cotton pickin'

Before I grow old and die I have one thing I really want to see happen as it pertains to my photos:  I want to have a gallery show featuring all the images I've taken of Louisiana.  If you know me at all then you know that I've been hunting for a publisher of a book I've been working on for the past seven or eight years based solely on my growing up in Livingston Parish.  Yeah, I'm sure I've mentioned it a time or two here.  The images I've captured over the years of that region also have their share of "outtakes" on the roll of film that accompany the ones set aside specifically for Livingston, these are just random shots of the state that I've taken over the years.  In fact, the Livingston project began with a much broader theme in mind-the entire state of Louisiana herself-and so in the beginning I was stopping on the side of the road all the time.  Early on I realized that it was much to massive of a project to get done in any sort of timely (I'm using the word rather loosely) manner and that if I ever intended on actually finishing a project I should narrow my scope.  Which I did, focusing on just one parish.  As an afterthought though the "big picture" of capturing the state at large isn't such a bad idea.  In fact, I'm still pretty sure it is one I intend on tackling.  The only difference is now I have the knowledge and the patience to understand that like a woman, it will take years to truly capture all the beauty and secrets and intrigue and history that the state embodies.  I'm okay with that now as I realize that I've still many years ahead of me and rest in the simple fact that getting out there and taking pictures five, ten, twenty, thirty years from now is still exciting. All of this is to introduce this photograph, what may be the beginning of truly lifelong ambition. 

gifts from home

I always hear these Christmas tales of woe: an uncle who once painted his niece a painting for Christmas and her response-the moral of the story-was one of selfish brattyness. She hated it because it wasn't what she asked for. It wasn't a Barbie-doll house or Susie-go-potty-a-lot. Again, the stories are meant to teach the value of time, care, and thoughtfulness that go into the art of gift-giving. This year I've taken the story to heart and am doing just that: making most everyone's gift. It's partly because people like my homemade gifts, partly because I enjoy making things (the creative process and all that), and partly because I usually make more than one for myself to keep. So I guess there goes that selfish bratty moral of the story edge to it, huh? Well oh well. Here's a work in progress, a snow globe with a junk-car...it's soooo Livingston Parish.

enter livingston parish

I picked up the last official roll of film that was devoted to the Livingston project today from the lab. As I held the negatives up to the light in the foyer anticipating what I'd seen, Steven, the guy I've been handing film to and picking film up from for years at Barron Photografix said, "You're the last of the medium format shooters." I laughed to myself thinking that I, oh me of so little, can't be the last. In fact I know I'm not the last by just flipping through a couple of photography magazines you will find another shooter or two still using film, but maybe rare is a more accurate statement. Many of the images are shot digitally, but after I got deep into the project and had a bit more of an idea of the direction I was headed, it was film all the way. Anyway, these two shots aren't my favorites, so who knows if they'll make into the book or not, but I thought they'd be a good send off image to commemorate the end of a personal project that took me so far into the woods, the eyes, and the beauty that south Louisiana is. Even though the image making process is over, I still look forward toward the next step, knowing the final chapter will only be closed after the book hits the shelves. Who knows then what other stories may be told after mine is done. I'd rather think of my story just as one of many others-like a puzzle piece fitting in with the rest of what makes the parish the place that it is, the people that live there, and the feeling of home.