Occasionally, I have to reach into the archives and pull something out for this photo of the week project. This was taken a few weeks back when I was on my family’s organic orchard in Coachella CA. I wish I had time to shoot every week, alas, I do not, but I am also happy to get to show this image as otherwise it may never have seen the light of day.
After years of returning to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, I have had several opportunities to shoot images in El Charco del Ingenio Botanical Garden. This is truly one of my favorite places on the planet. A constantly changing environment, this place shifts and transforms dramatically with the seasons. This was the first time I have been there during the height of the dry season, when the presa reveals itself to be an exquisite cracked mud plane. It was such a strange sensation taking photos in places that, only a few months ago, were under several feet of water.
I arrived at sunset on a hot sunny day expecting to work into a warm and productive night. Unfortunately, weather in the desert is always unpredictable, and where I had been wearing summery sundresses all week, a bitter cold wind decided to blow in and really ruin our fun. My companion was truly impressed with my ability to strip down to a dress and get at least a few hours worth of work done. By the time we returned home we both needed long hot showers to thaw out and get our core temperatures back to normal.
Though the almost full moon and the beautiful location were truly perfect, the freezing temperatures really hindered my creativity. We left vowing to return the following night but I ended up getting really sick and just could not muster enough late night energy. Thankfully, the Charco is always there, ever changing but ready for future projects.
As always, click on the images for a larger view, and feel free to share or subscribe.
It has been about four months since I last made any new images. This winter, I have been living in the snowy Colorado Mountains and I find that when the weather is cold I have no interest in creating new work. Fortunately, this post finds me traveling through the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico. I arrived on the full moon, landing in Cancun and immediately taking a ferry out to Isla Mujeres. During the day I partook of the usual beach stuff, highlighted by a snorkeling trip to the Under Water Museum. This place is absolutely amazing and a lot bigger than I expected, there were sculptures all over the place, and a lot of surprising ones I had not seen in any photos of the project. My biggest regret is not being a diver, as the sculptures sit about thirty feet under the ocean surface and snorkeling just does not do the artwork justice. For more info on this incredible place, check out: http://www.musacancun.com/.
By night, I have been out under the full moon on the rocky seaside cliffs, evoking La Serena. Fitting, as I am on the Island of Women. The motivation for these images came while dancing to Cuban salsa, at La Terraza, a great local bar. I met three German sailors there who were living and working on The Stahlratte: www.stahlratte.org. This is huge steel sailboat run by a non-profit foundation, and by far the largest sailing vessel docked on the island. Anyone can sail with them as they circle the Caribbean, but it is a work/live situation not a cruse ship. From my tour of the boat and meeting the staff, I imagine this might be as close to feeling like a real pirate as one could find these days. With sailing on my mind, and hearing stories of vessels breaking up on the rocks surrounding the island, I was inspired to play the roll of the temptress on the cliffs.
In the first images, La Serena beams a light into the night, mimicking a lighthouse and falsely directing ships. Later, she sings out to the sailors, enchanting them and luring them to their demise. It felt so good to be shooting again, and to also have a little narrative in mind while I was working. I do feel a bit rusty, and I am test-driving my brand new Nikon D7000. So far so good but I kind of wish I had not left the manual at home. The images I am getting look gorgeous with this improved sensor, but I have to be careful these days, as my images files are three times larger and my computer’s hard drive is going fast. I have about ten more days in the Yucatan to shoot new work, cenotes and Mayan ruins here I come. As always click on the image to see a larger version.
Above the town of San Miguel de Allende, Mexico is the 160 acre nature preserve El Charco del Ingenio. Over the past few years this place has become one of my main centers for creativity and inspiration. I have had the privilege to shoot some of my best photographs in this space as well as work as an invited artist on an incredible land art project. For this project I built four large-scale altars, one to each of the four directions, incorporating different indigenous mythologies. When I returned to San Miguel this September, I knew I was going to have to do some new photography in the preserve. Although you are technically not allowed to be in the park after dark, if you go to watch the sunset and stay for a few hours they are generally tolerant. I always warn the guards that I will be there late just so we don’t scare the crap out of each other in the dark. Surprising men with big guns isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities.
