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I've been meaning to take this photo for almost four months, ever since I noticed these plants outside my lab building.
I've been meaning to take this photo for almost four months, ever since I noticed these plants outside my lab building.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Seasonal Disaffection Disorder
I named this blog "It's Too Sunny Out Here" for a reason, even though it's an odd choice for a photographer.
All my life I lived in a state that had very distinct seasons. Four of them. Until I moved out here 4 years ago.
Most of the time I'm grateful for the nice weather, the knowledge that 95% of the time it won't rain. It suits my laziness to not have to check the weather report before leaving the house in the morning.
But then football season rolls around, and I absolutely hate it.
I went to Penn State for undergrad, where the entire fall semester basically revolves around football. My high school was big on football, but I never really got into it until college. Sophomore year, to be exact, as I didn't have football tickets freshman year.
Football season to me means crisp weather. Bundling up for the games, grasping a huge mug of hot chocolate in your hands while huddling with your friends to keep warm during the later season games. Even the early season games (where you play teams like Coastal Carolina and Temple) have a certain autumnal quality to them. It might not be the temperature, but there's a characteristic hue to the light later in the day. A certain feeling that summer is on its deathbed. Which is fine, because fall is the best season of them all.
But every year I've lived out here, I've been pretty oblivious to the start of football season. And pretty non-involved even when I realize it's started. It kills me, and I blame it entirely on the weather here.
Penn State won today, 66-10, and I couldn't have been less interested in the game. I didn't even know it was happening until late in the fourth quarter.
I feel like I've been in a time warp the entire time I've been in San Diego. Well, not a time warp per say, more of a time standstill. It's been endless summer since 2004. Not entirely a bad thing, but it gets pretty scary when you realize that yet another year has gone past and it feels like what? A month? Maybe two? And then comes that whole "what-am-I-doing-with-my-life" crisis.
It happens every year at this time. It's how I know I'll never spend the rest of my life in this city. I like apple cider and sweaters and using the chill in the room as an excuse to stay in bed a bit longer in the mornings too much to give them up completely.
All my life I lived in a state that had very distinct seasons. Four of them. Until I moved out here 4 years ago.
Most of the time I'm grateful for the nice weather, the knowledge that 95% of the time it won't rain. It suits my laziness to not have to check the weather report before leaving the house in the morning.
But then football season rolls around, and I absolutely hate it.
I went to Penn State for undergrad, where the entire fall semester basically revolves around football. My high school was big on football, but I never really got into it until college. Sophomore year, to be exact, as I didn't have football tickets freshman year.
Football season to me means crisp weather. Bundling up for the games, grasping a huge mug of hot chocolate in your hands while huddling with your friends to keep warm during the later season games. Even the early season games (where you play teams like Coastal Carolina and Temple) have a certain autumnal quality to them. It might not be the temperature, but there's a characteristic hue to the light later in the day. A certain feeling that summer is on its deathbed. Which is fine, because fall is the best season of them all.
But every year I've lived out here, I've been pretty oblivious to the start of football season. And pretty non-involved even when I realize it's started. It kills me, and I blame it entirely on the weather here.
Penn State won today, 66-10, and I couldn't have been less interested in the game. I didn't even know it was happening until late in the fourth quarter.
I feel like I've been in a time warp the entire time I've been in San Diego. Well, not a time warp per say, more of a time standstill. It's been endless summer since 2004. Not entirely a bad thing, but it gets pretty scary when you realize that yet another year has gone past and it feels like what? A month? Maybe two? And then comes that whole "what-am-I-doing-with-my-life" crisis.
It happens every year at this time. It's how I know I'll never spend the rest of my life in this city. I like apple cider and sweaters and using the chill in the room as an excuse to stay in bed a bit longer in the mornings too much to give them up completely.
366 Days, 366 Photos: 08/29/2008
We could also talk about how I'm kind of a force of nature when I want something. This works well with things like jobs (see: Pitchfork gig). But people? Not so much. I should probably have learned that by now, but I'm also terribly stubborn.
366 Days, 366 Photos: 08/28/2008
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Halloween already? Jesus.
Let's talk about how in college I dated a guy who ordered a gross of bouncy balls from this catalog. And about how that's maybe 75% of the reason I loved him. Have you ever been at a party where someone drops 100+ bouncy balls from the top of a spiral staircase? Yeah. Damn fun times.
Those types of people are hard to find.
Halloween already? Jesus.
Let's talk about how in college I dated a guy who ordered a gross of bouncy balls from this catalog. And about how that's maybe 75% of the reason I loved him. Have you ever been at a party where someone drops 100+ bouncy balls from the top of a spiral staircase? Yeah. Damn fun times.
Those types of people are hard to find.
