splatteroflight

Stabilified

2010-07-31T22:09:00.001-05:00

The Impossible Project has managed to stabilize their PX600 Silver Shade film and graduate it from the First Flush. These are from my first set with the more stable film.

Black in Back

2010-07-17T16:33:00.001-05:00

My first B&W roll in the Holga managed to eat both the sponges, resulting in multiple anomalies. But hey, that's the fun of a Holga. And I do actually like how a lot of these turned out, especially the double-exposures in the second and third shot. The fourth shot looks like it might be a double-exposure, but it's actually a single exposure taken very close to a window. Most of what showed up is a reflection of the scene across the street, but you can also see the gravel ground that was through the window. It would have been a little more successful if I hadn't gotten part of my own reflection in the shot.

Holga Debut

2010-07-09T15:32:00.002-05:00

Here are the winners from my first ever Holga roll. At first I wasn't too excited about any of them, but after a little ruminating, I do really dig these six shots.

First Flush Textural Experiments

2010-05-31T22:08:00.001-05:00

Here are some experimental texture shots with the PX600 "First Flush" film.

First Flush Ferris Wheel

2010-05-28T22:04:00.000-05:00

This is the first reasonably successful photo I've managed to get with the Impossible Project's PX600 "First Flush" instant film.

The Visitor

2009-02-27T22:20:00.001-06:00

"Over the course of about an hour I saw quite a smattering of people comprising various shapes, sizes, ages, ethnicities, social statuses, and fashion sensibilities. There were some who were clearly planted there for the entire evening and others who just hung around a few minutes, but they all stopped to check out the drum circle at least for a time. There was no pretense, no segregation, and no order at all really...just a bunch of people loosely, but genuinely sharing this experience. It struck me as kind of a dynamic collage...a random, constantly changing collection of individuals set to the driving, often chaotic drum beats. And it was one of the most beautiful things I've observed in a long time."

I wrote those words a few years ago about an encounter that I had with a drum circle in the U-City Loop. Although I've experienced drum circles in the Loop many times, that particular day remains one of my favorite St. Louis memories. The combination of what I was dealing with internally, the unrepeatable collection of individuals taking it in, and the visceral power of the drums in my ear created an emotional experience that was wholly unique. To my pleasant surprise, I was carried right back to that memory by the 2008 film, The Visitor.

The Visitor stars Richard Jenkins as Walter Vale, a longtime college professor and widower from Connecticut who leads a closed and mundane life. When Walter goes to New York City to present at a conference, he makes the startling discovery that a young immigrant couple has taken up residence in his rarely-used downtown apartment. Tarek, the young Syrian and his Senegalese companion, Zainab, are equally surprised by Walter's appearance, believing they were legitimately renting the apartment from someone who presumably was capitalizing on Walter's long absence. This awkward personal collision disrupts Walter's self-imposed banality and sets the course for a poignant personal journey.

Character studies like The Visitor are only as good as their lead actor and Richard Jenkins' Oscar-nominated performance really delivers. Prior to his New York trip, Walter is exposed as a solitary, dispassionate man, whose strongest desire is to avoid being inconvenienced. While this might seem like a repellent personality, Jenkins brings a level of sympathy to Walter that keeps us invested in the character. A brief, but effective shot early in the film strikingly summarizes Walter's cold existence: we see him eating lunch in a cafeteria, sitting lifelessly by himself at a round table big enough for six. The overhead camera angle further reinforces the lonely image, placing us in a position of distant, clinical observation.

However, thanks to Zainab and Tarek, we slowly begin to move closer to Walter. Tarek in particular, has a subtle, yet profound effect on Walter as they form an unlikely friendship over the djembe. When Tarek begins to teach Walter how to play the African drum, Walter finds a passion for the rhythm and at the same time, begins to experience the human connection that he'd been avoiding for so long. Midway through the film, Walter participates in a drum circle and we are treated to a shot that directly contrasts with the earlier cafeteria scene: a tight close-up of Walter's hands beating on the djembe with a line of fellow drummers extending into the background. Now we are an intimate participant in Walter's newfound passion, sharing in the rhythmic connection he has found. Walter ultimately discovers meaning in more than just a new musical hobby, but I won't risk spoiling the rest of the story.

The Visitor doesn't jump out and grab you with heavy dramatic tension. Instead, it pulls you steadily into the lives of the characters and leaves you with an emotional response that feels anything but cheap. It is subtly moving, without being trite or overly sentimental. By the end of the film, I was carried right back to my own drum circle scene, not merely by the superficial similarities, but by the deeper connection between Walter's self-discovery and my memorable experience. Walter and I both found the challenging and life-giving beauty of connection that transcends affinity. In that, The Visitor succeeds as a wonderful cinematic expression of genuine community.

Lumens (part 7)

2008-07-04T23:39:00.009-05:00

After a long hiatus, I'm back with another batch of open shutter experiments for the Lumens series. (Despite the date, not all of the images exclusively contain fireworks though that was the source for most of the light).

Shrinky Dinks

2007-10-24T17:55:00.000-05:00

Remember Shrinky-Dinks? Reminiscing about them has inspired my creative side. I've been trying to devise an activity for young children involving more hazards than using a hot oven to make brightly-colored plastic pieces that come out looking just like hard candy, sized to lodge snugly in a toddler's throat.

So far, all I've got is a variation of Laser Tag, called Taser Tag. I don't think it can beat Shrinky Dinks though. The bar is just too high.

Sweet Tea vs. Green Tea

2007-10-24T16:47:00.000-05:00

who would win in a fight?

Yes, it's the long awaited return of "Who would win in a fight?" This time it's Sweet Tea, hailing from America's deep south, squaring off against Green Tea, the Asian sensation. Green Tea ought to be a little scared going into this one, as Sweet Tea obviously has considerable hatred toward anyone who is not white. Sweet Tea would probably start out pummeling Green Tea in a sugar-fueled, racist rage, but then find himself baffled by Green Tea's mystical ability to self-heal. Green Tea would take advantage of Sweet Tea's confusion, executing a series of fierce martial arts moves that would leave Sweet Tea all dried up.

Lower your confederate flags to half-mast, because Green Tea wins!

Ran

2007-09-28T17:49:00.000-05:00

I will admit right up front that I know very little about Japanese cinema. Akira Kurosawa is virtually the only Japanese director that I've been reasonably exposed to, but what an exposure it has been! Over the last few years he has easily become one of my favorite filmmakers from anywhere. His films are generally considered to have the most "western" (hemisphere, not film genre) feel of the major Japanese directors, contributing largely to his international appeal. For awhile, I wondered if I might get kicked out of the film geek club because I latched onto the easiest of Japanese filmmakers for a westerner to appreciate, but I've since overcome that silly spark of shame. Great cinema is great cinema and Kurosawa has created some of the best I've ever experienced.

In Ran, Kurosawa reinterprets Shakespeare's King Lear in a feudal Japanese setting. Tatsuya Nakadai gives a memorable performance as Hidetora, a Japanese lord who misjudges the loyalties of his three sons and unwisely abdicates his kingdom to the eldest. His decision sets off a tragic storm of infighting, betrayal, revenge, and war, leading to his own descent into madness and grave regret.

Kurosawa paints an ugly, but poignant picture of humanity, expressed most powerfully in a striking sequence near the middle of the film. Hidetora, banished from his own kindgom, is holed up in one of his former castles. The armies of Hidetora's two oldest sons attack the stronghold in order to push their father out completely. Kurosawa depicts the battle with an extended montage showing the bloody deaths of Hidetora's personal guard while Hidetora retreats to the top of the main tower, slowly losing all hope. The only sound throughout the entire montage is the orchestral swelling of sorrowful, yet militant strings. Kurosawa's use of color here is powerful, as the dark and hazy battlefield is splashed with the bright yellow and red banners worn by each attacking soldier. The juxtaposition of beautifully sad music and splashes of bright color set against violently extreme imagery reflects what is in every human's heart: goodness and beauty, horribly distorted by utter depravity.