The main beauty of the Charco is that there are a plethora of different ecosystems crammed into a small space. The area around San Miguel is a high altitude (7000ft), two-season (dry and rainy) climate. The plants are very hardy, and include massive prickly pear cactus trees, very spiny acacias, and lots of grasses. Water can be quite scarce at times. In the center of the park is a large dam created wetland that regularly hosts Autobahn bird watching tours and can flood or become a dry mud flat depending on the season. Below the dam there is a very steep rocky canyon with sheer hundred foot walls. On hot days you can climb down very sketchy ladders to the shady floor and sit on the boulders amongst cool pools of water. At the head of this canyon is a large natural spring or El Charco. This spring is said to be protected by a spirit, El Chan, that harms anyone who comes too close. There are many tales of drowning in the spring and apparently scuba divers have never found the bottom, just a maze of underwater tunnels. For some reason, depending on the season, the water changes colors and can range from white, red and orange to deep blues and greens.
Once again, my friend Nico came to assist and after watching the sunset from the cliffs over looking San Miguel, we got to work. The location I scouted was below the dam and above the spring where there are large pools of water and lots of boulders to climb on. Once we got started, a lovely bright half moon rose to illuminate the scene. We had such a beautiful experience that evening I’m not even sure I was really concentrating on the work. Behind us a small waterfall was trickling down, the air was warm and comfortable, the wind was calm, and to my absolute delight the fireflies decided to join us. To say this was a magical and memorable evening only saddens the great poets. At one point I think we almost decided to curl up on one of the big, flat, sun-warmed boulders to sleep under the stars. Honestly, I probably would have done just that if I weren’t half packed and leaving at eight in the morning.
What follows are the last images taken with my old Tamron 10-24 lens. After shooting probably 60,000 images with this lens, I am really starting to see the quality of the images degrading. I have heard that the cheap digital lenses eventually wear out, but this is the first one I have actually used to death. I am not unhappy with the intentions of this work, but I am not thrilled with the image quality. There were a lot of interesting shots in this group that just didn’t turn out well and I know it has much to do with my lens. So out with the old and in with the new, I am chomping at the bit to start using my new Nikon 10-24, yippie!
After the council of The 13 Grandmothers, my friend Terra Celeste and I went to Yellowstone National Park for the first full moon in August. Upon leaving Grandmother Margaret’s home, we were asked to take an offering to the Medicine Wheel in eastern Wyoming. This location is one of the oldest sacred spots in North America and may have been built over 10,000 years ago. Different indigenous tribes have been coming and doing sacred ceremonies there for so long, no one is exactly sure who built it in the first place. The meeting of the Grandmothers was a very intense experience, and it was really nice to complete the ceremony at the Medicine Wheel, with an offering of tobacco and prayers.
As we continued our journey, through the park to the town of West Yellowstone, we saw an owl, a pair of coyotes, and a buffalo, all wandering in the middle of the road. After arriving, we had quick dinner, checked into our hotel, and headed back into the park to see how geysers and thermal water look under a full moon. August in Yellowstone is high season, and you can expect throngs of tourists unless you head out in the middle of the night. With the exception of a few other photographers, we had the place to ourselves. If Yellowstone is a magical place by day, it is far more amazing by full moon. As we walked around the geysers, moist steam rolled off the thermal pools and punctuated the chilly air; intermittently enveloping us in shifting clouds of blinding, white, warmth.
Over the next two nights, we shot for several hours in the park and came up with some really nice new images. I would love to return to Yellowstone, as I feel like there is so much more we could have done. I love the color and texture in the park, from the vibrant blues of a full moon sky to the rainbow colors of the pools. Although, I think they do work in most of these shots, one of the hardest things about shooting in the park are the walkways. It was a real challenge to either incorporate them, or to hide them in the images. Regardless, I am very happy with what happened during this shoot. I think that a few of these photos really need to be viewed big, so please click on them to enlarge.
This summer I was invited by my friend Terra Celeste to attend the 11th council of the Thirteen Grandmothers. I had no idea what I was getting myself into by attending this gathering, and in a lot of ways the repercussions of this event may directly affect my life for the next several years. The thirteen grandmothers are indigenous women from different cultures around the world. They are on a mission to pray in their own individual and collective ceremonial ways in order to bring peace, and balance back to the universe. Although these women are often confined to walkers and wheelchairs, make no mistake; they are possibly the most powerful group of women I have ever encountered.
The Council was held on the Lame Deer Cheyenne reservation in eastern Montana. Cheyenne grandmother Margaret Behan hosted this gathering. Originally, three hundred participants were expected, but over the course of the four-day encampment, over seven hundred arrived from around the world. I, like many others, did not know what to expect but the importance of this council was quickly evident, especially in regard to the Cheyenne people.
