20 to Tulum

Looking back at what is almost the end of the year, I would say that expression seems to come in waves. Art, music, prose, and even inspiration all need their time in the spotlight to evolve. The revolving door, through which they often arrive unannounced, is always open to the next muse, whomever she may be.

For now, it's nice that she has returned to the page.

Looking ahead, I can't help but wonder what opportunities will appear once we switch time zones for warmer climates:))

Would be awesome to run into Clarence and Alabama if they're still sharing the same coast. You never know;) The last time I was in their neck of the globe, little Elvis was only 8. He' must have 2 decades on him by now!

Oh, como pasa el tiempo;)!

Pause, Exhale, Reset. Next?

It's so nice to have a little free time again and go out to walk around with the camera and simply explore and observe freely. The brief time "off" from my commercial work has also been great to re-evaluate just what I'm doing with my career and where I want to go from here.

There's still so many more questions than answers, but happily the 3 Monkeys will be on a plane to Mexico in 24 days, where I suspect a couple months on a beach will help shed some light on just where to go from here.

In the meantime, a small sample of a December afternoon in Old Town Square, Prague....

Tension Rising

This idea of Truth is like a record skipping in my head.

One voice says, perhaps the Truth is happening behind doors I don't know even exist while I preen myself blindly in front of some two-way mirror. Maybe it's so beyond all of us, that we will have to one day tell our kids when asked, only Google knows.

It's easy to forget that the truth is beyond the realities of our tiny bubbles, but after all, how many truths can one truly handle, when perhaps it is only one or two that matter most?

We have seen artists enlightened enough to prove that sometimes only fiction can reveal real truth, thereby blowing the definition of truth down a whole other rabbit hole... and drunken debacle no doubt;)

After all this week's midnight walks and missed tram stops, the crescendo of voices have come to the unanimous conclusion that an artist can also use the truth to create fiction, and how dramatic it may be when set free...

Blind Eyes, White Lies & the Three Truths

I love pub-induced debates that drunkenly stumble down verbal spirals on things like the theoretical differences between reportage and. documentary. Three inebriated photographers waxing poetic can be a very amusing, if not impassioned, thing.

In regards to the matter, I don't recall who said it, but his quote remains, "There are 3 truths: your truth, my truth, and the truth." Even looking at my work, I think it's pretty obvious which truth I'm prone to. The hardcore and the haunted can have all the other stuff.

In the meantime, bar stool semantics can continue to split hairs on the same head, while the only difference that matters in my eyes, is the most beautiful divide between that which aims to captures reality, and that which aims to defy it.

It would appear, my dear, that I am stuck between the two:)

P

This message is brought to you by the fine makers of Krušovice, or something equally tall, cold, and yummy.

50 down, 50 to go.

I've been home almost 2 weeks now and my 40-day and 40 night, sleep-deprived epic photo-marathon already seems like a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

Though now well behind me, it's assuring to to speculate that the distant faces and sleepless nights connecting Budapest, Bratislava, Warsaw, Geneva, Abu Dhabi, Beijing, Shanghai, Bankgok, Pataya, and the eventual island mountain sunsets of Koh Lanta will surely have a ripple effect for many years to come.

Along the way I've affirmed that sometimes a window seat is a soother for the soul, and that sometimes a massage in Shanghai can save a man's life:)

My favorite part continues to be the randomness of doors that open that wouldn't appear otherwise, while the icing on the cake, and sacrifice I make, is the light at the end of the tunnel to come home to instead of having to Skype every other night. 

Lora's vocabulary and bag of ticks seemed to explode while I was gone, and the fact that I missed all of that is my pound of flesh for the job. She's only 16 months, and I'm pretty sure she's going to be smarter than me sooner than later. She's now also practicing her dramatic skills to see how she can play her Maminka and Tata:) The best I can do is stay one step ahead... though now it feels like I'm now one step behind.

50 days from Budapest

50 days to the Yukatan.

Still on the Mission

If I'm ever going to truly make it as an artist, something has to change. With current commercial commitments until the end of 2014, making time to dedicate to my personal work always seems to fall to the bottom of the to-do list.

