i like to tell stories

An older then me gentlemanly man started talking with her, I think she struck it up actually, points to the New Yorker he was reading. Who says magazines are dead? He departed a few stops later and she pulled out a book, I kept fidgeting with my camera. The train stopped short and fast at the next station bumping us into each other and again we exchanged our quiet disappointment.

As she went back to reading, before I consciously even knew it was aloud, I said, “Who made those shoes?” We chatted and I asked her if I could take a photograph of one of them, she smiled, was agreeable and stuck her foot out. So I did, I took a photograph. I also told her I wanted to take one on the platform while they were on that great yellow stripe, but that I was too shy to ask.

touch the image for a 15s video

December 25, 2006 | 2 Years Old
(still image January 16, 2010)

– transcribed from a voice over by Irakly Avaliani, in a work by Gueorgui Pinkhassov

– transcribed from a voice over by Irakly Avaliani, in a work by Gueorgui Pinkhassov

It has one flaw, a flaw that is mine and given the short history of events since this books existence, I now consider this flaw an ideal one. If someone ends up owning this copy, I will explain it to them when they ask and when they prove to me they indeed have it.

As of this moment, this is the only copy of this book there will be but I make no such promise to keep it buried forever or not created anew.

As of this moment, only one person besides myself has seen this book. This person was my mother and it was shared with her on a day that was her 66th birthday. I placed it in a hot yellow beam of Texas sunlight and made these final images of this object. The printing does not show as well as it truly is in these photographs below…

I received two stories of “Merry Fucking Christmas” from two people that don’t know one another. One directly and one indirectly, both I think about the same thing but I will never know the true intent of one of these. Both however were sent from a place of lonely or simply being alone.

I made something tangible and quite special to give away and then did, albeit in ways and in reasons I never intended, but just as special if not more so. Around this same time, I received a gift I never expected, not tangible and very fleeting, but quite real in its false moments.

Before I left New York on my current journey, I was able to go to a special place and allowed to leave with two of what this place makes special without leaving any of my cash or my heart behind for these rewards.

Slug went to Texas A&M for college and in December 1941 was a sophomore. It is grand Texas Aggie folklore/fact that after Pearl Harbor, almost all the Texas Aggies joined the Marine Corp. My grandfather Slug was one of them.

He served several years and went on to meet my grandmother at a USO function and they settled back in Texas.

I only lived in Texas for three years growing up and did not really see him very often. The last time I can remember seeing him alive was during the last year I lived my three in Texas. I was a freshman in high school and was just wrapping up the JrROTC final inspection of which I was a large part. It was the largest formal inspection/review I ever did and was a very big deal. At the time, I had no idea he even knew it was taking place. I was leaving the review field and walking back towards the campus. I saw a lone figure standing under a tree watching us all leave from a far in that small spot in the shade. As we got closer the figure waved and I realized it was him, Slug, my grandfather. It was a little shocking yet a welcome surprise. He hadn’t joined my mother in the bleachers or even gone with the other spectators, he had watched it all from that spot.

I left the group I was with and walked up to him, we only shared a few words. He shook my hand and as I walked back towards the others, I would turn and look back every few steps. He was still there, standing under that tree.

Maybe a year later, after it went up on the wall so long ago now, another girl from Maine came over and saw the print on my wall. She looked at me and told me that this girl had committed suicide. This stuck with me and bothered me for years, I looked at the images differently and never took it off my wall, seeing it almost everyday.

I tried to fact check it a couple months ago, it always really bothered me. I checked around and the girl I still know from Maine checked around. We had the wrong information. Rumor has it the girl in my photograph above is actually alive and well and somewhere in NYC.

I haven’t taken the photograph down.

I don’t remember how I heard or the right order of things, but here’s the story as I remember it: The guy I knew was suppose to work one day but for whatever reason he couldn’t work a particular shift and switched. On the shift he was suppose to work, this McDonald’s was robbed. Someone came in at closing, locked the doors, tied up two employees and shot them while they were tied up and bound in the back somewhere.

I remember how different he seemed after it happened, he should have been working that night. The last time I saw him was walking home from the bus stop dressed in a shirt and tie, we talked in his driveway awhile as he just kind of stared at the grass, he had just come from a funeral.

Every time I go to West Chester I try to eat here or at least get a shake or something at the drive through, I am not really sure why, it just feels like something I should do.

– – –

I didn’t want to win, I didn’t want to lose. I just wanted to be there. Victory and defeat never occurred to me to be applicable or possible. I gave two high five this day as you can see above and below. One of these touches went on to win the show with over $70,000 after touching my hand.