Initially, the event was to be held at Grandmother Margaret’s house. After a forest fire came within a few hundred feet of her property only days before the opening, the gathering was moved to the local public powwow grounds, a move that proved to be quite fateful. Although, the grandmothers are on a peace mission, change often comes with great resistance. After only a short time on the reservation, I was given a crash course in tribal politics. Basically, it is tradition for the elder men to speak and hold council, and although women are generally free to express their opinions, they do not make important tribal decisions or hold councils of their own.
By bringing the grandmothers to the reservation, Margaret was going against thousands of years of tradition and was met with physical and psychological opposition. A group of militant young men came onto the powwow grounds before the event and threatened cause problems if the grandmothers did not cease and desist. This clearly shook up everyone involved and after a meeting between the grandmothers that lasted into the wee hours of the night, they decided to proceed. Thankfully they did, because this may have been one of the most important events held in recent Cheyenne history.
As the days progressed, the grandmothers prayed, and began telling their stores, both personal and historical. They told of war, oppression, massacre, marginalization, and the loss of land, food, water and children, they mourned the loss of old traditions and ways of living. Many white people also came forward with stores of their own, including the great grandniece of General Custer, who asked forgiveness for her family’s roll in oppressing and murdering the Cheyenne people. Slowly, the men started to come around, to hear the stories, and witness the healing the grandmothers were offering. By the end of the gathering, many of the tribal chiefs had don their feather headdresses and welcomed the grandmothers, thanking them for taking action and opening their eyes to the possibilities of a new future.
So much happened while I was at this event I cannot begin to summarize everything in this brief blog. Suffice to say, I saw a wild wolf, ran out into a lightning storm, witnessed a crowd react to a tiny ancient Nepali woman the way one would expect from a revival church, slept in a tipi, and made a promise I intend to keep. In our final meeting, Grandmother Margaret asked me to return to the reservation and hold a photography workshop for the local kids. I am just starting to work out the details of this agreement which involves a lot of research, grant writing, and planning, but hopefully by next summer I will be able to fulfill my commitment to Grandmother Margaret.
Concluding The Sacred Door Trail opening ceremony, a group of us headed to Weston Pew’s stunning family-ranch that nestles up against the Bridger mountain range just north of Bozeman, Montana. The week spent there was a much-needed decompression after the spiritual intensity of the previous few days. We spent our time resting, singing along with guitars on the porch, eating home cooked food and going on a bunch of outings. One of these outings was on the fourth of July and included rafting down the Yellowstone River, eating a picnic lunch, and singing and dancing the night away at the Bank Bar (a local cowboy watering hole), in Wilsall, Montana.
During this time there was a full moon and though I was pretty spent from camping, I found time to take a few photos. My previously mentioned partner in crime, Melanie Malia, helped me wander out into the moonlight to take some photos with the Pew’s lovely grey horse. Just as we were starting to get our rhythm, “Bill” the notorious beast of a dog, came and did a fine job of chasing the horses away. As everyone who was there can attest, the name “Bill” on the ranch is generally said at full volume and followed by some sort of accusation or negative…. “BILL… NOOOO BILL… NO BILL… BAD DOG BILL… STOP THAT BILL… BIIIIILLLLLL!!!!!!!!”
Once Bill was content with the horse situation, he lay down in the road and happily watched us finish the shoot. As I have mentioned before, I have a very hard time working in full-moon light. The conditions are very similar to working in daylight and present a huge challenge when working alone. It’s a bit like being on a fully lit stage with no script, set, or props, and told to just do something cool. Inevitably, whatever you do ends up feelinging a bit contrived and awkward. Personally, I feel this way about these images, but I have also had some good response to the work, so I feel like I am close to something new. In the next post I will go into some of what I learned in my workshop with Arno Minkenen… as I try for a breakthrough.
On our last night at The Sacred Door Trail opening ceremonies, I had stirred enough interest in my photography to obtain two playmates: Foxie Flambe and Melanie Malia. This was a lovely break from my normal self-portrait style as I had both models and new ideas flowing my way. The night began with Foxie quietly asking me if I would like to wear a feather mohawk to the final event of the day, a wonderful African drumming group called The Drum Brothers. Of course! Silly question. After shaking all our inhibitions loose on the dance floor, we headed out into the meadow armed with my usual lights and Foxie’s LED hula-hoop. In the end, the hoop became the toy of choice and I think we got some really different types of images, possibly even giving the light painters a run for their money.
