Bristling Behind the Curtain

Mountains Beyond Mountains

2011-05-03T21:36:00.010-05:00

Man wanders the dock searching for the hungry, Port of Carres,
approx 40 miles north of Port Au Prince.

"Perhaps it's done already, perhaps they have carried me to the threshold of my story. Before the door that opens on my story, it will be the silence. Where I am, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence you don't know, you must go on. I can't go on, I'll go on." - The Unnamable, Samuel Beckett

I only know what I saw with my tiny eyes. Here I am, behind a camera again, with the protection of my sophisticated machines and the freedom to return home. I post this with reverence to Haiti and her invincible peoples who have endured the end, and the end, and the end, and go on, determined to begin again.

Children, Island de La Gonave. Medical Solar Mission, 2011

Men rest in the sun from digging wire beds for solar panel electrical lines.

Patient stands in line at the medical clinic.

The staff photographer and I set up inside the church for late night post production hours on the first night. Before we settled in, we were informed of an emergency patient

that was brought into the clinic after dark.

We got several versions of this boy's story, the most consistent was that he had fallen off his donkey, possibly carrying water. The island is made mostly of limestone and lava rock which is jagged and dry. He split his lip from his nose down and had several gashes on his forehead and legs. He came in holding his face, but did not whimper.

The volunteer doctor tries dry sutures first, but the boy's tissue is too damaged to hold. He wraps the boys face in bandages and prepares to send him home. We follow the doctor into the supply room, he cracks open a beer and sighs, "I can't believe I didn't bring super glue." The writer on our team looks at him deeply, "are you serious?" The doctor stops the boy and the writer sprints to the church for his super glue that he travels with for his glasses that always fall apart. We are not the kings horses, nor the kings men. The writer left the glue behind and used grip tape for the next three weeks.

Alyce "no tears" Henson, post production, La Gonave, Haiti.

Clinic attendees when not on foot.

This picture reminds me of growing up with Ruthie, my older sister. Clearly, I'm the cheeky scoundrel on the right keeping the intended portrait from touching the lense with a sweetness.

Such a strong face for a man with an infection in his pinky.

Dinner

This boy, this face, I wonder.

Lucky

2011-02-11T17:48:00.004-06:00

"Lucky" artist: Stephanie Helguera

When I met Kristen I was sitting on a curb shaking off a rendezvous with the asphalt on a borrowed motorcycle. We carried on to Milwaukee then back and stopped on the south side for post concussion drinks at the treasured Bernice's Tavern. Our conversation featured my confident account of the history of starved rock and he called me on it. I wagered. Somebody had a "smart" phone and I had the story turned upside down. I lost the bet.

The wager was a real rabbit's foot keychain that the loser shot and skinned themselves. No problem. But, I couldn't bare to shoot one without eating it. So, I had to wait for the first freeze being that the cold would kill of any crud the bunnies picked up from romping in the alleys all summer. First I tried trapping but kept getting raccoons. You never know what you're gonna get. 4 months rolled by and no rabbit.

I couldn't stand the bet hanging over my head and my friend Stephanie was making these really cool layered paper motifs and I asked her to make me a rabbits foot as a promise gift. I love how it turned out. Might even get it tattooed on my eyelid. Meanwhile, I framed it and gave it to Kristen for Christmas.

As I leave for Haiti, I am reminded that although we make our luck in life, carefully setting our duck's in a row, they soon begin to "shift and play games." One could use a little extra something in these circumstances despite preparedness. At the same time, I feel immense gratitude, shape-shifting and all, that the planet has afforded me another opportunity to see the world. In Haiti, in will be unavoidable to feel, to the bone, just how lucky I am.

Be brave. M

Miles To Go Before We Sleep

2011-02-05T21:45:00.003-06:00

Portraits of Miriam by Kristen in the back yard, Virginia Ave., Chicago, Il.

"The middle of nowhere is often a place where you can experience whole beauty because nobody recognizes you except exactly who you want, where you want. There is freedom in nowhere. Nothing is assumed and nothing taken for granted. Sweet is sweet; wet is wet; the road is easy and hard in waves because the present moment and the conditions of the moment." -- Ruth Doan

Breaking the Silence

2011-02-03T20:27:00.004-06:00

I hear a lot of riders in the Midwest lament over an 8 month riding season and I was one of them, until now. Ice riding has got to be the most fun I've had since yesterday, the first real snow day I remember since the 8th grade. This blog is dedicated to everyone who hasn't moved to California.

Lake Okauchee, Wisconsin

This course was a loose interpretation of the Barber course in Alabama

I'm a calculated risk taker. 9 inches thick seemed....romantic. But in most cases with your riding pals, it goes something like this: You go, we go.

Big Bob's van needed a teensy push. If you know Big Bob, you'll take any chance you get to return a kindness from the long list of ways he's made your life more fun.

Kristen (right) and Dan (left), at base camp.

You gotta be careful with gear in your paws on this type a terrain. As Kristen would say, "It's slicker than cum on a gold tooth out here."

The first thing I was told was to trust my tires. Riding on ice feels like riding over a Chicago bridge constantly. But, you have more traction out here than you do on slab, and there's no oncoming traffic.

Joe, our gracious host and expert course plower, peels protective rubber bands
from this rider's studded tires.

Paul

I had heard of Paul, knew of his work and always wanted to meet him. He taught me how to pan, track and release for this type of shot on the fly and I almost got it. "Just like shooting skeet," he said. He also gave me an impassioned recommendation to stop looking at the back of my camera
and remember how to trust myself and shoot in my mind's eye. That meant a lot to me. I also appreciated the slap on the arm when he caught me doing it after he told me not to. Hard headed. Thanks Paul.

There is no sign on my camera that says: The object in your viewfinder is a foot from your skull. But... I was working on that minds eye thing.

That's me having the time of my life. I bought this rocket-suit for four dollars at the Village Thrift last spring. The label on the inside reads: "Chiller Killer -- It's Springtime on the inside." I can't think of a better name for any piece of clothing and I couldn't think of a better use for it. I wasn't cold and I wasn't hot... AND I was wearing Packers colors in Wisconsin. Accidentally in style -- always preferable in the book of cool.

These dirt riders were just sick. They got ridiculously low and had amazing control.
They also had no problem passing you on the inside, a real test of my ability to keep my head in the game, which I appreciate.

Big beard, Big van, Smart mouth, Big Bob.

View from the bar on the bay; Aliota's Hideaway.

Hideaway regulars watch riders from the bay window.

Julie

"Master" of Ceremonies hosts © Aireoke

2010-09-30T18:47:00.045-05:00

Disappearing for a long time then making a mysterious, last minute appearance as a master of your craft is super suave. Especially at a private club in New York City where famous comedians are usually roasting each other on a Saturday night. I snuck in last Saturday to meet an illusive character in a story I've been following for some time. I have never seen so famous people.

General Manager, Nat Hays, who I managed to squeeze in next to at a table right up front, was really nice and down to earth. He even bought me a drink which I kept loosing track of because I was busy being star struck.

USAG co-commissioner, Kriston Rucker (left), Hall of Famer Air Guitarist and co-star of Air Guitar Nation C-Diddy (middle) and Nat Hays (left) catch up at the Friar's club.

Israeli correspondent to the Wall Street Journal, Charles Levinson (left) and M.I.A., attend the re-appearing act of the decade, David Jung as C-Diddy.

Werewolf shreds.

Math Romancer, Melting.

C-Diddy, does Van Halen's 'Ice Cream Man.'