I touched your hand once too, you also won.
Congratulations.

Jonathan Touches Peter | The Price Is Right | September 22, 2009

MAIN Event – 300 Targets over four days on four courses. I started each day on station #3 to work my way around each course in rotation, day by day. I also competed in three other events for a total of 600 registered targets in 4 days with another 725 targets in practice for a total of 1325 targets in 5 days.

So when I got home and looked at my images from the nearly burned but not, I set them on fire electronically with tools and techniques of hate in an effort to destroy that beauty that I had seen.

5:21:14 PM – 5:24:10 PM | 2 minutes, 56 seconds

Los Angeles | The End of Summer | September 23, 2009

I asked her for a few seconds of her time and thankfully she agreed.

A friend of a friend asked me to do this for them (her) on the promise of a plane ride, a car ride and a bed. I accepted. It was the 10th wedding I have photographed in 20 years and only the second in which I accepted anything in return – rides, beds and maybe a meal. Everything else… that’s always on me.

In the one day, three hours, fifty-nine minutes and twenty-seven seconds I stared at them, (her), I made 2,228 photographs for an average of one photograph every 45 seconds.

When the portrait session was over, I made an image of her over my shoulder with my face in the frame. The only people left in the room were the bride, the groom and the best man. When the best man saw me do this he took my camera from me and pushed me into the above portrait. He said something like, “C’mon, you know you want a portrait of yourself with the bride.”

He knows me well. I did… and I never would of asked.

CR | The Book
$20 + $5 USA shipping

A book of this portfolio is now available for order.

He stood between this tree and those buildings in the City of the Violet Crown.

In Kentucky in 1994 on the way to yet another wedding, I jumped and jumped and jumped into the sky over and over again into a pool we all paid $0.25 each to swim in. Someone I was there with photographed me there against that sky.

Maybe a year later, I remember visiting him with his girl. It was late and I was about to leave their room to sleep. He looked over at his girl and asked, “Should I give it to him now?” She replied simply, “Yes.” He pulled this painting out of the closet and handed it to me.

That day in Kentucky, out in the sun and up in that sky, I got the worst sunburn of my life. The color of my back far surpassed the red of any hot hot bright bright red red sun.

Now I have no idea how to even bowl correctly nor do I want it. I went some growing up and enjoyed it enough during my brief 3 years in Texas close to family in the 80’s. Then it faded.

In college, (fall 1994, same time as the Promise Lane story and then again in summer 1997 after leaving and returning), when the color print processor was having troubles, I hit the alley. I went in the morning before the leagues and then later the same day after. So much so the owner/operator just shook his head at me and started comping me shoes and games. I would be put on one end of the alley and just left alone, throwing the ball, throwing the ball and throwing the ball.

When traveling on assignment bowling is a great way to kill the time in between not otherwise filled with details. One can always find an alley if one looks. I have been to 43 of the lower 48 states. I have bowled in at least 25-30.

In 1999, after a real deep love had left just days prior and I dropped communication with many of my friends, I was in West Virginia on an assignment for a major news magazine on one of the most emotional subjects I ever had the privilege to witness. I had just left the home and had 3 hours before I needed to get to the airport to go to the next heart wrenching home in Indiana. I was driving over a bridge when I saw a sign right next to the bridge that simply said BOWL and had an arrow pointing straight down. I found the alley, almost under the bridge I had just been on and went in. I was alone in the place except for 3 people on the lane 2 lanes over. Two older women and one old man, the kind of old man you know is smarter then you and hope to be someday. They were all laughing and having a nice time. I started bowling. Throwing the ball, throwing the ball and throwing the ball. I noticed I was around 100 by the 5th frame and that they had stopped bowling. When I looked over, the old man was looking at me, “You alright son?” he asked. I smiled, said “Yes” and looked at my feet, I felt awful I ruined their bowling moment. I got to frame 10 and left.

A year later I accepted an invitation to go bowling here in NYC. I had a broken foot and was on crutches, the people who invited me didn’t know this until I showed up. I still bowled.

A year after that on September 10, 2001, I was out till about 3am, bowling. I slept through most of the events that morning of the 11th until I heard my answering machine playing out loud a friends voice of long ago asking me through her tears, “Are you okay, are you okay?”

I remember standing in a Banana Republic® and getting really stressed out over a shirt, it was so silly but nonetheless, there I was.

So I got linen pants and nice new simple black T. Done.

