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Death Row Cats

in

So my friend Garrett has had an idea to parody the classic "Death Row Records" Vibe cover as a family portrait for some time and we finally made it happen. I know its been done before, and apparently now even on a show on MTV has done it, but it just fits so perfectly for Garret , Colle (pronounced "cole", or, I guess "coal"), and Vicious, I couldn't pass it up.
 
I'd credit the original photographer, but I cannot find who it is.

Wild Sweet Orange in Seattle.

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There is a legendary radio station in Seattle called KEXP and it just so happens they (collectively, it seems) have become big fans of a band that is full of people I call my friends. This band is called Wild Sweet Orange. KEXP asked the band to come out to Seattle to play a New Years Eve show with Jeremy Enigk (of Sunny Day Real Estate and The Fire Theft fame) and I weaseled my way into going with them to document the trip which was a perfect way to relieve my stir-crazy head. Too long in one city! My experience getting out there was....uhm...creative, we'll say. I'll sum it up by saying "lots of connections" and "hmm...am I going to get on this flight?". I got there a couple of hours shy of going with them to the KEXP studios for a little on-air time (which honestly I was a bit sad about. I like to shoot everything, and I have a affinity to behind-the-scenes stuff, in general) but oh well.  
 
In addition to the radio bit they played two nights at Chop Suey co-headlining (second billed, but still!) with Jeremy. 

 
That is the inside of the front door of Chop Suey. Would that it had Wild Sweet Orange on the marquee.

One of the most exciting things for me was haphazardly meeting a man who makes music that makes my heart want to weep with distant longing pain and yet jump around with glee at the same time. Damien Jurado can make a song take me to these odd recesses of my mind where I live in this alternate universe where things are warm and sunny and happy and I work with my hands breath air that is clean, but have something in my past that haunts me sometimes. Something rough and troubling, but ultimately surmountable. Okay, I'm weird. Whatever. Shut up. The point is Damien Jurado is important to me and my brain. I had written him an email that, through 600 words of rambling, essentially said that I'd be in Seattle and if he was to be around, I'd love to photograph him. I never got a reply to the email (Which is fine. I'm sure I was a bit creepy in it, AND they'd just gotten back from an overseas tour) but sort of secretly held out some hope. We had all headed down to the venue for the guys to do a line check that apparently never actually happened and as we all meandred back towards the van, I saw a dude (yes, Dude) donning nothing short of a lumberjack's jacket.   !   I walked up to him and asked if in fact he was who I suspected. He confirmed and I was happy. I'm pretty sure everyone in the band made sure to meet him, and I made sure to force upon my cellphone to talk to friends of mine. Proof, you see.  
Here is Matt in front of him. Thats my phone he is on. That fact makes me happy. Note that I am not at all prone to being star-struck. It is only people who move me or I respect that get me nervous. [Suffice to say...] Not even the president gets a flutter.

and Damien with a random passer-by now dubbed Waldo.

 
Okay, enough blabbering. Here are some photos from the weekend.

And another bonus of being in Seattle is seeing an old friend Azurae and her new husband Danny.


Life in Alabama

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I've lived in the southeastern United States for the majority of my life and I have yet to escape sports fanaticism--namely football. It's its own religion. I grew up in Knoxville, Tennessee and, on game day, JUST the football stadium alone served as the fourth largest city in the state. I've lived in Alabama for the better part of a decade residing forty-five minutes from the local mecca of pigskin passion and my experience even that far away has been intense (by which I Alabama Football(!) utterly permeates nearly all of life. If not vigor for the Tide, then a sworn allegiance to the War Eagle of Auburn that comes with a life-time commitment of University of Alabama hatred.) to say the least. I am not curious to see what life is like in Tuscaloosa, where the color of blood is not coincidentally crimson. I'm close enough already. 
 
As far back as I can remember there has been a special place (apparently next to God) for the Alabama head coach in the hearts of the devoted. My mom's family is from Huntsville, Alabama which is just as avid as the rest of the state and thusly "The Bear" is pretty much ingrained in my mind. I. Cannot. Get. Rid. Of. It. I haven't cared about sports to any significant degree for a seriously long time but this does not grant me any sort of respite. Ever. 
 
Anyway. 
 
My friend James has been writing a book in his head that largely has to do with this idea. As this way of life is all I've witnessed in my short years, I am not sure how it differs from his upbringing in St. Louis, but I can at least recognize it as completely insane. But it remains that he is intrigued and will one day write down his thoughts and I swear the book will be a best seller. So, to do my part in helping him out (read: cash in on his fortune), I try to contribute as much as possible to his research. This summer I grabbed him a sweet line illustration of Bear Bryant hand-burned/drawn into a piece of wood that was then shellacked and made ready for wall hanging. It was pretty intense. I do think I got the better end of that two dollars. The seller got the satisfaction of passing along a portrait of a great man to yet another person of like mind. Sort of. 
 