Starstruck Trubies

Nice to meet you, Miriam

TWALD

2010-09-23T13:29:00.074-05:00

What does TWALD stand for? I was having too much fun, I forgot to ask. I do know that it took 5 hours to get there and there was a whole lot a riding and wrenching on motorcycles. In Boscabel, Wisconsin, folk sell liqour n' guns at the same corner store and love to paste up Jesus-y type quotes on the side of the road. There is loose gravel on blind corners that suck you into the pavement and roads that stretch for miles after that. Perfect curves. As an added bonus, I went to my first demolition derby, saw my first bald eagle and for the second time in 4 months I've been the only girl in a hotel room full of boys, booze and a string of really good judgements on my part. I must be doing something right.

LOCAL COLOR

Joe and Sheila try to sabatoge my scenesetter at the Boscabel county fair.

First heat.

Radiator blows

RIDING....

BoscoBill, Dave, Butch, Andrew and Adam...tighten up before breakfast at Unique Cafe.

Dave.

Just a titch

Where is Wild Cat mountain?

Everyone meets back up for a big lunch.

Sheila.

Loading in.

Fuel.

A very cold, wet, trying ride home that exposed the chewy golden center of everyone present. You meet the nicest people in the middle of nowhere.

I Know Who Holds Tomorrow

2010-09-10T14:26:00.006-05:00

Here's to a long-long weekend and grabbing whatever cottage was left on Lake Michigan to kick it Midwest style. This includes all things red arrow highway... garage sales, junk yards, beach days, roads that stretch for miles, Euchre, Deuces, long winded stories, too much booze and all other things you can smuggle in the bottom of your shoe. Most importantly, no real plan of how to spend the days.

This time, it was not the air pregnant bitch hound; hope. It was a money jar.

Postcards from the edge.

We only got one good beach day. It stormed so hard some nights the power went out and we had to play cards by candlelight. Just another adventure. But, it was nice to bask for one good, long day. My ankles got burnt. Musta missed a spot.

Lunch Time....Bag o Chicken.

Miriam (photo by: Nathaniel Hays)

Tisha, my tanning coach and life long friend.

NYC Nathaniel Hays and Ruthie Baby.

Another cold and rainy day. Cabin Fever. John Henry (Almost 4), looks through stuff in my purse.

After I paint my nails 50's housewife pink, we decide to hit the moody coast to wade up to our ankles. We skip rocks, underestimate the surf and end up at a complete loss for words.

The air was more than cool and the waves topped 14 feet that day. I rarely see the lake like this. I had to roll the sleeves on my favorite hoody 6 fat times to get it to fit Henry. None of us were quite prepared for the weather. But, the water was bath warm. Henry was ecstatic about the wind and the tide. I feel his wonder. (All photos of me by: Nathaniel Hays)

The clouds break.

Tish tells a true story. Miriam is happy.

Miriam (33) and Ruthie (35) - Sisters

Mark and Ruthie Baby - stone skipping contest.

Nat's first time seeing Lake Michigan. Good form!

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you......Michigan.

Found

2010-09-01T15:53:00.000-05:00

Joe and Sheila, ROCKERBOX, 2010.

After laying down a borrowed bike into oncoming traffic, I hopped out of the ambulance and back on my bike to go to Milwaukee. No way I was going to let a pavement slide swim in my head while my friends were roasting in the sun looking at rat rods and drinking beer. Back on the horse.

Welders crafting found part trophies for ROCKERBOX, 2010

After a hot and windy ride home the air conditioning at Bernice's felt nice. And, Mike is a gem. Go see him.

Moto GP in Indy this past weekend. I liked the smaller races best.

Melissa. You are so cool and pretty.

Miriam, you are so tired.

Almost home...you know the feeling....

The Hands that Prepared it

2010-08-27T10:47:00.000-05:00

Like the eyes, hands read like words but don't think to hide. I notice them.

Fare-The-Well, My Bright Star

2010-08-23T14:42:00.008-05:00

Boston. Who moves there? And more importantly, now that you're gone, who is gonna barge into my room and nag at me to gettoutta bed in the morning? Who’s gonna sit with me on the back porch surveyin’ the river community? Who’s gonna chill my coldies and speculate when our landlord will pull my “recycling” outta the bin to spit shine it and call me wasteful?

Who's going to run a marathon and make me clap a lot on a sunday?

Best thing is, I know I won’t miss the best stuff about you: the bold, truthful, hilarious commentary on any given dumb ass decision I make, or, having you around to say I did the right thing.

I know that the ways you changed my life have only begun. It is no mistake that you are where the sun decides to rise again.

Testing, Testing, 1-2-3

2010-08-20T15:38:00.002-05:00

Alyce, Senior Photographer at Rotary International is not only best boss ever and an amazing artist but she's made of solid gold from the inside out. We can travel together, work hard together, straight face an effed up situation together and we have similar eating habits.....perfect fit. I really couldn't be luckier to have landed this close to someone so rad. Respek.

I was happy to be torn away from my spreadsheet today to have a little studio fun. We just got the Mark IV's and they are incredible....especially with the 85mm 1.2. I shot the Mark IV at the USAG nationals in NYC and a wedding the same weekend. It's great for events....but this was the first time I'd seen studio work on them. Really nice. All photos by Alyce Henson.

Roots

2010-08-09T10:50:00.000-05:00

John and Miriam Jean Doan (my namesake)

Friday nights with Gram and Gramp Doan. Gramp's a big fan of the Three Stooges, Sherlock Homes, Bride of Frankenstein and Red Skelton. He loves westerns too. He tries to watch new school flicks but gets bored and falls asleep. However, "John Wayne," he claims, "I can understand every word he's saying."

Uncle Slick and Aunt Toad

I like the aluminum foil touch. Toady took her teeth out for this one thinking it would be funny but ended up feeling a little embarrassed about it. That's ok. I'm proud of you toothless farmers and oil field workers.... fathomless billows of love.

FUNG WA

2010-08-01T00:45:00.523-05:00

The exclusive last chance event to qualify for the USAG Nationals was held at Lucky Chengs this year in the lower level of a drag queen cabaret dinner joint in NYC. This venue was small, gritty and a challenge for arena style performers who usually play big.

A different kind of competition. A steamy basement show complete with rivulets of sweat sliding down the small of my back. Hot and friendly.

Playing small and tight is hard. It seems the purist does best here.

Björnica and fellow judges score close to the bone.

Hot Lixx Hulihan, where he belongs.....in lights.

World Champion Hot Lixx Hulihan and 2009 National Champion from NYC, William Ocean do the Fung Wa half time show. I love this moment. Hot Lixx is just feeling it and Ocean is freaking out in the face. Ocean also did an amazing running in place bit. Spiritual.

Hot Lixx = smart, technically stacked and a true showman. A genyouine professional.

For example, the ironic air quoting. I'm grateful that air guitar has a rich enough history in the United States to warrant such a theatrical exploration of how seriously we can take known futility. Nearly Shakespearean.

Super cute. Ocean was so in love with this performance. Dear Shreddy, you should do youtube videos for how to apply stage makeup. You looked like a million dollars.

This performance was a bad acid trip complete with a child like onlooker grasping for the discarded balloons as if falling for candy from a stranger.

Disoriente'

After traveling the country, true to form and often getting lost in translation, it's no small victory to be understood.

A picture is a secret of a secret. - Diane Arbus

Co-Founder of US Air Guitar Kriston Rucker at the Fillmore, New York at Irving Plaza.

Shreddy Mercury interviews at the press release before the National competition.

A comedian and his crew. I accidentally sat in his chair. A woman with a clipboard tapped me on the shoulder and said "our talent is sitting there." He practiced a lot of questions into the camera over and over with slightly different affects. When the camera man pulled focus, and the talent stood up, I expected a well rehearsed: "How do you cope with being away from your wives and children?" ....but all that came out was "I actually don't have any questions." My air dick deflated. I think he was intimidated by all the other talent.

Co-Founder Cedric Devitt gets on the level. "Air Guitar is a vessel, what you put in it, is up to you."

