I've been Swayed by the Cool.

I've been Swayed by the Cool.
March, 2005

Feeling like a sidekick lately. Just kind of sidelined, around for a good story, a bonus item to someone else's day. It's really not all that horrible of a place to be. I have fun at it, I'm not really a center-of-attention kind of girl. I'd rather be a little quiet, fill a bit of empty space. It's a lot of responsibility to be a headliner. While Cat 5 years ago had no problem being larger than life, current-Cat is a bit more mild mannered. I'm just as adventurous, just as reckless, but probably more internalized.

But every so often, when the principles aren't available to go eat curry or sit on a happy-hour patio with me, I think it might be nice to be a little more than that.

(The wiki article on sidekicks is pretty great. I also cannot stop listening to the Gaslight Anthem.)

A dozen or so rhythms.

It's official. For the rest of the month, all I care about is punk rock. Sorry work, sorry friendships, sorry pictures, you're all on the back burner.

Rio Grande.

Missing home. Fall's the best back there. The chile's fresh, the air is cold and Zozobra's burning away the anxieties of an entire state. I'll be back there soon, I'm sure. Just wish it was closer. It's a completely different world out here sometimes. This river would be laughed at in Oklahoma, the mighty Rio Grande is nothing.

Completely unrelated side note, I have no idea how to turn an internet-crush into a real-life-crush. I'm just way too awkward.

Who'd of thought?

Don't take no nerve when you got nothing to guard.

Echo!
Echo.
Echo?
...

Fifteen Minutes.

This is my favorite picture of myself. Taken in late 2004 at UNM's premier pizzeria right about the time I felt like everything in my life was getting back on track after some personal trauma that, at the time, wrecked me, but now that I think about it, was barely a drop in a bucket. The picture's all forehead and awkward, but I like it. Obviously, I was happy.

A kid I went to high school with killed himself a few weeks before this was taken. I wasn't particularly close with him but he was the sort of guy I thought had it all figured out. He hung out with everyone, his dad let everyone party at his house and he was super talented. It all got messed up, the way that small towns tend to destroy only the best and brightest, and he put a gun in his mouth outside a bar. I talked to a girl I went to high school with a few days later and she said probably the smartest thing I've ever heard anyone say about suicide: "I swear, if people would wait for like, fifteen minutes, everything can change."

Current headspace is by definition bizarre these days. I’ve been hit with a few things I wasn’t quite ready for. If I wasn’t already feeling so bizarre, they wouldn’t bother me as much, but as I am, it makes things even more cloudy. I’ve an aunt in the hospital with a brain aneurism and an ex-boyfriend getting married. Wow. When you put those two in the same sentence, it certainly gives you some perspective. It’s like throwing rocks into a tornado, still hurts, but the rocks really aren’t what do the damage.

I know I’m where I need to be. And I really am a nice girl. I probably just need fifteen minutes.

PS. No, I'm not going off the deep end. Come on, I'm fully aware it's really all just #whitegirlproblems. The weather in Norman right now is too glorious to be grumpy. Patio furniture is my favorite right now.

Water Shed.

An Oklahoman told me once that the biggest sky he's ever seen is in Oklahoma. I absolutely agree. But as far as blue sky goes, New Mexico might have it beat. No photoshopping, by the way.

Plastic.

Ten years ago, all I cared about was punk rock and whether boys thought I was cute. It's amazing the things that never change.

Balancing Act.

 
Me and Denver have always had a tricky relationship. It's like a passive aggressive friendship with someone you've known for a long time. They're always sort of around, but you've got to keep them at a distance because before you know it, you're losing your phone in bars and snowed in for days. I really don't particularly like the place. I could think of 20 other big cities I'd rather go to. But, I keep going back since it's in close proximity to where I live and I've always got friends who make homes there. Sometimes, I'll find things (mostly beers) I like, but I never want to stay long.

This is from the 16th Street area, in front of one of the hotels. Just like all other big city downtowns, they have to mix art with industry. I did really like these ladies and they seemed to blend in well.

I wish I had more to say, really I do. Can't quite figure out my brain since I've gotten back from vacation. Sort of feels like I'm in a permanent state of waiting. I really should be doing and not waiting, but I'm not quite sure what to do. If that makes any sense at all...

Juice.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 


Zion is a place name often used as a synonym for Jerusalem. The word is first found in Samuel II, 5:7 dating to c.630-540 BCE. It commonly referred to a specific mountain near Jerusalem (Mount Zion), on which stood a Jebusite fortress of the same name that was conquered by David and was named the City of David. The term came to designate the area of Jerusalem where the fortress stood, and later became a metonym for Solomon's Temple in Jerusalem, the city of Jerusalem and generally, the World to Come.

In the Latter Day Saint movement, originating in the United States in the 1830s, Zion refers to a specific location to which members of the millennial church are to be gathered together to live. A Temple is to be built unto the Lord for a sacred work to be performed and for the Lord Jesus Christ to reign when he returns at the Second Coming. Until the gathering of Israel, when the second coming of Jesus Christ. The Latter Day Saints also believe Zion to be their stakes and wards where they gather weekly to renew vows and covenants made to God the Father and to the Son of God.

Me and Brigham Young don't really get along. But I'll give the guy a little credit. If I was going to pick a place to hang out until the second-coming, I think it would be Utah as well. 

Hey, you're alright.

When I last saw the ocean a few months ago, the sun was setting. Light was fading fast. Normally, my photographic brain would be upset, losing precious sunlight on such majesty. But not this time. I was more excited about the people I was with and the place I was. Fears only seem small by the ocean, so says one of my favorite bands. It really is true. But your fears are as big as you make them, I think. My fears weren't very big then. So, I just got to take a few deep breaths and enjoy how insignificant my white girl problems really were. And still are.

