Manifest Destiny

I followed my easily excitable roommate to an industrial wasteland; remnants of Worcester's bright past and a reminder of its dismal future.  We exited the car and inhaled deeply of the toxic fumes.  I thought to myself "I could settle down here, make a home, start a family".  Turns out some jackasses had beat me to it.  We found one such abode inside the columns pictured here.  We went inside, toured the luxurious living room and snapped some pictures.  As we left I tacked an eviction notice to the peeling concrete determined to come back and seize what should be rightfully mine.  Out there, amongst the twisted metal and voluminous debris I could work the land; really find myself.  Either way my photo shoot was fruitful but yielded few usable shots so I will be back and those jackasses better watch out.  I will climb to the top of the tower and decree "I have come to make art and conquest, and not necessarily in that order".

Tetnus- A Metaphor for Life

Last year, I used to sleep on the couch every night. In fact I still do, but not as often. Though I have a luxurious bed, padded with sumptuous egg-crate and adorned with calming whale themed sheets, I was having sleepless nights on it. My couch is a half-foot too short, covered in grime, and itchy. Itchy as balls. But it was the only place I could sleep. Some people say I have an aversion to comfort and the more I consider it the more it makes sense. I think that my attraction to rusty objects is, like the couch, proof of my condition. I'm still trying to work with the color here and the shadows are a bit drastic but it is the tangle of decrepit metal that piques my interest. Maybe tonight I'll sleep in a junkyard.

Passion

This bird awoke in me a range of emotions. I was immediately awed by the majesty of nature, nearly blinded by her beauty. I thought, how fortuitous am I? I must be the luckiest bastard to find a living animal in a Worcester pond and I even had my camera to prove it. The last positive feeling I remember was the sun caressing my face as I raised my camera to shoot. Then it was only: Fuck this outcropping, fuck this embankment, fuck this vantage point, fuck this shutter speed, and a big fuck you to this lens. As I struggled to keep my pants up and my camera from falling my feathered subject spread his massive wings and took flight. His grace and poise made me stop, paralyzed by emotion. All I could think was: Fuck that bird. And my whole day was irreparably ruined.

Rules of the Thumb

It amazes me when I think about how young I was when I first started photography. In fifth grade I chose black & white photography as an elective at my camp. On my inaugural shoots I arrived at a few creative epiphanies that soon became a short operating manual for how I approached the medium. The one rule that governed my shoots was that I hated- absolutely detested- taking photos with people in them. Even now, seven or eight years the wiser, the moment I put the viewfinder up to my face my first impulse is to eradicate the presence of any person in the frame. This age old aversion is perhaps indicative of something else. Either I am too stubborn to branch out or I just really hate people.

What to Do?

Before taking this Digital Photo class, I hadn't used an SLR since Sophmore year of high-school. However, re-mastering the SLR is easy compared to deciding what pictures to take. I haven't had to think about composing a photo for a long time. So, when I went to downtown Worcester to test drive my camera I was immediately faced with the challenge of re-formating my brain to think in terms of photography. I realize now that my photographic creativity is ensconced in a thick layer of rust. Figuring out how to clean it off will be an arduous process.

Nothing more peaceful than a graveyard in tumult.