PDX – Step Down Step Down, Push Push, Ace Hotel
Door signs at the Ace Hotel, PDX.
PDX – Bump Uglies
Bump Uglies, Portland, OR. 2010
I was highly amused by this.
Bikini Wahine Wading Waikiki
Bikini Wahine Wading Waikiki. O'ahu, HI 2009.
After several months of disuse, I finally dusted of the scanner and processed some 35mm negatives I had developed in the beginning of June. Taken last December on O’ahu with a GoPro Hero waterproof 35mm camera on expired Kodak UltraMax 400.
Advice for PDX???
I originally posted this over at the new toycamera.com forums, but then thought to cross-post it here for possible wider exposure.
My wife & I are planning a week long sojourn to Portland, OR later this fall as a kind of interview with the Rose City to see if it’ll fit as a possible relocation locale (the long heavy winters of upstate NY are getting to be a bit too much).
As such, we want to be as thorough as a week allows. Instead of hitting up touristy stuff, we want to try to see the city as a local would.
So any advice from native Portlanders or transplants (or anyone else familiar with the town, for that matter) on what to do, what to see, where to eat, et cetera?
Any help would be greatly appreciated.
TOYCAM now available!!!
TOYCAM is ON SALE NOW!!!
I’m happy to report that a project that I’ve been proud to be a part of has finally come to fruition: TOYCAM is finally available on Blurb.
Andrew has more to say about the book’s release here.
I haven’t had the chance to physically flip through the book yet myself, but having been a part of the process, I know the product is top notch.
You can purchase the hardcover here.
Or the soft cover here.
Thank you to all the photographers who submitted their photographs and to those who agreed to be interviewed: you made our jobs tougher & all the more enjoyable by giving us some outstanding source material to work with.
Congratulations for a job well-done to the other book-team members Andrew, Ben, Blake, Gregory, Jason, Jose & Leah. It’s been a pleasure being part of the team.
UPDATE: www.toycamerabook.com has a flash-based preview of the book available for your perusal.
Long Lake Lilly Pads
Lilly Pads, Long Lake, NY 2010
Quiet Morning in the Adirondacks II
Lake Eaton, NY
Quiet Morning in the Adirondacks
Lake Eaton, NY
101 Life Goals
FYI: This is post is decidedly unrelated to photography.
North Shore, O'ahu 2009.
I’ve been feeling introspective lately. It’s funny how the passing of a loved one can do that to you. As my wife & I sorted through my father’s personal affects this past weekend in preparation of this weekend’s estate sale, it struck me just how much of my father’s life boiled down to stuff. He had a lot of stuff.
Yet, I hardly knew what his hopes & dreams were (he had to have had them, right?) and it’s now seemingly impossible to infer what they could’ve been from just his possessions.
One dream of his I know, as he constantly asked repeatedly, is also one that hits me the hardest, is that my Dad wanted grandchildren. He possessed a large collection of Disney DVDs in eager anticipation of the day some rug-rat would enamoredly watch cute cartoons with him, much as my grandmother did with us.
The funny thing is that was a hope & dream of mine as well. Christine & I, a couple years back, each made a list of 101 life goals, as an exercise in… well… I’m not sure. But it still felt like a worthy endeavor. Number 43 on my list was “for my father to watch cartoons with his grandchildren.”
Heart-wrenchingly, I just removed that one from the list.
But that got me pondering the rest of my list. How many things out of the original 101 had I actually checked off in the intervening years? Five. I bought a new car; I finished my degree; I cooked a lobster; I won a prize playing skee ball; and I did something with expiredfilm.com.
While, yes, many on my list were meant as perpetual behaviors, as compared to quantifiable achievements, it still seems as though I should be doing more. Life is short. So as a semi-public means of accountability, here’s my newly revised list.
101 Life Goals in no particular order (other than #1)
1. try to make Christine smile everyday
2. leave Upstate NY for parts unknown
3. preferably to live in Hawaii
4. find something to do that I enjoy that will afford us a reasonable income
5. lose the spare tire
6. not lose all my hair
7. let Christine know that I love her, as much as possible
8.
