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Weekly: This month aka Emotional Whiplash

This month… I won’t lie, the emotional whiplash has been a lot. I can spare you the politics (not good, not good) but I, of course, cannot ignore what has happened to my beautiful LA County. As I mentioned before, the way that almost all of LA came together, overrunning donation centers with supplies, donating to fundraisers, opening their homes at a moment’s notice–that is what I am going hold onto from these last few weeks. The rest, well…I’m protecting my peace. I’m focusing on community, on what I can do in times like these. I can hardly fathom times like these…

The winds did pack up again since the Palisades and Eaton fires. All was safe in my little LA enclave, but I was crossing fingers and toes as the Santa Anas raged back up again. In 2022, there came a violent overnight windstorm that felled several large trees in my neighborhood, including two giant pines into my neighbors’ yard. Some post-storm photos below.

I wasn’t about to go anywhere near the fires, nor the destroyed homes. Props to the photographers who did rush literally into the fire to document what happened. That was not me. There is also plenty of concern about the air quality here, particularly with toxic compounds lingering in the air. I’m taking as many reasonable precautions as I can.

After what felt like the absolute longest week, I am finally crawling back to the myriad of small projects I have going as the year charges on. Work slows down quite a bit for me now, which is good for a sense of balance for this freelancer. That is, until about the end of February where I begin to question why I got myself into this career. Then, the moment March begins, the client calls being to come in and my mood vastly improves.

My work, along with a crew of very talented photographers, was featured on BizBash here. This was for the annual Candlelight Concert at Segerstrom Center for the Arts, which raised over $19 million for arts programming and education.

Currently reading:

100 Years of Solitude by the Gabriel Garcia Marquez – it’s been on my TBR shelf for years, and with the Netflix series out I figured now was as good a time as any to read the renowned classic. My copy is a Harper Perennial Edition with deckle edges. In the age of booktok and sprayed edges (aka “spredges”) this is more the aesthetics of reading I enjoy. There is not much more I can add to the discourse around this book. It is not an easy read, and thankfully this edition includes a family tree of all the main characters, but it is captivating. I’m glad to have read it before watching the series.

The Paris Review – longtime reader, ever behind at least one issue.

Miscellany:

In contrast to last year’s wet and soggy SoCal winter, this one has so far been dry and disconcertingly warm. Despite that, I plan my spring gardening right around now because it does sneak up. I receive catalogs from Baker Creek (the popular kid), John Scheepers (old and reliable), and Strictly Medicinal (a delightful and quirky catalog to peruse), and I also browse the many offerings at Renee’s Garden.

I’ve had the same 2-quart slow cooker (Crock-Pot brand) for over 10 years now. It had been sitting in my cabinets unused until sometime last fall when I pulled it out and started using it again. I’m happy to say, it is possibly one of the best kitchen gadgets for a two-person household like mine. I’ve stuck to mostly chilis, stews, and soups, as well as a pot of mulled cider for the holidays. I’ve recently purchased this cookbook, which has a number of recipes ideas that work for just me or two people. I’ll have to put some of my successful slow-cooks here as I go.

June 16 – Back to feeling human

We are definitely full speed into summer around my neck of the woods. The days have become long and warm. The evenings remain cool, which is nice. The upstairs part of my home tends to warm up in the heat of the day, then takes a few hours to release that heat into the cool of the evening. Our windows stay open, welcoming that release.

Since being sick last week, this is the first week I’ve felt human again. I took a quick trip down to Little Ethiopia in Los Angeles to meet my friend, Charles. We’d intended to try a bunch of food and visit the vintage shops along Fairfax. As ever, my timing was off and the shops all seemed to be closed. We did hop into a restaurant called Rosalind’s and ordered a dish called Vegan Glory, which we promptly devoured. Very tasty.

I was also happy to do some thrift shopping this week. Thrifting is my only hobby I haven’t tried to make into a career. And I’m quite aware just how much the thrift/vintage world has changed even in the last few years. What used to be a fairly cheap hobby has been turned into a so-called treasure hunt by online resellers. Grandpa’s 501s and Grandma’s depression glass are increasingly harder to find. These used to be the cheap collectables. Now they’re hot items on reselling sites. I didn’t find any of my usual treasures. I did pick up a few books. Being a gay uncle to seven-year-olds, I pick up books that are slightly above their reading level so that we always have reading as an activity when they’re over for a visit.

Friday evening was a trip to the Ahmanson Theatre at the Music Center in LA, to see A Strange Loop. I saw this musical on Broadway a couple of years ago, and I was interested to see how I’d react to it this time around. My brother, who was with me this time, didn’t particularly enjoy it. I’ve heard mixed reactions from friends as well. Personally, I find it reductive to leave an experience and simply stamp it as “I liked it” or “I didn’t like it.” I’ve studied theatre my entire life (I even have a degree in it) and I have to be okay with allowing a piece to make me think. Just because I’m not humming the lyrics on my way out, doesn’t mean the show is a failure. In this case of A Strange Loop, I really like the music and the ensemble cast. Parts of the show I find challenging probably in the fact that they weren’t particularly meant for me to consumed easily. Theatre is meant to make you think.

