The Puppy Has a Home, but Needs a Name.

The Puppy Has a Home, but Needs a Name.
August 5, 2009

Crap, dudes. How cute was my puppy? I've seen a lot of pups in my day and they're all stupid cute (week old sharpei's are nothing but rolls of fur and love) but this puppy seriously takes it. I've never seen a cuter puppy. I fully acknowledge that I'm biased, but I'm not the only one. Gertie made people melt when they saw her. The toughest people in the world into piles of goo and baby-talk. The dog has special powers.

The pup came to us via twitter. Chelsey's friend and tattoo artist Ashley owns a shop in the Plaza District of OKC and the owner of a gallery across the street from her shop had found a litter of puppies in their alley. Someone just dropped off Gertie and her 6 siblings at the baby-age of 8 weeks. The lady who found them got their first round of shots donated and by the time we got to the shop, all the puppies except Gertie, the runt, and one of her brothers had been adopted. It was just pure love at first sight. She was a little sleeping angel.

Who later went on to become a destructamatron of a barking machine. But that's not the point.

Chelsey and I had the hardest time naming her. We went through everything we could. We knew we wanted her to have an Oklahoma-related name, as she was a native. We finally came around to Oklahoma the Musical and the character, Gertie Cummings. It fit her perfectly. This picture is from the first night we had her and one of the ones I sort of had forgotten about. Oh, those brown eyes.

(Taken with a Nikon D-80, 18-135mm AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor Lens. Exposure 1/60, Aperture f/4. No Photoshop. Built in flash used. Pretty sure the camera was balancing on the bench when I took it.)

Turner Falls.

October 16, 2010

One of those blah de blah nature pictures from my Turner Falls trip. What I really like about this one is the reflection, the amount of color in it. In the immortal words of Stan Brakage, "Imagine an eye unruled by man-made laws of perspective... How many colors are there in a field of grass to the crawling baby unaware of 'Green'? ...Imagine a world before the 'beginning was the word'." (I write a lot about that whole idea right here) If you sit and stare at it, just stare, the color most common in it is white. But if you glance at it, it's green.

Either way, it's pretty much a post card. Love you forever, D80 and how easy you make taking photos. Once again, this is the part of Oklahoma you don't think about if you don't know. But there is so much water here. It's so stupid humid in the summer because of it, it feels like New Jersey. Once again, shit you don't expect unless you've been here. The dust bowl's over, you guys.

(Taken with a Nikon D-80, 18-135mm AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor Lens. Exposure 1/125, Aperture f/5.0. Once again, bright day. Color balance is auto'd in Photoshop.)

Red.

Red.
October 16, 2010

SHIT. BITCH IS TAKING PICS OF HER FEET. What's next, myspace angles and contrast? Oh, you have no idea how deep this hole can go.

What I really love about this photo is the color. The browns and the reds and just that little piece of green. I was going back through this folder of photos that I took around Turner Falls and this picture just popped at me. All the other photos, some of which I really love, just sort of blended together but this flash of red that does not and can not occur in nature caught my eye. It's sort of like those black and white photos that Hallmark puts on greeting cards that are all black and white but a balloon or bubblegum will be a different color (which, vomit on those by the way).

Moral of the story, the best pictures happen by accident.

(Taken with a Nikon D-80, 18-135mm AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor Lens. Exposure 1/160, Aperture f/6.3. No Photoshop. It was so bright that day.)

Peace.

Peace
October 22, 2003

Kyle Anaya got ahold of these flairs, from where I don't know, and we used to wander tunnels underneath Albuquerque with them. They're closed off now, but it used to be remarkably easy to get into the tunnels that run underneath the UNM hospital. They're huge and extensive. I'm sure you could spend days down there.

This picture was a complete fluke accident. I didn't even notice that you could see Kyle and Chad's face until years later. It scares me now how angry Chad looks. My favorite picture of all-time that I've taken came from a similiar adventure, but I don't want to blow my load just yet.

(Taken with the beast, Sony Cybershot DSC-P32. No 'shopping.)

Timothy Lockwood Armstrong.