What goes up....

should eventually make it's way back to stage. ....

The Rockness Monster half time show.

Go Big or Go Home

2010-07-30T11:42:00.005-05:00

Top to bottom, right to left: Shreddy Mercury does the Dark Horse at Lucky Chengs, Dying Cletus,

ATC sits on Mama’s lap at Ocean’s, Mural Art at after hours party tranny bar.

I went to NYC to shoot the beloved US Air Guitar Nationals last week. My plan was to shoot Fung Wa at Lucky Chengs on Tues, the Nationals at the Fillmore on Thursday, fly out to Michigan on Friday and shoot a wedding on Saturday. Everything went swell until I got to the airport on Friday amidst nationwide torrential downpours… ended up on a tarmac for 9 hours, in the air for 4 and did an emergency landing in Indianapolis during the races. No hotels, no cars, no food, nothing. I had no choice but to stand pathetically in the rental lot asking each traveler with a reservation if they were going to Chicago. I got lucky with a hedge fund guy from SF. He traded me a ride for keeping him awake and we drove through the night. It turns out he’s on the board of a non-profit in SF to help emerging and mid-career artist fund personal projects. No joke. I dropped him off downtown as burnt out busses were being thrown over the Columbus bridge for the filming of the Transformers movie. This felt accurate. I continued to Michigan with my second wind and arrived an hour before my wedding. This was, by far, THE closest call of my career.

More art, ATC with Rucker and Thundergland (what is on your face?), stiff dickens fake punches me in the face, Me and NYC Natty Hays deep in the jungle.

Here’s the kicker. I was so delirious that I formatted and wrote over a 16 Gig card spanning the entire performance portion of the NYC trip. I thought I copied it but it was gone. Not only will I never shoot a 16 Gig card again… I can’t go out like this! This was supposed to be “my last year,” but it’s not. I had beautiful wedding shots but no Air Guitar. Devastation. I tried every kind of recovery software known to the industry. Canon doesn’t even have recovery software proprietary to the new Raw files from the Mark IV. I let go of the hope to recover these images and informed the USAG commission that I wouldn’t make press release deadlines so they could make other plans. But….I didn’t stop trying. I called an old friend. Today, I’m dropping my card of at the Chicago Police Department forensics unit. “Last year,” the specialist I spoke to explains, “the city of Chicago cut budgets deep. The CPD and feds merged their forensics units.” This meant job cuts but military technology for little guys. At retirement age this guy was back on the beat and misses challenges like these. He’s excited and hopeful. If this doesn’t work he says, “There’s always the CIA.” At this point, if I can’t win, I want to at least have fun. I’ve never worked together with the CPD, the feds or the CIA. I’m hoping to convince at least one of them to compete next year.

My favorite sandwich, red white and true, National Champion Romeo Dance Cheetah, and, (say it with me)….

Hot. Lixx. Houlihaaaaaaaaaaaan.

May I also add that when I got to the Amtrak station in Kalamazoo on Sunday, the train was delayed an hour and a half. Unable to fathom further travel pains, I grabbed my bags and dove onto a Greyhound bus that left minutes after I sat down. We got to Chicago in less than three hours with more stops than we make on the tracks. I am NEVER taking the Amtrak again. The bus rules!

Unscathed

2010-07-08T01:58:00.004-05:00

Took the 360t back to Michigan for the 4th of July. Back roads mostly and the interstate when I felt like flying.

Got a little hungry and followed signs for "glorious berries" along Red Arrow hwy.

Met my brother and nephew at a produce stand near the Jericho station at Airport Road and M43. We rode into Kalamazoo together. Henry never got tired of watching me out the window. Squinting in the sun, he smiled ear to ear when I passed and strained in his car seat to look out the back window when I'd fall behind. Henry jumps off of Mark's porch into his Dad's arms.

John Ripple oils my chain at his shop before I get back on the road. It worked out nicely to front load my pack so I could put my feet on the back pegs and lay down on the gas tank.

I hauled ass for an hour and a half but broke down outside Valperaso, 50 miles east of the city. I pushed it a ways to get underneath an overpass and out of the sun but before I made it, somebody pulled over ahead of me in a Chevy Astro. Trying not to hear my Mother's voice and keep my head on straight, I eyeballed every sticker, memorized the license plate and scanned the dude head to toe. "1975?" he nails it. He's 60 something, an ex marine, and a Vietnam vet. Off the bat he's the bossiest stranger I’ve ever met. He's nice but a know-it-all and kinda irritated about something. Maybe my attitude. I stand my ground because I don't like people touching all over my bike just because they had one once. He was asking me all kinds of questions and I was trying to cool my jets because I might need his help. My bike wasn't hot, I had gas and my battery was charging above 13v but it still wasn't turning over. When I couldn't get the fuel lines off the filters to see if they were clogged, Ed cut them with a pocket knife. He was trying to be a marine but I was pissed. He offers to take me into town. He moves his wood chipper onto the top of the bed he built in the back to make room for my bike. I'm stalling. I mean, this is a horror movie script. With one wheel in and one wheel out of the van, I balked and said "forget it." He turned to me, bike balanced on his thigh, and said "Look, you need to decide one way or another. We can do this. If you commit, this bike will be in the van in 30 seconds." He could be bat shit crazy but at that moment, it was just a choice: in or out. Soccer Mom's and Harleys were blowing by me like I was roadkill. You gotta know when to fold em.

Ed.

We fought half the time but he drove me all the way back to the city for good karma and a picture. He rode off waiving the polaroid, laughing and yellin' down the alley. He was already working on the story he was going to tell his friends.

The Simple Life

2010-07-01T12:03:00.006-05:00

Sometimes things seem impossibly complicated. This morning they were quite simple.

Miriam is currently listening to: "One Hundred More Than One Hundred Times" by Judson Claiborne from the Album Time and Temperature.

The Greatest of Ease

2010-06-30T11:23:00.039-05:00

I may have been having a little too much fun with a lighting test in my hotel room on assignment in Detroit this past weekend. The pocket wizards were glitchy at my job the weekend before so I wanted to triple check my set up. Since these shots were self-timed, it took several tries to center myself just right.

Overshot this one juuuust a titch.

I don't get T.V. stations at home so I dig that part of staying in a hotel. Also a big fan of the hotel bed body slam. I think here I'm pretending that I just won the battle for the remote and I'm kind of being smug about it. Needless to say the shoot went splendidly the next day and my set-up was flawless. Fun and professional. Perfect.

Working Class

2010-06-24T16:54:00.000-05:00

You meet the nicest people on the side of the road.

Dad's Garden

2010-06-24T15:16:00.001-05:00

Daniel cut his pinky good on a broken wine glass reaching into the sink to clean up. Several stitches later Dad puts a homemade combination of herbs over his laceration to leach toxins, minimize possible infection and catalyze healing. Laughter does a heart good like medicine but the next best thing is something crushed by my Dad's hands.

Main Entry: ¹poul·tice

Pronunciation: \ˈpōl-təs\

Function: noun

Etymology: Middle English pultes, from Medieval Latin, literally, pap, from Latin, plural of pult-, puls porridge

Date: 15th century

: a soft usually heated and sometimes medicated mass spread on cloth and applied to sores or other lesions

Little America

2010-06-23T11:36:00.007-05:00

Josh smokes at the bottom of the steps

while the family fishes on a pond off the side of the road. Olney, Ill., USA

I'm going to miss Grandpa's 80th birthday party but I'll be in his hometown, later on in the summer shooting public pools and all other things Little America. County fairs, riding to the grocery store on a lawn mower, smashing pennies on the railroad tracks, poking each other with sharp sticks and shopping at a yard side vegetable stand where there is a ball jar trustily stuffed with one dollar bills sitting next to the ears of corn. It reads "3 Dollars a bunch"

Best of both worlds

2010-06-22T11:18:00.000-05:00

On the job last weekend.

