When I hear people complaining that 63 degrees, raining, and kind of windy in the middle of February is the worst weather of the year, it makes me want to puke. Today's weather in San Diego was partly cloudy, moderately windy, and about 68 degress. I found it humorous to see people cycling in full tights, jackets, and booties. Maybe humorous isn't the word I am looking for. Maybe jealous, considering that I would be wearing arm warmers and knee warmers. I guess it's true what they say about sunny San Diego. I could get used to this.

Down On Their Luck

On a recent trip to Washington DC to bury my Grandmother, I couldn't help but notice the considerable amount of homeless people dotting the landscape of our Nation's Capital. Documenting these people, who for one reason or another have been displaced from their homes, via photograph is a task that requires walking a tough line between what is right and wrong. Is it exploitation to take pictures of these people? Am I an asshole? What is my reasoning for taking these pictures? The questions mount up, leaving very little room for good excuses. Why would one take pictures of homeless people?



Upon my return, I came across an article on CNN about a taxi driver from Istanbul who, during his breaks, would take pictures of the underbelly of the city. Homeless people, hookers, drug addicts, and other riff-raff were his subjects. I found the work to be quite interesting. I was left with a positive impression of this fellow, even though I have no idea what his ulterior motives were.

Back to DC, I found my camera constantly connected to my body. I took over 600 exposures in the three days I was there. There was one occasion where I regret not photographing while a man was being taken to an ambulance. He was clearly in mental dispair, and maybe I was wrong for wanting to document what I thought was relavent to today's society. Maybe more like what is wrong with today's society. Regardless, a tug at my sleeve keep my shutter in check. I regret it.




One day later, I captured this photo while investigating the outlet of an elevator to the subway. I'm not sure I was concentrating on the irony of this photo. There is a solid chance that I didn't even realize the background until later when I was reviewing the days photos. I do find my positioning and mood that morning to not be coincidental, as much as I find it to have been odd. I had been witnessing homeless people throughout the previous two days. Here, on the last day, I find my lens scoping what seems to be a cry for help. Surely this person didn't randomly pick this bench without the knowledge of the potentially strong message it could send to any of the hundreds of passing pedestians that morning. A cry for help? Possibly. A cry for justice? Maybe so. Or perhaps it could just be something else. What are these people missing? Why are they missing?

Once the weekend was over, I relished in the fact that I had joined my Grandmother, my Mother, and my Aunts in a journey to rejoin and reunite all of them with my Grandfather, a gentleman that I had never had the pleasure to meet. A man who had been been over 38 years removed from my family. It was difficult to take in. Difficult to understand. Grandma is home now. She's back with Grandpa in one of the most revered resting places in the world. For that, I am happy.

February 2, 2010

Between school and work, I haven't had much to talk about in the last 10 months. However, things change and the dawn of a new blog was inevitable. Wholesale changes in the blogosphere are upon us. I've destroyed the old blog in it's entirety. With all the spam and bullshit that comes with it, it became too burdensome. Unfortunately, I lost my concert list. I'll make another though, just like I will make another blog. Moving forward in 2010, I fully expect to have more fun in my life. School is almost over. Bike rides are starting to sound appealing, and there are many, many trips in the works, starting this very weekend. It's going to be a kick ass year. I can feel it already.

A couple weekends ago, I was lucky enough to get back West to do some snow skiing. While the trip was short (Friday morning until Sunday night), it was jammed packed with kick ass times. I honestly can't remember a trip when there wasn't a lull where my mind drifted elsewhere or I stopped having fun. This trip rocked from the word go to the word stop.

Friday morning I found Bob and Bridget waiting in my street at 4:30am for the ride to the airport. The flight to Salt Lake City dropped us at about 9:30, putting us on the road by 10:30. We were to the St. Regis Deer Valley by 11:30 thanks to Bob's AJ Foyt driving skills. It kind of reminded me of Mr. Wolfe from Pulp Fiction. "That's 3o minutes away. I'll be there in 10."

The hotel was by far one of the best I've stayed in. It ranks in the Top 10 on Zagat for ski hotels. I was pretty amazed by the place, prices included. The ski in/ski out couldn't get any easier, and was completed by some little punks that would put my boots on and take them off. A god send for someone who just skied for 6 hours and drank a flask of Crown Royal. Who needs a St. Bernard when you have your own? I'm not relying on a fat dog to bring me shit.

Long story short.... Arrive. Ski. Party. Sleep. Ski. Party. Sleep. Snowmobile. Party. Fly home. Still partying. Do 100mph down Hwy 70. Sleep. And if you are Bob, be hung over for 2 days. Here is a video of the snowmobiling. Make sure you have the sound up a the beginning for a quality documentaion from Bob, the driver.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCqHtqaf8IU

This was the first trip of the year and it is going to be hard to top. There are many more in the works. Perhaps these bikes won't get used that much afterall. 2010 is going to be a good year!