Unfortunately, Kurosawa's Ran offers little redemption in this tragic vision of human existence. Near the end of the film, two characters share an exchange that is as thematically explicit as dialogue can be. One cries out to the gods, questioning their existence and cursing them for their cruelty. The other replies, "Stop it! Do not curse the gods! It is they who weep. In every age they've watched us tread the path of evil, unable to live without killing each other. They can't save us from ourselves." This is certainly a grim conclusion, but thankfully, one that falls just short of the truth. What Ran does not depict is the hope that does exist for salvation from ourselves: a God who does indeed weep watching us tread the path of evil, but offers another path full of grace and light. In all of its epic, cinematic poetry, Ran gives us the bad news, but ends before giving us the good news. Even so, it remains a gripping, powerful film and is certainly the masterwork of the late period in Kurosawa's long career.

Inflatable

2007-09-15T18:31:00.000-05:00

Some brightly-colored images from the Great Balloon Race.

Black Snake Moan

2007-09-06T17:41:00.000-05:00

Generally, I only end up commenting on movies that I really enjoy. Sometimes though, it's fun to analyze what makes a less-than-stellar film ineffective. Black Snake Moan is one such movie that just didn't work for me. I really wanted to like it. It had many things going for it that should have made it a personal favorite: Samuel L. Jackson, a blues music motif, and a redemptive theme. Yet none of those elements were able to redeem this film's poor execution.

Black Snake Moan takes place in a small-town farming community. Christina Ricci plays Ray, a young woman afflicted with severe nymphomania that causes her to cheat on her boyfriend and be used by men all over town. Ray's boyfriend, Ronnie, played surprisingly well by Justin Timberlake, carries his own affliction: clinical anxiety. While he is away on duty for the National Guard, Ray goes on a drug and sex binge, ending up scantilly-clad and beaten within an inch of her life on the side of road. She is found by a local farmer and blues musician, Lazarus, played by Sammy J. He takes her in to help heal her physical wounds and eventually makes it his mission to cure her of her psychological sickness as well.

That set-up sounds pretty good, doesn't it? The concept seems to provide ample opportunity for interesting relationships to develop and grow: a strong paternal relationship between Sammy J. and Ray as well as a repaired relationship between Ray and her boyfriend, highlighted by open, mutual support for each other's psychological challenges. In fact, the movie attempts to develop those exact relationships, but unfortunately, it comes off forced and off-center, rather than natural and convincing. I can only blame this on the direction (and perhaps partially on the writing), because the performances in the film are all pretty strong.

The major flaw of the film, for me, was that the character development was far too weak. I never felt especially connected to any of the characters and was never drawn into the supposed relationships between them. In a film that deals with heavy issues such as sexual abuse, anxiety, and infidelity, character development and emotional involvement of the audience are essential. While I was impacted by a couple of well-crafted scenes, the film as a whole lacked a strong emotional arc and simply fell flat. The heavily-marketed scenario of a barely-clothed white girl chained to an older black man's radiator, came off as a cheap gimmick, rather than a genuine, plot-advancing element. The use of the blues in the film also seemed tacked on, when it could have had a much more meaningful juxtaposition against the lives of the main characters.

I applaud the filmmakers for attempting to tell a story of restoration and grace, but many films have done so much more convincingly than Black Snake Moan. This one will just frustrate you with its unrealized potential and leave you with a case of the bad film blues.

Things You Might See...

2007-07-28T18:27:00.000-05:00

...on a winery tour.

Once

2007-07-19T21:30:00.000-05:00

Near the end of Willa Cather's book, My Antonia, the title character says to her old friend, "Ain't it wonderful, Jim, how much people can mean to each other?" That same sentiment is brilliantly celebrated in Once, the latest film from director John Carney.

Once has a fairly uncomplicated premise: an Irish street musician meets a young, Czech woman and we experience the development of their unique and moving relationship over the course of one week in Dublin. Many aspects of the movie are notably simple - the monosyllabic title, the unnamed main characters referred to in the credits only as Guy and Girl, the cinema verité style, and the rather brief running time, to name just a few. And yet, in all of its simplicity, Once manages to achieve more depth and emotional significance than considerably more ambitious movies have been able to muster.

Once is a musical unlike any other musical I have seen. The characters do not sing lines of dialog to each other. Instead, when Guy and Girl play and sing in Once, they do so simply as musicians creating music, much as you might see in a biopic of a famous crooner. But through the lyrics, melodies, harmonies, and physical expressions in their songs, Guy and Girl subtly reveal much about themselves and the story that the movie tells. The songs are another layer woven into the fabric of the film, with words that dance in and out of each character's past experiences and present emotions. This music is much more than a mere aesthetic element to enhance the movie. It is the very heart of the film and the affect is pitch perfect.

Once is also a romance unlike the traditional romantic stories that so often make it to the big screen. The connection that develops between Guy and Girl is achingly meaningful and yet it transcends our expectations and typical romantic notions. Some might find it bittersweet, but I found it to be both genuine and inspiringly hopeful. Sometimes connections develop between people that are as profound as they are brief. These connections are rich with unforgettable moments, overwhelming emotions, and sincere beauty, but they are not intended to be lasting. Instead, they are intended to move each person in the direction that they are supposed to go. The first time that Guy and Girl sing together, they harmonize beautifully and poignantly in the chorus, singing, "Take this sinking boat and point it home..."

Those simple words describe perfectly the romance of Once. Ain't it wonderful how much people can mean to each other?

Su·pre·mi·um

2007-06-22T10:27:00.000-05:00

i can't believe it's not a real word...

su·pre·mi·um
adj.
1. better than of the best of the greatest ever

usage example:
If your dad is the best, then my dad is supremium.

Strangers on a Train

2007-06-22T10:24:00.000-05:00

Forgive me if I gush for moment over Alfred Hitchcock. Objectively, it's pretty safe to say that he is one of the most prolific and talented filmmakers in the (relatively short) history of cinema. He was the definition of a visionary with an incredible ability to see an entire movie in his head before ever shooting a thing. Personally, he is simply one of my favorite directors, because his films almost always make for a captivating and memorable experience.

Strangers on a Train is the first in a string of exceptional releases from Hitchcock in the 1950s. I place it in the second-tier of his canon, not quite at the masterpiece level of films like Vertigo and Shadow of a Doubt, but still very, very good. The premise is fairly simple: two men, Guy and Bruno, have a chance meeting on a train. In the course of their conversation, Bruno playfully suggests a murder-swapping plot to get rid of an expendable person in each of their lives - the father Bruno hates and Guy's manipulative, unfaithful wife. Since they are strangers with no connection, there would be no reason to suspect either of them in the respective murders. Guy patronizes Bruno's idea and laughs it off, assuming that he can't be serious. But Guy soon learns that his assumption was very wrong, when his wife turns up dead and Bruno comes calling for Guy to hold up his end of the "agreement."

This film has much to appreciate - from the shadowy cinematography to the well-crafted tension for which Hitchcock is so well-known. But when I watched the film again recently, I was struck by something else entirely that I had never really considered before. Whether intentional or not, Strangers on a Train makes an interesting comment on manhood through the character of Guy.

From the beginning of the film, Guy is portrayed as passive and weak. This is established in his interaction with Bruno on the train. Though he clearly is not interested in engaging Bruno for very long, he allows Bruno to monopolize the entire train ride. At the end of their encounter, when Bruno asks him what he thinks of the murder-swapping idea, Guy gives only a patronizing, non-confrontational response. The whole mess that follows is a direct result of Guy's inability to cut their conversation short and to make a definitive, genuine response to Bruno's question about swapping murders.

Guy's weakness is further highlighted in the relationship with his wife. We learn that she cheats on him frequently, has been impregnated by another man, and intends to stay married to Guy only for the money that he is bringing in as a pro tennis player. Guy has apparently allowed her to manipulate and emasculate him time and again. Rather than facing these issues with his wife and addressing them directly, he ran to another woman for comfort and validation. His response to the final conversation with his wife, in which she reveals that she is not going to file for divorce, is to call his mistress and pitch an angry, childish fit.

