (who happen to own Ekamai - a GREAT Thai mini'strant).

Salt Lake's charmed darling, the Avenues, has a history of collecting an eclectic assortment of homeowners and city dwellers, because they aren't necessarily "downtown-ers"... they are just left of that. The charmed element primarily deals with the assortment in style, color, and situation of any chosen house, if you were to be spun in a circle and point at a visual point of exploration.

TJ and I were fixated for a few minutes at the "after-snow" floral in sidewalk crack, the faint lingerers on knobby, sleep trees, and the maroons of the wetted ground cover: all a wonderful reference for Utah-March color palette.

We noticed this tree. We noticed the ghost pods where something lived, was stored, was harvested, and at some point went the way of the wind.

SHOT WITH IPHONE // CAMERA BAG AP

Tartine, Armory, Magnolia

2010-03-10T18:17:00.012-07:00

You see it happening more and more–people making use of their hand-held iPhones (loaded with filters) to create art or capture history. The playing field becomes even more interesting when you consider what the shooter has to use: light and a lens. Seems like a beginning, if you ask me.

A recent jaunt to NYC harvested some images I was particularly fond of. The first you see was shot at Tartine (located beautifully and perfectly in the West Village). Note the hands and arms of the reader, pouring over her Times and coffee. The lighting was perfect for the shot as well as perfect for the mood: a corner property for all sorts of watching. The drapes you see also cloak the front door (as if it wasn't snuggly already). Before I devoured the almond crescent, the server reminded me: cash only.

Images 2 thru all except the end were in company of modern art lover/dealer Mikell Stringham of Mondo Fine Art. I tagged along side as she jumped through the night, the city, and the shows of the Armory Show. At one point, we found ourselves on an old bay boat, going through gulches of rust and installment art.

The last shot is of the place all have come to love because of it's frosting: Magnolia Bakery. And yes, I ate 3. In one evening. Beat that, Batman.

Being On Board on The Board (AIGA)

2009-09-26T08:07:00.014-06:00

Do you know the feeling when you realize you've made the right decision? I felt that recently in regards to my placement and association with AIGA Salt Lake City. I was fortunate to be asked to remain as the programming director a number of weeks ago and couldn't be happier about the new blood circulating in the board. I toted the camera for obvious reasons.

AIGA is a national organization that stimulates thinking about design and demonstrates its value as a profession and craft. AIGA is also a community where black-rimmed, turtle-necked designers can talk about kerning, ad campaigns, or the shape of the letter "d" without worrying about the quirkiness of the topic.

The folks below are some of the new board members. You'd be astounded at the quantified talent and prowess represented here. I count myself lucky by association. The truth is, they are as down to earth as you can get (without the knee-dirty jeans) and are becoming dear and trusted friends. If you're interested in getting to know the design community in SLC, this is a great place to start! We'd like to have every one of you feeling welcome to any/all of our events. AND we have a new website, so click until your inner-designer is content.

Amy :: 2 JUN 2009

2009-06-18T12:16:00.021-06:00

Jumping from Central Park to the Lower East Side yielded a terrific discovery in this new friend. She had picked the Williamsburg Bridge because of the urban feel, the crossing and stretching of metal, and the zoom-zoom of the "we own the bridge" cyclists, and the fact that she uses it almost every day. The juxtaposition of her body with repetitive beams had a terrific effect (as did her Converse, on those yoga feet) in the composing. Try positioning yourself in the middle of screaming traffic, rushing trains, and speeding cyclists... see how long you can hold crow.

Ali :: 1 JUN 2009

2009-06-16T16:29:00.023-06:00

She wanted something urban but close to the water; green but with plenty of people. She chose one of the extensions of the Hudson River Park and it matched her perfectly. As a modern dancer and a yogi, she spends nearly every hour of her day "in her skin" so-to-speak. And that was easily to pick up as enjoying that magnificent park. She moved fluidly between yoga and dance, then dance and yoga. I think my one of my favorite shots was her balancing on the park bench with an older gentleman directly on her left side. He sat there, gazing at the river, as she deftly ambled into position. Easy. Effortless. Like poetry in motion.