LIke I said, it really is all working out. It'll get right, really it will.

Highway 270

Someone asked me the other day if I liked living in Oklahoma. Without really even thinking, I said I loved it. Most of the time, my answer is "Yes, it's growing on me" or "It's a big change" but this time, I loved it. It might have been my surroundings, I was in the middle of Robber's Cave State Park but it really didn't even seem like a question.

It's all working out.

Little too much.

Let me tell you how bad I was this Easter. Not only did I fall off the blogging wagon, I ate beef for the first time in two months. Trust me, it wasn't worth the arguement that would have transpired if I tried to explain to my Texas family that I wasn't eating beef. (It's not really founded in anything, I just sort have decided I didn't like it very much anyway.)

My brain's just sort of been all over the place. Even at work, I really can't focus. I get everything done, but I feel like I can only work on something for five minutes at a time, like I need 15 projects to be happening all at once or I feel unproductive. It's hard enough getting through typing this.

I'll be back soon. I'm sure this can be one of the many projects I'm needing to keep my brain busy these days. Have no fear. I can tell you this; change is in the air. It's tornado season and Oklahoma finally got some rain. Everyone seems to be making big decisions lately and while I think most of mine came early (in January), I'm really excited to see what this season has for me.


Until then, have a fat sandwich:

DFW.

DFW
February 21, 2009

I think airports would be one of those things that future civilations would look at and go, "What the hell was that?" Airports and freeway interchanges. No place better makes that point than Dallas Fort Worth International.

Dallas is a crazy-wealthy community. Everything is bigger in Texas, even its airports. Dallas wants to do nothing more than showcase its wealth. The airport is no exception. If they can upgrade that place in any way, they'll do it. Wnat another terminal? Good. Because I was thinking we needed one. Wanna build a toll rode through it because it's so massive? Good idea, doctor!

I had my D80 out for most of my trip back to New Jersey for my grandfather's funeral to take pictures from the plane and those are all lovely. But this ended up being one of my favorites. We got into DFW right when the sun was about to set. It made the light in this little waiting area absolutely enchanting.

Just a thought, an airport would probably be a decent place to hang out during the zombie apocolypse.

Lunchbox.

Lunchbox
May 19, 2009

The first few weeks I lived in Oklahoma were completely surreal. Nothing made sense. I got lost everywhere I went, I got drunk every night, I just was not myself. It was like I had my heart ripped out of my chest and I was 500 miles away from it. This isn't because Oklahoma was terrible. Oklahoma wasn't terrible. I was terrible and I would have been terrible no matter where I was. It took me a while to actually come-to and realize where I was and what had happened. And when I did, I realized I'd blown pretty much all of my savings at bars. Go figure.

Edna's took a good chunk of that because lunchboxes are delicious and $4 a piece. When you order them two at a time, chug them, love them, get more, buy your friends some... I've had a couple three-figure bar tabs at that place. But I'm pretty sure that's an Oklahoma rite of passage. I was making a new home and I didn't even realize it.

This is taken on Edna's patio. The dude is Murf, who I think was kinda sorta at that same place when I was. Me, him and Chelsey were a power-drinking ensemble for a while. The entire photo is just the reflection on the table, which was wet from all the lunchboxes that were once sitting there. Once again, let's stick the camera on the table and see what happens.

(Taken with a Nikon S610. No photoshopping. It's a random shot, but I'm kinda proud of it.)

Urban Yeti.

Urban Yeti
September 26, 2003

I ask only this of you, is there any place better to take pictures of people than at a Waffle House? I challenge you to find a superior setting. Every arguement that you present me, I will shoot down because it will inferior to the awesome power of grits and cheesy eggs.

(Taken with a Sony DSC-P32, when it was young and efficent. No Photoshopping. The reflection's pretty great.)

Dylan Star Does Not Want to Come Inside.

Dylan Star Does Not Want to Come Inside
March 12, 2006

Happy 4-20. Let's talk about Dylan Star.

If you know anything about Dylan, it's that he doesn't do well indoors. He wants to be outside at all times. That's probably why him and Kenneth are such good friends. When I took this photo, Dylan was living with his aunt, who was a upper level management person for MCI and had a GIANT, BEAUTIFUL house right on the bay in Annapolis. She had even had a private dock. I remember sitting on one of her luxurious couches and Dylan yelling at me though a window, "Why are you in there? I don't wanna be in there. Come out here!" That's the essence of that guy.

This is one of my favorite portraits ever. Dylan was driving his giant truck into Washington DC, windows down, the stereo was so loud I couldn't hear and his matted hair was blowing in the wind. It's one of those times when you actually feel like you're accurately captured a moment. It's a rare thing for me, but I like that feeling. Maybe you do get a bit of someone's soul when you take their picture (DEEP. Run for the hills!).

(Taken with the Sony DSC-P32. Image is grayscaled. That camera's capacity for accurately capturing light was completely gone by that point.)

No Smoking.

No Smoking
November 15, 2005

This is from one of the few times I took my camera out for school. The one photography class I took left a really bad taste in my mouth. I feel like I actually did learn a lot, but I really don't respond well to criticism and judgement, I take everything way too personal. Art studio students are a special breed, a breed that I can never be. You've got to have some thick skin to listen to people tear through your creativity for hours on end.

