DRIP rehearsal

In order to prepare for the upcoming DRIP show we hold rehearsals at the Harwood-Watson Dance Studio in Baldwin Park. These were some moments I was able to capture.

Kim and Devondra practicing lifts.

The girls running across the floor as Mariko and Elise, the choreographer, look on.

I captured this shot with the flash, which showed up in the mirror and hovers over Elise's shoulder. 

Tyson

A while back I was hanging out with my friend Tyson and I happened to snap a photograph of him when he wasn't looking. Months later that photo would become the starting point for my most complex wood block print to date.

The reason that I loved this photo so much was because it captured Tyson in a rare state. Normally, Tyson is a just a pure force of chaotic energy. The air around him feels the way static sounds on a T.V. or radio. His mind and his body nervously jump from one stimulus to the next. But on his patio he is completely different. He sits still, his eyes focus into the distance, and if you listen carefully you can hear him exhale as he thinks about something he's not ready to talk about. He adjusts his weight, comfortable in this moment of quiet calm. 

Months later I came across the photo and decided to make it into a wood block print. 

Even though this piece is small it is very complex. Each color was carved on a separate board of wood, all the paint colors had to be mixed by hand, and each board had to be run through the press individually.  Each piece of paper had to be run through the press six times with the wood blocks in a particular order so the colors would layer properly forming the desired image. 

Although I love the photograph of Tyson I think the print represents him better. All the elements hold together loosely to create an image that is relaxed but holds enormous kinetic potential. 

Believe It or Not

The past few weeks have been stimulating to say the least. Toward the end of May I found myself at the Orlando Fringe Festival watching the Poetry Slam due to a canceled show. That proved to be a fateful day to say the least.

Seeing poet and friend Tod Caviness work his Poetry Vending Machine had inspired me to write poems and perform in front of an audience at the open mic night at Will's Pub. At the time I had been on the stage only once but was itching for more. Being exposed to the professional artists at the Fringe Poetry Slam made me to hungry for what spoken word could truly be. One artist stood out in particular.

Curtis X Meyer got onstage and belted out a poem he had written about literacy titled "In Crypt". I hung on every fiery word that seemed to spark out of his mouth. It was well written and passionately performed. It was a far cry from my nervous recital at Will's Pub. I was completely in awe of Curtis's command over the audience and the art form. I wanted to be that good.

I was unable to meet Curtis that night but I had the good fortune of running into him the next day as I was leaving a show. I told him about how I wanted to improve my skills as a spoken word artist. He said that he was glad to offer his help and we exchanged information. He helped edit my first real spoken word poem through emails but when it came time to give tips on actual performance we agreed to meet in person. Our paths crossed again at Stardust Coffee.

He coincidentally showed up with an astrology book he was reading. I was immediately curious and began asking him questions. It's not everyday I get to meet someone who shares in the same quirky interests as myself. He was just as eager to talk to me and the conversation topics bounced off the walls like a room filled with swarming bees. That electricity you get when two tornados collide.

For our first date he took me to the Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum. Why settle for dinner and a movie? There is far too much to explore.

A beautifully adorned cannibal skull photographed with an ironic halo of light.

This is a photograph of an intricately carved ostrich egg and a piece of alligator hide with an antique pitchfork still attached. 

I couldn't resist this shot: Curtis on the Throne of Passion.

Two skeletons on display. One representing the way they are found compressed in rock, the other a full scale replication. 

My fingers in relation to the worlds smallest printed book. (It's in that tiny black circle) 

Perhaps my favorite photograph taken that day. Curtis was waiting for me while I was taking a picture of the terra cotta figures on display. At the last minute I noticed his symmetrical reflection and I shifted my shot. He didn't think he was in the photo, but his presence is what makes the photo so striking. 

Interestingly enough, Curtis's father actually works for Ripley's and we met up with him at the corporate office/warehouse for a brief behind-the-scenes tour. It was a toss up between being a kid at Chuck-E-Cheese and feeling like that guy wheeling the crate into the cavernous warehouse at the end of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Gorgeously embellished Tibetan ram skulls.

A solitary mummy hand resting elegantly on a bed of bubble wrap. 

The head of a different female mummy. If you look to the lower half of her skull you can see parts of her hair still coifed in delicate spirals. 

After the hours of taking in all the colorful curiosities Curtis relaxes near the window at PomPom's Teahouse and Sandwicheria. An interesting day to say the least. 

4th of July Festivities

My adventures in Orlando led me to Austin's Coffee for their I-4 Fest.

Local musician Sarah Purser performing with her guitarist.