Benj :: 30 MAY 2009

2009-06-15T12:13:00.023-06:00

I met up with him in Brooklyn, on a roof-top peppered with charcoal burning stoves, bottle caps, and rocks that looked like they had been placed "just so." I'd seen a few images of his performances and things clicked more tightly together when we began our session. His movement and motion was deliberate, poised, and slow - like he was looking at it as he was making it. All throughout, his interaction with objects was fresh and curious and my mind kept jumping to "I wonder what's next" as he explored the roof-top. Scaffolding, rocks, metal caps, shirts, and powder. I'm intrigued to see what he creates next because it seems like innovation and object-relativity come as easily as breathing for him. Ben. The Dancer.

Mila :: 31 MAY 09

2009-06-11T16:47:00.020-06:00

She had this place in mind. And like an electric shock of a tic-tock, she made it all happen. When she called me to tell me about the shoot (because she knows how I work), she said, "It's going to blow your mind." I think this place would blow anybody's mind. Located in a secret spot in "somewhere" New York, I met her at the shoot sporting her mat and her long board. Currently, she instructs at Om Yoga Center in Manhattan. I took her class and found the fuzzy-warm zen of a great instructor. And there are other layers, too, worth getting to know: acting, climbing, laughing, and Columbian folk-lore. On top of all that, she remains a true and brilliant friend whom I lean on and soak up on every encounter.

PS :: I think my favorite moment (shown below) was during a "cat" and "cow" series when little stray Tom-Cat snuggled up to her legs... just like it was planned.

Holly :: 9 June 2009

2009-06-09T15:13:00.007-06:00

She is undoubtedly one of my favorite people in the universe... because that's how "big" or "far" I feel when we spend time together. In middle school, we were locker-neighbors during those awkward and finding few years. Time flew, she moved to New York, we lost touch (for who knows why), and then a happenstance meeting with her father at the bank reconnected us. I asked, "How is Holly these days?" He said, "You should ask her," and handed me a bank statement with her email scribbled on it. Long story short, she's here. And there. And everywhere. But today she was with me, crossing through summer-cemeteries and maple tree shadows.

Natural beauty, folks. That's what this is.

Croquet / Norwegian Independence Celebration

2009-05-24T10:58:00.021-06:00

Two things you never turn down: good friends or good food... or good croquet..? Hosted by the dazzling Elizabeth and charming Philip, their annual Norwegian Independence Dinner was a hit. The pair make a dynamic duo: they realize the importance of people and food, properly combined. In sandaled and seersuckering sass, the lot of us dined on dishes as difficult to pronounce as they were to express. The croquet following opened a flood-gate of ruthless roquets, which only spawned hopes of future meetings.

All in all, a perfect Sunday dine.

Katie E :: 9 MAY 2009

2009-05-24T10:42:00.021-06:00

The pretty lady in a blue hat with the black and white dogs. That's who she is.

When we ventured to the Salt Flats, she told me (and showed me) some of her favorite things :: a crushed velvet, sky-blue hat; 2 bounding, lovable dogs; a white dress. Very easy to like and be with, I found my time with her intriguing, refreshing, and relaxed. When not in her physical practice, you'll find her doing her magic with PR or taking care of her canine side-kicks.

There was something wonderfully peaceful and surreal about the white dress, the blue hat, an open sky, and a pair of black/white dogs circling her as she laughed. Book worthy? I think so.

Katie :: 9 MAY 2009

2009-05-12T14:20:00.001-06:00

Katie, 33

Film

Salt Lake City, Utah

Frances :: 8 MAY 2009

2009-05-12T14:18:00.003-06:00

Frances, 27

Writer

Salt Lake City, Utah

Becky Jean :: 20 APR 09

2009-05-08T13:25:00.027-06:00

Today belongs to her.