This was actually for a project for my human rights class, probably the class I worked the hardest in my entire college career. This lady was my professor. I loved that class. Our final project had to be about a human rights issue that affected a certain region and I picked probably the least popular region, the United States. My project was about our health care system, which was the project I wanted to do since the first day of class. I learned a whole lot and believe me when I tell you that the US has the greatest health care system in the world. But no one can afford it.

We had to provide some kind of visual aid with our project, so I ran around a few hospitals in the Albuquerque area and took pictures. My teacher and everyone else in my group loved it, which I don't understand. It almost feels like cheating. "So you're telling me I get to walk around, take pictures and you want to give me college credit with that? AND there's no critical analysis of the photos? Alright. Sounds good." About 2 hours of my life turned into an A.

I did spend some time photoshopping. I wanted to make them look as gritty and isolated as possible. This is actually from a construction site at UNMH, they were building the new children's hospital (above my beloved tunnels). Once again, it's almost cheating, but really, this is how your HMO feels about you.

(Taken with the Sony DSC-P32. It was screaming its siren song at me by that point. I photoshopped it years ago... contrast is overcooked and there's a film grain filter on there. The rest, you've got me. Original image.)

Behind the Scenes.

Behind the Scenes
October 18, 2005

If burlesque was good for anything, it was good for about 4 gigs worth of images that make me feel awesome about myself. Sometimes, it still makes me shake my head that once upon a time, being on stage with a small amount of clothing was something I was capable of doing. But most of the time, I'm really proud of myself and I hope that I'll be able to do it again one of these days.

I don't wear makeup. Makeup gives me severe anxiety. Up until probably my sophomore year of high school, so did my hair. So, maybe in another ten years, I'll be able to apply my own foundation without having a breakdown (that might be a metaphor...). One of the best things about burlesque is that it attracts lots of people who are really good at doing makeup! And they want to do yours! I remember a show when our makeup team all took mushrooms before the show and our makeup/hair all got progressively more interesting as the night went on. Beehives for everyone by the final number!

This was taken after the weirdest burlesque event to-date. It was at the Desert Sands Inn on San Mateo and Central (the motel used in No Country for Old Men). That neighborhood is the absolute best place to walk around almost-naked in Albuquerque. Camel cigarettes rented out the whole place for a private party. Ron Jeremy was the guest of honor and a Linkin Park side project called Bucket of Weenies played. As if that wasn't random enough, I ran into the ex-boyfriend who had dismissed me only weeks before and I locked my keys in my car. Kenneth had to rescue me from the ghetto at 2:00 in the morning. We'd only been living together for a few weeks, he was excited.

That hair is not mine, it's a super-long neon blue extension. I love how the image quality makes it look almost trashy, like it's taken from the backstage of a seedy strip club. It's almost a hangover in a photo. This is me trying to take a photo of my and taking one of my neck. That's cool. I like this one better.

(Taken with a Sony DSC-P32. Freaking believe it. Color balance is 'shopped.)

Jeremiah Jump.

Jeremiah Jump
November 1, 2009

By far, one of the best people I've met in Oklahoma is Jerry Jump. He's just a solid guy that can talk about anything. We drove to Florida together and that car ride was as close to awesome as it could be just because he was in the car.

The last day of Fest, I was dead-tired. My feet were giving out underneath me. So, instead of standing around in a venue for six hours, Jerry and me took a break and got coffee. This picture's from that. There's not a whole lot I can say about it, really. If you know Jerry, you know he's man-petite. And it's all heart. The cup's actually for expresso shots so the angle makes it look much larger. Jerry said he'd finally found coffee his size.

(Taken with a Nikon S610. I never take enough pictures at Fest.)

I Wanna Go Fast.

I Wanna Go Fast
December 18, 2004

I didn't know it at the time, but this was the last Christmas I'd spend in Raton. My mom moved to Belen the next fall. In fact, it was the last time I'd spend more than a night in Raton, to date. And Raton during Christmas is a god damn riot. It's probably because I associate it with when I was a kid and Christmas ruled, but having Christmas in a town where people actually go to the Christmas tree lighting is sorta awesome. My old friend Kim said Raton was the kind of place she'd want to live in for a summer, fall in love and move away. I think that sounds like an amazing idea.

Raton loves Christmas. They put up all these lights all over the town. There's free movies, recitals, it's all very enchanting. Probably the funniest part is the City of Bethlehem and the jerks don't have a website. Basically, a few community groups sponsor these paintings on, well, plywood, to be put up in a canyon within the Raton city limits. You drive through this canyon and these paintings with plaques, that light up randomly, tell the story of the birth of the baby Jesus. But over the years they've added in more paintings that all have to do with Jesus, just not about his birth. So, really it's just a canyon for Christ. Every so often, some teenage hooligan will "break into" the canyon (and really I mean, walk in) and spray paint offensive things on the Jesus plywood paintings. Everyone in Raton gets really upset and then it's over in two weeks. The pagentry of Christmas in rural America.

Anyway, this Christmas, Stancie was working at the Holiday Inn Express and I spent the night hanging out with her and good friend Michael Vanbuskirk. This is one of those pictures where you stick the camera out the window out the window and see what happens. I got the motion blur, the Seasons Greetings sign and Stancie's battered car. I can't tell you how many miles I logged in the passenger seat of that very car, riding down that exact stretch of road. Probably thousands.

Banana Hands.

Banana Hands.
November 7, 2003

Kyle Anaya always said Chad had banana hands. If the definition of 'banana hands' is giant, then yes. He certainly did have banana hands.