366 Days, 366 Photos: 08/25/2008
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I was a little burnt out with photos at this point. I can't play guitar worth shit, but the case makes a good place for stickers.
I was a little burnt out with photos at this point. I can't play guitar worth shit, but the case makes a good place for stickers.
366 Days, 366 Photos: 08/24/2008
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This is Spreckles Lake, I think, in Golden Gate Park. Taken as I was leaving Outside Lands during Jack Johnson's set. It was pretty.
This is Spreckles Lake, I think, in Golden Gate Park. Taken as I was leaving Outside Lands during Jack Johnson's set. It was pretty.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Giving shit where shit is due
In the car on the way home from work. P likes to find the 0.01% of my iPod that is devoted to hip-hop and annoy me with it. He picked Jay-Z's The Black Album. "99 Problems" comes on.
P: "This is my theme song."
Me: "Son, you got 99 problems and a bitch is every single one."
P: "You're right. It's actually the antithesis of my theme song."
P: "This is my theme song."
Me: "Son, you got 99 problems and a bitch is every single one."
P: "You're right. It's actually the antithesis of my theme song."
Outside Lands, Day Three - 08/24/2008
Photos: Outside Lands Day Three
Being the little overachiever that I am, I got to Outside Lands early enough on Sunday to catch Nicole Atkins and the Sea. I had heard their name being tossed around on the internets, so I figured it was a good time to check them out. I liked what I heard, and I especially loved the guitarist who was pulling rock star moves at 1:30PM on a Sunday afternoon.
This was the first day that the sun was actually out, instead of the overbearing clouds, so I had some nice blue sky backgrounds in my photos.
Being the little overachiever that I am, I got to Outside Lands early enough on Sunday to catch Nicole Atkins and the Sea. I had heard their name being tossed around on the internets, so I figured it was a good time to check them out. I liked what I heard, and I especially loved the guitarist who was pulling rock star moves at 1:30PM on a Sunday afternoon.
This was the first day that the sun was actually out, instead of the overbearing clouds, so I had some nice blue sky backgrounds in my photos.
After that, it was a trek over to the Twin Peaks stage to see Stars, who were just as good as they were at Coachella. Their fan base was still adorable and fervent as well.
Next up was Bon Iver. It really pained me that Andrew Bird's set started 15 minutes after his did, because in a perfect world, I would have been able to see the entirety of both sets. Alas, it was not so. But Justin Vernon was kind enough to launch into "Skinny Love" as the third song of his set, and I think I got some weird looks in the pit as I was belting out the words while shooting. I'm a weird one sometimes.
But they all sounded perfect, and it was great when someone in the sizeable crowd yelled out, "I came here for you!" As I was booking it towards Andrew Bird's stage, I heard Justin teaching the crowd how to do the sing-along part of "Wolves (Act I and II)." Bummed that I missed it, but I've always got this, I suppose.
Then it was Andrew Bird. That man just looks so...suave...in his suit, with his violin and his whistling and his crazy sound looping. Breaks my heart that I couldn't see his entire set. He absolutely blew me away when I saw him at the Hollywood Bowl last year.
And then I ran to get to the Drive-by Truckers' set. Figures that the day involving the most running was also the warmest. The chick bassist was totally rocking out and it cracked me up.
After this, it was time for some church with Ms. Sharon Jones on the main stage. Their set at Coachella was amazing, so I knew to be prepared for some dancing all over the stage. It was kind of odd though - since the Dap-Kings played for a few songs before Sharon Jones even came out onstage (ala James Brown), the photographers got to chill in the pit for 5 or 6 songs, instead of the normal 3. Security didn't really know what to do with us, so we just hung out. And it was worth it.
I kind of want that dress.
Broken Social Scene was up next on the opposite main stage, and I was excited to see their set. Especially after hearing how they were the best live act at the Pitchfork Music Festival last year.
I ended up taking a bunch of photos, because there are approximately 8 million band members, and they were all constantly switching instruments. And other than Doveman, I have no idea which one was which.
It doesn't matter though, as I was fully absorbed in their sound. Much better live than on record. Just a cacaphony of awesomeness. And as if 8 million members weren't enough, they were joined by members of Stars and Land of Talk.
I stayed until the last second possible before heading back to the other main stage to catch Rodrigo y Gabriela. And well, compared to the visual smorgasboard of Broken Social Scene, there wasn't much I could do with a guy and a girl and two guitars. I think I was only in that pit for a song and a half.
I ended up taking a bunch of photos, because there are approximately 8 million band members, and they were all constantly switching instruments. And other than Doveman, I have no idea which one was which.
It doesn't matter though, as I was fully absorbed in their sound. Much better live than on record. Just a cacaphony of awesomeness. And as if 8 million members weren't enough, they were joined by members of Stars and Land of Talk.