Thanks to the brother of the groom who shot this photo (www.bmillerweddings.com)

And thank you Canon for the 50mm 1.4. Great shot, Brian.

My first wedding as a guest since high school!

Thank you Jessica.

And thank you Canon for the 85mm 1.2.

What makes you happy...

2010-06-18T10:35:00.036-05:00

What do you get when you throw a tiny fortune at all the things that make you happy; your family, the love of your life, your best friends, expensive salads, music, beautiful clothes, a tower of donuts and tons of booze? A Wedding! Here’s to redefining what marriage means to us and our audacity to carve a path into a successful future with the person we love. Long live love and long live forgiveness when it gets lost along the way.

Signature Cocktail...Champagne....Perfect!

Gram and Gramp

What is she wearing? Do you see that...right next to Uncle Carl in the '80's gettup.

Ahhh...summa time.

Dude....Donuts and Ice Cream? Seriously!

Video Games!

The beloved Photo Booth and your token friend who's bonified through Universal Life Church to hitch you and all your hommies. Do it your way.

First Long Ride

2010-06-10T12:45:00.003-05:00

First time riding in group formation which was cool...keeping things smooth without words. First time pulling off specifically to joke about my left blinker being on for the last 7 miles. First time riding into the country at sunset and riding back into the city at night. Speechless. And, it was my first time feeling like I made the right choice with this bike no matter how much trouble it has given me. It really does wanna run. Thanks for the stretch.

You're Welcome

2010-06-10T11:35:00.006-05:00

Bachelorette shrapnel from the morning after.....

My poor friend Jesse, visiting from Guatemala was stuck waiting at a sorry Dunken Donuts on Sunday until I could scrape myself out of bed to call and mumble my address to him. He then let himself and all his luggage into my 3^rd floor walk-up and found me in bed, fully dressed able only to motion for a pen in which I was miraculously able to scribble this.

This was humiliating, hilarious and adorable (in that order), for me to read in the resurrection phase of the day, when he held up this archive and asked if he could keep it. What a good friend!

I like to think it

2010-06-09T09:58:00.020-05:00

I saw this poster in someone’s garage and read the whole thing. I dig the angular motifs on this poster that emulate wings. Motorcycles and wings as if to say you are rooted to the earth, two wheels to the pavement, but still you soar, boundary-less.

I like a thing created out of limited resources like a slingshot v.s. Avatar in 3D. I’m fantasizing that me liking this eagle wing motif and me liking things like slingshots are connected. Maybe the loom used to create the wing motif I love so much is limited. Maybe you can't weave in a circle, or couldn't then. Maybe freedom is not about having endless choices but an individual choice to make something beautiful with the tools and limitations you have.

Besides all this, are all things Native American in-style right now?

Sleepovers

2010-06-08T16:53:00.000-05:00

I love sleepovers. They're the best. We have Wi-Fi and a french press and two chairs with brightly colored cushions that sit on our back porch over looking the river. It's great in the morning rain or shine......to wake up up with friends.

Curiosity Saves Lives

2010-06-04T09:33:00.003-05:00

ever thought of it?

ReRooted

2010-06-03T16:55:00.007-05:00

Rerooted from Rotary International on Vimeo.

Justin and I just finished the above project that our team covered in Central America this spring. I learned a lot from him as an editor. Mostly when to be directive and when to just let go. For the last three years, I've either photographed Justin on stage, watched his comedy shows or adjusted his collar to cover his tie at our 9-5. Quite the journey getting to know you. He told me today that sometimes he stands in awe of all the talented people he has the privilege to hang around and I relate to his gratitude. Thanks for everything Justin.The fact that I get to see your in a suit and tie everyday, makes me feel like it’s ok. Rock n' Roll.

Justin (video editor), Night and Day

Miriam, field producing, in the office.

Go Team.

Pure Michigan

2010-05-31T22:35:00.001-05:00

Daniel and me on the St. Joseph river.

We were late getting to the river because Allegan's Salvation Army was having a sale that I could see from the road. I have professional vision. My brother fought me, but walked out happy scoring that sweet fleece lined flannel. As usual, I was loafing around taking pictures, fetching tackle and walking spritzer refills out to my brother. I got down real low to get the water reflecting up under Dan's bill and ice water snuck up into the backside of my waders. Now it's a party.

Lost

2010-05-29T23:48:00.001-05:00

Corrine looks over a waterfall on the Arkansas river, one of many pit stops during on a trip across America with a map and no plans. She hit all the skate parks and I shot panF50 all day long. Pictures were everywhere then.

Happiness

2010-05-29T00:44:00.002-05:00

My Dad has been taking his kids fishing for 34 years. What love. Ruthie is about 3 here. Maybe this is in Wichita, could be West Virginia. Either way, looks like home.

Happy in the evening sun. Ruthie was an only child before she became the eldest of five. Wild.

The Roaster Room

2010-05-28T22:54:00.001-05:00

Mark's first roaster and shipment of green beans. He always smells like coffee. The first Waterstreet Coffee Joint opened in 1992. Happy 18th anniversary! See you at the dunes tomorrow. Hope the bike makes it. I'm bringing my toolkit in case I break down and someone else needs to use it.

I believe you

2010-05-28T19:08:00.007-05:00

Jesse's bridal shower was at my place this past weekend. This is the first wedding I'll attend in my adult life that I have not worked in some way. I catered them in college to pay for classes and soon after I took a photography elective, I began shooting them professionally. I'm enjoying being a part of something and not on the periphery. I have no excuse to be here, I'm invited.

Jessica asked everyone to share a memory of her...here she reads mine.

C side - Salom

2010-05-27T13:30:00.002-05:00

Rasheed, an orphan, listens back to his voice after singing
a Muslim hymn. This was recorded on a PCM D50 .wav file recorder.

Lucknow, India.

I guess that settles it

2010-05-20T10:50:00.006-05:00

I'm sure life is about more than doing everything you ever wanted, but I'm not sure what.

BELIEVE

2010-04-24T19:51:00.017-05:00

This post is for you Air Guitar. Thank you for pouring your guts out on stage in front of thousands of screaming, whiskey drenched fans for the third mind blowing year in a row.

2010 Minneapolis Regionals.

I appreciate you for what is still precious about rock n’ roll; the way music makes us feel. USAG is a perfect narrative. A hero, villan, underdog, defender, legend, tragic fool, loyal friends, devotees and the men behind the curtain. It's all here.

(Left to right), 2008 World Champion Hot Lixx Huluhan, legend Bjorn Turoque and USAG's air traffic control, West Hays at The Varsity, 2010 Minneapolis regionals. This crew = whip smart and choke-on-your-own-spit funny. Former Minneapolis champion Airesol sits to West's right as an official judge,11 months pregnant.

2010 Chicago Regionals

An air guitarist must believe in themselves enough to go this far, but also be in on the joke. Most veterans will tell any newbie to, most importantly, have fun and be a good sport. Then they'll tear apart your pick slide techniques.

Lost Hearbreaker plays Chicago arena style.

Zero Prospects serves Chicago. Lovely Creature.

(Left to right), USAG General Manager Nat Hays, Chicago regional judges Hot Lixx Huluhan and Zero Prospects (ranked 7th in the world). Nordic Thunder takes Chicago for the 3rd time after sitting out last year while he recovered from back surgery.

"Before the competition I was like 'gotta win, gotta win, gotta win,' but when I got to San Fransisco - just hanging out with everyone...it's like a giant family. Being a part of this is worth more than a title. You hear, 'Make Air Not War' and 'if you're holding an Air Guitar, you can't be holding a gun'....but, honestly, Air Guitar can save the world. If everyone acted the way we do towards each other, the world would be a better place. The competition is important. We take it seriously. But it is second hand to the friendship and bonds that are made." NT 2008

Milwaukee contendors VanDamage, Romeo Dance Cheetah and Magic Cyclops.