Throughout the second act of the film, Guy continues his passivity, doing his best to avoid Bruno and hide the reality of the situation from himself and those around him. Only when he reveals the truth to his mistress, Ann, do we begin to see signs of a transformation that is fully realized in the tennis match in the third act. At the start of the match, the tennis announcers state what has been shown to us throughout the film - that Guy's typical approach is to lay back and be passive. But in this match, he becomes uncharacteristically aggressive, not allowing his opponent to dictate the play. It is the starting point of a thrilling final sequence in which Guy finally shows initiative, risking his freedom and safety in an effort to expose the truth and prove his innocence. In the midst of fighting for his life and his freedom, Guy saves a young boy from severe injury and possibly death. No doubt this is intended to amplify the tension of the scene and draw a clear line between Guy's character and that of Bruno. However, this sacrificial act is also the culmination of his growth as a man into a strong initiator who is willing to take necessary risks for the sake of truth and the good of others.

Did Hitchcock or the screenwriters really set out to make a film in which the main character is an exploration of what it means to be a man? I doubt it. I believe most of what I wrote about was intended primarily for dramatic effect rather than thematic expression, but the theme is a natural byproduct that peaks out from behind the shadows. Guy's turn toward being a man of initiative and strength certainly wasn't entirely pure. It was motivated primarily by self-preservation, but then, my own personal growth often begins in self-interest and so it does for most of us. Somewhere in the process though, I find myself moving beyond self-interest into shades of a masculine identity that is good for more than myself, just as Guy did on the carousel. His unselfish act to save the boy showed a glimmer of the masculine identity that men have been created to fulfill, typified by selfless sacrifice and confident initiative.

The Double Life of Veronique

2007-06-05T16:41:00.000-05:00

i will openly admit that i really didn't know what to think when the closing credits started to roll on krysztof kieslowski's the double life of veronique. this is a gorgeously-shot, completely immersive film that unapologetically leaves the viewer with many unanswered questions.

the storyline follows two women, played by the same actress, who share a mysterious mental and emotional connection, despite having never met. the most apparent aspect of their subconscious connection is that veronique, the young french woman, seems to make decisions based on the parallel experiences of her polish counterpart, weronika, without consciously knowing why. the first act of the film follows weronika almost exclusively as she begins her singing career. After a dramatic and significant event in weronika's life, the film turns to veronique for the final two acts, focusing primarily on her uniquely developing romantic relationship with a children's author.

the double life of veronique is so rich and densely-woven that i found myself getting lost in all of the sensory and thematic layers. the cinematography is striking, with many memorable shots exhibiting a surreal and beautifully disorienting quality. the camera exposes a number of fascinating visual motifs as the film progresses - windows, reflections, and certain color associations, just to name a few. music plays a signficant role as well in the surreal connection between weronika and veronique. many musical cues throughout the film provide potential clues in unlocking the mystery of this film's meaning.

and it is, most definitely, a mystery - at least it is to me after seeing the film only once. kieslowski is known for creating films that ask questions, rather than make statements and the double life of veronique is no exception. (in fact, it is perhaps the strongest example). he gives the viewer so much to process in this film and yet maintains almost complete ambiguity, leaving it open to any number of interpretations. as i continue to ponder and even revisit the film, i'm sure that my own interpretations will begin to take shape. in the meantime, i am haunted by its questions and anxious to sink back into the double life of veronique.

Solar Study

2006-11-16T22:55:00.000-06:00

Continuing my fascination with light, I captured these images of the sun from Point Loma in California.

Going Coastal (part 2)

2006-11-16T22:48:00.000-06:00

These first two images were taken on a beautiful, hazy evening in Balboa Park. Of all my photography to date, that silhouette image is my absolute favorite.

I just love the dynamic quality of this water splashing against the rocks in La Jolla.

Going Coastal (part 1)

2006-11-15T22:44:00.000-06:00

These two images, one of the pacific ocean at dusk and the other of the San Diego night skyline, were taken from Coronado Island in California.

Haunting the Highlands

2006-10-06T11:57:00.000-05:00

I took these surreal photos on the first night of the Highland Games this year, during the calling of the clans.

Ex·cel·i·bate

2006-09-29T13:29:00.000-05:00

i can't believe it's not a real word...

ex·cel·i·bate
adj.
1. really, really good at remaining single
2. abstaining from spreadsheet usage, especially by reason of a moral vow

usage examples:
the reason you're the most excelibate person i know is that women tend to go for guys who, you know, shower regularly.

i do my budget with pencil and paper because i'm excelibate.

Older and Wiser

2006-09-08T13:28:00.000-05:00

i turned 27 this week. according to every restaurant comment card, church visitor form, and random questionnaire with age-range checkboxes, i'm now officially in my late twenties. no longer do i fit in at any function labeled "young adult." i can't possibly be an "old adult" though, so i guess that means i must be an "adolescent adult." with this new life stage comes a greater level of maturity that i think people are seeing in me, because they're alway saying, "that was a pretty adolescent thing to do." personal growth sure is fulfilling when other people notice.

Targeting the Verile Market

2006-09-08T00:16:00.000-05:00

lately i've noticed an inordinate amount of commercials on television related to erectile dysfuction. it seems to me that the corporate pharmecutical conspirators behind this massive effort to Viagrafy the male American population have remained oblivious to a very lucrative market on the other side of the proverbial coin. what about all of those young, single men whose all-too-healthy erectile function doesn't jive with their well-intentioned desire to remain sexually pure before their wedding night?

that's where i come in with a brilliant idea for a new product called AbstiMints. AbstiMints contain chemical and hormonal ingredients that physiologically eliminate a man's ability to participate in carnal knowledge. And they go one step further, giving him such bad breath that no self-respecting woman would even consider giving him a kiss, let alone giving him her whole body. you might be thinking, "if that's true, then AbstiMints must taste pretty bad," but in fact, they're uniquely designed to taste great, while still causing halitosis. AbstiMints simply have every angle covered to ensure prenuptual celibacy for any man.

this idea can't miss. i'm going to make millions.

Good All The Time

2006-09-04T11:55:00.000-05:00

since i love rootbeer and vintage things, this faded advertisement was an image that i couldn't pass up.

How Can I Tell...

2006-07-19T13:27:00.000-05:00

when you're as wise as i am, people often ask you the really hard questions like, "where does the universe end?" and, "what is the meaning of life?"

no one has ever actually asked me either of those, but another doozy that i get a lot is, "how can i tell whether i'm right-handed or left-handed?"

well, here's the easiest way that i've been able to come up with: the next time you're in a public bathroom where there is a soap dispenser on each side of the sink, see which dispenser you go for. if it's the one to the right of the sink, then you're right-handed. if it's the one to the left of the sink, then you're left-handed. if it's neither, then you disgust me.

Paper Clip vs. Staple

2006-06-28T13:27:00.000-05:00

who would win in a fight?

i bet you're thinking it's staple. i mean, the staple is specifically designed to be sharp enough to pierce through a stack of paper. paper clip, on the other hand, just hugs the paper like a scared little girl squeezing her daddy's leg.

here's what you're overlooking though: with a little bit of bending, paper clip has also been known to pick locks. that kind of nefarious activity must have landed paper clip in the clink, where it would have spent years lifting weights and toughening up just to survive. after all of that, would a puny staple even have a chance against the hardened criminal that is paper clip? no way. paper clip wins (and ends up back in prison for assault).

BBQ Trivia

2006-06-19T13:26:00.000-05:00

the other day, i learned something really interesting from a radio commercial for syphilis. according to the ad, st. louis consumes more barbeque sauce than any other city in the united states.

you may be asking yourself, "what does that have to do with syphilis?" unfortunately, i can't help you. i don't even know for sure what syphilis is, but apparently it's also very popular in st. louis. i'm not surprised, considering they advertise for it on the radio. they kept saying how easy it is to get, but i couldn't actually figure out where to get it from. as far as i can tell, your best bet is to check for syphilis at the grocery store next to the barbeque sauce.