Timothy Lockwood Armstrong
January 6, 2006

I can't explain how much I love punk rock. It's the sort of thing that won't go away. Even if it was faultering, I'd fight to keep it around. Thankfully, I've never had to fight that hard. It's been an easy love affair.

I've spent years trying to duplicate the feeling of release it gave me when I was 16 and I've never been able to find it. So, I just add more of it. And while there might be periods in my life where it's not as prominent, it's there. I drove to Woodward this past weekend and listened to nothing but the Lawrence Arms the entire way and screamed every word.

In Ben Fold’s iTunes originals series, he does an Elliot Smith cover and before he plays it, he says a little bit about Elliot Smith, what a loss his death was and so on. But Ben also says one of the most profound things Elliot ever told him was “If you grow up with yelling in your house, the last thing you want to do is make records of yelling.” Ben goes on to talk about how this little rule might sum up what’s so wrong with modern rock music: “yelling as recreation”. But I think that was why I fell in love with punk rock so hard; I wanted nothing more than my parents to yell at eachother, at least be honest with eachother.

Rancid was the first punk band I really fell in love with. They were my cornerstone in all of it. And their cornerstone was a place called 924 Gilman Street in Berkeley, California. Gilman was the cornerstone for a lot of bands around that time; Operation Ivy played their first and last show there, Green Day, NOFX, even Jawbreaker had a stay there. So, when I went to San Francisco, I decided I needed to see it. I went with Angie and she decided that day we'd go to Gilman and we'd go to the Castro. It was the best day I had in the Bay Area.

The club is still open, still a DIY project, still won't let any band signed to a major label play there. Quite the testament to what it built.

It wasn't open, nor did I expect it to be. And one of these days, I'll see a show there. But it looked like every other brick building on the street. No signage, no remarkable characteristics. But it was absolutely worth the trip. I know what came out of there. No sign can tell me that.

I did like the duct tape piece on the brick. Oh, what a beautiful marriage punk rock has with duct tape.

(Taken with a Sony DSC-P32. What a trusty beast that camera was. Color balance is totally photoshopped.)

Fuck off, Magnolia.

Fuck off, Magnolia.
May 26, 2010

In honor of St. Patrick, have something green.

The Barton's backyard is a refuge of sorts. I remember the first time Tyler showed it to me and being completely in awe. I want a yard like that. Do I want the work associated with a yard like that? Nooooo. Thankfully, Laura does.

They've got this giant magnolia tree in their backyard, which they'll tell you almost instantly is the worst tree in creation. But my desert ways are instantly entralled with it. "You mean it blooms??! The tree blooms??! It's like living in Georgia! Get me the sweet tea!" Pretty sure Tyler thought I was insane with the amount of time I spent taking pictures of that tree.

From wiki: "Magnolia is an ancient genus. Having evolved before bees appeared, the flowers developed to encourage pollination by beetles. As a result, the carpels of Magnolia flowers are tough, to avoid damage by eating and crawling beetles. Fossilised specimens of M. acuminata have been found dating to 20 million years ago, and of plants identifiably belonging to the Magnoliaceae dating to 95 million years ago." So, I don't care. Magnolia's are badass.

I've also learned that they're fantastically terrible to take care of. There's one right by my house that the owners have just decided to set free and the mangnitude of this beast cannot be overstated. In fact when Greg gave me directions for the first time, he said, "Turn left at the giant fuck-off magnolia." If that tree ever dies, I won't be able to find my house.

(Taken with a Nikon D-80, 18-135mm AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor Lens. Exposure 1/25, Aperture f/5.6. My lens was zoomed as far as it would go. Camera was on a tripod and I used a remote. I was probably an easy 40 feet away from that flower. No photoshopping.)

Freakishly Tall.

Freakishly Tall
September 17, 2004

I've been taking pictures of The Big Spank since I've been taking pictures. I guarantee that if you've reading this, with a few very precious exceptions, I met you because of The Big Spank. Anyone in Oklahoma, yeah, it all comes back to a few trips in the back of a Penske truck that I took to Norman with those guys. I met Matt McHughes because his band needed a show in Albuquerque and I never would have been promoting if not for the Spank. Emily (Stone) Kohen came into my life then, and together we met a lot of dancin' ladies. It's amazing just how significant 6 dudes in an almost-ska band became in my life. Big Spank shows are probably my best memories from college.

