Yes, I know: it’s been months since my last post. You’d think there’d be no good reason for such a lapse, barring some near-fatal disease, a honeymoon overseas, or tax season. None of these suffice.
The one thing that makes sense of this entire mess (aside from my just being incredibly busy) is that I’ve been saving all my postworthy blogs for something truly THAT good. Today I found it.
Daniel Danger, a name only a 40s gumshoe detective could love: he walked into my office like a thug pandering blow in back alley corners, and hit like a former middleweight remembering his pre-success junior high acne. That’s how I felt (kinda) when I first saw this poster at OMG Posters. I just sat there for a moment taking in the strokes, the colors, the mood and feel of this scene. It really stopped me in my swivel, high-back faux-leather office chair.
It’s put me on a hunt of other Daniel Danger prints, and there are a good number, each with this distinctly similar feel. Dark. Moody. High contrast, with some light providing a patina for the scene’s raw emotion. I believe one can only get a print for this by going to one of the Why? concerts where they’re sold. I need to find a friend willing to go, just so I can pay their ticket, pay their gas, pay their overnight binge just to get me one of these prints.
Yes, I’m that desperate.
This is freakin’ amazing. You’re lucky I care enough to even tell you about it (that’s how I feel).
Zack Arias is a photographer I’ve been watching for about 4, maybe 5 years. I think I first came across him in the forums on OpenSourcePhoto.net in the days when I was there nightly, asking questions and gathering up ideas and tips like Hansel & Gretel in the forest. His Onelight Workshop was my top choice for what I wanted to do for self-improvement. Of course, that was years ago when photography was a part of my job description.
But even now I follow him. For the learning, and for the connection. He doesn’t offer much pretense; just himself.
I’ve moved past wanting to host a workshop for him. I let go of scribbling ideas to help brand him. We’ve conversed, but only just. He’s busy and I’m a fan from afar. It’s totally cool.
And while in the past I’ve connected with his photography, what I’ve identified with is his person. It comes thru in one’s art if you know how and where to look. People I’m close with (and trust that they’re not just yanking my chain) say there’s something definable in my photos. Yep, that’s a Josh photo—you can definitely see it. I don’t even know what that means, or what they refer to. But it encourages me to think there is something there to define me. That I come thru in my art.
Much of that voice of mine contains struggle, contrast, moodiness. I wrestle with the artist in me. Fangs bang against claws, sometimes.
Into this foray steps Zack again. It’s encouraging to hear he shares some of these struggles. It’s interesting to hear his voice in words, overlayed to moving photos. I’ve followed him (via his blog) through some tough times, especially this year. I can’t even appreciate how difficult it’s been for him—but he brings it all into the discussion. He doesn’t hide it, like so many other artists I know who feel a need to project a continuously sterile smile. They’ve adopted the plastic surgery philosophy for life, but they’ve lost their elasticity. Following them on Twitter and blog leaves me feeling like they’ve really convinced themselves everything is always okay; every tweet and micro blog ends in four exclamations points and begins with “I met <insert famous name>” or “Just ate at <insert famous restaurant> with <insert famous name>” or “My new blog entry Roxxors <or insert your own newer, better adjective>”.
I grow tired of reading what feels like falseness to me. If this is something you identify with, then you’ll love Zack’s recent video. Watch it here.
Back in the day, when I wanted to buy a website to publish all my photos, I wanted the domain moodyphoto.com. I’ve gone thru hundreds of iterations in simlar veins…none have quite fit me or my photos and the task is still unfinished.
I saw the portfolio of Glenn Traver today. Loved his photos. They’re simple and unpretentiously moody because they’re all low light. Still saturated, just long exposures. See what I mean? More here.