Lumens (part 6)

2006-05-17T11:52:00.000-05:00

yet another in the Lumens series. i have pretty much run out of things to say about them by now.

Ri·stu·pid

2006-05-02T13:25:00.000-05:00

i can't believe it's not a real word...

ri·stu·pid
adj.
1. term used to describe something that is as ridiculous as it is stupid

usage example:
In an ironic turn, "ristupid" was voted the ristupidest fake word ever to be made up by anyone.

Renewal

2006-04-21T13:25:00.000-05:00

with an unapologetic lack of profundity, i simply have to praise You for being a God who doesn't fix things, but instead, who revels in taking what is broken and making it into something entirely new.

Juice Box vs. Pop Can

2006-04-13T13:24:00.000-05:00

who would win in a fight?

(this is the first in a new series where i decide who would win in a fight between an arbitrary pair of inanimate objects)

tough call. Juice Box has that straw to easily squirt fruit juice all over Pop Can. but if Pop Can shakes himself up, he can crack open and drench Juice box with a much stronger blast of foamy pop. plus, pop is acidic right? so pop would eat through cardboard way before juice would eat through metal. Pop Can wins.

Ethically Challenged

2006-03-22T12:23:00.000-06:00

last week, the massive corporation that i work for held an assembly of thousands of employees to talk about ethics. from my seat, i had a direct view of the people doing sign language up front for the hearing-impaired. i have to say, there's something about sign language that is really fascinating and beautiful to me (especially during a monotonous ethics presentation), but that's not really where i'm going with this. during the program, someone on one of the videos used the phrase, "people aren't stupid, blind, deaf and dumb." i couldn't help but wonder if that was a little awkward for the interpreters to have to sign.

on a somewhat related note, what's the ethical standard for an able-bodied person using the wheelchair-accessible stalls in the bathroom at work? is that the equivalent of parking in a handicapped spot? that wasn't covered in our ethics training, but my conscience tells me it's a pretty low thing to do. then again, what if it's the only open stall within a 200 foot radius and you've got a potentially disabling bowel situation going on? do you qualify then?

that's a moral quandry i hope i'm never forced to solve.

Am·bi·dext·ros·it·y

2006-03-21T12:22:00.000-06:00

i can't believe it's not a real word...

am·bi·dext·ros·it·y
n.
1. someone with an exceptional amount of multi-faceted skill
2. a creation requiring extraordinarily multi-faceted talent

usage examples:
gerald can fix every kind of car ever made - he's a mechanical ambidextrosity.

this ambidextrosity of a film came together through the collaboration of so many amazing artists.

NOTE: This should not be confused with ambidexterity (the quality of being ambidexterous), which is a real word, but has a significantly different meaning. I refuse to believe that ambidextrosity isn't a real word (even though I did make it up). According to a recent study, "ambidextrosity" makes way more sense than 87% of real words in the english language.

Walk the Line

2006-03-08T12:21:00.000-06:00

i'm just going to get this out of the way right now: there's nothing i can possibly say about Johnny Cash here that hasn't already been said. the man's music is legendary and rightly so. it is simultaneously simple and completely distinct, raw and well-developed, accessible and challenging, understated and powerful. but you know all of that. his music has been fascinating people for 50 years.

the life of the man who created that music is equally as fascinating and Walk the Line explores a dramatic chunk of it. the movie has already won and continues to win all kinds of critical awards, so i'm sure i have as much original insight into it as i do into his music. however, that won't stop me from reflecting on the film a little.

although i came into the theater already knowing some of the key details of Cash's life, i still found myself engaged throughout. that's a testament to the much-lauded performances of Joaquin Phoenix as Johnny Cash and Reese Witherspoon as June Carter. the events portrayed in the film begin in Cash's childhood, and span well into the heart of his musical career. but Cash's rise to musical fame is only the fabric onto which the prominent threads of his damaging addiction to drugs and his tumultuous love for June Carter are woven throughout most of the narrative and hemmed together at the climax of the film.

every biopic must choose which details of a complex human life to focus on and which to ignore. they can never cover all the complexities of the real story and in that sense, it is difficult for a biopic to be entirely satisfying. Walk the Line certainly followed this trend, in that it wasn't perfectly satisfying for me, but it did come close. it mostly made the right choices and focused on the details of Cash's life that gave genuine insight into his humanity without reducing him to a caricature (any more than he had been prior to this film, anyway). my biggest complaint, and it's a minor one, is that more development could have been devoted to Cash's relationship with his first wife as well as June Carter's relationship woes with her previous husbands. a little more fleshing out of those relationships could have added a slightly richer dimension to the overall story, i think, but even without that, the film stands strong.

the ultimate strength of the film for me is that the great performances, appropriate scripting choices and solid direction come together to honestly explore the theme of beautiful redemption in the midst of intense and horrible brokenness. it's a theme that is so true to Cash's life experience and reflects a faith that endured well beyond the details portrayed in the film.

Hy·poth·es·ism

2006-02-07T12:20:00.000-06:00

i can't believe it's not a real word...

hy·poth·es·ism
n.
1. a much better and smarter-sounding way of saying hypothesis

usage example:
i don't yet have enough data to confirm my hypothesism.

for you etymologists out there, 'hypothesism' is the cooler, older brother who cast an impossible-to-live-up-to shadow over younger brother, 'hypothesis' who, in a fit of jealous rage, made a deal with the mafia to forever suppress 'hypthothesism' as a word. but now, older brother is back, baby boy! here's some sample dialogue to try out with your scientist friends:

YOU: "are you working on some experiments to validate your latest hypothesism?"

SCIENTIST FRIEND: "you mean hypothesis?"

YOU: "no, hypothesism."

SCIENTIST FRIEND: "hypothesism isn't a word. i think you mean hypothesis."

YOU: [smug chuckle] "yeah right. stick to science and leave the english to me, pal."

SCIENTIST FRIEND: "ok. but i'm pretty sure you're wrong."

YOU: [even more smug] "yeah well, you're entitled to your own hypothesism."

SCIENTIST FRIEND: "shut up."

YOU: "you are so sad."

Untitled

2006-01-31T12:19:00.000-06:00

questions like "why?" and "how?" are always on the tip of my tongue,
and it seems that you never really answer them for me.
instead, you continually answer the question that you know i meant to ask,
the question my heart has always been asking...
"who?"
"who are you, God?"

Appreciate the Process

2006-01-31T12:18:00.000-06:00

[DISCLAIMER: this dialogue is loosely inspired by actual conversation possibly overheard or participated in at my job. the names have been changed to protect the ridiculous.]

MANAGER JIM: [to the staff] "There is a process in place for changing the
process, but it's currently being changed."

LACKEY #165643: [raising hand] "I'm sorry, what was that?"

MANAGER JIM: "That should have been clear. The process change process
is being changed."

Bethlehem and Golgatha

2005-12-30T15:35:00.000-06:00

these were taken at the amazing Chapel of the Holy Cross in Sedona, Arizona.

Southwestern Lights

2005-12-29T15:24:00.000-06:00

There are no evergreens in the desert, but the natives still do their best to spread Christmas cheer.

Lumens (part 5)

2005-12-29T15:13:00.000-06:00

another one for the Lumens series, this time with a little bit of a Christmas-color flare.

Clap·ter

2005-12-10T12:17:00.000-06:00

i can't believe it's not a real word...

(this is the first in an ongoing series, which was inspired by my wife)

clap·ter
n.
1. a significant amount of clapping

usage example:
the stadium erupted with clapter when my name was announced.

the following pertinent dialogue is something i actually overheard in real life. i'm not even kidding. it's true. (ok, technically it's not "true," but it might as well be):

LITTLE KID: "mommy, what does 'applause' mean?"