But this devotion to the football team and the demi-god that assuredly is the head coach is clearly still around. The Alabama Crimson Tide just hired a new football coach called Nick Saban. AND HOW! The contract he signed made him the highest paid college football coach in history. 
 
I found an Alabama flag (boring story) and draped it on Bryan's desk so he'd find it one morning, mostly to see his reaction. He is a Georgia guy. Well this flag-prank turned into a satirical photo shoot featuring a shirtless Bryan posing as a die-hard Alabama fan.  
 
I MUST STRESS HERE, FOR BRYAN'S SAKE, THAT THIS IS A JOKE. 
 

Stillwater is an odd place.

in

I recently took a trip to Stillwater, Oklahoma to see an old friend (Adrian) I'd not seen in some time and was reminded what a weird place it is. Stillwater, is what I mean, but Oklahoma is a bit odd by itself. I was there for what was deemed "a bit of a mad tea party" complete with top hats, tea, potatoes (?), pizza, and an improvisational string trio. If, perchance, you've not been to an outdoor teaparty in the midwest during the month of December, I submit you've not been alive. Let me rephrase that. You are likely slightly more sane than those of us in attendance. (Mid-December tea party, however, does NOT rival a mid-February dip into Loch Ness. The loch steals from you all ability to feel and, tragically, all ability to feel any effects (taste or otherwise) of single malt whisky. "Ill advised" to to the faint of heart. It was awesome, but I digress.) 
 
 
Despite having a specific reason to be there, most of my time was spent...filling time. Part of this time-filling was used to make a new friend, Jesse. He plays various instruments and sings in a band called Kunek and I've enjoyed their music as long as I've known of it, but, despite that, I'd not had a chance to meet him until this trip (nigh on three years since I was last in Stillwater). I suppose Adrian would posit that Jesse and I got along so well because we're both very Leo (I am apparently something like quadruple or quintuple Leo, but that stuff is over my head). Lions. Rawr. Anyway, we got on well and even have tentatively decided to musically-collaborate-by-mail to bring the awesome powers of our respective bands into one collective powerhouse of awesome awesomeness.
 
Here is a small chunk of photos from my trip. 
 

Adrian running. I have no idea why though. She took off and sprinted (as much as one can in those boots) to her neighbor's house, soon to return in the same manner--as if she'd just been given a way to commune with a herd of narwal or given some dark chocolate. 
 

Adrian in front of her house. Yes, that is 419 1/2. Stillwater has this odd habit of having half-addresses.

Styled by me, taken by Adrian. THIS. BUMPER-STICKER. INFURIATES. ME.
 

(how can you not love this owl?)

Thanksgiving 2006

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Thanksgiving 2006 in Huntsville, Alabama. It is not all of the family, but who happened to be around as I was leaving for a shoot.

My grandmother...pretty much she'd kill me if she know I posted this image.

Grandmother (Virginia)

Granddad (Charlie)

James

Nicole

(me, taken by Nicole)

Grandparents

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These are my grandparents--Charlie and Virginia Cornelison who reside is illustrious Gurley, Alabama. My granddad worked for Redstone Arsenal ages and ages ago and I only have a vague idea of what he did, but what I do know is that since 1969 he has been a beekeeper. Not just a casual beekeeper, but the kind who gets awards and inductions in societies (or at least associations?). I am obviously in no position to be unbiased but I swear to you the honey that comes from Hurricane Valley is the best in the world. Anyway.

This is them at First Monday in Scotsboro, Alabama. First Monday was traditionally a trade day but has morphed into a kind of group flea market where everyone has their specialty. Knight Rider lunchbox? Sure. Oxe tongue? Why not. Guns and knives and romance novels? All here at this table. Avon products and creepy dolls? No problem. But mostly its all for sale, not for trade. That is to say, not as much trading goes on these days. I'm glad I got to witness the end of this era though. (If you're looking for some quality (read: 1980's) Harlequin Romance Novels, there is a good chance my grandmother will have a Piggly Wiggly bag full of them.)

October bouldering

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I headed out last week with Winslow to the Boulder Fields here in Birmingham. Here are a couple of shots from a day of watching people climb, hearing a lot of gibber jabber jargon [jug? crimp? i mean i can guess, but seriously], and appreciating autumnal climate changes.
 

 

 

more to come

Sara Ott

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Jason was shooting this girl (Sara Ott) so I jumped in to steal a shot with Bob. my trusty holga.

[it is a little noisy, my scanner is dying]

The Garage

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The Garage is the home of many a good time. Fact.  
 
Linds + Sidekick + "camera" 

 
 
Chris + a tree growing from his noggin 

 
 
Carrie Roll(she's a vegetarian!, carrie roll carrie roll)wagen 

 

Garage Sale of the Gods

in

Looking back through my trip to India I found this shot and the first thing that came to mind was "Garage Sale of the Gods". Cheesy, maybe, but funny enough to me. Whatever. It's a bunch of idols in one of the carving districts of Mamallapuram.