I loved Chad's hands. They were calloused without exception and almost always had paint, marker or dirt all over them. Chad was a dude and he really couldn't keep himself clean. But I adored him for that and the rest of his simple ways. I've always liked the way paint or marker looks on hands. It's like you've actually done something with your day.

This picture is from the very, very beginning of our courtship; it's my hand inside his. We were sitting outside Rio Grande High School after a Big Spank show. I really liked this picture when I took it. It was my desktop wallpaper for probably our entire relationship. We dated for about six months, gloriously crashed & burned and now, almost seven years later, he's in federal prison. I might have dodged a bullet. Still like the picture though.

(Taken with a Sony DSC-P32. No photoshop. That lighting's pretty true. Why do all high schools have the same giant, fluorescent yellow lights?)

Hitting the Ground.

Hitting the Ground
June 15, 2005

I've been to Las Vegas once. It was a fucking weird experience. Maria and I drove there, we stayed at Circus Circus and ended up spending the weekend with a couple of dudes who were in town for a upper management of McDonalds conference. I had a lot of fun, really I did, but what I remember about it now was being sleep deprived and waiting for a dude I knew in California to call me. He never called and heart was broken. If I would have been thinking rationally, I would have gotten hammered and made some really awesome decisions. But as it was, I didn't drink much back then and I suffered through my trauma without my now trusted friend, Pabst Blue Ribbon. I felt hungover the entire trip, which was the worst part.

It wasn't a conventional sort of hangover. It was those terrible mental hangovers when things that you thought were stable just come crashing down all around you. I'd built this complete fantasy in my brain and it had years to construct. Within the span of a few days, it was completely gone. That's a hangover, when fantasy hits reality.

Anyway, I've always thought this picture symbolized that moment in that trip. I was hanging out in the lobby of the Mandalay Bay by myself in my pretty dress, a gift from Emily several months earlier. I loved that dress. It was my "little black dress" even though it was purple. (In fact, it became a favorite dress to wear when I would take pictures of myself at 5 in the morning. Two of my favorites. Man, my room in college was awesome.)

The good news is those hangovers don't last nearly as long as they feel like they will. Quicker than you can imagine, they go away. All it took was a few weeks at a gym and some of that PBR and I felt completely right. That summer was the biggest 180 I've been able to turn. Probably because it really all was just in my head.

It almost always is just in my head. And it always gets better. I need to remember that more.

(Taken with a Sony DSC-P32 and this is is freaking PhotoSHOPPED. I did it years and years ago, but I can tell there's a motion blur and some major color adjustment. A little red goes a long way. Original is here.)

Woodward, Oklahoma.

Woodward, Oklahoma
March 14, 2011

After I left New York, I spent some time in Pennsylvania, some more time in Detroit and Chicago. I got back to New Mexico the second week in February, the bar burned two weeks later. I've got a lot of pictures from that day but I don't particularly like any of them. I think a lot of them are pretty (in a way) and interesting and, you know, "good" images, but they're not the sort of thing I really enjoy looking at all that often (it really is amazing how much that's still a pit in my life). The rest of that year, until I hit age 23, was sort of a blur. And the pictures from it, not awesome. I was just burnt out, unhappy and unable to get rid of that.

So, new page, awesome.

This is from the last time I took the D80 into the light. I always end up with these jobs that let me go to fun and exciting places, like Woodward, Oklahoma, better known as the home of the deadliest tornado in Oklahoma history. I spent an exciting night in a Holiday Inn Express there, ate some Dairy Queen and found THE theater in town. Every small town has one. Luckily when I was there, it was bradford pear tree-blooming season, which is means there are little white flowers everywhere. The fruit from them, terrible, the flowers, quite lovely.

This was one of those euphoric Spring days in Oklahoma, when the wind's actually calm and the humidity's bearable. It felt a bit like Spring in Raton, which makes sense, because I was only like, two hours away from Raton. But it was the sort of day where you leave the windows down on your car, even if you're not in the car because you feel like you'd be ruining the moment by closing them. You just want to make sure you get as much of that air as possible. Does that make sense? Probably not.

In Woodward, I needed to mail something to my mom. I went to a diner that Urbanspoon told me was good (I was kinda disapointed though...) and every person in the restaurant chimed in when I asked directions to the post office. Yeah, Raton wasn't far.

(Taken with a Nikon D-80, 18-135mm AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor Lens. Exposure 1/300, Aperture f/7.1. This picture was an accident. I wanted to see what aperature I was shooting at. But it turned out to be my favorite from the day. It's also interesting to note that is from the first time I used the D80 since I started this project.)

Bingo Shoes.

Bingo Shoes
January 13, 2008

It was so windy when we went to Coney Island. Like, Oklahoma-windy. But with sand, not red dirt. Shit hurts.

But Kyle and I braved it for at least a bit. The thing about Coney Island in January is that it's completely shut down, locked up and gated. There's still a few locals patrolling the boardwalk and one or two dumb ass tourists (like me) trolling around with cameras, but for the most part, it's a ghostland. There's a lot of romanticism around the "boardwalk" and hanging out on one, when it basically looks like a deserted film set was pretty surreal. I instantly thought about my Coney Island trip when I saw the Wrestler and that scene where he dances with his daughter.

This picture's great because the wind/sand makes it look blurry. The focus is soft anyway (note the point and shot decided to focus on the wood of the bench, not the actual focal point, the shoes, which is something I probably would have made an SLR do anyway) but the wind helps it out even more. I love the tiny people you can see, like little ghosts, you can't really make out anything distinguishing about them.

Sometimes I feel like this blog is actually a criticism paper I'm writing for an art studio class, which kinda makes me wanna die inside. I'll try to figure out how to get around that.

