March 27, 2013

Wood works

What is there to do when there is nothing left to do but to do the work one is supposed to do?
Ain't nothin to it, they say, but to do it.

I can run forever from the work lying around within out of fear and hesitation but the calling will always be one clip behind in matched strong-legged stride, yearning for attention.


Here is a list of things to finish and begin in no order--
- book binding
- trip to the printers
- mock up for fuckssake
- learning how to visualize instead of making blindly
- call Rachel
- editorial re: Emily
- backdrop re: source million dollar lightbulb
- make said backdrop

Just begin now dear woman.

Swollen moons looking up to the full bellied eye in the sky peering down to the place I sat smoking on the roof of my home--of all things, of all places--contemplating fear. Why run? Why hesitate? Finding the starting place is frustrating and scary but when your feet find the mark, there is no choice but to steady oneself and then give in like a bird to the sky.

This week introduced a few new starting places.

The future is now.

Sooner than later I will trade these soft hands in for rough ones. Visualizing the soft lines of the back belonging to a child not my own, along with his cheeks and featherneck fitting just right into the curves of my being, it is hard to imagine this blessed reality becoming but sweet memories smiled upon while running fingertips along fresh cuts of wood.

I look forward to the feeling of physical material in my hands and the comfortable rhythm that will come with patience and gentleness the more I watch, listen and apply the offered lessons to my own wood practice.

Never in all my years would I have guessed that life would carry me here, to a wood shop in the countryside to the open door of an offer that changed the direction of my path once more. Who knows- maybe the wood won't cut it either; then again maybe it will. Funny how life works. I have always felt my best at work in environments made for production. Naming it here makes the decision of pursuit undeniably real.

I am finally going to learn how to build.

Until then, there is an entirely new season to watch unfold. Come on buds, we believe in you. The Magnum is nearly ready to ride. Come on Spring, come on winds, come on warm rains, I believe in you.

Young thing. Autumn 2007/ France.

March 25, 2013


Leo shoots the Partycam at 15 months (kind of). Winnipeg/ Spring 2013
Photo. baby Seftel

Husqvarna diaries

A few weeks ago, Craig and I along with his pops took a trip to The Pas, Manitoba to visit family. Trappers Festival was happening in town and we heartily took in the pancake breakfast, the meatdraw at the legion and the dogsled race along the highway. Craig competed in the speedcutting chainsaw competition and I cheered like a lunatic in my snowmobile suit from the sideline. That's my guy! Then I climbed a giant snow mountain and shot a picture of a big kid at rest on the decline.

Winter is a wonderful time for photography. I am falling deeper and deeper in love with my Russian beast with every new roll that surfaces. I have a feeling that the film format is only up from here. While working in the darkroom on Saturday, my process was clotheslined by a black and white portrait of Craig's sister shot against a snowscape at the dogsled race. When I brought my failed result out to the shop where Craig was welding, he took one look and simply said, "snow is snow". Indeed. One must embrace grey tones in snowy situations. I am learning to embrace grey. The age old darkroom saying goes: expose for shadows develop for highlights. The more I print the more I am learning what the hell that simple statement means.

Saturdays have slowly become the day I duck into the dark red of the basement with a jar of tea in hand and Cat Power to start things off on the right note. What used to take one hour of hesitation and doubt to set up the chemistry now takes five minutes. Confidence builds with hours logged. These sacred darkroom sessions are quiet times alone with my thoughts spent working towards a project I have been carrying around for long enough. Time to birth. CBC's Saturday Afternoon at the Opera slides nicely into Deep Roots with host Tom Power.

Three good darkroom albums:

Cat Power- You Are Free
Bob Dylan- Modern Times
Sonic Youth- Sonic Nurse

Here are some scanned images off a roll of Fuji 100 slide film that I shot during our time in The Pas and then had sent away for processing. The wait was worth it, though the images below hardly do justice to the beauty of medium format slide film. I figure a look in is better than none at all. When Leo and I picked up the roll, my smile grew and grew the longer that strip was held to the sun. Sweet technical understanding, nice to meet you. Make yourself at home in my brain.

My favorite shot on the roll is the portrait of the man with the fox on his head. That little curled animal looked so at home on his brow. I asked for his portrait just as the dogs raced out of sight and this is what he gave. His eyes were such incredible pools I could barely look.

Thirteen exposures in a row, crisp and bright against the sun. While this digital variation may not amount to much, the images really sing once projected on the wall, right where they belong. 

March 16, 2013

Aging faces

These are our aging faces. Leo 14 mos. March 2013

March 13, 2013

Resurrection report

These images are scanned from a single roll of hand processed Ilford FP4 Plus shot over the course of a few months. I lent my ma the little Nikon FM coupled with a pancake 50mm and was pleased to see her captures from her time in the Arizona desert with my pops. Collaborative rolls are the best rolls spent.

After a few mute moons, I must say how nice it feels to test the mind's voice in this familiar place. Ever the internal battle to-post-or-not-to-post when it comes to the worldwide web, it feels good to put my work out there again. Feigned production? Most definitely. Sometimes a good internet dump is all a gal needs to lighten up. How supremely unladylike to say.

This small series is particle heavy but soft on the eyes with a great span of tones. This film is lovely. Scans do no favors. Time to step into the darkroom and work on proper hard copies.

This here is a taste.

My love for Workers in hi-vis is endless.  
Photo. Kim Kroeker
Gunnar with eyes on the prize.
Basil and Lisa in the spotlight at home.
Sleep / Work space complete with paper curtains.
I asked for his portrait on Maryland and this is what he gave. 
I like the looks of my dad with a camera. My mom shot this at the Grand Canyon. 

March 12, 2013

Mars long

Hibernation is behind me. Spring is near.

A friend's Bernese Mountain dog recently ate a whole gopher straight from it's burrow on Garbage Hill. From sleeping spot to dog belly, talk about a rude awakening. Does this signify an endless winter? That is what it feels like today.

Moped season is so close I can nearly taste exhaust.

Around these parts, the littlest Leo grows and so do I. 

Projects standstill, as does the river of peace within. What is next?

Here is a look in. Cameras lie around at ready. The images below were shot on oldie goldie slide film from the 90's. Graintown grit untouched as they come. I had them cross processed, a request placed when a color burst is necessary. Oddly enough, this roll came back rather muted considering the process. A fair reflection of the season thus far.