WISE PARENT: "that's just a really pretentious way of saying 'clapter' sweetie."

LITTLE KID: [nodding] "ooooh, ok."

Born Into Brothels

2005-12-04T12:16:00.000-06:00

abuse. starvation. poverty. abandonment. despair. no one can deny that these are ugly words. they are also ugly realities in the red light district of calcutta, india.

'born into brothels' is a documentary that chronicles a professional photographer's effort to aid and encourage a group of children who live in these realities everyday. the children are all sons and daughters of prostitutes, who have very little hope of overcoming their incredibly sad and awful circumstances. the photographer, zana briski, lives in the red light district with them and expands their world by teaching them photography. she goes to painstaking efforts to get them out of the brothels and into boarding schools, using the children's own photography to make money for that cause. my description doesn't really do the film justice, because the narrative predominantly focuses on the children and their stunning, often overwhelmingly affecting photography. it would have been very easy for the film to focus primarily on zana's heroic efforts, but that becomes no more than a sidebar in the well-edited story of these creative and beautiful youth.

from a technical standpoint, the film was extremely dense and effective. i could find plenty to comment on along that vein, but i'm not really interested in that at the moment. what ultimately struck me about the film is that it so effectively expresses a very specific truth. it is a truth that few works of art are able to genuinely convey, but when one succeeds, it immediately becomes a personal favorite. it is a truth that brings me to my knees everytime.

and that truth is this - that grace has an incredible power to transform ugliness into beauty. as a Christian, i know of no greater image of this than the cross - an ugly symbol of one of the most horrific, torturous methods of capital punishment in history. and yet it's a symbol made utterly beautiful by the immeasurable grace given on it. for those who merely accept it, this grace transforms the ugly stain of sin into the beauty of righteousness. and though it doesn't always seem like it, this same grace is transforming our broken, fallen world into a place of utter beauty.

just as all of us have done nothing and can do nothing to deserve God's grace, the children in 'brothels' did nothing to deserve zana's time, energy, or help and had little, if anything, to offer her. out of love, she extended a small bit of grace to them, and the result was unbelievable beauty - beauty that extended well beyond the aesthetic value of their photography. it was the beauty of meaningful relationships, of innocence preserved, of impossible hope in the midst of bleak despair. and though only for some of the children, it was the beauty of that hope realized, an opportunity for a life they never thought possible.

what an awesome snapshot of reality in Christ.

Mechnology

2005-12-02T14:57:00.000-06:00

this is a menacing shot of a mechanical monster that terrorized my street for days.

Lumens (part 4)

2005-10-14T13:48:00.000-05:00

these are my favorite of the whole Lumens series and admittedly, the inspiration for the name of this website.

Sheaf Toss

2005-10-08T13:24:00.000-05:00

who can use a pitchfork to toss a bag of hay the highest? my wife's Scottish ancestors are still looking for the answer to that profound question.

Unnatural Growth

2005-08-12T13:09:00.000-05:00

i like to think of this one as post-apocalyptic imagery.

Unrealized Progress

2005-08-12T13:01:00.000-05:00

i drove past this rusty piece of mechanical equipment sitting in an empty field en route to work for years, before i finally decided to get some pictures of it.

Sun Studio

2005-04-13T21:28:00.000-05:00

this past weekend my lady and i took a tour of sun studios in memphis, tennessee. sun is the tiny, now-famous record label where many argue that rock 'n roll was born, and where music legends elvis, johnny cash, and jerry lee lewis (among others) all got their start. the original studio was just a hole-in-the-wall that only employed a couple of people, and yet some of the most exciting sounds of the last fifty years came out of that little corner building. one thing that struck me was how the current presentation of the studio reflected the music that came out of it so many years ago. it was unpolished, raw, and a bit haphazard in its presentation. in the actual studio, no evidence of renovation could be found. classic sun sides that must be worth absurd amounts of money simply hung framed and out in the open on the wall. pianos and guitars played by past studio musicians lined the floor around the edge of the room, left out to mingle with the touring masses. a taped X marked the spot where elvis stood during his sun recording sessions. the room was filled with the same raw soul and unassuming, unpretentious air of creativity found in the grooves of those early sun records. and i was just completely fascinated by it. that aura of stripped-bare expression out on the fringe of originality and creativity is extremely inspiring to me.

Sign Language (part 4)

2005-04-09T16:38:00.000-05:00

This record store sign in Memphis fits nice and snugly in my Sign Language series.

And God Created Rock 'n Roll

2005-04-09T11:42:00.000-05:00

this is the massive guitar that sits above the entrance to Sun Studio in Memphis. i love the disproportionate largeness of the guitar, the sky scene in the background, and the associated memories of my first visit there with the woman that is now my wife.

Grateful

2005-03-01T21:27:00.000-06:00

the reality is that nothing i can say would be more profound or meaningful than "Thank you."

but to merely write those words would be woefully trite without sinking into them, dwelling on them, and truly living in them. i want to be bathed in a sea of thankfulness, washed over by waves that pour humility down my prideful throat to purify and sustain my insides. this is my prayer.

Nightwoods (part 3)

2005-01-11T11:15:00.000-06:00

another image to add to the Nightwoods series and probably the most nightmarish yet...

Icewoods

2004-12-26T11:02:00.000-06:00

while driving through indiana on the day after christmas, i was really taken by the striking image of the ice-covered trees glistening in the morning sun against the blue sky.

Racing the Reaper

2004-10-10T21:22:00.000-05:00

on friday, i was driving on I-70 through illinois on my way to my college's homecoming and i dozed off behind the wheel. the car veered onto the median, which woke me up and i jerked the wheel much too hard back toward the highway, rocketing the vehicle across both lanes and off the other side at 70 miles an hour. the car sped down a minor slope and then up another slope toward some trees. i must have reacted to the trees by jerking the wheel, because the car did a 180 degree spin on the damp grass, dukes of hazzard style, and finally came to rest right in the middle of three trees (one on each side and one in the back, as if framing a parking spot for me). when it was all said and done, the car was about 60 or 70 feet off the highway, at the top of slope, sticking out of some trees facing the wrong direction.

if i had gone all the way off into the median i almost definitely would have died. if there had been a car in the other lane i probably would have killed them and myself. if it had happened almost anywhere else on that stretch of I-70 i wouldn't have survived. if anything in the whole sequence had happened a fraction of a second later or earlier than it did, i most likely would have been killed. the fact that i'm not dead is fairly amazing. the fact that i don't have so much as a scratch, a bruise, or even a hint of whiplash...that i stepped out of the car in exactly the same physical state as when i stepped into it...is quite literally a miracle.

God's sovereignty is a pretty complex thing that's difficult to wrap your mind around. all i know for sure is that, in ways i can't completely understand, He is behind all things. i believe nothing is insignificant and most things are much more significant than we usually bother to acknowledge. so, i can't help but wonder why friday, at 4:50 p.m., i was so dramatically not killed.

Nightwoods (part 2)

2004-08-24T10:57:00.000-05:00

more surreal woodland imagery...

Dark/Light

2004-08-19T21:19:00.000-05:00

i am utterly mesmerized by this confusing, conflicted mess of darkness and light. it has me in the way that only truth ever can.

The Fire of God

2004-07-06T21:15:00.000-05:00

last night the sky was filled with some of the most spectacular natural imagery my eyes have seen in a long time. i had cooped myself up in the house all day to get a bunch of unpacking done. at about dusk, i was in the basement going through boxes and i started hearing a fairly constant, low rumbling of thunder outside. badly in need of a break, i decided to head out for some storm-watching. the sky overhead was one massive cloud of apocalyptic darkness that stretched endlessly to the east. every few seconds, hazy patches of skittish light would flash from obscured bolts, momentarily interrupting the darkness like camera flashes at a concert when the band starts to play. and at least every minute or so, a bold streak of lightning would cut through the darkness in a violent crack of white light. i had left the house at the right time, because to the west, there was just enough room between the edge of the darkness and the horizon to reveal a bit of pale blue sky, highlighted by burning edges of sunset orange. that peaceful sunset slowly being swallowed up by the storm was such a rare and fascinating juxtaposition.

after driving around for awhile, i parked out near the airport runways where i knew there would be nothing but open sky for me to take it all in. i must have stayed there in my car for nearly an hour just watching the lightning. i had trouble figuring out which direction i should set my gaze, as the "fire of God" was coming down all around the horizon and i didn't want to miss any of the magnificence. there were towering bolts that seemd to come down from the very center of the sky all the way to the horizon line. a couple of times, i witnessed a bolt of lightning begin to race straight across the sky and then splinter off into multiple jagged streaks that looked as if the atmosphere was being torn open above me. sometimes, a single bolt of lightning would almost strobe, flashing in rapid succession and then fading after what seemed like a longer final flash. a few of the especially spectacular bolts literally made me exclaim in awe and i think my jaw remained dropped until i pulled back into the garage. i don't know if God was trying to upstage all of the fireworks from the weekend or what, but if he was, then he definitely succeeded.

Carry That Weight

2004-06-12T21:16:00.000-05:00

sometimes i observe a certain beauty in life that weighs heavily on my heart. it isn't a weight that is burdensome or oppressive though. instead, it is the kind of weight that makes you conscious of your own strength as you carry it. and that realization of strength becomes just as overwhelming as the weight itself, knowing that all of it is an incredible and undeserved gift.

Lumens (part 3)

2004-06-02T23:53:00.000-05:00

this is just one photo to add to the Lumens series, taken a few days after the previous set. it's not my favorite of the series, but worthy of being part of it, anyway.

Avalon Blues

2004-05-31T23:55:00.000-05:00

my love for film comes out even in my photography. i have a fascination with movie theaters and abandoned buildings, so discovering the vacant Avalon Cinema gave me the best of both worlds.

Lumens (part 2)

2004-05-31T23:48:00.000-05:00

this is the second set of photos inspired by the idea of light in spite of darkness. i like these a bit more, as they strike me as more dynamic than those in part 1.

The Power of Rhythm

2004-05-10T21:13:00.000-05:00

i was down at the u-city loop yesterday evening doing one of my favorite things: hanging out alone, but out among crowds of people. the most intense solitude can often be found when you're surrounded by strangers. sometimes i really love that though, because i get to just be a detached, reflective observer. anyway, there was a drum circle going in the square right by racanelli's pizza. i decided to just sit and absorb the crowd while i let the rhythm pour into my ears. over the course of about an hour i saw quite a smattering of people comprising various shapes, sizes, ages, ethnicities, social statuses, and fashion sensibilities. there were some who were clearly planted there for the entire evening and others who just hung around a few minutes, but they all stopped to check out the drum circle at least for a time. there was no pretense, no segregation, and no order at all really...just a bunch of people loosely, but genuinely sharing this experience. it struck me as kind of a dynamic collage...a random, constantly changing collection of individuals set to the driving, often chaotic drum beats. and it was one of the most beautiful things i've observed in a long time.

Overdub

2004-05-03T21:12:00.000-05:00

conversations are so much better in my head, because i can rewind and edit them as much as i want. i play them back again and again until the tape gets worn out and i've ruined something that never even existed in the first place.

Nightwoods (part 1)

2004-04-21T23:39:00.000-05:00

these were taken in the same session as the first Lumens photos, deep into a night of insomnia. for me, they suggest imagery from a dream that takes place in the woods.

Lumens (part 1)

2004-04-21T23:33:00.000-05:00

these are the first in what i hope is a continuing series of photos with the theme of light in spite of darkness.

Remember?

2004-04-13T21:10:00.000-05:00

remember when you were a little kid and you found pleasure in the simplest things and you were allowed to use your imagination and to be afraid and to freely express disappointment and pain and there were no complicated details to keep track of and you only had two responsibilities (eat your vegetables and make your bed) and romantic relationships consisted solely of handwritten notes passed during class with stolen smiles and all your best friends lived down the street and something as arbitrary as a pile of leaves would entertain you for hours and there were only three possible grades on your report card (E for Excellent, S for Satisfactory, and U for Unsatisfactory) and money management meant not losing your lunch money and things like affection and faith came so easy and crying was just as accepted as laughing and you had way more questions than answers and you were so full of potential and it just didn't matter how many "ands" you used because you didn't even know what a run-on sentence was? i remember that.

the funny thing about being a grown up is that i can't really pinpoint the time when i became one. oh sure, there have been discernable turning points, like graduations and relocations and career beginnings but there was never really an instant when i consciously acknowledged my grown-up-itude. i guess i've drifted to the deep end of the pool without even realizing it. apparently i've been perfectly fine here in the deep end for awhile and i know i still will be. but sometimes i just want to put the floaties on and be a shallow-ender again, if only to make sure i don't forget how simple the truth can be.

Sorrow & Love

2004-04-12T21:09:00.000-05:00

it is a monday of mixed emotions. is there such a thing as melancholic joy? i think there must be. i feel it strongest when i'm dwelling on the cross. yesterday, during communion, i couldn't keep from shedding tears. although tears are an extreme rarity for me, this isn't the first time they've come when observing communion. they're never tears of sadness or personal anguish. instead, they are tears of overwhelming humility. they are tears of a thankfulness that seems inadequate. they are tears that beg for God to break me. they are tears salted with unending hope and consuming joy. they are the natural outpouring of being so wholly fulfilled in spite of a spirit that deserves nothing more than the emptiness it often chases.

Awkward and Glorious Movement

2004-04-08T21:08:00.000-05:00

most of the time, i'm afraid that i take just about everything truly good for granted. but occasionally the weight of God's blessings in my life comes crashing down on me like a tidal wave that pours into my heart and washes away whatever unfounded joylessness was clinging to the ventricle walls. i spent part of last weekend in ohio and was reminded of just how absurdly awesome my family is. within the next couple of weeks i'll get to be with old friends who are some of the best people ever and lately i've been enjoying the development of new friendships as well. and still all of that is merely a byproduct of the blessing of Grace and the relationship that matters most...the one that feeds and inspires all of the others. it's times like this that i'm ashamed of my sometimes extreme cynicism and lack of patience.

Meaning Overheard

2004-03-25T21:04:00.000-06:00

"ah memories..........yeah, memories..."

what a sad ending to a conversation which began with his description of the previous night's encounter with a woman. the recounting was coated in uncomfortable metaphors and awkwardly lascivious euphemisms. eventually, the conversation drifted to other women from his past.

"i had a thing for cathy. not that that's saying anything really. but my first wife didn't like it too much."

i wasn't looking at him, but i could hear in his voice the suggestive half-grin that must have dominated his face. his counterpart in the conversation didn't say a whole lot, except to interject occasionally with a masculine giggle of encouragement. two men, at least twenty years removed from high school, whose conversation is echoing somewhere in a gym class locker room.

is this what life boils down to for people? reminiscing about trivialized experiences that managed to break up the unbearable lull of monotony, just waiting for the next distraction to come along so they can ignore its meaning too? what a depressing way to live.

thank God that everything is so meaningful.

War

2004-03-25T21:03:00.000-06:00

sometimes my mind is my heart's worst enemy.