(Bonus Coney Island shot.)

(Taken with the Nikon S1. It's grayscaled and contrasted, of course. I played with the levels a bit, but not much.)

Maps.

Maps.
January 13, 2008

Myspace angle!

This hoodie has a great story. Not only is it awesome, but Kyle used to take linguistics classes with my friend Jex. They didn't know eachother and I had no idea they had classes together until Jex posted a picture of Kyle's hoodie on her blog. Small world. (Later on, she'd take this picture with me and Kyle's hoodie outside Anodyne.)

So, my favorite part of this picture is the hoodie almost makes the Subway above ground. GET IT. No, I really like the color and the skin tone. The sun that day makes Kyle look like he's glowing. The detail's really nice (as always, click for the bigger image) with his chapped lips and his scruf. I also really like the sidewalk. One day, I'll take a trip to NYC and take pictures of nothing but sidewalk. Everyone's always so fascinated with how tall New York is. The streets are the interesting part.

If my relationship with Kyle had a honeymoon, we definitely took it in New York City.

(Taken with a Nikon S1. Levels are auto'd.)

Nerds in Love.

Nerds in Love
January 9, 2008

Almost immediately after Maria left, Kyle came to visit. I really had the best time when I was staying with Grandpa. That was an awesome month.

The first place I took Kyle was to the American Museum of Natural History. I loved, loved, LOVED that place when I was a kid. I still do. It's the reason I fell in love with museums and the reason I want to work in one. I remember very little of it when I was younger, but I knew I loved dinosaurs and I wanted to hang out with them every day. Little did I know that one day, I'd figure out you can have a career where someone pays you to do that. Go figure.

I've got some issues with the museum now that I sort of understand that it's basically just a collection of taxidermy and things Teddy Roosevelt shot. But it's collection is emmense and that sort of undertaking, regardless of personal biases, is worth witnessing. I prefer my museums to be a little more interactive now, more of a community center than a card catalouge if that makes any sense. But the AMNH will have a place in my heart forever.

So will the dude sitting to my right. the picture's taken on the steps of the AMNH. Our collective nerd brains about exploded that day.

(Taken with the Nikon S1. Grayscaled and contrasted.)

Immigration Island.

Immigration Island
January 3, 2008

I am a firm believer in ghosts. As firm as one can be about that sort of thing. I have no idea what/who they are, but there's got to be something there. I've spent far too long hanging out in old theaters and abandoned buildings to believe that no one would want to come back to those places after they exit this brief existence.

I personally hope to one day meet the invisible friends in the Golden West/El Rey. Trust me, they're in there. There was always something in the back of my brain that knew I was never actually alone in there. I think I liked that better, almost like they were protecting me.

The only time I've ever felt threatened by my Golden rey friends was right after the fire. I was walking through the El Rey, all the lights were off and I felt something not quite shove me, but not quite wind come up behind me. My heart jumped out of my chest and just then, the front door opened, lighting up the whole building. Crazy stuff. It's the one ghost story I've got and it's completely possible that it was my own anxieties just massing but I'd rather believe it was a ghost. And I don't blame the guy. I was plenty mad, too.

Back to the photo, I can't think of a more haunted space then Ellis Island. It's my favorite NYC tourist destination. Skip over the Statue of Liberty and go there. Way cooler. And you'll probably learn something about your family. I can't personally trace my family there, as my mother's family immigrated from Canada and there's a few adoptions messing up things on my dad's side. But I'm sure someone related to my dad came through there. Ellis Island is definitely in my top 5 museums I want to work at list. Really, an awesome collection.

This photo's in the main hall, which once upon a time, had lines that used to wind for days. And it's pretty amazing to think about everyone who once stood where I was. Clearly, this photo makes me think about ghosts.

Once again, let's shoot this from a low angle and see what happens. God girl, get some variety. Remember myspace angles? Those were awesome. What? That still happens? Sorry. I haven't been over there in a while.

Port Authority.

Port Authority
January 1, 2008

This was my new year. After standing for what felt like an eternity, and what was actually six hours, Maria and I drug ourselves through Times Square and back into Port Authority to catch our ride home. I've never been so happy to sit on that disgusting, germ infested floor as when I sat down right then.

Port Authority is my gateway to New York City. I've never taken a ferry or a train to get there. I've always relied on the buses powered by New Jersey Transit, specifically route 161, the Patterson/Passaic route. I really wish they made NJT apparel, like the NYC subway stuff. There's no glamor in that commute, which is surreal, considering where it takes you. Plus, it really makes me feel close to my grandfather, as he made that commute every day for 40+ years.

Just the way I like to set my camera on a table for a picture, I like to do the same on the floor. That disgusting floor. I took one with a pigeon, which is even more perfect, but it was too blurry. I really do hate using my flash. Once again, makes me feel too obvious. I love how beat down everyone looks, especially the guy sittings' back posture.

(Taken with the Nikon S1. Who needs Photoshop when it's already that gritty?)

New Korea.

New Korea
December 30, 2007

I can't get enough of this photo. And bare with me because this is the first of a whole lot of New York City photos. But this one, I really like. The balance is just awesome. I'm a huge proponent of just seating a camera on a table and seeing what you pick up. Probably because it's discreat. That's exactly what this is.

Maria came to see me while I was in New Jersey. We did the New Years Eve in Times Square-thing, among other events. We went shopping at Macy's and wandered looking for sushi, but found a Korean place. Probably the most New York-thing I did when I visited, just wandered, found a restaurant and ate. I'd never eaten Korean food before (except for Korean BBQ) and it was a lot of fun. Both me and Maria were a little scared.

