Thank you for the link to the Browness website. It is interesting. At first I was impressed by the thumbnails of the 2019 finalist. Looked like a nice collection of diverse work. But the more I dug in the individuals and their websites, the less impressed I became. Some didn’t even have a website, and those who did were most often academic artists, those who teach and routinely apply for grant work. It was nice to see some commercial shooters. One, a woman I think, did some very nice food photography. But for the most part the images on the website, the thumbnails, didn’t reflect the whole of their work. It was like, here’s the one cool image I made and it got me to the shortlist… And while all the work I have seen so far was strong, nothing took my breathe away. But then it has been awhile since that happened, frankly. I also stopped on a black and white image from Yosemite, a clear homage to Ansel Adams. The artist statement said he was inspired by the “captures” of Ansel. Captures? And odd word to me, especially describing Ansel’s work. It is a relatively new photo term, a way of distinguishing, I guess the difference between film and digital. We now said analog capture and digital capture. But when looking at someone’s work, I would never say, I love your captures. I would say I love your images. To say capture is too mechanical sounding. At least to me. He also didn’t have a website and so I tracked him down on Instagram. His work was all over the map and uninspiring to me. I know that sounds snarky, but I was hoping to see evidence that the photo world is not the homogenous pile of sameness it seem sot have become. More and more, I find myself drawn to older works, especially black and white. Work that has depth, both physically and emotionally speaking. And created with skill and true vision. I suppose that is why I have spent so much time working on my older works. I am not that inspired by much of what I see these days. But maybe it takes the test of time, to allow the cream to rise to the top.

Still pretty quiet out there. Still pretty weird. There’s a quiet beauty to it all, but I wish the world would return to normal soon. Whenever that may be.

John,

I have had thoughts of a zombie world too, but pass them off. I think we are better than that. I think this will pass. But not without great consequences. I think this more like the Spanish Flu. It is odd that growing up I only learned this event in passing, an afterthought in my lessons on history. But reading about it recently, it was seriously bad. 500 million people or 1/3 of the world’s population at the time were infected. Somewhere between 20 and 100 million people died. Those numbers are staggering, especially in an age of lesser technology and communications. I don’t think we are headed for that, but who knows.

On a up note, the number of new cases here in Washington went down last week 20%. A slight bit of good news. I avoid the news for the most part, but then I mostly did before. My tele time is spent binge watching The Property Brothers and old episodes of Good Eats… I have never had Netflix or any streaming service, so I am relegated to the land of re runs. Murder She Wrote and the 1980s never look so innocent.

I walked the dog this morning, my usually route. Saw maybe 5 or 6 folks. Most of them walking dogs. No zombies yet… Now I hang in my studio, writing emails mostly. I could make some art, I suppose. Did I ever show you work from the series I call Circles of Confusion?

I was working on these prints for the Seattle Art Museum when the shit hit the fan.

I have been toying with the idea of going out some twilight evening and making more of these. But with barren streets, no cars. It seems intriguing at the moment. But would it be weird to be out? I mean zombies like the night, right? Of course there might be a time when a police officer might stop and politely tell me to go home. Or give me a ticket… I guess we’ll see, eh?

But I remain optimistic, and for some strange reason, unafraid. Concerned, yes. Careful and cautious, yes. But for now, mostly optimistic and hopeful.

Virtual hugs from ground zero.

M

Let me know how it goes with your professional organizer. I might need one. I tend to be mostly ok with letting go of things and I am pretty good these days with not accumulating more. Christmas was kind of depressing shopping for Carter and me too. We just don’t need anything, so what fun is shopping? Fortunately we have a friend who needs everything, so I had fun shopping for him. In the mean time I have 2 boxes of clothes ready to go out the door. And Carter has way more. But I hesitate pushing him to get rid of stuff. His age and health has already forced him to give up a lot already. Things like driving, and independence. Giving up his fine clothes (he always had better taste than me) and his fine ties is like admitting death is on the door step. For me, it is not just clothes and stuff, but all my files and boxes and drawers of art works, and shelves of books and more books. Frankly the clothes could be gone in a heartbeat. But the autographed books, paintings and prints of other artists? How do you let those go? I have small collection of photos of an old friend of mine. Maybe 25 years of photos sessions we did together. With her then boyfriends, her cats, her horses, even travels we took together. A year ago she decided she didn’t want to be friends anymore and stopped communicating. I am still processing the loss. What do I do with her photos? She doesn’t want them…so do I trash them? It has always been hard for me to throw away perfectly good film and photos, even when they have ceased to have any meaning. It just seems wrong to toss them in a land fill. They must have meaning to someone. And in a nutshell, that is my plight right now with my work. Does it mean anything to anyone but me?