The Dance

2004-03-07T20:59:00.000-06:00

tonight i had an experience that i have to write about. it was just a conversation but it was so much more than just a conversation. there was flirting and joking and that kind of spontaneous smiling that glows with sincerity and unmentionable meaning. we subconsciously challenged each other to the game of sustained eye contact. our eyes each held secrets that we longed to reveal, but instinctively felt the need to protect. so the game was played and our gaze was held until the moment just before the dam would have broken and our secrets would begin to flow. and this game was the background music for our dancing words. noun, verb, subject, and predicate swirling and twirling to the song of her eyes harmonizing with mine. and of course, there was the feeling. you know the feeling. they say it's in your stomach, but i get it most in the center of my chest. some call it butterflies, but butterflies start out as wormy larva and this is something much more pure. i just think of it as an internal romantic tickling, because being tickled is simultaneously agonizing and somehow utterly enjoyable. it signifies the development of something new; a genuine and rare connection that is just beginning. i wanted to sustain that feeling. i wanted the conversation to go on forever. i wanted the song to keep playing and our words to keep dancing. but all daydreams have to end sometime.

you may feel a little betrayed and disappointed that my experience tonight only existed in my head and i wouldn't blame you if you did. you might even be a little angry with me, but i promise that you hold me in less contempt than i'm holding myself right now. i've locked myself in this daydream theater for much too long. my eyes glaze over watching the two-dimensional images flicker on that big screen while i warm the cushioned seat. life constantly calls to me from outside the doors, but i can barely hear it over the melodramatic symphony that plays on the soundtrack. maybe it's fear that keeps me from venturing out of those doors, maybe it's laziness, or maybe it's just the comfort that comes with staying in one place for so long. most likely it's all three. i know that i can't just kick down the doors and sprint into reality. i have to crack them open and ease my way out slowly. my eyes need time to adjust to the glaring sunlight and my legs need to get loose after sitting for so long. if i'm going to survive the transition, this self-directed frustration must be replaced with patience and motivation that only God can give, because i surely haven't found them within myself.

Sportscenter

2004-02-13T20:58:00.000-06:00

i can now cross "make a sportscenter highlight" off of my things-to-do-before-i-die checklist. last night at the blues/avalanche game, my friend and i were in the on-ice bird races during the second intermission and the race ended up being number ten (and number four!) on the sportscenter top ten. i was the parrot. i came in third after the flamingo fell on the second turn and tripped me up (on purpose! no hard feelings though. he figured he was down so he'd help his friend win). so i guess fifteen seconds of my fifteen minutes of fame have been fulfilled with me biting it on the ice in a parrot-riding costume on national television.

Grace Can Wait - Legislate!

2004-02-02T20:53:00.000-06:00

i wonder how many resources Christian organizations devote to lobbying for abortion legislation. i wouldn't even be able to come up with a ball park figure, but i'm sure it's a pretty hefty amount. does God see that as good stewardship? don't get me wrong. i firmly believe abortion is immoral by God's standards, but is legislation really how God would have us handle this issue? does this approach change hearts in a positive way, or does it harden hearts even more toward abortion and Christianity in general?

imagine using all of those resources to create programs for counseling, encouragement, and complete support of women with unwanted or unexpected pregnancies. and i'm not talking about some weekly session in which the woman is guilted into not having an abortion. what i'm talking about is comprehensive support that eliminates most of the reasons these women feel they can't keep their baby. of course, something like this would require significant commitment and sacrifice from a lot of people. it's relatively easy to stand on a picket line outside an abortion clinic or write a check supporting the campaign of a pro-life candidate, but where is the Christ-like love in that? i wonder how many Christians, when really put to such a sacrificial task, would show their feelings on abortion to be as strong as they've made them seem. i wonder how many pew-warmers, who base their political votes almost exclusively on this issue, would even serve a couple of hours per week in such a program.

maybe it's just my anti-political bent, but i get pretty baffled with the emphasis many Christians place on legislating Christian morality in general. we're not in theocratic ancient Israel. federal laws do not soften hearts. so much of that political energy could be better spent perpetuating God's grace, which is the ultimate changer of hearts.

Landmark Sunset

2003-12-29T22:50:00.000-06:00

i took this while driving, so forgive the raw nature of the photo. you might think this is just a pretty sunset, but the fun part of the image for me is the almost obscured silhouette of a national landmark among the tree branches.

Sign Language (part 3)

2003-12-29T16:33:00.000-06:00

Nothing is funnier than an unintentional sexual euphemism. (Guessing once again on the date).

Waking Wind

2003-12-16T20:50:00.000-06:00

winter has drearily poured in with funeral skies and biting cold. my mood, however, stands strong in defiance of the all too common winter lull. a peace has flushed out the dark pockets of discontent that had been rotting in the corners of my heart. a genuine excitement is welling up within, forcing out the idle discouragement of months passed.

and it all began with a sudden and violent summer wind. a blast powerful enough to wake my stagnant heart from its coma into a foreign and confused consciousness. a gust strong enough to expose the heaviness of my heart and lift it in spite of the weight. a gale that has steadily been carrying this heart ever since, on a path now filled with light and possibility.

on that distinct summer night i said of the heavenly wind, "this is God telling us to go to sleep." and he probably was. but he was also waking up my soul.

Paper Trail

2003-11-24T20:49:00.000-06:00

the drive to work this morning was a surreal scene. plain white paper was scattered all over the highway both on and beside the road. scraps were whipping around, over, and underneath the cars for a few miles. i suppose it must have fallen from the back of some truck, but there was no actual evidence of the source. i don't think anyone quite knew what to make of it.

Belarus

2003-10-27T20:47:00.000-06:00

Well, I'm back on U.S. soil after spending almost 2 weeks in Belarus. Here are a few of the memories:

-- My host family in Misnk, the Tikhons, were incredibly gracious, generous, caring, and humble. They welcomed us into their home and really made us a part of their family, in spite of such a short time together. Though our communication was limited most of the time, we were able to find unique connections through laughter, photos, meals, music, and a combination of sign language and finger pointing in a russian-english dictionary. Two of the evenings we were able to share stories and conversations through a family friend who translated for us. I will never forget Vera and Alexandr's storied expressions of faith in spite of religious oppression and life-threatening peril that they were able to relate to us. The heart of the Tikhon family displayed first-hand for me the transcendence of God's love. It's one thing to say that God's truth is universal, but it's entirely another to actually see it fleshed out across borders and cultural divides. Oh, and Vera was an AMAZING cook. :)

-- I met a young man named Ilya at a youth meeting of one of the churches in Misk. Ilya spoke excellent english and was obviously excited to be able to translate for me during the meeting. He beamed afterward that he'd completed his first translation. I was glad to be able to encourage him a little, though he encouraged me even more, without even realizing it I'm sure. He had such a fervent and innocent faith that reminded me just how uncomplicated our joy in Christ should be.

-- I learned slightly more about the religious culture in Belarus that helped me understand our purpose there a bit more. The Orthodox church has a very strong cultural and political presence in Belarus. In general, any type of protestant Christianity is viewed as a sect or a cult. Part of our purpose there was simply to help dispell some of the preconcieved notions about non-Orthodox Christians while getting out the message of redemption and grace that very few Belarussians get to hear. We were also there simply to encourage the believers and missionaries living in Belarus. It's nearly impossible to quantify how well we were able to meet those goals, but I pray that somehow God was able to use the things that we did there for his glory.

-- In the town of Grodno, the entire team and all of the translators stayed together in a local church. Though that wasn't exactly how it was supposed to happen, it made for a really interesting sleepover type of atmosphere each night. I got to know both my teammates and the translators alot better. A number of laughs, late-night card games, deep and sometimes not-so-deep conversations were shared. Anyone who has been on a similar trip understands the unique bonds that form. Everyone knows that the circumstances are temporary, and somehow that seems to brings a different level of intensity to the relationships.

-- Maybe they just bring out all the hotties when the Americans come, but I have to say that Belarus seems to have an exceptional amount of stunningly beautiful women. My teammates often joked that I should make a special trip back to Belarus to find myself a wife. I can't really call that a bad idea, even if it is a slightly unrealistic one.

-- After experiencing traffic in Minsk, I'll never complain about St. Louis drivers again. It was the definition of chaos.

I feel like I should sum up somehow. All I can really say is that the trip was a blessing. It softened my heart and strengenthed my faith all at once. I can only thank God for the experience.

Snow Day

2003-10-21T22:40:00.000-05:00

the final image from Belarus...a sudden blanket of snow fell on this scattershod scene. i'm not exactly sure why, but this is one of my favorite photos from the trip.