I took this photograph of a man watching an outdoor performance at Austin's Coffee. He had an old-fashioned jug in his lap labeled XXX. 

Some colorful hipster girls leaning against a marigold wall.

I stepped inside Austin's to bask in the AC when I noticed these two playing a game. I took a few candid shots before the girl happened to look over at me. That smile tells me that she is winning. This ended up being the best shot of the bunch. 

My roommate and I had bought food to eat in the park downtown but it ended up pouring rain. We decided to have a picnic in the car instead. I took this photograph of the trees beyond the dappled windshield.  

We were eventually able to walk downtown to get a spot for the fireworks. On our way through the old-fashioned neighborhoods of Thornton Park I happened to spot a lizard waiting patiently on the inside of an antique lamp. 

People started to gather in the park as the sun sank into a cloudy sky. You could begin to see lights illuminate throughout one of the cities high-rise apartment buildings.

I happened to catch this firework as it fizzled behind two flags in the park.

Grounded: The Art of Looking Down (Part 3)

More in my ongoing series of taking offbeat pictures of my feet. It has become an interesting reflection on the places I have been.

Matt and I during our visit to the Maitland Art Center. It was drizzling and we stopped to admire a blooming patch of wild mushrooms.

This photo was taken after working in the DRIP warehouse. I was carrying a can of black paint and dropped it over my foot. The contents spilled over my shoe and covered the floor. After the cleanup I realized that the paint and soaked completely through my socks. 

A brief moment of piece. This was taken before DRIP's big show at Isleworth Golf and Country Club. I had stopped at Dandelion Tea for lunch before I set out start the show. I put my feet up on the chair across from me, took a deep breath, and centered myself for a beautifully crazy day.

This photo was taken during my trip to Virginia. My friend Laura and I went to the Rappahannock River to explore. I dipped my feet in and enjoyed the contrast of minty toenails against the muted pebbles.  Something about being in the wilderness just makes you feel refreshed. 

This photo was taken while I was working with John building part of a DRIP set. I was holding up the frame when I noticed the composition of tools arranged on the concrete.

This is a photo of my roommate and I with her new puppy Lexi. We took her to the Fleet Peeples Dog Park to romp around. Such a cute dog, although we joke that she will most likely grow into a wolf. 

This was taken in my parent's pool when I came home for Father's Day. My sister Jenny and her boyfriend were casually floating around in the water. I waited for the perfect moment as they drifted by to take this shot. 

The Workshop Table

From time to time I help John create DRIP props at his warehouse downtown. On this particular day we were working in the parking lot and had his tools set up on a small wooden table. After a while it began to rain and we rushed to move everything inside. Despite the chaotic moment I became fixated on the table.

Marbled wood overlaid with crystal beads of rain. Organically out of place with all the dark metal and lifeless tarp hanging over the makeshift walls of the rental unit. 

John laughed as he saw me take a photograph of his table. I'm sure that to him it was just a simple surface, devoid of anything except a mess that needed to be cleaned. Through my eyes it looked completely different. 

Cast with the warming light from above it became an endless glossy field of texture. I wanted to run my thirsty fingers across the stippled grain; smearing droplets as though they were paint on a canvas blank with potential. Breathe in deeply as I destroy beauty in order to experience it. The photograph of this instant remains that tantalizing moment before you just give in. 

The Drum Circle

I came to the drum circle not knowing what to expect.

As I moved timidly toward the lot I could hear the steady pace of the drums grow louder. They were calling me out of the dark and pulling me closer to common ground.

Light from the flames flashed across the faces and rhythmic hands of the drummers closest to the center. Belly dancers moved hypnotically; they struck lightning to the rolling thunder of the drums. The fire rose, a hungry demon to lick the night.

For a moment I sit back and watch; breathe deeply and take it all in. I wonder how many times throughout history have small groups gathered around fires. How much of our humanity is tied to moments like this?

I've seen anthropology exhibits before. I've walked through the hushed rooms and I have gazed upon the skulls. But history is not quiet. We are so much more than bones.

Before cities, before agriculture, before written language; what did we share? Lost in darkness surrounded by beasts we huddled together. We used our hands to pound out noise that would become our identity. This scene, so prevalent throughout our history, is something most of us do not experience today.

I sit on the edge of the Drum Circle. The dancers feed off the steady pulse that fills the air. I remember the tattoo on my back. Six hands representing my family resembling the handprints left on cave walls by our ancestors. Another reminder of how small gaps in time can be. Now those hands seem to push me forward. I can't stand still anymore. I move into the circle and begin to dance. I want to be part of history.