Bjorn Turoque, Minneapolis.

Mean Melin performed in three cities (that I saw) and came in just shy of qualifying for nationals. Help him get to Vegas?

Hot Lixx Hulahan (center) does Freebird with the Lost Heartbreaker at the 2010 Minneapolis regional.

I have never seen such devotion between the audience and performer. It's a loving experience. Hey McNallica! Quit giving everyone else in Boston a chance and come back. You rock my socks off! Nationals?

Regional competitions are really fun. It's like seeing 16 people play a home game. But nationals are a whole 'nother beast. Regional champs go up against the best in the nation at a chance to represent the United States at the World Championship in Finland.

Dan Crane, (Bjorn Turoque) at the Sir Frances Drake hotel in San Fransisco. 2008 Nationals. Fantastic portrait subject.

The founders of U.S. Air Guitar, Kriston Rucker (red wristband) and Cedric Devitt.

Preshow at the SFD in SF, Dan Crane (right) and Kriston Rucker.

Denver Champion, Big Rig and Brooklyn Champion Betty B. Goode, now engaged to be married, interview before 2008 Nationals.

Twin Brothers, Big Rig and Stryker.

Thanks for putting on a fantastic show...again.
To all the regional champs, Good Luck at Nationals!! - Miriam

The Lover

2010-04-05T16:52:00.013-05:00

I picked Jim up on Saturday morning in Brian Frain’s diesel pickup wearing my infamous “freedom wrap.” We were road-tripping out past the Mississippi river to pick up my first motorcycle and take some pictures. Jim brought his land camera and an old Yashika film body and I brought my digital.

It was raining when we got started, but just outside Polo, Illinois, the clouds blew away.

Meet “El Amador,” the lover

We’ll go to a parking lot somewhere and just take it slow. Even if it’s not perfect right away, let’s give this a chance.

Miriam's first bike. A Honda '75 cb360, near Galena IL. Photo by: Jim Luning

Next stop, the Jim and Jim show. I'm about to experience some major motor-head-ness. This guy’s garage was a chop-shop slash museum. Never seen anything like it. It was “organized” in the same way my bedroom is – looks like a hurricane hit the laundry line but you know where everything is.

When I asked if I could photograph, the guy said “It’s kinda creepy, but whatever.” I think this is knucklehead for "yes." I was going to say something smart ass but I saw his ATF hat and thought again. Never under-estimate the power of not saying anything. And by that, I mean me, specifically.

This is where Jim says to Jim, "Oh you've never had to get a mechanic's title? It's real easy. You just go down to the secretary of state...."

I wander.

Jim does a why-the-hell-not and picks up a '73 Yamaha TX500 to flip for a few hundred bucks.

Tighten down and head back to the city. Thanks Jim, Brian Frain, Chris, Karena and Kemosabe. Amen.

R & A -- Forever

2010-03-19T11:06:00.009-05:00

I have taken many many pictures of Rachel and we've become friends.

I wear the slippers she knit me, play songs she's sung and eat jellies she's jammed. I like to sit back in awe of how strong and soft someone can be in one loving body. Last month she sent me the email below:

"....On January 2nd, our second anniversary, I proposed to Adrian."

"I shocked the hell out of him but I got a yes anyway. Attached is the

visual aid I labored over and used to get my wishes across... While

Mr. Perez responded in the affirmative, he was fairly speechless and

so a week later, for good measure, he gave me a more clear and concise

answer (also attached). He made it while sitting in the parking lot

of Joann Fabric's after getting the necessary supplies. One of those

images I'll forever treasure."

Congratulations R + A. Me love you long time.

Rachel does a Bismarke Cover in the living room "Just a Friend"

Instantaneously Yours

2010-03-18T12:21:00.001-05:00

Dear Jesus: Thank you for letting Mom draw my name for Christmas this year. Mom, this post is for you.

I've been having so much fun with the Fuji Instax.

You have to get the hang of aiming this thing. The stock viewfinder is way off. I put up with it for a while but eventually made my own out of a pop can and duck taped it to the top.

Crew

Ascent

Decent

Home

Thanks Mom!

Misionero del Camino

2010-03-02T22:40:00.000-06:00

Laundry hangs at an Orphanage. Sumpango, Guatemala.

El Amor de Mi Vida

2010-03-02T21:46:00.001-06:00

Time Traveling

2010-03-02T21:00:00.004-06:00

Antigua, Guatemala, Day 4, Central America.

I catch myself drifting a lot these days. Nice thing is, when I snap back to real time, I like where I am. The next time you see a friend with "the distance" in their eyes, they might be orbiting somewhere between here and everywhere they've ever been. They'll be back.

My new Motto:

2010-02-25T22:00:00.000-06:00

Life's Dirty. Get busy making it look pretty.

It Only Takes One Arm To Shoot a Man

2010-02-11T12:44:00.005-06:00

Dear Jenny,

My friend, housewife, live-in guru, bodyguard, badass wingman, shit kicking hilarious i-can-count-on-you roomie...I missed you. It's too bad I got in so late. The empty champagne bottle on the kitchen table was the perfect welcome home gift for when I stumbled in from a 5 hour layover in Houston.

It started with the best movie of all time, Roadhouse. Now, we're savin up all our change for a "Dirty 30" birthday bash while watching every worthwhile western under the sun. Before I left for Central America, we knocked off The G,B and Ugly, Unforgiven, The Lonesome Dove series, Cool Hand Luke, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and ok we slipped in a couple of others like Easy Rider. I can't even think of them all. Perfect.

When I saw this cowboy on the wall of an orphange in Sampango, Guatemala, I thought of you. None of the kids would admit to tearing this cowboy's arm off. Maybe it was an act of God. Regardless, it reminded me, "it only takes one arm to shoot a man."

So good to be home. xo, Miriam

Day One - Ak Tenamit

2010-02-02T20:21:00.004-06:00

Ak Tenamit is a community development project sponsored in part by Rotary. This was one of our feature projects on assignment. The goal is to support the indigenous Q’eqchi’ Maya by providing schools, medical care and vocational training geared towards tourism while preserving their language and culture.

Jungle gear. Canon Eos digital system, PCM d50 .wav file recorder. Moleskin writers notebook, mosquito bandannas, A sig, two Pepsi's and a Patagonia nano-puff.

Staff Photographer, Monik Lee shoots the kids on their way to school at the main Ak Tenamit site.

Ak Tenamit accessable only by boat.

Kids arrive at the main dock.

Path into the community.

Kids prune the pineapple fields. We had these for lunch. Delish.

On the way to deliver water filters to a small village of about nine families, we try to find a narrow place to cross.

Nope.

Better but No.

Perfect.

Village peeps. Pretty happy to see us.

Angel face.

Brother and Sister.

A group of Rotarians haul the filters over and explain how to maintain them and why clean water is important. Dehyration/Diareah is a major contributor to infant mortality especially without access to healthcare.

Monik gets a grip on the edge of an incline and goes for the scene-setter.

Working together with the Q’eqchi’ to assemble and test the filters is important for sustaining the use of the filter.

Back to Ak Tenamit to build a library.

What is your "Rotary Footprint?"

Rotary Jane got a pedi just in time to look jungle glam.

Raising the tresses on a library they set out to build in two weeks including pouring a concrete foundation.

Founder of Ak Tenamit, Rotarian Steven Dudenhoefer. Nothing gets to this guy. They call him: "Angel de Rio," Angel of the River.

Day one wrap. Back to Livingston..a bit of a ride but everyone is happy.

The Rio Dulce River: Lifesource of the Q’eqchi’ Maya.

