Enough To Break The Ice

Today my brother told me a line to use when I need to start a conversation with a stranger:

How much does a polar bear weigh?

Enough to break the ice.

Speaking of breaking the ice, today a truck drove off the road and off a small cliff into the ice of Coal Creek. As I photographed his truck being pulled from the creek the man, soaking wet in freezing temperatures, was cracking jokes about it.

Apparently, he drove off the cliff because he was distracted answering his phone and when he realized he was going off the edge he just put his hands to the ceiling and braced himself; didn't hit the breaks or anything.

My First Bridals

In college I got my lowest grades in portrait photography and have never been interested in it enough to overcome my feelings of inadequacy and intimidation for the art since. Mostly, it's the studio lighting that scares me and having to position/entertain people that disinterests me. It has been very recent that I even thought it could be fun to try again.

Fortunately for me, my sister is getting married and let me take her bridal photos.

That would be my studio lighting on the left there.

Snow.

I don't like to live with snow, yet I've never gone a winter without it. The various times I've moved away from the town where I grew up (depicted below), I've only ended up somewhere colder, often with even more snow.

Dissonance in My Work

I've had a blog for five days and I already try to find excuses not to do it... but I digress.

All I have to show for today is a series of mediocre photos of random events I covered. I'm just not feeling "it" today, whatever that "it" is... you know what I mean. The drive to put yourself into everything you're doing, especially that thing you most LOVE to do?

"GRRAAHHHH!!! Where are my teammates?"
Today, I would be one of those teammates sprinting up and down the court but just not making it to my position correctly.

Moldy Chestnuts

I finally roasted the chestnuts I bought nearly a week ago. Hurrah.

Some of them were moldy. Boo.

Passing The Mittens

The weather forecast calls for a weekend of snow, so we decided to rake the leaves while we still could. It was already cold and rainy, so I pulled out the only gloves I have that are Aidan's size--my childhood mittens.

Last year she refused to wear them, and I don't blame her. I remember liking them as a kid, but looking at them now they seem almost creepy. But, this year she seems content to wear them, which makes me smile to see them in use again.

I Never Cared Much For Sports

It is true. I never liked to watch sporting events. I faked it through High School on various occasions, but have since let go of what I saw to be an embarrassing obsession displaying the most childish, unconscious aspects of human nature.

Then I became a photojournalist.

In any given week, I spend more time shooting sports than anything else. I've learned the rules of football. I know the names of every basketball player on the college team. I look forward to my time on the sidelines, capturing tears, anger, and orgasmic ecstasy. Some of my favorite photos are ones that will never be printed in the paper because they are too abstract, the ball isn't in the photo, or merely that I am the only one who likes them.

These are some of those that I got tonight:

And this is what it looks like when you're about to get hit by a ball: