So I was walking along and I saw an elephant's foot. It made me laugh.
It seems that being a photographer is both a curse and a blessing. Sometimes you see and think about things you don't want to see or think about.
Let's say you're at a party and your significant partner is really having a good time. They sidle up along side and say something like, "nice party, huh?" And you respond, "great, but the lighting in this corner really sucks. You'd think they could put in a little track lighting to accent this area."
You realize your error but it's too late, still thinking "nice low ceiling, a bounce flash would cover most of it and maybe just a little unit tucked low in the back for a little rim light."
So if you think photographers have shifty eyes, they do. They are watching the light, or for a composition to come together, or a visual pun (see Elliott Erwitt, one of my favorites).
We can't help ourselves, as lame as the puns may be.
Thank you, Mark Zuckerberg
I have a Facebook page. I don't advertise it as it's for my personal use. If I don't know you personally, I won't friend you. If you never post, I unfriend you. Simple.
I use it primarily to stay in touch with my many friends from over the years. No other platform allows me to connect with the good parts of my past.
But with the good comes the bad. And that would be the fact that if you post photos to Facebook, they can do pretty much whatever they want with them, including making money and you don't even get a thank you. Twitter and Pinterest are a whole 'nother story.
Since I became intrigued with iPhone photography a little over a year ago, I had searched and found, I thought, a home at Instagram. I liked the interface, the local connections and the worldwide view of things. I even made a few friends and had a growing following.
However, it was grossly overcrowded with amateurs. No offense. I couldn't stand the fish-faced, soft porn, cute cat, adorable puppy, sunset photos that made up 95% of the feed. But, it did allow you to pick and choose whose photos you wanted to see and provided a way to expand to their friends so that my home feed was an incredible array of diverse, intelligent and breathtaking (or not), photographs.
In mid-December, 2012, Instagram sent out a statement that essentially said that in the near future, their policy would be "we can now do whatever we want with your photos, including selling them to advertisers and you don't get squat."
That's good for the amateurs who get the big thrill of seeing their work published. But it's bad for professionals who would lose control of and compensation for their work. I decided to jump and dumped my account. Some may call that a hasty decision in light of fact that a few days after the shit hit the fan, Instagram retracted their proposal and told everyone not to worry, they didn't really mean it.
I have heard from industry sources, although this is pure conjecture, that Instagram may have lost 50% or so of their subscribers in the week following their statement. But in their defense, how the hell can you make money if you don't optimize your assets? Was splitting the ad revenue with the photographer even considered?
I imagine this nightmare scenario. Instagram (Facebook) sells one of my photos with a recognizable person in it to an advertiser. The advertiser publishes it in an ad. The person in the photo sees the image and calls the advertiser to say, "Hey, I never signed a model release or gave permission to have my photo used in an advertisement. Advertiser says "go talk to Instagram." Instagram says "go talk to the photographer, he agreed to the terms of service that allowed us to sell the image." Guess who gets sued?
So, I began looking for a new venue. I decided to take a shot with the most promising of the group, Starmatic. They say that I would not lose control of my work. In fact, in the days following the Instagram Exodus, Starmatic's servers crashed from the sheer volume of people moving to their service.
Sadly, I found it lacking. The interface was clunky and I never saw the interaction - no sense of community. I posted half-a-dozen photos with no response and stopped.
Which brings me to where I am today. That is, I have set up a feed on this just for my iPhone photos. That will allow me to share these photos, with my Facebook friends, or wherever, without losing ownership, by linking to my page. Yes, it means that on Facebook someone must click a link to see the post. Sorry about that.
Just look at this graphic on people trying to regain control of their work.
So thank you, Mark, for making me think about all of this. I understand. It's not all about you. It's all about me.
Deadicated
It will be 40 years this May that I attended my fourth Grateful Dead concert.
Was I a Deadhead? No. I did not "follow" them. I didn't own a van or travel from show to show. I did not ask for "Miracles," (a free ticket). But I did love their music and manage to see them nine times over the next 20 years.
I'm glad that my son discovered their music. I remember the moment, while driving north through West Virginia on a family vacation, when it was announced over the car radio that Jerry had died (8/9/95). It was a sad moment for me. My son was seven, my daughter, four. I had last seen the Dead in April of that year in Birmingham, AL. My son still reminds me that I should have taken him to the concert.
I made the trip in 1973 while in my junior year at the University of Missouri, majoring in Photojournalism. I was sitting around with some roommates and friends when one of them suggested we leave that afternoon and drive to DesMoines for the concert. It sounded like a reasonable idea.
We traveled in one of my roommates VW bug (I'm second from left). After midnight, too tired and directionally challenged, we pulled off the road in the middle of nowhere, Iowa, and crashed in a cornfield. The next morning we were up, refreshed and ready to go. It Mother's Day as it turned out. May 13, 1973.
The concert was, of course, amazing. It was held at the Iowa State Fairgrounds. The sky was threatening all day. We were groovin' to "Sugaree" when the skies turned suddenly darker. The Dead eased into "Looks Like 
Rain" and a jam. I'll never forget when the skies parted and revealed a rainbow off to the east. Without missing a beat, the Dead segued into "Here Comes Sunshine." The crowd went nuts, responding with an ovation that lasted for a good ten minutes.
One year later, as a summer intern for the DesMoines Register, I volunteered to cover the Grateful Dead. No other staff photographer wanted to get involved. "Let the kid cover it," suggested a staffer. So this time I had a Press pass. The concert wasn't the same, although the photographs I made are probably better.
I'm still finding gems like these as I go through my archives. Luckily, I kept much of my early work. I know I photographed the band at least four times. I hope you enjoy these photos. Strange trip, indeed.
We can breathe now
From my iPhone on election day.My political nightmare is over.
No more robo-calls. No more pollsters.
Or postcards stuck in my door that blow away and become litter.
A break in the bickering and profusion of lies.
Hurricane Sandy became a much-needed distraction.
Back to harmless and amusing commercials that go unendorsed.
A return to what has become the new normal.
A chance to resolve the real issues at hand.
Vote!
Where did the summer go?
All decked out for the 4th of July baseball tournament.It went swiftly in a rush of introspection. It went advancing the goals of our studio, and yard work, and playing with photography, a little travel, teaching, learning and wasting time thinking. And a bit of golf.
It also apparently went to neglecting this blog. But I don’t think that upset anyone. So let’s try this again.
Here are some of my favorite iPhone photos from over the summer.