Bon Voyage

2010-01-26T19:29:00.009-06:00

I leave at 3 a.m. this moring on assigment in Central America for two weeks. It's right about now that I wonder how the !^*%@$ I got so lucky. Nerves don't come like they used to. I used to worry that MY plan wouldn't happen. Now I know that all you can do is your best. All the rest...duck feathers, let it roll.

I'd like to leave ya'll with something. Here is the first in a series of
random outakes that stood out because they say something odd, taught me something or make me feel, dare I say, hopeful.

A girl tries to show her her mother that lighting bugs are flashing. But every time her mother looks they aren't there. Despite how enchanted the girl is, her mother is preoccupied.

An oyster farm worker separates oysters from their natural clusters and Mark takes a walk through a graveyard of shucked shells. It's foggy and cool. The scene exudes nostalgia. Consequently I've know Mark since I was 16. He's seen me take every corner including the phone conversation when I told him I didn't believe in God anymore. He knew what that meant to me and said, "Miriam, I don't think you could live long enough to push that love away and why would you want to? What do you love that makes any sense at all? Not making sense doesn't make it any less real."

Steve and Clara -Engagment session Chicago El stop. Love stories, some of the greatest.

I got to Alcala's one night just in the nick to pick up a camera bag they did superior leather work on. I'm usually not one for cynicism but ...is this warehouse of hatless cowboys proof that God don't make men like he used to? Nah.

Miriam, the consta-stand in for location portrait set up. Seattle Washington hunger project.

I photographed a goat slaughter from bleat to meat so Tony insists I hold one half of the trophy before I make an apple pie.

This guy must have thought I was a loon. His name was Mulana Fazari a Muslim religious leader in Lucknow, India. I was trying to be a floating orb of ease and grace because he told me in the beginning, it was difficult for him to separate me, a young and optimistic journalist, from my country's politics. In response I asked him if his beard was real. Since it had to be translated, the timing was perfect and we had a good laugh. He proceeded to feed me a "yogurt cake" that kept me in my room for 3 days. Paybacks. Thanks America.

Waiting for a Rickshaw driver to pass by at the perfect time so the photographer on the roof could get an aerial shot. Failed attempt. Lots of those. Back on the horse.

This was the first time I'd ever played back someones recorded voice to themselves; recipient at a food bank.

Driftwood on Lake Superior, UP. Discoveries of natural design are worth the chaos. They remind me that over time, stories tell themselves.

Oh, and one more thing.
Thank you.

Teasin and Freezin

2010-01-21T11:57:00.001-06:00

D and Jordy dig through a pile of trunk stuff to get invisible. Good thing they're putting on head to toe camo to get inside a camo ground blind where no one will be be able to appreciate their sweet outfit until they're walking back to the car after dark.

Jordy said if I was gonna laugh the whole time that I should go home which I thought was a perfect thing for him to say. They sure were easy to see even though they had so many invisible things on. Maybe I've just got good eyes.

Making fun round two revolved around how bent Dans hunting cap was. So Phi Kappa Retard. I was like "Hey Dan, did you run that hat through the dishwasher and put the bill inside a cup to get it to curl like that?"

Dan said I had to spray this stuff in my mouth so the deer wouldn't smell me. It is so hard to trust him on stuff like this especially when he's laughing on the inside and I have it coming. Stuff is so funny around him.

I'll tell you why we didn't shoot any deer. Because we were having too much fun. The only thing missing was a bowl of popcorn and some venison jerky. We were even texting people about how much fun were having and how many deer we weren't catching.

We did get serious towards the end but it was too late. Every deer in Hickory Corners knew our 10-20 and our punch lines. We were bound to teasin' and freezin'. Dan kept talking about that 15 minute sweet spot right before dark but we'd get to laughin'. Jordy if you're reading this. We admit it, we ruined everything but thanks for a great time.

You don't have to walk for miles

2010-01-20T11:23:00.006-06:00

This post is for Travis.

It's harder to do it alone.

You do not have to be good

You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles in the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

-M. Oliver

Feather and Cap

2010-01-15T17:43:00.001-06:00

My Dad's workshop. That tumbler in background is what my Dad calls "three fingers...," as in, how warm do I want my belly to get while I craft a series of custom feather sets for the hat I bought my brother for his birthday.

I did feather sets for "every day," "traditional" and "an occasion." The "occasion" set (left) had a longer turkey feather tied in that was died purple. Using real feathers helped appearance and movement. When they are lifted by the wind, real materials just look more pimp.

I used feathers from an outdoor sports place for fly tying. Quail, duck, turkey, pheasant, goose and so on. Awesome shopping experience. Once they get taken out of their perfectly fanned pattern, they're tough to get back into a natural form....but worth it.

Fun fun fun til Daddy takes the polish vodka away....I have left overs if anyone wants to try this.

Old Faithful

2010-01-04T00:24:00.016-06:00

While I was home this Christmas, I set up my mother's bible near the bay window in the living room to photograph it. She explains that I tore this page while she was nursing me. Genesis. Sigh. If she was only reading Revelations.

The pages are separating from it's disintegrating spine despite layers of scotch tape carefully creased with perfectly painted fingernails.

They want to know exactly what God means. I have questions about this but they don't come out of my mouth softly like I want them to.

During a phone interview last week at work, I spoke with a Rotary Cadre member we are profiling for a project in Panama. He said after our shoot, he's staying on a few days to take some pictures. He explains that he speaks the language and knows the people in town so it's easier for him to get access...go into homes and get to know people. Even if he's not connecting or sharing meaning, he can at least get what he needs. This is how I feel photographing these pages.

I was surprised to see how may of these books were marked. How can the onion skin pages hold up under such stress? The tiny writing and highlighting and underlining and white out with the more-right idea on top. The coffee stains and some pages completely missing or torn out by a nursing child. The pages could be yellowed by time or Virginia Slim menthol light 100's or both. How to know history exactly? I try to read her writing. I look very close and squint. I wonder what she is thinking so seriously about. Maybe if the word "and" really means "with" in this particular case and how that changes everything.

One of my new years resolutions is for more questions to come out of my mouth. Easy girl. Softer now.

Boom Boom Boom = Merry Christmas!

2009-12-28T01:45:00.003-06:00

We did gift exchange on Christmas Eve this year leaving Christmas day free for target shooting. We collected empty bottles, filled them with water and drove out to Jacob's auto shop out in Oshtemo township.

My younger brother John Daniel.

A 30-30 Marlin, the classic cowboy. A handsome rifle. This is my favorite of the lot. Easy to shoot and reload. I think the chamber took 10 bullets...a pretty good run if you feel like taking it.

I like this rifle because it's accurate. Dan advises to aim low.

Nails it.

Dan atomizes a Tide bottle full of water. The bottle was empty when we filled it with water, but we could smell the detergent from 30 yards back when he shot it.

The 410. Also a Marlin, I think. This rifle is nice. It's not the .30-30, but It doesn't knock me around like a 12 gauge would. The .22 even hurts. But, the 410's shells' spray quickly so it wasn't a good fit for me target shooting unless someone was throwing 12 water balloons in the air.

"Every day, in some way, I think of you."

My hands are cold and, if I remember correctly, the break lever is sticking a bit here.

I would have liked to have the 80-200 mm lens out here. Would've been nice to have some continuous shutter shots of different water bottles exploding to see how different ammunition effects the targets.

My brother loads a clip for a Tech 9 my Dad bought back in the mid-nineties when the senate passed a bill to make these illegal to own. The bill has since expired and they are completely legal, but not that fun to shoot. Most importantly, there is no way to tell where the bullets are going. It's hella expensive. You can go through a clip (I think this one held 35 9mm slugs) in less than 20 seconds. In fact, I'm a little ashamed to have shot this firearm after realizing there is only one reason someone has this thing other that to show off and that's to spray a moving target no matter how fast it's moving as long as it's pointed in it's general direction. I think you can take the pin out of this firearm to make it fully automatic, or you can bump fire which we did not try for fear of loosing a belt loop or a thumb. Better to do with a piece of wood or board as a brace.