I ended the week with family over to enjoy the lengthening evenings. I grilled a bunch of vegetables that had been sitting in the fridge, and even experimented grilling tofu on a cedar plank. We poured rose and sat outside. The world is chaotic right now, but I’ll take good days with my family while I have them. Nothing but gratitude.

May into June

Funny thing about this blog that basically no one reads is that I feel free to update this corner of the internet with whatever I want, while also feeling like I have no obligation to actually keep the updates coming. I’ve been on-again-off-again with this blog/webpage for nearly 25 years now. This year, however, I decided to keep the posts coming, mostly as a log for myself and to be of use for any future developments that may arise.

As it happens, the last month since I posted has been a marathon of work, busy-ness, and rest, followed by a week of being completely on my ass due to a nasty cold. I rarely get sick, and certainly a cold wouldn’t been manageable while still leaving me able to work. This was a lovely combination of cold and flu symptoms. I’m not quite sure what I had contracted, but I had to proactively make myself stop and focus on recovery. Powering through such things can actually put you at risk for even worse health moving forward.

Finishing up the month of May meant finishing up my run as official photographer for the LA County Fair. This is definitely one of my defining gigs of the year. A treat and a challenge. I loved the Fair this year, and everyone I knew who came down to experience it talked about how impressed they were. I actually miss the fun once it’s over.

Post-Fair, I drove to the desert house for Memorial Day weekend to cook vegan food for our annual neighborhood barbecue there. This was much anticipated for me, and I had practiced making my whole roasted cauliflower on the smoker many times. On the big bbq day, I was met with quite a few curious glances as I loaded in and prepped the cauliflower. The gentlemen grilling meat right next to me snuck over for a taste. Apparently it was a hit, with almost none left once the line had come through. I was happy about that.

Coming back from the desert meant running headlong into June, Pride month, and the start of summer activities. I spent the day at WeHo Pride doing my own street photography, which as a nice change from my constant work photography mindset. I’d like to share a few of those shots in a separate post. A few days after Pride, began to feel sick and that’s when I signed off. I’m feeling much better now, and back to my grind.

One thing I’ve learned over the past many years is knowing when to stop. I don’t often like doing it, but I’d rather do it voluntarily rather than have the universe force me to.

May 5 – Quick desert escape before the Fair

Took the opportunity to escape to the desert house out on the Colorado River for a few days. It’s already hot enough in Parker, Arizona, to feel like summer. I wanted to relax a bit before the actual summer activities of the area begin–mainly boating, beaching, and day-drinking in the scorching hot sun. The area becomes a family vacationers and swimsuit-clad party animals looking to get tanked. I like to escape to the quiet.

We’ve been a part of this little desert community now since the early 1990s, when my grandparents bought what eventually would become their post-retirement home. When I was a kid, it felt like we were being dragged out there. The weather on the weekends we’d go out there would be unbelievably hot and my grandparents wouldn’t allow me and my siblings to watch TV. We were, of course, instantly bored and saved only by the prospect of going down to the water to go swimming. As an adult, I appreciate the little family house we have here much much more. It is both a refuge and a gathering place for raucous family gatherings.

My mini-cation was short-lived, as I had to book it home to start my month-long engagement with the LA County Fair. This is my second time with the Fair, though I’ve done many events with the Pomona Fairplex since. It’s one of my favorite events of the year, and I feel privileged to be one of three photographers on staff for the month. The fairgrounds covers whopping 487 acres, making it the largest county fair in the nation. What I remember the most is feeling like this was an endless visual feast, quite literally sensory overload. I grew up going to this Fair, and somehow I still wasn’t prepared for the amount of stimulation. Thankfully, we started out with a Fair food preview day to ease into the experience.

Once the food preview was over, we headed into the first Fair weekend. What’s amazing is that this massive event is created and organized by a rather small office of staff. And of course, there’s a practical army of food and shopping vendors, sanitation staff, volunteers, security, artists, and many, many, more. I can’t show much of what I’m photographing here out of respect to my contract. After clocking in about 17,000 steps on my first day back, I am reminded that for some reason I really enjoy working these gigantic events.

April 21 – A Dutch newspaper, the Dodgers, street photography, and the Pasadena Playhouse Gala.

I found out that some of the work I did for the Consulate of the Kingdom of the Netherlands was featured in a Dutch newspaper. Hidde, a friend and colleague, sent me a photo of the paper. I also found the article online, if you speak Dutch and want to get past the paywall.