It helps that I have this habit of living with really attractive, photogenic people. The black blob on the left is one of those stone bowls that cooks Korean food while you eat it (just learned that no, there is no fancy name for those. They're just 'stone bowls'). All of the different wood-textures throughout the picture are nice. That's what she said.

(Taken with Nikon S1. No photoshop.)

Enchantment in the Garden State.

Enchantment in the Garden State
December 24, 2007

(And that's the first photo I haven't had to triple-check the date for, hooray...) I was in Little Ferry, new Jersey for Christmas with Grandpa. On Christmas Eve, he took me out for a fancy Italian dinner at the sort of place that has a Soprano's-esqe back room for mafia activities. You better believe the food was amazing. Cheesecake not served in that restaurant is ruined forever.

And while we were eating, I left these candles burning outside my grandfather's white picket fence. Luminaria's are a New Mexican Christmas tradition. They're supposed to signify that your house is open, unlike that bastard inn, to Mary and Joseph. They're stupid-pretty. There's even electric ones, which I've come to appreciate as well. The electric ones are sort of like eating green chile in Oklahoma: "Well... okay."

I took Grandpa to the grocery store to buy tea lights, brown paper bags and kitty litter the day before. I sat on his porch and made the luminaria's while he watched from inside the warm house. He thought it was the greatest thing to ever happen when they were lit. I don't think he quite understood as Grandpa was a little hard of hearing and I pretty much had to scream the story at him, but I think he thought they were pretty too. He was a little worried the neighbors would call the fire department, but no such luck.

I like this picture because of how grainy it looks. Some people would call that bad resolution, I call it awesome. It looks like a film camera took it. And the New Mexican luminarias lighting up that quintessential white picket fence is just about perfect.

That was a great Christmas.

(Taken with my one and only, the Nikon S1. It really was the only camera I took on the trip.)

French Doors.

French Doors
December 13, 2007

Being in Quebec wasn't easy for me. I had a significant realization there, I think it all clicked that what I was doing was really just prolonging the inevitable. I'd have to come back home, I'd have to get a job and this journey couldn't last forever. Not sure why it happened there, but I had a lot of time to think in Quebec.

Not learning French is something that infuriates me. I'm really mad at myself for it and I was especially mad about it when I went to Quebec and could barely communicate with my family. Bless the ones who spoke English. Bless them for taking mercy on ignorant, little me. I can make all the excuses I want, but I really should have tried so much more. It sort of put a damper on my stay there. While I had a great time, learned so much, I still wish I could have done more and learned more. I'm hoping to visit Quebec this Christmas with Mom. I think I'd have a much better perspective of it now.

This picture is of Ste. Croix's Catholic church. Ste. Croix is where I stayed during my visit. It's a small town, maybe 2,000 people. But it's enough for a giant, fuck off Catholic church. I took this during a solitary walk around the town. It was snowing, but really, when was it not snowing? It was also probably 3:00pm, which is pretty much bedtime up there during the winter. It gets dark super early.

(Taken with a Nikon S1. No photoshop.)

Quebecois.

Quebecois.
December 10, 2007

Doing this year-recap-thing is making me realize how much I did in a 365 day period. It's ridiculous. I went snow-shoeing in the Quebec tundra!

I'm crazy about the light in this picture. My cousin Rene and I were walking in a trail behind his house in a reforestation area. The trees were young and skinny and the sun was setting so the light coming through them was amazing. It's really flat in Quebec; it's all river basin until you get into the high north, which no one goes to because it stays frozen year round. So there's sun for days in populated Quebec. It's a lot like the Mid West, really. Minus all the french-talk.

(Taken with Nikon S1. No p-shop.)

It's Hidden in the Mist.

It's Hidden in the Mist
December 4, 2007

Interesting fact about our neighbor to the north, lodging is really expensive, like $80 canadian for a Motel 6-caliber room. That is, unless you want to stay around Niagara Falls in the dead of winter. So I took an hour or so detour to gaze upon one of the wonders of the world. Bitches were giving away rooms just because they were lonely.

It was pretty interesting. There were maaaaybe four people there. That's a weird feeling, to be the only car in a 500-car parking lot. It was freezing. This famous mist was freezing over the walkways and stones around the park (it wouldn't be until a year later when I would learn that someone precipitation does freeze into something other than snow and that is when an ice storm happens...) and the only restaurant open in the complex was the trusty Tim Hortons. Tim Hortons is basically the Canadian McDonalds but so much better. So I sat watching the mist on a frozen bench in an empty park and shared my bagel sandwich with a seagull. It really hammered in how alone I was on this adventure, especially since I couldn't use my cell phone in Canada. Here was little old me, surrounded by fenced up gift shops, restaurants, empty parking lots and tons upon tons of gallons of water; Mr. Seagull my only buddy. But it wasn't a sad feeling, it was liberating, the sort of independence I think I drove all that way to try and find. I'd learn later that there are things far superior to independence but I still crave that feeling from time to time.

Picture's a reminder of that. I like how much of it is hidden. Somewhere, Scarlett O'Hara's fanning herself in a desperate attempt to know all of its secrets.

On a side note, everyone always says that the Canadian side of Niagara Falls is much prettier than the American side. I can't speak to that, since I've never seen the American side, but it was pretty. However, Canadians don't put nearly the same restrictions on natural parks that the US does (thanks, T. Roosevelt) and there are casinos, like, right in the water. That was a little gross. I could have stayed in one but I opted for the Super 8 down the road where, like I said, it was practically free and they gave me a handicap room. I went swimming in that bathtub for hours.