We shot these a few wks back, at a beginning-budding of Red Butte Gardens. Becky Jeans style and overall taste have always been a wonderful thing to admire. With an atypical approach to the term "wedding dress," she created a beautifully designed gown. Her savy-sleuthing landed the red/white parasol in her hands... perfectly. With a the face of a wood nymph, these images turned out wonderfully in her favor. Simple. Elegant. And lots of natural presence.

Congratulations, Becky Jean!

Le Grand :: Wall Montage

2009-05-08T13:06:00.007-06:00

15 images

It doesn't yell or scream, but it will cascade your attention and emotions. With fifteen image carefully hung, you can't help but sit, stare, and smile at a your new home-gallery.

Print sizes

(2) 11x14

(1) 12x12

(1) 10x10

(1) 8x10

(2) 5x7

(1) 5x5

(3) 4x6

(2) 4x4

(2) 2x3

Le Moyen :: Wall Montage

2009-05-08T13:01:00.005-06:00

11 images

Our medium-sized Wall Montage allows more breadth and depth to your visual experience. Front rooms, entries, or wall shelves fit the 11 images you receive with this package.

Print sizes

(1) 11x14

(1) 10x10

(1) 8x10

(2) 5x7

(2) 4x6

(1) 5x5

(1) 4x4

(2) 2x3

Le Petit :: Wall Montage

2009-05-08T12:55:00.008-06:00

7 images

Ideal for baby rooms, dad's den, and small spaces, Le Petit consists of 7 pre-determined sized images.

Print sizes

(1) 8x10

(1) 5x7

(1) 5x5

(2) 4x6

(1) 4x4

(1) 2x3

Physical Practice Photography

2009-05-04T12:39:00.006-06:00

$225

• 90-minute sitting in an outdoor environment of your choice

• (1) 4x6 or (1) 8.5x11 self-promo piece, designed by Dallas

• 9 digital files of your choice, for professional or personal use

• DVD slideshow of all images of shoot, ready for viewing

• additional files for $10/file

TJ :: Physical Practice Photography

2009-05-04T12:18:00.019-06:00

How does a body do it?

A few weeks ago, an idea lighted upon me. I spend a lot of personal time in physical practices: if it isn't kalari, it's yoga; if it isn't yoga it's running. I'm around a lot of people that are very active and comfortable in their "physical" space. And then to top it, I met the most wonderful fellow a couple months back. He happens to dance for a modern dance company, here in Salt Lake :: Ririe-Woodbury. After seeing his final performance of their season, I sat a bit entranced... thinking about what this human body is capable of.

Bringing some loves together, I've decided to seek out those in physical practices that may need / want some documentary photography of them and their practice. TJ was kind enough to allow me a few hours of photographing him doing what he does best: dance!

So I hope you take a few minutes and glance at these. Get inspired. Get fueled up. Because it's spring, folks, and your limbs are dying to spread and fly.

*Note :: if you happen to be interested in a shoot, check the right side of the blog, under Physical Practice Photography to see what a sitting includes.

Thy :: 29 APR 09

2009-04-30T11:58:00.001-06:00

Thy, 25

Designer

Salt Lake City, Utah

TJ :: 19 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:40:00.002-06:00

TJ, 27

Dancer

Salt Lake City, Utah

Tawni :: 18 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:38:00.001-06:00

Tawni, 33

Nursing Assistant

Salt Lake City, Utah

Julie :: 18 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:37:00.002-06:00

Julie, 35

Loan Officer

Salt Lake City, Utah

Karen :: 18 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:36:00.000-06:00

Karen, 38

Health Insurance Agent

Salt Lake City, Utah

Melissa :: 18 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:35:00.001-06:00

Melissa, 37

Registered Nurse

Salt Lake City, Utah

Mackenzie :: 18 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:34:00.000-06:00

Mackenzie, 18

Student

Salt Lake City, Utah

Rachel :: 18 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:32:00.001-06:00

Rachel, 21

Biochemistry Student

Salt Lake City, Utah

Xavier :: 18 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:31:00.002-06:00

