"I like the shadows in this one," etc...

Been perusing my high school and college artworks (I use this term loosely), and... well...

Funny how the stuff I put the most effort into and processed the shit out of now make me nauseous, while many pieces that I completely overlooked or discarded now give me hope for poor high school Daniel.

I think I've come to understand that this is to be expected and I will constantly be looking back at old work and fighting the urge to kill it with fire and spears. I don't know quite how long the embarrassment window is, but I sorely miss the journals and doodles of my youth (particularly one schematic of a dormant volcano/airplane hangar complete with lava tube runways).

At any rate, here's some originally overlooked stuff I'm not entirely ashamed of:
(I resisted the urge to do some photoshop tweaking on less-than-stellar images)

Love me some squares.

Cliche verre photogram technique. Paint on glass exposed onto photo paper.
Should've experimented more with it.

Holga print with custom-made negative holder.

Holga print with custom-made negative holder.
Kinda digging the simplicity in this one.

From my ever-so-brief foray into printmaking. Linoleum cut print.
I don't even know what I made this for.

Crossroads 2011 is not a real thing. I think.
Working on layers/masking in photoshop maybe?

This image caused me a lot of strife.
"Oh, Daniel, this is so morbid."
"Oh, Daniel, is this one about death too?"
"Oh, Daniel, I see that death motif coming up again."
I just liked the textures. Jeez.

Entered this one for a logo contest. Didn't win.
Maybe they should get a better URL.

Probably should've majored in Trespassing. 

Turns out I'm kind of a one-trick pony with the whole "abandoned stuff" theme.
Not even a very original trick to begin with. Rip Van Winkle's Plymouth.

A day with Turnip Claus

The farm team went on a field trip last week to Bob Due's Terraced Gardens Farm in New Tazewell. Despite the steady drizzle all day, we got a great tour of his farm and crammed as much of his knowledge into our young heads as possible.

Bob showing off his power harrow that he uses to prepare his terraces for planting. He custom built the T-shaped handle attachment as a way to move his many tractor accessories. In the background you can see the structure that functions as his primary living quarters. Built it himself, of course.

Bob uses metal conduit hoops to support his row covers. He built a custom pipe-bender to shape the conduit himself.

Because most of his property is on rolling hillsides, he had to devise a terracing system to prevent erosion and make the land workable and sustainable.

Bob uses breathable fabric called Agribon as row covers to protect his plants in cold weather. This is a variety of miniature cabbage that should be available at the Market Square Farmer's Market, come May.

While most gardeners abhor weeds and struggle to keep them out of their beds, Bob doesn't mind letting shallow-rooted weeds create a layer of living mulch over some of his crops. Bok choy in the foreground, carrots in the background.

Bob is famous at the Farmer's Market for his turnips (last year's farm team dubbed him "Turnip Claus"), and this is a turnip that he let grow to the size of a bowling ball before chopping it open with an ax for us to see. Didn't look very tasty.

Bob is 69, and as spry as any 20-year-old; bounding up hills, lugging haybales around the farm, and living sustainably on his own at the farm. Pretty damn inspiring. Go visit his stand next time you're at the Farmer's Market, and treat yourself to some of his delicious produce. You won't regret it.

don't do it yourself (sometimes)

In a culture that's increasingly dominated by a Do-It-Yourself spirit (which I am not condemning in any way), I think it's important to sit back sometimes and give the admiration that is due to master craftsmen, who make the decision to devote their lives to becoming a true expert in their field. If you're like me, then you struggle with wanting to be a jack-of-all-trades (and consequently a master of none), so I have a deep respect for these master craftsmen and women who sacrifice basic aptitude in myriad fields for true excellence in one.

Another burden falls on those who try to portray this level of excellence for the rest of us to appreciate. It takes another kind of master to capture and condense a lifetime (or many lifetimes) of experience and skill into a series of photos or a short video. I want to share a couple videos and photos that have overcome this obstacle and give us a glimpse of the life and work of master craftsmen.

The making of a classic Globe-Trotter suitcase:



The American Craftsman Project: This is a breathtaking series of photographs documenting a variety of American craftsmen.
http://americancraftsmanproject.com/

The making of an Alfred Dunhill Tradition Case:



Rick Hearne, a fine hardwoods dealer, talks about showing off the beauty of rare wood.
http://woodtreks.com/rick-hearne-never-tires-of-hidden-beauty-in-rare-logs/231/
The WoodTreks site features a huge selection of great videos on all things woodworking.

native son

The land of my youth, my "home" (or as close to one as I can put my finger on), is on the brink of political upheaval. Not revolution, I think the Senegalese people are too sensible for that, but you can only withstand injustice for so long before even the most sensible of us snaps and starts throwing rocks.

I see all my peers posting their prayers for Senegal, I hear the updates of, "Demonstrations downtown. Our neighborhood is quiet, for now," and I don't know how to respond. How I'm supposed to feel.

Certainly I'm concerned for the well-being of family and friends, and the well-being of the Senegalese people on principle, but for some reason their plight finds no emotional purchase in my conscience. Is it because I've been desensitized by images of bloodied corpses in Benghazi, or sobering death tolls in Cairo and Damascus?

But even still, this is my homeland; why don't the reports of tear gas and dead protesters still up anything more than mild concern? Today I found myself idly browsing flight times and prices to Dakar, and brushing up on photojournalist protocol.

But that's not gonna happen.

I think.