(Taken with a Nikon S1. No photoshopping. Kyle's a good dude, by the way. Letting me drive his camera across the world.)

Arch.

Arch
November 25, 2007

And we’re off. I left for Quebec in mid-November. I spent a haggard week in Oklahoma then headed for Detroit, stopping for the night outside of St. Louis. I decided that night in my motel room that I would eat breakfast under the arch. I got up pretty early, I had 8 hours of driving on roads I’ve never been on, I found a Krispy Kreme, bought a doughnut and stumbled around downtown St. Louis until I found parking for the arch. It was so, so cold that day. Don’t think it got above 10 degrees for my breakfast. I think that picture does a great job of showing that.

That coat has an extensive history. I found it in my high school best friends’ closet and never returned it. The coat was her mothers and when I started wearing it to Raton High, all of my teachers remembered it from it’s original owner. There aren’t very many lavender leather pea coats around.

I love this picture, I love the depth. But I hate how sad I look in it. I was scared, I wasn’t sad. I put the camera on a bench, set the timer and ate some doughnut. I also didn’t want to actually sit down because it had rained the night before and the concrete was really wet. I also didn’t want to leave my camera sitting on a bench, even for 10 seconds. I was irrationally terrified that some giant, homeless man was going to steal it.

(Taken with Nikon S1. No photoshop.)

Bah.

Bah.
September 12, 2007

State Fair, guys. Seriously. Is it September yet? I like that I have two state fairs to frequent now. I get to find totally new and awesome things at the Oklahoma fair and I can draw you a map of the New Mexico one. It’s a great balance.

This gem is from the petting zoo at the New Mexico State Fair (no friends, not the Expo.). I have to watch myself with petting zoos. You never know where a llama can be hiding. This photo was an accident. I love the green and the zebra in the background. In fact, I really didn’t notice it until I was going through photos for this project. SEE. Photoblog is useful!


(Taken with Nikon D3x, Leica APO-Tele-Elmar 180mm f/3.5. APRIL FOOLS. I actually don’t have $12,000 for a camera. Nikon S1 for reals.)

Thanks for the Memories

Thanks for the Memories
August 24, 2007

It’s fairly easy to make Tucumcari, New Mexico look post-apocalyptic. Doesn’t take much. You’ve just got to wait for that one car to pass by.

This is where my dad lives. In fact, my dad’s job is economic development. It sorta works, though. It’s like being given a clean slate.

I like visiting him in Tucumcari. Life really is just slower there. It’s nice to go to bed at 9, wake up at 6 and feel completely rested. There’s also some gems to eat at. It reminds me a lot of Raton, of course. I have no idea what the story is for this specific restaurant, but I know it’s been like that since my dad moved there.

Tucumcari’s the sort of place you can’t stay long in. It’s an overnight stay at max. But it’ll be a pleasant overnight.

(Taken with Nikon S1. Levels, colors and contrast are auto’d in p-shop.)

Mohammed the Great

Mohammed the Great
August 8, 2007

I gave my mom official ownership of my cat when I went to college. But he was always delighted to see me when I came home. Mohammed was a special creature. He never learned to meow, he would only squeak. When my dad purchased him, he assumed little cats had little tails. Mohammed was missing about two thirds of his tail, which he would wag with joy whenever he was pleased. Basically he had the best life ever. And he made mine pretty awesome too.

Once again, no flash. Taken in my momma’s house. I cropped out an overhead lamp. I think it makes it look even more peaceful. Mom’s in the right side of the picture. I think she liked that kitty a bit.

(Taken with a Nikon S1. No photochop.)

The Green West

The Green West
June 29, 2007

I came back home after hanging out in Oklahoma for a while. I almost moved for good that trip; I looked at moving in with Chelsey way back then. But it was good I came home. I spent most of my time just hiding, trying to get my head on straight. I slept in late, swam in Kyle's pool almost every day and ate a lot of burritos. That was the good life.

The fire in the Golden West is still a sore spot for me. It's simple as to why, I just miss it. I can hang out with all of the same people who worked there but it'll never be the same. But mostly I'm sad that it's still an empty hole, in every sense of the word.

I've got a million pictures of that place and it's surreal to look at them. This one is probably my favorite, but it's hard for me to pick. I've realized just how much I hate using a flash. I'd much rather set the camera on a flat surface and leave the shutter open forever. Patience, friends. The green is from an Alien IPA beer sign that hung directly above the taps. My camera was sitting on the bar, right at the end. That was favorite post when I wasn't working.

(Taken with a Nikon S1. It was Kyle's camera that he bought from Aaron then gave to me after I broke the screen on my birthday present camera.)

America's Past Time.

America's Past Time.
June 20, 2007

While I was staying in Oklahoma, me and Matt went to go see the Rangers play the Cubs in Arlington. At the time, it was the first professional sporting event I'd ever been to, which seems silly now, after all the Thunder games I've racked up. I can't even tell you who won.

But it was quite enchanting. The sunset was amazing that night. Between that, the baseball and a few beers, I refer to it as the first time I actually had fun in Texas.

(Taken with a Nikon Coolpix L3. Balanced on probably the seat in front of me.)

Prints.

