On the Clock

Find Channing!

Notice the finesse and confidence he exudes: When he changes a lens, he doesn't think twice.

I found this video while exploring blogs for opinions on the recent Dartmouth College race problems. This one comes from Joe's Dartblog.

The Diner

Renee, center, Jen and I visited Lou's Bakery today for a little snack to get us through the rest of the day. Jen had a burger, Renee had some chocolate cake, and I pushed my luck with the pecan pie. I should have stopped with the Mann Orchards pecan pie that changed my life.

Lou's, I love you. But your pecan pie took a back seat to a Massachusetts orchard. Don't fret. You have many other merits.

I was satisfying my sweet tooth before photographing a protest in response to a recent Dartmouth Review cover. Check out yesterday's edition.

Yashica 635

James walked into Jen's on Sunday night with knitted mittens, a heirloom hunting cap, bean salad and his Yashica 635 medium-format camera.

I'm very envious of this light box. One day I too hope to have a medium-format camera. However, we talked about the obstacles this machine poses for the photo blogger. The Yashica cares not for your instant gratification. It makes you wait, for better or worse. Probably better.

And as James pointed out, the process of film picture-taking, sans motor drive, is a satisfying one. The way the process forces you to think more.

Fifty-percent of good pictures comes from good editing in my mind. So, I don't fear the motor drive. But, I like anything that shakes up the way I operate.

Weekend End

So fresh and so clean.


Walking to the bus.


My lady.

The Green Room

Model Light

Brooke models for me while I try out my fancy lights in a gas station parking lot before the wedding I shot yesterday. I read the manual from start to finish a week or so ago, but I was still nervous about it all. My editor, who let me borrow some of his equipment, met us at the gas station for the hand-off. When I asked the seasoned wedding photographer for some advice on portraits he just said, "Wing it."

And so, I did.

The Haircut

I shot a wedding yesterday and needed to arrive presentable. So, Brooke gave the ole locks a trim. Also, I couldn't stand the idea that my beard and head-hair weren't exactly the same length.

Turkey Lurkey

I spent Thanksgiving in Methuen, Mass. with Brooke and her family. A wonderful feast with all the Thanksgiving usuals that included six different pies. Thanks, Mann Orchards.

Brooke's brother Shane gives Sarah a little love.


Mr. Reitano schools me in pool.


Pecan pie, do you love me as much as I love you?


Mr. Reitano invited his friend Benson from Stop and Shop to Thanksgiving dinner. Thanksgiving is also Benson's birthday, but in Kenya they don't celebrate either day. So we helped compensate.


The Reitano ladies.


Brooke wakes up in a frigid Vermont house. With Al Gore in mind, the thermostat is at 55 degrees as the woodstove does the rest of the work. Toasty living room and toasty bed. Just don't be caught in between.

Super Soaker

I went to a bridge blessing last week, and I was reminded how much I like Catholic clergy. On the way back to the parish, one of the priests playfully got someone's attention by spraying them with holy water as if he were a little boy with a squirt gun.

Having grown up in the protestant faith, I find that the sense of humor in many of the priests I meet makes them very accessible.

Film?

My boss, Geoff, looks through our film archive yesterday.

Think of all the notables whose souls are in these boxes. All the presidential candidates that pass through every four years. All the famous intellectuals who come to retire in these hills.

On the topic of retiring. . . Jay-Z is releasing a new album two years after announcing his retirement from the performing end of the biz.

I understand the record is getting mixed reviews. But, I guess if you are going to work after retirement, releasing another album is better than greeting at Wal-Mart.

The Ompompanoosuc

The Ompompanoosuc has my heart.

I was just looking at some pictures of it and enjoyed seeing the contrast between its lush Amazonian persona and its current stark winter identity.

It's reassuring to know that no matter what changes around it, the Ompompanoosuc keeps going.

Skirt Steak

Peter cooked dinner tonight at his Thetford digs. Charcoal-grilled skirt steak, garlic-sauteed kale, and au gratin potatoes ( a recipe he's been working on since the eighth grade). All of it was wonderful. The steak was amazing though. I can't get it out of my mind.