2013 could be the first in many year that I will not have at least one exhibition by the end of the calendar.

I realise it sounds odd to complain. Over the next couple months, my commercial work shall see me in seven more countries including China, Abu Dhabi, and Thailand. By all accounts, I suppose many photographers would consider travelling around the world from behind the camera as the ultimate success.

This may all be true, and to be honest, I would say I actually like most of my work and almost always find it quite rewarding on a personal level.

But still, I know that no matter how good I may become as a commercial photographer, how much money I stand to make, or how many stamps I get in my passport, no success can scratch the itch of simply wanting to express my own voice as an artist and to do something above and beyond what I am otherwise known for.

Bittersweet Sunday

As fate would have it, a random seed planted a couple years ago has chanced to sprout in Los Angeles, where I will be bound to the sun within 24 hours.

...and so begins the whirlwind.

Trips don't usually begin to seem real until I start trying to figure out what the hell will go in my suitcase. Having to give up an opportunity in Dubai last year because of an unexpected soccer injury reminds me that nothing is certain. Happily, however, the flip side to this fact, is that anything remains possible when you're open to it.

But wouldn't you know. The moment I begin to feel excited about the fact that I am actually going, I realize that I will go a full week without any of my current Daddy duties. One might easily make the argument that not starting your day by having your lips twisted or drool pooling in your ear would be a good thing.

But it's kinda' like going full frame: once you have it, I don't think you can ever go back. All the joys simply make all the lip twists and small sacrifices seem to evaporate.

It's somewhat of a personal revelation that I'm  more torn about leaving my daughter for a week, than I am excited about going on a new adventure on my own. From someone who's happily traveled alone so long, it's hard for me to believe that a force so strong has come along to change all that.

Miss her already.

Between Pablos

"It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child." - Picasso

"Amen:)" - Pacey

Anne Morris Waxes Poetic

            

           The Swan

                             Swift the passage of that proud grace,

that awesome wonder of triumph and tragedy

that ravages the tumultuous river of Time,

    

                              Cloaked in silken white,

pristine and pure,

velvet soft down masks her sinewy strength,   

merciless cruelty,  fierce courage,

                          

                              A juggernaut of lust and power,

inflicting  pain, enduring suffering,       

majestic in grace,

ravishing in beauty,

fearsome in savagery,

navigating chance currents,

treacheries unforeseen ,

terrors unknown,

In solitude she sails,

a prisoner,

locked within the inevitable flow of Time

                               that bears her to the sea,

Alone ,

the arch of her  neck regal and  proud,

she glides on and  ever on,          

until..........

opening her throat in the glory

of her one and final song ,

                                she's gone,

     vanishing forever

         in darkening waters,

                   descending night.



by Anne Morris

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AWE-SOME

                                            

Film. Fast Forward.

Considering how much has already been done in the art world, and especially photography, achieving anything truly original becomes more and more difficult. That said, it’s exciting to see how technology is affecting not only the way we create art, but how we show it.

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Because of the luxuries born from the digital revolution, people have become more inclined to experiment and take chances. I like to think that my work has never been done before, but when I search keywords like Impressionist Photography I can see similar work to my own beginning to pop up here and there.
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Though there are still no major photographers leading the way in this regard, the tide has started. Give it 5 to 10 years. Once photographers begin to really develop the style, I’m quite sure that observers and collectors alike will begin to see a real movement.
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Also, with the evolution of LCDs, flatscreens, and digital frames, I see unprecedented opportunities in regards to “moving” pictures. It becomes highly conceivable that an image which appears in the morning may then totally evolve into another image by the evening, though completely unperceivable to the human eye throughout the day.
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I mean, how cool would it be to wake up to one piece of art, and go to sleep to another?!
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Technologies and trends aside, ask me where I think I’ll be personally in 5 or 10 years, and I have learned better than to attempt an answer. Knowing me, I will have reinvented everything at least once or twice over, probably starting something new all over again.