Prints.
June 8, 2007

Already losing motivation, blegh. The last 10 or so blogs were back-blogged (as if you couldn't tell. Here's a list of things I don't do: 1. Wake up earlier than needed to blog.) and I finally ran out of them. So I'm trying to keep myself up and at least make it 40 days. Really, how hard can it be? #whitegirlproblems

So, the next ten or so images are from one specific year: that of my age of 22. I was fresh out of college. May of 2007 was the last time I intended to pay rent anywhere for a significant amount of time. My goal was to live as minimally as possible. My official address was with my mom, but I spent a significant amount of time at Kyles' and bouncing between friends houses. I also drove quite a bit, including all the way to Quebec. (that year has been blogged about a lot over here.) It was probably the most crucial year I've got so far. I always ask people lately if they learned about themselves whenever they do things. I learned a whole lot about myself that year.

This photo was taken at the Denver Art Museum on their sculpture garden. Denver was a stop on a mini-trip I took; through Raton, Denver, Kansas and Oklahoma. I stayed with one of my best friends from high school, Sarah Wright, who's actually an amazing photographer. What I like the most about it are the hand prints and how the wall, which I think was copper, actually looks like flesh. The light was just about perfect for making that wall look like that.

(Taken with Nikon Coolpix L3. Sad story about that camera: It was a Christmas present from Kyle and I cracked the screen the day before I took this, on my birthday. I got pretty lucky on most of my Denver photos, since I couldn't really see what I was actually taking photos of. No photoshopping.)

The Panhandle I

The Panhandle.
April 10, 2010

I've got this love affair with the Texas Panhandle. It's painful and violent. Sort of like that Eminem song? I like the way it lies. It's just nothing for miles and the pockets of civilization within it are so ignorant that it makes me scream. But I'm still completely enchanted with it.

My grandma lives in Pampa, Texas which is sort of the capital of the Panhandle. My uncle's there too and it's where my dad grew up. I spent a lot of holidays there as a kid. My family loves it there. They are "upstanding members" of the Pampa community. I dunno, maybe a little piece of it is wedged into my DNA, the same way I love New Jersey so much I can't stand it.

This is taken on US-70, about 40 miles south of Pampa. Nothingness for miles. Not even power lines or cows.

(Taken with a Nikon D-80, 18-135mm AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor Lens. Exposure 1/320, Aperture f/9.0. Color balance in the sky is photoshopped. I'm obsessed with skies looking as blue as possible, even if they weren't that blue on that day.)

Angels in California.

Angels in California
November 13, 2010

When I ran off to take pictures of the palm trees next to the LACMA in LA, one of Ashley's friends said, "All the tourists are so fascinated with the palm trees!" Why yes! Same deal as magnolia trees. It's new, it's exotic and it's iconic. Do you think I give a shit about photographing hot air balloons? Shoot me in the face first.

Joel has some of my favorite tattoos in the world. Not nessacerily the craftsmanship (which they're lovely, no hate) but just something about the placement and how simple they are on him. He just wears them well, if that makes any sense. I guess if I knew him before he had them, they might seem weird but when I met Joel, they were already there and I can't imagine his arms without them.

This picture reminds me of my friend Jex's photography. She'll walk up to people who have tattoos she likes and asks if she can photograph them. It's sort of a thing, if you run into Jex, she will take your picture. I wish I could be so bold about it. Photography's always been such a private thing for me. I think I miss out on a lot because of it.

Privacy is probably why I like this photo so much. It's almost like a secret. I just snapped this one by chance, but I think it might be MY image of California. The palm tree, the bright sky, Joel (really Ashley is more California but they'll be permanently associated with LA for me) and his angel tattoos. It's the City of Angels after all.

(Taken with a Nikon D-80, 18-135mm AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor Lens. Exposure 1/250, Aperture f/8.0, No Photoshop.)

Crude Oil.

Crude Oil
November 13, 2010

When I went to Los Angeles, I really wanted to give it a chance. I've never really enjoyed being there, I've always been more of an East-Coast lady. But the best lady I know, miss Ashley Anderson, loves her city quite intensely. And that's good enough for me.

I was torn about what to do and where to go. We decided on the tar pits, as Ashley and Joel hadn't been there either. It really is an awesome little piece of LA. It's this place from the past that's literally bubbling up into the most progressive and futuristic of cities. Sort of a testament to the planet; you can build whatever the fuck you want but it's still gonna do whatever it wants to do.

They've got this one pit that they dug up a juvenile mastodon that they left intact so visitors could see the process and how it's still an active archeology site. Oil was still bubbling up from the ground and this photo is the reflection of a light hanging in the site. I stood there for a good 20 minutes taking pictures because I thought they looked so surreal.

It's a lot like what I said about Albuquerque and how hard it is to take pictures of; capturing a little slice of LA.

(Taken with a Nikon D-80, 18-135mm AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor Lens. Exposure 1/15, Aperture f/5.3, No Photoshop. I was using the railing as a makeshift tripod. I took probably 200 photos trying to get it right.)

Stick Food.

Stick Food
September 25, 2009

The State Fair is my favorite time to take pictures, as I think it is for a lot of people. You can't imagine the people watching, the sort of folk who only come out twice a year (the state fair and Christmas shopping at the mall), and pile that on top of livestock, the worst/best food America has to offer, flashy lights, screaming children and big ass pumpkins. Put me on that list, keep me on it, never remove me. It's a complete sensory overload.

Kenneth's family used to sell ribbon flowers at the fair (right next to the South American flute players) which meant he spent a lot of days surrounded by a lot of madness. When he moved in, he took me with him. Good times at the ribbon flower cart; me and Kyle Anaya would run all over the park and take pictures.

This particular picture is from the Oklahoma State Fair last year.

(Taken with a Nikon D-80, 18-135mm AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor Lens. Exposure 1/6, Aperture f/5.6. Reds and greens are color balanced.)