The mohawks added such a fun element to the images that I am definitely thinking about adding some costumes back into my work. I find that there is such a freedom in having a prop to work off of when making this type of image, whether it is a light, a costume, a person, or an object. Since I am generally working alone these days, sans Aloyse Blair, I find that I need this element to create some sort of a storyline or the images can become very flat. In my mind, the most successful images keep you wondering and never let you complete the sentence. You must come back over and over, wondering what exactly are you viewing. The images are like questions rather than punch lines. Props help me to create these types of images. The hardest thing for me to do is work in full moon light without props, as you will be able to see in the next post. Until then, enjoy the Fake Full Moon Mohawk Dancer, Spirograph, The Flaming Mohawk, The Exploding Cloud Heart, and Meditating Moon Panda.
Late this June I was invited to the Big Hole area of Montana to be part of the ceremonial opening of The Sacred Door Trail. This trail was conceived and created by Weston Pew, a Montana native, with a lot of vision. After hiking the Camino de Santiago himself, and then further exploring ideas of pilgrimage, spirituality, and healing; Weston decided to connect several existing trails and create the first interfaith, American based, pilgrimage route. The trail covers approximately 175 miles of remote wilderness and generally takes about a month to hike.
For the opening, a group of about seventy-five gathered to light and tend a sacred fire that burned for three days and nights. While the fire was burning, the group was involved in ceremonies led by different spiritual leaders from around the world. Among the vast variety of faiths and ideologies represented, we were especially grateful to engage in Sufi dances, Buddhist and Christian prayers, Hindu Pujas, Kundalini yoga practices, sound healing ceremonies led by Peruvian shamans, and even the chance to smoke a nineteenth generation peace pipe with Chief Looking Horse, bundle keeper for the entire Sioux nation.
The event was held at the western most portal of the trail, in an enormous meadow, at Hogan cabin (this cabin gets my vote for the world’s cutest cabin). Surrounded by pine trees, filled with thousands of purple and blue flowers, flooded with starlight and a waxing moon, I could have not asked for a more beautiful place to make images. Due to the fact that we were all camping, it was really easy to grab my camera, walk a short distance away and find a terrific shooting location. These images were shot over three nights and I am very happy with how they turned out.
As a final note, I just wanted to say that getting to experience this ceremony, the new friends I made during the process, and where it has led me over the course of my summer is already having profound effects on my spiritual growth as well as pointing me in the direction of a future I could not have previously imagined. For that, I thank Weston Pew for inviting me, and every one who came, participated, and made it a very special event.
After a very successful art opening during the month of March at the National Arts Club League in New York City, I headed off to Spain. Arriving in early April, I headed south to Seville and Granada to take in the Spanish version of Semana Santa, or Holy week. Night after night, processions of pointy capped and robed penitents (think KKK, but not), lead several hundred-year-old litters carrying life size, candle lit, Mary and Jesus figures though the streets until dawn. This was one of the most interesting and beautiful festivals I have experienced in all my travels.
Two weeks later, having thoroughly enjoyed the Alhambra, and much of fabulous Granada, I headed north to Pamplona to begin walking part of the Camino de Santiago. This is a thousand-year-old Christian Pilgrimage that spans 500 miles from the French border, across northern Spain to the Galician coast. Although, I had hoped to walk the whole thing, weather, bed bugs, blisters, and a nasty cold stopped this pilgrim in her tracks after covering about 175 miles. I would still love to go back and complete the walk, but at the time I knew I was not prepared to actually reach Santiago.
As I walked, I kept getting Facebook messages from one of my dearest friends Marilyn Poon, tempting me to ditch the Camino and head to surf camp in Valdovino, Spain. After about two and half weeks I relented, hopped a bus, and was surfing the cold Atlantic Ocean the following morning. I ended up spending five weeks at the Seeker Surf Camp, the last of which I was in convalescence due to my generally crummy lower back. Thankfully, I find inspiration in times of pain and during this recuperation, there was a brilliant full moon accompanied by the rare clear, warm, Galician evening. What follows are the images I made that night.
Due to the fact that I walked the Camino, I only brought my Cannon G12 camera with me to Spain, a glorified point and shoot, with few long exposure settings. Thus, the ever-generous Marilyn Poon lent me her very fancy Nikon camera, but as I was unaccustomed with its format, I felt a little uncomfortable with the lenses and settings. I honestly can’t say that these images begin to touch the ones I shot in Valdovino last summer, but I am not going to wholly discredit them either. So with out further adeau… Valdovino 2012…