Hope you got a chance to blow off some steam like we did!

Come out Come out, Wherever You Are

2009-12-21T23:24:00.005-06:00

Somewhere between Seelye Lake and Flathead Lake, Montana.

I ran into an old friend the other night at The Burlington. We flew through the small talk and got straight to best practices for tracking someone who doesn't want to be found. Since he's from Montana and his dad is a bailbondsman there, I thought he might have some advice. He told a couple stories about tagging along with his Dad and gave me some ideas. Thanks Buddy. I'm on to something.

Wolfgang and Gertrude

2009-12-21T21:45:00.018-06:00

I love my place. Its a steal. It would have to be to put up with my stanky pit, grouchity ole prickle pen of a landlord, Wolfgang Buhler. The day I moved in, he took down my wind chimes and just said "noise pollution." He also called me 'thunderfoot' in a behind-my-back-in-front-of my-face kind of way claiming I sounded like a "herd of cattle," going up and down the steps. You name it, I did it, and he complained about it. I left the gate open and dropped "unmentionables" on the stairs coming up from doing laundry in the basement. I left my back porch lights on all night and put a lot of trash out the day after garbage day. One day, I locked myself out of the house and he let me sit up there for 15 minutes like he wasn't gonna help me because I was so stupid for doing that. He had just replaced my back window because I locked myself out and threw a brick through my back door.
But.... eventually we shoveled sidewalks together, dug each others cars out of the snow, split girl scout cookie orders and reminded each other about street cleaning and snow plowing. Wolfgang even offered to move my car when I traveled because sometimes you get a ticket when your car stays in one place too long. If there's one thing Wolfgang hated more than me, it was the Man. When I rolled my bike out this spring, he replaced both my tubes and filled them with air. This summer, I brought him heirloom transplants from my Dad's garden. In return, he showed me a perfectly restored 35 mm Leica that his brother used in WWII as a journalist. I was so impressed. Then, he asked if I wanted a beer. I am voting this my best beer of the year.

Just The Way You Are

2009-12-14T19:23:00.013-06:00

I got commissioned to shoot the last of my Polaroid film, a project inspired by my good friend Tony. Although most of original ingredients in the Polaroid emulsion can no longer be found, the impossible project is underway, hoping to keep instant in our lives minus digital. There are already some adorable products on the market like the Fuji Instax = so fun. The Polaroids posted here are peel-aparts shot on a 2 1/4 format camera. True to magic, they don't have to beg for acceptance no matter how they turn out including chemical streaks, light leaks, faulty peels, thumbprints, dust, and temperature variations. At first, I didn't like that the exposure on the 2 1/4 format left a black strip along the side. I once bought a couple of dark slides on ebay hoping to have a friend custom cut an aperture out of the slide and force the negative to expose in an even all around square. But, once the slide was cut, it was too flimsy to insert into the back of the camera. We tossed them. My ambitious attempt to control the outcome failed and I was back having to accept things as they are. Ultimately a good exercise for too-fast-for-love never-satisfied me. Instead, I shoot where the light spills in through a large window for 10 feet before fading to black, making the otherwise black strip invisible.

Will Post Soon

2009-12-08T14:36:00.002-06:00

Car blew up on the highway, wallet stolen, home improvement and a job that won't quit. I miss you. Will post soon.

Foolish things to Confound the wise

2009-11-23T12:05:00.024-06:00

I go to dinner last night and talk about how much I miss God and how this is like the longest breakup ever and maybe once you love something with all your heart it takes the rest of your life to let it go. As I walk back to my car, I see a woman kneeling at the alter of a Hispanic storefront church. She’s weeping and praying. I think this is so beautiful. She is squeezing her hands, praying really hard, as if the harder she squeezes, the harder God might listen. The harder he might save her. The harder he might forgive her. The harder he might make things better for her family. A man opens the door and I say "no thank you," three times before I go in and sit down. Plastic chairs, plastic flowers, weird everything, and speakers taller than me. It was like being inside a really loud life size Hispanic Jesus diorama.

A middle aged, pregnant woman walks in after me and asks me what verse we are on. I don’t know because the whole thing is in Spanish. Plus it’s hard to hear her because the music is so loud and people are playing tambourines and maracas. Her bible is in English so she says we can share. She has very big hoop earrings and smells good, like lotion. She hands me her bible and says “I Corrinthians 1:26.” I flip to it instantly and hand it back to her. She traces the words for me with her very long pinky nail. There is another woman in the crowd who keeps shouting “Santos.” It reminds me of a teenage boy I met in the Dominican Republic filming in a Haitian batey on the edge of an abandoned sugar can field. There are emerald mine landslides on the horizon and it’s pouring rain. He calls himself Johnny b. Goode. The village idolizes him. He is from this slum but learned to speak English and 6 other languages. He now works at a resort as a translator and sends money home to his Mother and brothers. He goes into a 10 x 12 cinder block house, where his family lives, and gets an electric guitar. He starts to play “hurt” by Johnny Cash but can’t remember the words so he sings a hymn that repeats the word "Santos...," but I don't know what it means. I tapped the woman on the shoulder who was sitting beside me at this church and ask"what is Santos?” “Saint," she said.

Johnny b Goode's song:

Pre Pro Ohio

2009-11-18T11:26:00.011-06:00

This weekend was a recon mission in Ohio for a personal doc project that's in the uh, pre-production phase. It was also my birthday weekend which I spent doing what I love. So, I couldn't ask for more. My buddy Tony just so happened to move back out to his Grandma's farm in Williston, Ohio, which is about an hour from where some of the shooting for this doc will take place. Go figure. The farm house is in the middle of nowhere and half gutted but has electricity and running water, a perfect HQ. Plus so many things that a Miriam likes. Barns and bats and honey bees and old wallpaper and weird old things to wonder about.

Uncle Jay fed and bathed us. Thanks Uncle Jay.

If you're looking at this, you're smiling.

David ordains himself at Goodwill off Route 20, much like the main character of this documentary. He buys a golden jacket to authenticate the ordination. We took the back roads home which took an extra 4 hours but I love to do this. I also love to thrift shop xept I don't like to do it in the city. I like St. Augustine's trash n' treasure and places that don't know what they've got yet unlike Chicago trying to sell a fur coat at Salvation Army for $300. This was David's bday prez to me. I get to stop wherever and whenever I want - no complainin'. David, you are the best.
All of these frames were stills shot in live mode with the 5D MII. I can't show most of the video I shot in Ohio yet, but here's a clip from the breakfast joint we frequented that was also a bar.

Delayed Reaction

2009-11-09T23:31:00.010-06:00

South Haven, Michigan circa 2002

I bought some old camera at an estate sale to see if it would work and it did. I've since sold this camera at a garage sale for 3 dollars. I processed the film from these photos years after I took them. This must be 6 years ago at least?

Tish and Chris outside O'duffy's. Kalamazoo.

Lady in the park across from 4th coast but also if you turn the screen and look at it upways there is another picture I can't make out of a man with his arm around a woman.

Ruth and me. Location unknown.

Corrine writing in her journal. We shared this bed while we were trying to save money living with Ruth on Merrill. Just a big fort house that place was.

Maybe it'll Love you Back

2009-11-09T21:57:00.012-06:00

Photograph what you love.

I vaguely remember the day my brother was was born but my Dad recorded it on cassette. He mailed it to me recently. Hearing the seven year old me, standing at the end of the bed my brother was born in, was something. I was anxious but sweet. I couldn't wait. So little and big too.