Hatyn

2003-10-18T22:27:00.000-05:00

Hatyn is a memorial in Belarus, created in memory of the 186 Belarussian villages that were destroyed in World War II. nearly a fourth of the Belarussian population was exterminated by the Nazis on their march to Moscow. the statue that greets you on the way in was one of the most moving images for me. it depicts an old man carrying a young boy - the only two survivors from the village of Hatyn.

Punk Rock Duck and the Old Mill

2003-10-17T22:19:00.000-05:00

here are more pictures from the Belarus trip. i'm not normally drawn to wildlife, but this duck's hairdo was too good to pass up.

this windmill is, well, just a windmill that we visited - not the best picture i've ever taken, but i like it enough to splatter it here.

The Birthplace of Communism

2003-10-14T22:13:00.000-05:00

one of the most interesting and moving experiences of my life was going on a mission trip to Belarus. this is a shot from the first day of the trip, taken at the Minsk airport. i really dig the layering and interesting lines that turned out in this one.

Comfort Model

2003-10-05T20:45:00.000-05:00

i was sitting on the sidewalk with my back against a wall, reading a book and eating cotton candy that was being sold outside the movie theater for a dollar. i lifted my head to take a swig of my lemonade and noticed a girl coming toward me with her camera.

"can i take your picture?" she asked. i nodded.

"you look really comfortable there," she said.

she lifted her camera and told me to smile, but i was already smirking at her remark. sometimes strangers say the most ironic things.

Mime

2003-10-03T20:44:00.000-05:00

i am the mime with painted face, trapped in an invisible box, pushing on walls of air.

Sign Language (part 2)

2003-10-03T16:30:00.000-05:00

More fun signs - again, the date is speculative.

Church Culture

2003-09-15T20:40:00.000-05:00

there's a certain culture that exists in modern american protestant churches. it exists in varying degrees across denominations and movements, but there are at least elements of it in nearly every church that i've been to. i don't think i can necessarily pin it down or describe it very well, but i know it's there. it's always there. i hate to call it Christian bookstore culture, but that's a pretty big part of it. as with any culture, there are certain expectations of you if you claim to be part of it...expectations both from outside the church and within. and in both cases the expectations are more cultural than they are biblical. i feel pretty trapped lately, because i know that i don't really fit either set of expectations and it's so difficult to just be honest.

there are quite a few problems with this modern culture in the church. it creates an environment that is just naturally uncomfortable for anyone that isn't a part of it. as open as any church might claim to be or want to be, this pervading church culture subconsciously pushes people away, because it's still too tightly defined and based on the wrong things. it is mostly focused on separating the church from the world rather than reaching out to the world. yes, as Christians we are called to be different than the world, but church culture has missed the point of how we're supposed to be different. the number one thing that should set us apart is our love...or more specifically, God's love through us. not what radio station we listen to. not what clothes we wear. not what CDs we buy. not what weekend conventions we go to. not what bumper stickers are on our car. not even what moral choices we make, because we all make bad moral choices. can all of those things help set us apart? sure. but they shouldn't be what defines the difference between us and the world, and yet to so many people both in and out of the church, they are. ideally, church culture should be a much simpler, stripped-down culture based in love, perpetual grace, reverance, and a striking level of openness.

sometimes i wish there was a way to just kill all of that other cultural noise and start fresh.

Junky

2003-09-11T20:39:00.000-05:00

i recently finished reading 'Junky' by William S. Burroughs which is a mostly personal account of opium addiction. the lifestyle that he describes in the book is pretty fascinating. junk becomes the life-purpose of the opium addict. every activity is motivated by the need to score and shoot up, while everything else just sort of fades into the background. the junky's will is completely surrendered to junk. when the need for junk can't be filled, the sickness sets in. it's a pretty ugly existence, really. but at the same time, i envy the life of the junky in some ways. there's beauty and simplicity in being so focused on and devoted to a single-purpose...and to feeling a need so strong that any amount of withdrawl results in overbearing emptiness.

i want to need God that way. i want to know his purpose for my life and be wholly devoted to it. i want to lose my will to him completely. God help me, i'm so terribly far from that point.

Sign Language (part 1)

2003-09-10T16:23:00.000-05:00

These are the first in a polaroid series of amusing and/or aesthetically-pleasing (to my eye, anyway) signs. Unfortunately, I'm not very good at record-keeping, so I'm unsure of the exact date these were taken, but I know they are from this general era of my life.

The Keys

2003-09-08T20:37:00.000-05:00

this is the true story of the keys...

i was at my parents' house for the weekend to get my car back after trading vehicles with them for a trip. i had my own standard set of keys for my car and there was also the set that i'd given my parents to use while they were driving it. on sunday morning, before church, i was loading my stuff in the car for the drive back to st louis, since i'd be leaving from church. i had bags in my hands and grabbed the spare set of my car keys that my parents had been using on the way out. in the process of loading everything i set that spare set of keys on the roof of the car and forgot about them. i headed out to church, and just as i turned onto the main road and starting picking up speed, i realized that i'd left the spare keys on top of the car. just an instant after this realization i caught a glimpse in the rearview mirror of the keys sliding speedily down the edge of the rear winshield. i pulled off to the side of the road as soon as i could and started walking back quickly to find the keys in the road. i was pretty certain that they'd flown off the drivers side edge of the rear winshield and were probably in the road. i looked pretty frantically and impatiently because i didn't want to be late for church and i didn't want the keyless entry remote to be run over. after scouring the road down and back i didn't find the keys, but i at least determined that they weren't in a position to be run over. i figured maybe i'd seen things wrong in the mirror and they fell off the other side, but i was late for church, so i decided to go on and come back afterward to look for them on the shoulder. throughout the service my mind drifted intermittently to worrying about finding the keys. when church was over i rushed back out to my car to head back to the spot where i lost them. as i was walking up to the rear of the parked car, i noticed that my keys were wedged into the small crevice where the trunk lid meets the bottom of the rear winshield. they had been there, safe and sound, the entire time i was frantically searching for them in the road. i just had to laugh at myself.

Self-projection

2003-09-05T20:33:00.000-05:00

a couple of weeks ago i was in a coffee shop and an obviously homeless man came in asking the patrons for change. he unintelligibly appealed to me, but i didn't have any change, or i just didn't want to give him any...i don't really remember. one of the coffee shop employees pretty quickly and sternly let him know that he wasn't allowed to do that in the coffee shop. something about that guy stuck with me though, and that was his facial expression. even if i had only seen him from the neck up, i could have told you he was homeless. that look of having nowhere to belong was written indelibly on his face. i haven't been able to shake that image of his expression. mostly because i've seen shades of it in the mirror more and more lately.

Barnlight

2003-08-17T23:29:00.000-05:00

i shot this at a local park. as you might guess, i love the way the sunlight comes through the gaps in the barn wall.

Faust Park

2003-08-17T16:18:00.000-05:00

i took these polaroids, including the instant version of "Barnlight," during a peaceful afternoon at Faust Park.

Omaha Afternoon

2003-08-10T10:16:00.000-05:00

these are some shots that i took on a photography outing in downtown Omaha with my friend Liz.

Demolition

2003-07-08T09:55:00.000-05:00

i ran across this partially demolished building and decided to capture it with my camera. i guess i was drawn to the surreal feeling of the scene, with its chaotic mess of colors and odd shapes.

And God said, "Yo"

2003-07-05T09:53:00.000-05:00

this photo speaks for itself.

D&D

2003-07-03T09:48:00.000-05:00

Danielson live at Cornerstone...

...and Denison Witmer live at Cornerstone

Coalesce

2002-12-07T17:44:00.000-06:00

the rock band Coalesce, live at the Creepy Crawl

Roadside Monument

2002-07-03T18:07:00.000-05:00

the rock band Roadside Monument, live at the Galaxy

Luxury

2002-06-29T17:39:00.000-05:00

the rock band Luxury, live in Kansas City