9. think of something especially clever for #8
10. find something unique to share with the world
11. raise a loving family with Christine
12. to get a dog
13. preferably a Bloodhound
14. for my student loans to be nothing more than a bad memory
15. to go on adventures with Christine as often as feasibly possible
16. to still go on adventures with Christine even when it’s not feasible
17. never eat broccoli, asparagus, cauliflower, or Brussels sprouts ever again
18. to always be able to make Christine laugh
19. to be a better correspondent
20. to be a better friend
21. to be a better husband
22. to eat a grilled cheese sandwich everyday for a month
23. to make a scathing documentary of the grilled cheese industry
24. to snuggle with Christine as much as possible
25. to become a better photographer
26. to always greet Christine with a hug and a kiss
27. to find something worthwhile to say and to say it well
28. to buy Christine roses when she least expects it
29. to make sure I actually buy roses for her when she does expect it
30. to always win when playing “not it”
31. to have a hot dog whenever at Yankee Stadium
32. to have Christine take a bite of said Yankee Stadium hot dog
33. to own a house that Christine and I can make into a home
34. to have a vacation every year where Christine wears a bikini
35. to find new things that interest me
36. not to be this old this young
37. to celebrate holidays without feeling guilt
38. to never eat cottage cheese just because “it’s healthy”
39. to have the confidence to know whether I’m good at something or not
40. to watch a sunset and sunrise in the same night with Christine
41. to own art I appreciate
42. to see Mariano Rivera go into the Hall of Fame
44. always be able to find time to read a good book
45. remember to use deodorant most days
46. to be less slovenly around the house
47. to pick up my boxers whenever we are expecting guests
48. to dance with Christine whenever the opportunity presents itself
49. to not look utterly ridiculous doing so; unless on purpose
50. to be the most ‘whoamantic’ person I know
51. to never catch Ebola
52. or smallpox or The Plague or other bad bug
53. to let Christine squish a slug with her hands
54. but to be the voice of moral restraint when she endeavors to kick a pigeon
55. to improve my handwriting
56. to always be Christine’s best friend
57. never eat yellow snow
58. to accomplish something I can feel proud of
59. learn a cool yo-yo trick
60. to not break anything in the process
61. to spend Thanksgiving with our family at our house
62. to dress more “snazzily”
63. to carve a pumpkin for Halloween each year
64. to not schedule my life around television
65. to learn how to smile in front of a camera
66. especially when Christine is holding the camera
67. to win a whole boat-load of money in the lottery
68. to learn a cool new origami thing
69. to create a meal using veggies from our garden
70. to have a garden
71. to have a backyard barbecue with our friends
72. to have a backyard to barbecue in
73. to have a grill to barbecue on
74. to know how to make good mixed drinks
75. to eventually figure out Christine’s system of hiding my stuff
76. to eventually not need Christine to hide things on me in the first place
77. to never wear pink socks to a wedding
78. or pretty much never wear pink socks
79. to grow a thriving Chia pet
80. to always find things to shake a stick at
81. to never dress a pet in a holiday festive sweater
82. unless it’s really funny
83. I mean really funny, not just a self-deluded funny
84. to never fall victim of a pirate attack
85. to drink more water
86. to eat less pizza
87. but still eat pizza
88. to actually traverse the Oregon Trail
89. without dying of dysentery
90. take a train across the country
91. to spit into an active volcano
92. to learn how to surf
93. to complete my run of DC Sandman comics
94. to own a vintage Optimus Prime
95. to visit all 50 states
96. to drink a pint of Guinness in Ireland
97. learn to play the ukelele
98. to never be compelled to smell/taste sour milk against my wishes
99. to snorkel in Bora Bora
100. to finish reading Moby Dick(done), War & Peace, Walden, Paradise Lost, and Ulysses
101. to find the means to overcome the resting inertia in my life
102. to be happy
So there it is. I’m impressed if you actually read through the entire thing. Just to be clear, it’s not a “bucket list.” It’s just a list. It may change, it may grow, it may shrink, but hopefully along the way I’ll be able to check some things off.
Knee high by the Fourth of July
Knee high by the Fourth of July.
Or an example of the relative height of maize as compared to the lower extremities of able bodied human beings on the fourth day of the seventh month of the Gregorian calendar.
The wife & I, trying to remember any semblance of normalcy, drove all around the area farms yesterday looking for knee high corn, given the titular colloquialism. To our surprise, we discovered most of the corn was already way past chest height.
After almost giving up on the concept, we found this comparatively stunted crop in a nearby community garden.
The image itself is kind of an inside joke. I have a habit of butchering colloquialisms. Such as “six of one; half dozen of another” in regards to equal quantities, becomes “half of one; six dozen of another,” but still used in the original capacity in a manner of attempted ironic humor.
“Knee high by the Fourth of July” entered our lexicon as “ankle deep on a rainy Thursday in the third week of April” or “hip length on the 17th of June” or “up to your armpits in August” and other such variations of nonsensical meaning.
My wife & I often bat these pseudo-sayings around without regard for our audience, sometimes leading to semi-awkward explanations, akin to the one you’ve just read.