Monochromatic for the People

Recently I've had trouble taking pictures of dogs. There was the bull dog that would bark and lunge at me when I tried, and handfuls of other dogs run away when my face is hidden by the camera. Madigan and Bailey are the same way.

Madigan doesn't run away, but I have to be very patient to catch the occasional and brief glance upward as I compose and wait.

Madigan and Bailey like to stare. When I wake up in the morning two sets of eyes are fixed on me. Just staring. Madigan especially likes to stare if I'm in the kitchen, brushing my teeth or loading up the stove.

So, I stare back.

The River

My friend Brendan visited South Strafford last week to get away from New York City, finish some writing in quiet, and vote. Here's an essay on Brendan: It's a Vermont vignette on his conflicting aspirations for both domesticity and pilgrimage; the seemingly impossible task of slowing the pendulum swing between commitment and independence.

After he recharged his wander-lust in the country, he returned to New York before hopping on a plane to Kansas for business. He plans to return to France this winter to finish a project.













Editor's Note: Brendan has plans to accompany these pictures with some of his writings on pilgrimage and domesticity, commitment, love, and the river as metaphor.

Oriental

A big box arrived from New York today. Inside I found some new equipment including flashes I acquainted myself with tonight. Credit goes to Wally and Barbara for the background. They replaced the living room rug a few weeks ago.

G'd Up From the Feet Up

Another one from my sister's wedding. My lady took this one of me getting ready for the party.

Cuddle Puddle

Dinner at Hauck's house once again. This time it was shepherd's pie, pureed squash, and a hazel-nut tort. Harvest beers before dinner, wine with the meal, and scotch as a digestif. We sat at the dinner table for almost four hours.

After stuffing myself, I laid horizontal like an over-fed Roman with Monkey-Monkey Boy.

Charlotte's House

After work on Halloween I went over to Charlotte's house in Norwich. She had this tiny little wood-burning stove that put out a lot of heat. We layed around it later in the evening. That's Gordon kneeling next to Charlotte.

People were carving pumpkins and handing out candy to teenagers, but I stayed close to the kitchen. Charlotte had prepared a spread of cheeses and breads, soups and chillis, and seasonal beers. Bethany brought hot cider. We ate cookies for dessert.

The squash and apple soup upstaged it all.

Wallpaper

Saturday afternoon self-portrait. South Strafford, Vermont

Pancakes

Saturday morning pancakes, South Strafford, Vermont

Ever since we got wireless internet here in South Strafford I have been practicing poor internet time management. I have this circle of sites I rotate through about every 15 minutes. It starts with my e-mail, visit some photo blogs, some other photo sites, back to my e-mail and repeat.

Finally, fed up with wasting my days, I have turned my internet browser tool bar into a useful means to get the most out of the web. This will certainly keep me on track:

Yahoo! Mail
A Photo A Day has a great blog.
Slate
John Loomis, Martin Fuchs, and Brian Harkin. All informative on photographic life details.
National Press Photographers Association for headlines
Photo District News
The New York Times
British Broadcasting Corporation
Salon

The plan is to work my way through the list and then log off. Maybe check my e-mail one more time. But that's it. Done.

I suppose this won't reduce the time I'm on the internet, but I hope it will make it more constructive. If I'm lucky, I won't feel like I accomplished nothing once I'm all done.

If there's anything I need to include in the rotation, feel free to suggest.

Big Brother

Government Center, Boston, Mass.

Tuna Fish Sandwich

I had a tuna fish sandwich for lunch today. Brendan made it.

Postmaster

This is Vince my postmaster. In fact, he's the only employee at my post office. He's a really friendly guy that knows everyone by name since he sorts all the town mail himself.

I stopped by to see him today because he had something for me that was too big to fit in my post office box. Western Kentucky University sent me the book from last year's Mountain Workshop. I read it cover-to-cover while the shop put snow tires on my car.

My Grill

A year has gone by without a dental cleaning. I had been pretty good about going every six months. Regardless, I am still cavity-free. My genes have been good to me. The dental hygienist, who let me take pictures while he worked, said I had a good immune system. My dentureless grandma would be proud.

Check out my pearly-whites! I don't know how to read an x-ray, but I think those are some good-looking chompers.

For Sale By Owner

2001 Dodge Stratus. 66,000 miles. Great condition. Blue.

$4,950 or best offer.