A friend of mine invited me to a Dodger game. I took my Nikon F3 loaded with Kodak 400 T-Max. I took a few shots. Haven’t developed the roll yet. This started me carrying a smaller 35mm camera with me to more places, something photographers talk about all the time but I sometimes find a little burdensome. Carrying a camera around the grocery store, to the gas station, the post office…it seems a little odd. Then again, the great street photographers carried cameras and film with them always. They’d either roam the streets all day, or shoot in any spare moment they had.

More and more, I wonder about street photography. My stepdad had introduced me to the idea years ago, and we even attended one of the first exhibits of the work of Vivian Maier in Los Angeles. It seems like over the last six or seven years, especially on platforms like YouTube, street photography became more about content creation than actually decent photos. Content churner-outers are more emboldened to stick cameras in strangers’ faces, the idea of consent goes out the window fairly easily. The mystique of street photography lies in photography books. The now-forgotten names of the faces in the works of Vivian Maier, Elliot Erwitt, Robert Frank, and Diane Arbus, they peer out at us from another time. It’s easy to forget that they may not have consented to having their photo taken, while these were also eras when cameras weren’t so ubiquitous. No one was making content from street photography, because street photography didn’t pay. I’m not so sure it pays now since it doesn’t seem to be for anyone now, but for generations to come.

I’m in a swirl of photo editing from my steady stream of clients this month. I’ve been really happy with how much of the work has turned out, especially some of these shots from the Pasadena Playhouse annual gala. It was almost rained out, save for a set of elaborate clear catering tents. I put a prime lens on my DSLR and took advantage of the shimmer all around me from the raindrops falling on the enclosure.

Seasons, reaping, and sowing

The summer slump–that period between from somewhere in August to somewhere in September–has seemingly ended for me. August had a restless feeling. The sun suspended motionless in the afternoon sky. Clients all on vacation, so no work coming in. I did my best to keep the creativity in flow during the long, luxurious afternoons. Almost under our noses, the days begin to shorten. The sunsets come sooner. The mosquitos still manage to bite. Fall comes in.

Now I’m going back to client work. The first was at Angel Stadium in Anaheim for an event. A casual, yet extravagant, evening for wealthy donors to a non-profit held on the actual field of the stadium. I had to steal a quick selfie in the dugout, which was where I was to store my camera bag for the night.

I’ve been thinking of a clip I saw online of someone saying “you can’t always be in the reaping or harvest stage of life” and it really struck me. On some level, it’s something I already knew, but somehow never full had heard it articulated as such.

When I was younger, all I wanted was success. I had worked hard in college. Moved to the big city to pursue my dreams. Networked with the right people. I even made some really great friends. Yet, I was shocked that I wasn’t swimming in success. I knew I was talented and I knew I liked to work hard. So why weren’t opportunities falling from the sky? I waited for the phone to ring. I floated from day job to day job. For so many years I was focused solely on the reaping without really focusing on the sowing.

As a gardener, I knew this! I knew this as the years came and went, a few “somedays” came and went. Now, as I start booking my regular clients for fall events, I recognize that the only way I can do so confidently is because of seeds I sowed long ago. Seeds sown, by the way, in the face of personal adversity. I lost a relationship then, and friends of mine fell away. (I’m not saying you should sacrifice relationships to pursue a dream, but that is just how it played out for me.)

These are just reminders that there are indeed seasons to life. I may be having a harvest year of sorts, and it’s a good idea to think of planting new seeds as the year winds down. Lately, that has been reminding people around me that, while I am extremely grateful for my photography career, it is not the only thing I do. I’ve been playing and posting more music while looking for more opportunities to perform again.

A Garden in the Rain

A closeup photo of seed pods in the rain

” ‘Twas just a garden in the rain

Close to a little leafy lane

A touch of color ‘neath skies of grey…”

A Garden In The Rain (Carroll Gibbons / James Dyrenforth)

A very rainy week or so here in Southern California. One of my favorite times to take my Leica outside. Carefully, of course, as droplets are still dripping off of things.

I haven’t posted anything since last year, but feeling a sense of re-focus on creative pursuits. Pandemic life and political crises have occupied my mind almost non-stop since who knows when.

I know we aren’t in a clear space yet, but it’s nice to feel a storm has come to wash away and refresh.

A very familiar sunset

A beautiful sunset over the Colorado River in Parker, Arizona.
Sunset over the Colorado River in Parker, Arizona.

I wish I could be dancing in the streets right now after a very tense week of election stress. I’ve always found elections to be stressful but this one, of course, nearly pushed me to the edge.

I’m at the Arizona house to de-stress. Yes, that Arizona. And here watching a very familiar sunset again over the River. These sunsets that I’ve been watching since I was a small kid.

Sun setting over a dark and troubled time. Sun rising over a new day where the work is only begin. To heal. To begin anew.