Brian was their trumpet player for a long time. Brian and I had an odd frienship. In fact, I don't think we were speaking very much when I took this picture of him. I take most of the responsibility for that. I was sort of silly back then when it came to boys (I still am. Jesus Christ, I still am) but more so naive. He was a nice guy and if I'd had my senses about me, we would have been more than just friends. I remember one night not long after I took this picture, I came home late at night and a random SUV was parked in front of my house. I was home alone and panicked when the hazard lights came on in the car. For some reason, I called Brian and he came over. He stayed the night with me, just so I wouldn't have to be alone. I'm pretty sure I passed out almost exactly when he got there, just having someone there was enough to calm me down. He stayed till I was sound asleep and he left sometime in the morning. I felt really silly about it all but he didn't seem to care.

Everyone told Brian he was freakishly tall. Since he was over 6 feet tall and everyone else in his band was under 5'5". It made him seem every more like a superhero.

(Shot with a Sony DSC-P32. Color balance was photoshopped years ago. I think the original file no longer exists.)

Survivor Tree.

Survivor Tree
March 17, 2010

And on the note of devastation,

It really is a good tree. Not so much around the time I took this, but in the Spring with all it's pretty leaves. That's the best part about trees. Once they're old enough, you really can't kill them. One of these days, that tree will die. Probably not in my lifetime, but as trees tend to do, it'll get old and tired of supporting itself. And it'll be a sad day.

It's the most photographed tree in the state of Oklahoma. Probably in the region. And how does one photograph something like that and make it look unique? You got me. (This whole project is making me release how picky and cynical I am about the pictures I take. I really need to just take some of my own advice and calm down. It's okay to like simple, pretty pictures.)

(Taken with a Nikon D-80, 18-135mm AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor Lens. Exposure 1/320, Aperture f/5.3. Photoshopped the black and white with contrast.)

I Can't Ever Breathe.

I Can't Ever Breathe
November 11, 2006

I think seeing a natural disaster like what's happening in Japan makes people think of their personal catastrophes, natural or not. So, it's got me in a weird mood. It can happen here and it will happen here. It's only a matter of time. And if Oklahoma is proof of anything, it's that.

In 2006, I took a trip to Mississippi to see my friend Angie and to film some of the damage from Hurricane Katrina, yet another one of those surreal life-stocking experiences. I made it a point to focus on Mississippi and not New Orleans. I sort of felt like Gulfport and Biloxi got a little forgotten in all of that. Even though their damage wasn't nearly as traumatic or expensive, a lot of people lost a lot of things that were important to them. Archives from the Jefferson Davis Presidential Library (because yes, he was a president and yes, he does have one) were lost forever in floods and fires. Angie showed me a public library that became an indoor paintball range almost overnight. This photo is of what used to be a Super 8. I shifted through a lot of the damage that day and found a room phone, still clearly labeled as being from Room 204 (which I later named the 16mm film project I did with the footage I shot). I've still got the phone and I still can't get all the sand out of inside of it.

It's important to note that I took this photo in November 2006. Hurricane Katrina was in September of 2005. It's important to remember that. Rebuilding is a process. If you've got a few dollars, send them to the Red Cross. I promise they'll find a good home.

(Shot with a Nikon S1. Contrast is photoshopped. And very tastefully, if I might add.)

Sutton.

February 12, 2011

When people who don't live in Oklahoma think about Oklahoma, I don't think this is the image they see. I get a little sick of defending why I live here. It's pretty, I promise.

This is taken in the Sutton Wilderness, in Norman. I hear it's a great place to meet a gentleman. The day I went for a hike around it, most of the lake was frozen solid.

(Taken with a Nikon D-80, 18-135mm AF-S DX Zoom-Nikkor Lens. Exposure 1/160, Aperture f/6.3. No photoshopping.)