I stayed until the last second possible before heading back to the other main stage to catch Rodrigo y Gabriela. And well, compared to the visual smorgasboard of Broken Social Scene, there wasn't much I could do with a guy and a girl and two guitars. I think I was only in that pit for a song and a half.
Again, I ask, are you still with me? I shot Rogue Wave really quickly on my way back to the Twin Peaks stage. Being local, they had a pretty large audience, which was nice to see. I missed "Chicago x 12" though, which was a bit of a bummer.
And then it was time for Wilco. Apparently as Broken Social Scene were leaving the stage, they remarked that "the greatest American band was up next." In fact, after shooting the set, I saw several members of BSS in the VIP area watching the show. Again, nice to see musicians geeking out on each other.
And Wilco was Wilco. Which is to say, they were great. A nice way to end my "official" photography duties at the festival.
Except that by the end of their first 3 songs, my bladder was about to explode. To be truthful, it had been close to exploding for the last hour (I hadn't had time to relieve myself since arriving at the festival several hours before). So when I saw Rogue Wave's manager heading backstage, I grabbed him and asked if he could escort me to the backstage port-a-potty. His response was, "Just follow me and walk confidently." It's funny how well that works at these things - especially when you're holding a camera with a large lens. End of story - I got backstage for 10 minutes to pee, then returned to VIP to watch most of the rest of their set.
Which made me a little bit late to get into the pit for Jack Johnson. I was only really interested in taking photos of him for my friend Krystal, because I knew that Pitchfork probably wouldn't run them. But all the other photographers had already been escorted into the pit by the time I got there. The security guard told me he couldn't escort me himself, and I replied, "What if I just run really fast?" Que the cute face, add a bit of a shoulder shrug and a tilt of my head to the right. He glanced around for someone else to escort me, and then sighed and said, "Just go."
And that's how I was officially the last photographer in the pit for Jack Johnson. Phew.
Which made me a little bit late to get into the pit for Jack Johnson. I was only really interested in taking photos of him for my friend Krystal, because I knew that Pitchfork probably wouldn't run them. But all the other photographers had already been escorted into the pit by the time I got there. The security guard told me he couldn't escort me himself, and I replied, "What if I just run really fast?" Que the cute face, add a bit of a shoulder shrug and a tilt of my head to the right. He glanced around for someone else to escort me, and then sighed and said, "Just go."
And that's how I was officially the last photographer in the pit for Jack Johnson. Phew.
He was lighthearted and fun. And dropped his guitar while trying to blow a little green spider off his microphone. Too funny.
And, when I was done with everything, I grabbed my first beer of the festival and sat on the grass for awhile and just listened. Not a bad way to end things. Not bad at all.
366 Days, 366 Photos: 08/23/2008
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I think this is the third time I've posted this photo on this blog, but I really like it. I think it's the spotlights in the background.
I think this is the third time I've posted this photo on this blog, but I really like it. I think it's the spotlights in the background.
Outside Lands, Day Two - 08/23/2008
Photos: Outside Lands Day Two
Is it bad that I have to look at the photos I took on day two of Outside Lands to even remember who I saw?
Also, is it bad that my pants were noticeably looser when I wore them after washing them Monday night? I call it the "Music Festival Photographer Crash Diet." Basically, run around from stage to stage for three days straight, fueled by adrenaline and anxiety and the rare slice of pizza or foot-long hot dog. By that I mean that my food consumption at the festival was limited to one slice of pizza on Saturday and a hot dog on Sunday. Yeah you read that right.
The first act I shot on Saturday was The Coup. I love me some Boots Riley, even if hip-hop usually is not my thing. I shot two songs and then regrettably had to run over to the Sutro stage for Devandra Banhart.
Is it bad that I have to look at the photos I took on day two of Outside Lands to even remember who I saw?
Also, is it bad that my pants were noticeably looser when I wore them after washing them Monday night? I call it the "Music Festival Photographer Crash Diet." Basically, run around from stage to stage for three days straight, fueled by adrenaline and anxiety and the rare slice of pizza or foot-long hot dog. By that I mean that my food consumption at the festival was limited to one slice of pizza on Saturday and a hot dog on Sunday. Yeah you read that right.
The first act I shot on Saturday was The Coup. I love me some Boots Riley, even if hip-hop usually is not my thing. I shot two songs and then regrettably had to run over to the Sutro stage for Devandra Banhart.
At the Sutro stage, it was a repeat of the day before with the jumping through the railing of the handicapped seating area to get up to the photo pit. Sometimes it seems like they really try to make press acess harder than it has to be.