I want her to have something too. Hannah worked at the stables everyday during the summer to get to ride Wolf twice a week and take him to fair. She and my Mom would spend hours braiding his mane and hers to match. All of us took vacation days to come home and see her place 28th in freestyle. There is a box called "Hannah." Someday, I'll send it to her.

Autumn Under Water

2009-11-04T16:43:00.014-06:00

I shot these at a street corner, where I waited for a friend, thinking about how much I m.f. love the midwest. A lot of my friends have moved to more temperate climates. They "can't do these winters anymore." It's worth it to me. Here, it does on the outside what I do on the inside. I like when leaves fall like tiny pieces of paper from a tall building or when I see someone scraping a ice off their windshield with a CD case. Sometimes it's so cold, it's rude but it makes spring sweeter. And, our trees. They change in that way I can't say because it's too good that you know what I mean and I don't have to. I'd miss it.

My New Boyfriend

2009-10-30T10:43:00.007-05:00

Elizabeth Pratt and Brian Matsumoto, our Midwest Canon reps, came to the office with bags of toys and industry gab yesterday. Since the photo expo in NYC was just last week, I felt super VIP looking at the style spread with all the bells and whistles right in our studio. Photography is taking an exhilarating turn. All models now shooting HD video for one. This could be overwhelming and intimidating but change or die. For me, the story is the most important thing. Now, straight from the hip, we call tell a story in whatever medium fits the moment.

Canon 1D Mark IV. 16.1 Megapixel camera, ISO range of 50-102,400 (yeah). Shot coworker sitting in a chair in the dark and the image was kind of beautiful. Get on a waiting list. $4,995

The Canon 5D Mark II. These are getting used a lot in motion picture now I guess b/c they are considered disposable by DP's. Set it up inside a burning boat hit the "explode" button and go pry the chip out. No big deal.

The new version of the 100mm vibe resistant macro. Yum. This images was shot with a fun little 35 mm fixed tilt shift lens Brian brought in for kicks.

Brian shows us the video capabilities of the 5D Mark II. Still with the tilt shift here. Fun but you need some time to set up the curved focal plane. Not a shoot from the hip thing but entertaining and prob good for architecture with the 90mm version.

Thanks Brian and Elizabeth! We love the new toys!

Bored to Sleep

2009-10-30T00:40:00.014-05:00

I got one good picture of Bobby Jr. before he quit pretending he cared about anything except cereal and his Saturday Morning cartoons. These photos are taken at the Chicago legend Bobby Conn's house in Humbolt Park. His son, Bobby Jr. goes through several stages of being disinterested in our "concept," which ends in exhaustion. When I'm bored, I get sleepy too.

Nikon F4 - Fuji 800 NPZ.

Noah's Ark

2009-10-27T16:27:00.019-05:00

I'm on a new television show where we travel back in time to the origins of life's greatest mysteries to find out what really happened. This weeks episode, we were transported to Point Reyes, just north of San Fransisco before "Noah's Ark," beached on dry land. Turns out, it wasn't Noah's ark. It was my brother, John Daniel's ark. And he loaded us in two by two, just in time.

We leave the city early in the morning to load into the boat.

John Daniel receives the holy spirit and takes us to the ark with his eyes closed to prove it.

"All aboard, two by two, as God commandethed."

Male and female, clean an unclean.

John Daniel unties his pet red-tailed hawk to seek dry land.

The hawk returns with a green leafy substance, a really good sign that the new world was going to be way better.

John Daniel knew he had done the right thing and would soon deliver his people the new land. Magical.

When you roll with Jesus, you always get ambassador parking.

The new world. Only the holy remain. Go forth. Record scratch. Levi's is using that one now.

Inhale and multiply.

Bleat to Meat

2009-10-22T20:44:00.048-05:00

From the beginning.....Tony and David live in the city and buy meat in a styrofoam package like everyone else. One day they decided they should go out to West Chicago, buy a goat from a farmer, slaughter it, cook it and invite all their friends over to eat it.

11 a.m. Pick up Mike. West Chicago.

Noon. Farmer down the street from Mike's place.

1:00 p.m. Back to Mike's.

This is where I went numb. It happened very fast.

1:15 p.m.

3:50 p.m. Tony and Mike decide on a curry rub.

4:30 p.m. I wash up, reflect and make the fixings for an apple pie.

7 p.m. Oven baked, curry rubbed goat.

8:30 p.m. Apple pie.

9 p.m. Mike and Rebba's. Warm, full, and getting all the feeling back now.

Art and Science

2009-10-21T14:13:00.015-05:00

First of all, sorry it's been so long. Also, my hair has gotten really long. It's expensive to maintain even with the "I have better things to do" roots look...which was according to my colorist sort of brazillian-super-model-vogue for a while so I was lucky, but it's phazing out. I have to get creative. Luckily, I shot a hair show for a fancy salon this weekend on trade. Whew. This shoot is loosely connected to Anne Reed. Shocker. Hopefully they'll let me give her a few of my cuts. Anne "the shit" Kellogg Reed has gotten me more work than anyone ever. Aside from shooting inside a closet, this job was good practice. There were 42 models lined up outside my closet and I had about 3 minutes with each one. Being quick and gentle is tough but I enjoyed it. "open your shoulders, softer in the eyes, think about the one person you really loved, look straight through me, more of that one thing you just did with your hands, i like that, that's nice, will you take your shirt off? it's warm in here, is that ok? that's better, cleaner, i think they'll like that."

Music Night

2009-10-13T11:29:00.012-05:00

Music Night......my first apple pie of the year, Mennonite bread rolls, champagne, mexican hot chocolate with brandy, Ben's new guitar and the family band.

"Cake Walk"

The Salmon Run

2009-10-07T19:51:00.015-05:00

Dad walks Justin around the tackle box at the Allegan dam.

Brother John Daniel, sleepin on the job. Too many St. Julian cabernet mini's.

Dad's favorite spot, "on and in the river."

God bless Ilford 3200. I love the grit. We make a pit stop on our way back to the city. Justin and my brother Dan looking like a couple of lot lizard body guards, holding their brand new Daisy 10 pumps from WalMart. It was my birthday so I bought myself a co2 powered bb hand pistol. But, now that I have my Illinois license, I applied for my FOID card. The big girl shooting range is on my bday list this year.

The City of David

2009-10-03T20:44:00.020-05:00

On my way back from a job in St Joseph Michigan I take a 94 ramp detour. I see weird rows of tiny houses, private property signs, religious iconography and all other things interesting to a Miriam. It's The City of David, an Israelite settlement founded by two traveling LDS missionaries in 1902. In it's hayday, it had an amusement parks, a semi-pro baseball team, and over a thousand people living on these few acres of land. In 1912, things started to fall apart. The baseball team was exposed for hiring professionals and dressing them in beards, the law was after them for counts of abuse on several levels and in 1926, a member led the police to an underground chamber in the founder's mansion where they found him in bed with his harem of soon-to-be-ex-virgins.

Cottage #3

This is what I got busted photographing, now Jim's house. Jim was their groundskeeper for 30 years and he's still around. We sat and talked for a while. Since he can't do most of the things he used to, Jim sharpens things to get by. Anything that needs to be sharpened he can sharpen it. His business card reads "carbide rotor bits, steel circular blades, hedge blades, change blades, scissors, tin snips etc...."

If the City of David was still the community it used to be, "I'd join em," he tells me. Not because he believes in God but just because they were his family. They took care of him. They gave him this house to live in.

He shows me pictures and letters and brochures. Mostly from his his son who visited 3 years ago. His son is a nuclear chemist, working on the infrastructure of a facility in South Carolina that plans to recycle plutonium from nuclear warheads to create new independent energy.

Jim thinks he has a spirit in the house. He's lonely. I think he wants it this way and I think he knows he doesn't have any ghosts but his own.