Xavier, 39

Temp Services

Salt Lake City, Utah

Jeff :: 13 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:30:00.001-06:00

Jeff, 20

Communications / Marketing Student

Salt Lake City, Utah

Nathan :: 13 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:28:00.001-06:00

Nathan, 24

Communications Student

Salt Lake City, Utah

Aaron ::13 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:24:00.003-06:00

Aaron, 26

Communications Student

Salt Lake City, Utah

Marty :: 13 APR 09

2009-04-28T08:12:00.003-06:00

Marty, 24

New Media Student

Salt Lake City, Utah

Tatsuya :: 7 MAR 09

2009-03-08T11:02:00.000-06:00

Tatsuya, 22

Student

Salt Lake City, Utah

Brandon :: 7 MAR 09

2009-03-08T11:00:00.001-06:00

Brandon, 21

Furniture Mover

Salt Lake City, Utah

Patty :: 7 MAR 09

2009-03-08T10:59:00.000-06:00

Patty, 59

Journalist

Salt Lake City, Utah

Elizabeth :: 3 MAR 09

2009-03-04T09:25:00.002-07:00

Elizabeth, 25

Chef

Salt Lake City, Utah

Joe, Mallory, Kerstin, Kjarsten :: 1 MAR 09

2009-03-02T08:38:00.002-07:00

Left to right ::

Joe, 22

HIV Counselor

Mallory, 22

Treatment Services Tracker

Kerstin, 22

Veterinary Technician

Kjarsten, 23

Student

Salt Lake City, Utah

Shad :: 27 FEB 09

2009-02-27T13:51:00.002-07:00

Shad, 26

Yoga Instructor

Salt Lake City, Utah

Pierre :: 26 FEB 09

2009-02-27T13:49:00.005-07:00

Pierre, 44

Belgian Chef

Salt Lake City, Utah

Sculpture Set

2009-02-25T17:14:00.007-07:00

This is what I like to have happen: a client calls and asks me to pick some images that will work well as a set. Taken in the Louvre, these images are a *few* of the many from that elevated place. Slaves, angles, and a deer-hunting goddess.

Johnny & Sarah :: 25 FEB 09

2009-02-25T17:08:00.002-07:00

Johnny & Sara, 28 & 24

Students

Salt Lake City, Utah

Rebecca :: 21 FEB 09

2009-02-25T17:02:00.002-07:00

Rebecca, 27

Paralegal

Salt Lake City, Utah

Taylor :: 20 FEB 09

2009-02-21T17:16:00.003-07:00

Taylor, 24

Server

Salt Lake City

Aleks :: 17 FEB 09

2009-02-21T17:13:00.004-07:00

Aleks, 16

Student

Salt Lake City

Professionals, India

2009-02-14T07:33:00.016-07:00

When I visited India for the first time, four years ago, an acquaintance said, "In India, all work is honorable." That conversation led two a couple hour discussion about the quizzical nature of poverty and the limited means of eeking out a living in an almost limitless changing populace.

The day before I left Kannur, I *finally* allowed myself some photo-time. I gave myself a few hours and thought about what it was that I really wanted to see. I wasn't going to be able to shoot endlessly. I only had a one roll of film. So, amid all the colors, and textures, and noises, and cattle, and saris, and beautiful babies, I chose Street Professionals. These were *happy strangers* — very much helpful with this project. I'm thankful to them for their help. Beautiful people.

These were all shot either directly on the street or their shop/kiosk's door was directly on the street.

The professions, from top to bottom :: security guard, grocery clerk, rickshaw driver, nut salesman, fresh food drink salesman, toy shop owner, produce salesman, produce salesman, rice salesman, bus attendant, bead salesman, jeweler.

Ganesha, India

2009-02-14T07:25:00.007-07:00

If I had been sporting my camera with me, every second, I would have had loads more of these. Sweet, adoring, lucky Ganesha. Everybody's favorite. Here are a few places I found him: a bus, a jewelry shop, my roomie's night stand, and a rickshaw.