It was cute to hear Devandra say "As soon as we finish up our set, we're all going to run over to catch as much of the Liars' set as we can." It's always nice to see musicians geeking out over other bands.
Also weird was seeing the Liars play on the smallest stage of the festival, when four days later they were playing Cricket Wireless as the opener for Radiohead.
Also weird was seeing the Liars play on the smallest stage of the festival, when four days later they were playing Cricket Wireless as the opener for Radiohead.
Pitchfork wanted me to get shots of Lupe Fiasco, but they also wanted shots of M. Ward. Given the distances (and hassles getting to the photo pits) of their two respective stages, I bailed on Lupe. Which turned out to be a poor choice, given that M. Ward wasn't allowing any photographers in the pit for his set. Information that MIGHT have been useful ahead of time, but oh well. I just shot from the crowd and got what I could. He sounded beautiful and perfect for a Saturday afternoon.
Afterwards, I ran into Dooce and Blurb, chatted for a bit, and then went to grab my one slice of pizza. I listened to the rest of M. Ward's set while sitting on the grass, nursing a Pepsi (hadn't had time to get an ID wristband at that point).
Fortunately, I didn't have to run to another stage for my next act, as Regina Spector was up on the Sutro stage right after M. Ward. She was just adorable, talking about how all the small kids wearing the huge noise-dampening headphones were "sickeningly cute." She sang her first song a capella, tapping the microphone for a beat. Which was gracious considering that after she sat down at her piano, there were maybe two decent sightlines for the photographers. Great monitor placement, but what can you do?
Fortunately, I didn't have to run to another stage for my next act, as Regina Spector was up on the Sutro stage right after M. Ward. She was just adorable, talking about how all the small kids wearing the huge noise-dampening headphones were "sickeningly cute." She sang her first song a capella, tapping the microphone for a beat. Which was gracious considering that after she sat down at her piano, there were maybe two decent sightlines for the photographers. Great monitor placement, but what can you do?
Afterwards, instead of wading through the crowd, the nice security guard I had befriended let us leave via backstage, so it was up some rickety wooden steps back to the entrance gate to the festival. Did I mention this thing was laid out terribly?
I trekked over to the small stage that The Walkmen were playing and prepared myself to be absolutely blown away, which is what happened the last two times I saw them. Have I mentioned before that I have a thing for tall, lanky dudes? Even ones who can't belt out lyrics with such passion that it looks like the veins in their neck are going to explode? Yeah, I might have a slight crush on their singer. Needless to say, they did not disappoint me.
I trekked over to the small stage that The Walkmen were playing and prepared myself to be absolutely blown away, which is what happened the last two times I saw them. Have I mentioned before that I have a thing for tall, lanky dudes? Even ones who can't belt out lyrics with such passion that it looks like the veins in their neck are going to explode? Yeah, I might have a slight crush on their singer. Needless to say, they did not disappoint me.
Still with me? Almost done. I shot Matt Nathanson as a favor for their manager (so that I could shoot the entire set for Rogue Wave tomorrow), and unfortunately, Pitchfork didn't run the photos. But I thoroughly enjoyed his set, as he was telling ridiculous jokes in between songs, and even covered a bit of Jessie's Girl. Not a bad way to hit the homestretch.
And then. Tom Petty. I heard by word-of-mouth from another photographer that their was a separate list of approved photographers for him earlier that day, but had been entirely unable to track down his pulicist. Until 10 minutes before his set. Talk about anxiety. But I got cleared last minute, got my special sticker, and was in the pit in time.
And good god, that man is a rock star. Totally hamming it up for the photographers, even bowing at the end of the first three songs. That might have been the first thing all weekend that went in favor of the media. Well, the 30 or so photographers that were let in the pit, at least.
The lighting was great, and I shot full manual again, since the light wasn't as crazy as Radiohead. Basically I was at f2.8, 1/400th at ISO 1600, and changed the shutter speed as needed (and by guessing) whenever the light changed.
Afterwards, I hung out long enough to hear "Free Fallin'" and "Last Dance with Mary Jane," but then I was out of there. Too beat to even go out and grab a drink, especially with the knowledge that the next day was going to be even busier...
And good god, that man is a rock star. Totally hamming it up for the photographers, even bowing at the end of the first three songs. That might have been the first thing all weekend that went in favor of the media. Well, the 30 or so photographers that were let in the pit, at least.
The lighting was great, and I shot full manual again, since the light wasn't as crazy as Radiohead. Basically I was at f2.8, 1/400th at ISO 1600, and changed the shutter speed as needed (and by guessing) whenever the light changed.
Afterwards, I hung out long enough to hear "Free Fallin'" and "Last Dance with Mary Jane," but then I was out of there. Too beat to even go out and grab a drink, especially with the knowledge that the next day was going to be even busier...
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