I love urban decay.  It always reminds me that on a large enough time scale, the idea of permanence is an illusion.  As a child I envisioned the world as a static place – never changing, always staying the way I remember and how I experienced it.  Oh to stay that naive.  Anyway, I pass this dying (could already be dead) used car dealership on an almost daily basis always wondering what life used to animate it.  I can just picture a gentleman wearing a plaid leisure suit huryring out to greet you while you kick the tires of the ’78 Eldorado on the lot.

“This one’s a beauty,” he says slicking his hair back and adjusting his gold pinky ring.  His pomade smells of desperation.

The dandelion.  Taraxacum officinale. Looked on with disdain by gardeners and lawn aficionados alike.  It’s difficult to even fathom the measures Suburbia takes to eradicate this plant.  Why is something, in possession of such beauty, hated so much?  Drink more dandelion wine, I say, and leave this weed alone.

Time, and how we map its relations to events in our lives, can be mysterious and a very abstract idea. I read the BBC news on a somewhat regular basis and came across an article about the Amondawa tribe in the Amazon. The tribe was discovered by the outside world in 1986 and have been studied since. Come to find out, their language has no word for “time” or even periods of time – day, week, month, etc. They can recognize a sequence of events in time, but time is not a separate concept. Rather than referring to their ages in years, they assume different names for different stages in their life. What we perceive as time and how we construct this separate entity doesn’t exist for these people.  It’s highly probable the Amondawa have a greater symbiotic relation with their land, its inhabitants, and the planet in general than say the typical Western society may. This could account for the lack of a “time” construct. I would even venture to say since the Amondawa are far less removed, so to speak, from their hunter/gatherer ancestors and have known a way of life not corrupted by an outside influence for hundreds if not thousands of years, there is a greater feeling of interconnectedness with everything past, present, and future. Essentially, everything exists in the now.

I tend to focus on one particular task at the detriment of others sharing a similar level of priority on my list.  With the nice temps we’ve experienced I have been solely focused on whipping my yard and veggie garden into shape.  After toiling in the soil and removing all the dirt and detritus from under my fingernails I almost forgot to grab a photo for the day.  Expensive electronic equipment and compost do not mix well.  Of course Sarah gets angered that I have taken on a photo project when there is so much more to do on a daily basis.  Nevertheless, I managed to grab a shot while thinking of the next priority on my list – cleaning and sealing all the grout in the house.  Cheers.

Another beautiful prelude to the long, hot, summer days in Southeastern Wisconsin.  Am I too young to wax nostalgic for the summers of yesteryear?

Sometimes our visions aspire for the heavens while other times they fail to even leave the dirt at our feet.  This vision was born of my lovely wife for our recent baby/family shoot.  The elements of the field and all its natural glory stand in stark contrast to the man made chair – something our ancestors on the savannah could never dream of.   Needless to say, the combination of the two worked extremely well and provided a dramatic image.  Great vision Sarah.

From the first time I watched Mr. Miagi manipulate and care for his bonsai trees in the Karate Kid series as a kid, I have always been fascinated with the art of bonsai.  I have several specimens that I have been caring for over the years and always welcome new additions to my mini family.  My family humor my small obsession and help foster my collection and hobby with encouraging words and sometimes a plant or tree here and there.  My mother-in-law, Pat (one of the most thoughtful people I  know and probably the reason my wife is such a thoughtful person) saw this little guy at a local greenhouse supply store and thought of me instantly.  Thank you Mom.  The specimen is Chamaecyparis pisifera, a.k.a. Tsukumo Dwarf Sawara Cypress.  It retains its globe shape and typically only grows about an inch a year.  Perfect for my cool little bonsai pot that has been waiting for over two years for a companion.

So, recently I’ve been fixated on long exposure times and creating images with a burst of light on a virtually black background.  Our friends Jeff and Jan Cleveland, photographers extraordinaire (check out their site The Clevelands), stopped by yesterday to give us a remembrance plant (the wonderful hibiscus on front stoop) in honor of Sarah’s step father, Dale, who passed recently. Anyway, our discussion (as does any discussion amongst photogs) led to photography. They were saying how a photographer they had heard of will shoot a reception hall with a long exposure time and manually blast a flash at important parts of the room thereby creating an image of the room strictly formed by where he chose to fire off the flash. I thought, “that’s cool. I have to try that.” So, after darkness completely enveloped our home I made my way outside to attempt this cool approach to creating an image. A concerned neighbor called out of her door/window (it was dark and all I heard was a voice) asking what I was doing. I guess seeing flash after flash pop out in the distance one might have thought it was from the muzzle of a gun and some gov’t commandos were having a bin Laden raid here at ole 730 W. Washington. As you can see I still have much to learn – check out the ghost near the door and the visible origins of light. A little more planning, time to spare (thirty second exposures really add up when you’re experimenting) and some interesting gels on the flash could add that certain element lacking in this first foray. Well, that and letting the neighbors know what’s going on before hand.

Today marks the eighth year of my marriage to Sarah.  With all the hoopla going on in our lives recently we both almost forgot our anniversary.  I guess it doesn’t only happen to men.  I did however present a lack luster breakfast in bed – Lucky Charms, Sarah’s choice, not mine – with this wonderful candle to compliment all those magical marshmallows.  I love you Sarah.  Happy anniversary.

Yes, eight years ago today Sarah and I said our vows.  I can’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of sharing these past eight years with such a wonderful wife, friend, and business partner (that actually reads ‘boss’ – I jest).  I can’t wait to see what the years have in store for us.  Happy anniversary Sarah.

One of my favorite pics from our wedding.  Sarah was stunning and still is today.