Michael :: 11 FEB 09

2009-02-14T07:15:00.002-07:00

Michael, 20

Student

Salt Lake City, Utah

Laura :: 8 FEB 09

2009-02-14T07:11:00.004-07:00

Laura, 30

Writer

Salt Lake City, Utah

Faces, India

2009-02-09T08:44:00.009-07:00

These are the face of the early morning van honks, the chai tea, the tasty meals, the one-on-one question and answer sessions, the rides to the ayurvedic doctor, the rick-saws from the city to the beach, the hours of massage treatments, the even-more hours in the pit, and the late-night drop ins (just to see if we were okay). Lasting. Impacting. Unforgettable. And a feeling of new family.

Wes :: 5 FEB 09

2009-02-09T08:32:00.003-07:00

Wes, 30

Chemical Engineer

Salt Lake City, Utah

Andrew :: 3 FEB 09

2009-02-04T09:09:00.003-07:00

Andrew, 24

Wilderness Therapy Instructor

Salt Lake City, Utah

Butchart Gardens :: 30 AUG 08

2009-02-03T21:40:00.039-07:00

During 2008, I saw two of the world's most well-known and distinguished gardens, thanks to my friend Christian. The first was in June, in England... the Kue Gardens (see earlier posts!). In August, I ventured to Seattle for a week, hopped a ferry and drove to a little garden place, just outside of Victoria on Vancouver Island, BC. Only, it wasn't so little. When I approached the first vista of the Butchart Gardens, my body halted and I began to cry. I'm a baby for beauty.

Colors, textures, patterns, light, size,... all over-dazzlingly fragrant and beautiful. Surely 'variety' and 'difference' are apart of Nature's overall design.

I didn't do this. I just shot the image — I just pushed a button and adjusted some knobs on a plastic box that opens to the light. Something or Someone higher, however, arranged these petals... just so. Thank Heavens for that.

Diego :: 2 FEB 09

2009-02-03T15:16:00.002-07:00

Diego, 40

Electrical Engineer

Salt Lake City, Utah

Tina :: 1 FEB 09

2009-02-03T15:04:00.001-07:00

Tina

Graduate Student

Salt Lake City, Utah

Megan :: 31 JAN 09

2009-02-03T15:03:00.002-07:00

Megan, 29

World Development

Salt Lake City, Utah

Nick :: 30 JAN 09

2009-01-31T00:46:00.004-07:00

Nick, 22

Student

Salt Lake City, Utah.

Ruthann :: 29 JAN 09

2009-01-30T11:12:00.001-07:00

Ruthann, 20

Bakery Assistant

Salt Lake City, Utah

Holly :: 28 JAN 09

2009-01-28T21:46:00.003-07:00

Holly, 33

Unemployed

Salt Lake City, Utah

Waiting, Italy

2009-01-28T15:59:00.013-07:00

With what seemed like "seconds in Florence," these were some of the whole that I left with. Four hours of winter-freeze breathing as we patiently awaited the Uffizi.

Yesterday I had a discussion with a mighty-camera-lover about "a fixed lens." Nothing is better, right? It may take time (and frozen fingers) to attach and reattach lenses, but the end result always shocks me.

Here are a few folks whose soul I have stolen. They'll never know they never knew.

Lastly... the atmospheric air. No words, really. Just got to breathe it and see it to know.

Leland :: 27 JAN 09

2009-01-28T10:14:00.001-07:00

Leland, 26

Stylist

Salt Lake City, Utah

Frank :: 26 JAN 09

2009-01-27T14:12:00.001-07:00

Frank, 47

Clothier

Salt Lake City, Utah

Faiths, India

2009-01-26T09:16:00.005-07:00

Every morning, en route to the pit, we drove past this old, beat-up, dumpster truck. It had a flat bed with boards planked up around it. Like other motorized vehicles in Kannur, this truck had been hand-painted with decorative elements extolling gods and wishing luck to the pedestrian viewer. The images that screamed me to stop were these three. Each on a separate panel of the rear tail-gate. The craft here — in my book— is delightful, whimsical, and poignant. Tolerance. Acceptance. And peace.

Shot with the Holga.