E-mail Brendan: itmighthavehappened@yahoo.com

Thumping

Today, the newsroom took a break to hear your president talk about Rumsfeld's resignation and his reaction to the elections.

I Got Your Democracy Right Here, Tough Guy.

On my eighteenth birthday I was abruptly woken from a nap by my mother. She was hell-bent on registering her son to vote. She spouted things about "civic duty" and "democratic rights". I didn't even have time to gain my bearings before she had me in the car with the doors locked.

I was less than enthusiastic about it at the time, but now I'm all over democracy. Today I voted (pictured right) and felt great about it. Almost like a burden was lifted. I also had the privilege of feeling holier-than-thou among people I expected hadn't exercised their rights.

After voting for a better future for my children, I called my friend Buford to wish him a happy anniversary. Our anniversary. In 2004, we struck up a conversation in line while waiting to vote. Looking at all the conservative folks waiting with us, we guessed we were voting differently than them.

Buford and his wife Mindy welcomed me into their circle in Midland, Michigan and made life in a difficult town rewarding. They improved the quality of my life by 51%.

If that's not enough motivation to vote, I don't know what is.

Go vote!

Disappointment

The Dartmouth College girls' soccer team had a rude-awakening today as they gathered to see who they would play on Friday in the NCAA tournament. It turns out they will play no one.

As a complete surprise to everyone gathered around a TV at the Collis Center, the mood quickly went from joyful anticipation to the depths of disappointment. Following a successful season (12-4-1), it was painful to see teams they had beat this season placed in the tournament while they were left out. Apparently the computer system used to rank the 300 teams wasn't in their favor this year.

Just tears and silence were present after the ESPN bracket announcement. The coaches had nothing to tell their players because the possibility barely crossed their minds. What do you say anyway? It's one thing to have your season end fighting your hardest on the field. It's a completely different experience ending your career (for those seniors) in front of a TV screen; especially when you are ranked the #2 team in the Northeast.

StoryCorps

National Public Radio's StoryCorps was in Boston in October. One day when I was sent to get Perugias and Cannolis in the North End I stopped by the converted Airstream in Government Center to see what goes on in there. No appointments were scheduled when I was there so the volunteer let me take a look around.

For some reason when I thought of the StoryCorps "booth" I thought of a cramped closet-sized room . . . like a picture booth. What they got makes a lot more sense. You could take a nap in there.

Competition

Aside from t-ball and little league soccer, I never played any organized sports. I can trace it all back to one bad decision I made at the age of nine: My mom was trying to get me to join the swim team, and I wouldn't do it for the single reason that I didn't want to wear a Speedo. Joining the team appealed to me, but I was a slight porker at that time and thought I was sparing myself humiliation. I still feel like an asshole for this decision I made when I was nine.

I never recovered from it. I did drama in high school.

Once I started shooting sports for newspapers, I realized what I missed out on. I enjoy shooting championship sporting assignments as much as anything else these days. Emotion is bountiful at these events. And even the sports action pictures are fun.

Tonight, neighboring towns Lebanon and Hanover competed for the state championship. They finished two overtimes before going home scoreless. I found it terribly anti-climatic, but they will resume on Wednesday to decide a winner. Unfortunately it doesn't fall within my schedule.

Photo copyright of the Valley News blah blah blah

Lunar Eclipse of the Heart

Tonight was a fullish-moon, and their was a weird vibe in the air at Jen's house.


Here is the moon that messed up the balance of everything.


Peter had alien-themed wine when he walked in the door. He also brought over a NY Times article about Second Life. I think we are losing him.


This isn't some sort of alien landing or probe or anything. It's just Jen picking cilantro while Peter holds the flashlight.


Dinner.


This is where things get freaky. Peter fell asleep during Solyaris (1972) and Jen started placing things on him. At first it was innocent enough, but then Jen wanted to test his threshold. When he finally broke from his slumber he looked at the clay-mation icon by his side. "Gumby," Peter said. "Did you have a part in this?"


Jen even put a bright light on his shoulder, and he didn't respond. Nothing.


I'll close with some Lynndie England-type shit. For the record, I just documented, I didn't contribute.