So, not only was I shot by the white house photographer, about 10 film crews from the news channels shot the photo shoot as it was the only time the senator was in public that day. So I think it went on TV, not sure.

Then, back in NYC that night, I got to be in the art directors office during layout for my cover. It was almost midnight and I had changed into nicer black designer jeans and a button down by a fancy designer. It was one of the biggest moments of my career watching like a fly on the wall, really really really great in fact.

As I stood there, staring at what was to be my cover of TIME surrounded by all the big decision makers, the DOP standing next to me was looking through the contact sheets of the white house photographer that shot my shoot.

The DOP looked at me, looked me over, head to toe, and said, “You changed clothes.”

No judgments or comments, just those three words, I had no idea what the DOP had meant.

Later that night, almost 1am or so, the PE called to tell me they switched it, I didn’t get my cover because the senator – not an exact quote but close – “Wasn’t recognizable enough as a person, readers wouldn’t know the face” – they put the president on the cover as they needed a sales boost that week.

I think if I had worn a suit, I would of gotten my cover?

I made two images that day. A large lit formal portrait that was to be the cover and some tight fast close ups in the less then 5 minutes I had total. The lit image wasn’t used and the close up was used double page in TIME.

The close up used was the first image I made. In fact, it had been the clip test (remember those? Lights + E-6 + Hasselblad + 5 minute shoot + 1 Polaroid = bad ass). Well, after having the clip in my pocket, waiting for the balance to be rushed for 2 hours, I realized that was the best shot. I pulled I it out of my pocket, dusted it off, threw it into the selects and then there it was, 2 pages in TIME.

Or… Wear Dri-FIT as to not sweat in your eyes in your 5 minutes in a hot conference room to photograph the richest man in the world. (Just be sure you recently bleached your hair to match a girls).

Camera set to Auto. Software set to Auto.

On The Hot Blue Texas Wind I Flew

There was a hot hot blue blue wind blowing on me when I was just in Texas yesterday. There was also an emergency and the oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling. I was told to take a hold and breathe deeply and ignore the bag not inflating but instead for the first time in my life, amidst all my panic, I mistakenly pulled the emergency handle and jumped out a passage that I now believe or hope may not have really been there.

I waited 8 days for you to arrive here.

Watch me wait, twice a day, for the next 8 days.

Congratulations. Your entry ‘#1RN | Self Portrait’ has advanced through the second round and is now in the third and final round of the jurying process. Your entry is now an official Honorable Mention of the 2009 International Photography Awards.

In addition, your entry is now competing for a 1st, 2nd or 3rd place title. All winners will be announced on Tuesday, August 18th.

Congratulations again. Stay Tuned and thank you for participating in the 2009 International Photography Awards.

Sincerely,

International Photography Awards

Congratulations. Your entry ‘CJ | 1’ has advanced through the second round and is now in the third and final round of the jurying process. Your entry is now an official Honorable Mention of the 2009 International Photography Awards.

In addition, your entry is now competing for a 1st, 2nd or 3rd place title. All winners will be announced on Tuesday, August 18th.

Congratulations again. Stay Tuned and thank you for participating in the 2009 International Photography Awards.

Sincerely,

International Photography Awards

download a low res PDF | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Someone made me this after seeing my image yesterday for the first time, he had not seen the third story I ever put here and has never met the subject in my photograph.

I was about to leave in frustration with myself over many different reasons when someone from college I hadn’t seen since saw me and said hello. He was making images too and when I imagined the kind of images he was making, I suppose it bothered me enough to just start making my own.

I shot 19 rolls of film in less then an hour and only stopped as I had run out of film. Konica 640 Tungsten chrome film shot in daylight unfiltered that expired years before I got it mailed to me out of Neil Selkirk’s trash. It sat unprocessed a few years after I used it too.

No one spoke to me and I didn’t speak to anyone. Well, there was one person I remember speaking to me. She had emerald green eyes, soft blond hair pulled straight back, porcelain white skin and a chest that was exploding out of her corset, her emerald green corset that matched her eyes in sparkle and was tight… yes, that tight.

I cannot remember what she said to me, but I know she said it soft and while smiling. She was everything I wanted in this moment… I looked down at my camera away from her happy gaze, turned around and without saying a word to her, walked back off into the crowd.

SATURDAY JULY ELEVENTH TWO THOUSAND NINE

I immediately decided I would not join.

Then I got an email for a Fun Shoot open to the public this one day for $60.

I immediately decided I would go.

This was the 31st club I have visited for sporting clays.