Archive for August, 2010

StoryCorps

Airstream trailers are beautiful creations. The exterior shell appears to be a union of graceful line and simple form.

My admiration of the mighty Airstream was realized 15 or so years ago in Whitefish, Mont. A dear friend had the privilege of calling an Airstream home for a summer on Whitefish Lake. The location was lovely. The accommodations were free and part of her compensation package for serving as the campground host. I remember feeling a little envious of the temporary abode – at least until the propane line began to leak and daytime temperatures climbed into the 80s in August.

On a recent photo walk around downtown Fargo, N.D., a colleague and I happened upon the Airstream of all Airstreams. The trailer looks like a regular Airstream on the outside, but the inside is outfitted with a recording studio. This Airstream is the StoryCorps MobileBooth and it is parked outside the Fargo Public Library.

StoryCorps – if you didn’t already know – seeks to provide Americans with an opportunity to record, share and preserve stories. It’s a fabulous oral history project. Participants interview a family member, friend, mentor or other individual and receive a CD of the recording. Participation is free and conversations are also preserved at the Library of Congress. Select conversations are also broadcast on National Public Radio each week.

StoryCorps is a nonprofit organization and since 2003 has collected and archived more than 30,000 interviews from more than 60,000 participants, according to the group’s website. I appreciate the following comment from StoryCorps founder Dave Isay, “By listening closely to one another, we can help illuminate the true character of this nation reminding us all just how precious each day can be and how truly great it is to be alive.”

The StoryCorps’ MobileBooth is scheduled to remain in Fargo until Sept. 4. To make a reservation, call [800] 850-4406.

P.S. My friend Mo says it makes a delightful date night event.

Fargo, North Dakota Photographer + Health and Wellness

For the past several years I’ve been learning about yoga. While my body appreciates the movement that comes with a physical asana practice, my mind craves the stillness that comes during and after each class. I’ve come to appreciate the act of breathing and see breath as an accurate gauge of my mood, temperament and so many other things.

I’m a regular at Five Element: Yoga +Thai Massage here in Fargo, N.D., and really enjoyed a recent project that allowed me to create a series of new images for the studio and Juliet Trnka. We collaborated on a collection of yoga and massage photographs several years ago. That was before Juliet opened her current [and very beautiful] space. Many images from the previous project are featured on Five Element’s website.

At the close of each class at Five Element we are always encouraged to offer thanks to someone or something. For me, it’s a way to recognize that we are not alone and the world around us really isn’t about us. Juliet has taken this same principle and applied it through a gratitude page on her website. It is an ongoing list of objects, experiences and people for which she is grateful. The endeavor seems worthwhile to me.

I give thanks for: My husband, Wade, and our son, little M., a healthy body and open heart, the seasons, bare feet, Tuesday night yoga classes and my yoga friends, compassion, people who do the right thing simply because it is the right thing, hugs, kisses and snuggles from little M., coffee and more coffee, photography and my ability to see and create images, granola and veggies from Red Goose Gardens, libraries and parks, garage sales, popcorn made on the stovetop, a walk around the block, the Moosewood Cookbook, downtown Fargo, the Lemonade Book Club and all of its past, current and future members, $5 flower bouquets at Shotwell’s on Fridays, our neighbors who are both kind and quiet, coconut oil, my colleagues at The Space and Milestones Photography, sleeping in past 7 a.m., Dakota Montessori School, time to explore and learn, road trips!, my in-laws who adore their grandson and help fill in the gaps, public radio and editorial assignments for Minnesota Public Radio, wood floors, new projects and clients, beautiful light and interesting shadows, the past and adventures yet to come.

What are you thankful for?

Fargo, North Dakota Photographer + Health and Wellness

Fargo, North Dakota Photographer + Health and Wellness

Fargo, North Dakota Photographer + Health and Wellness

Fargo, North Dakota Photographer + Health and Wellness

Fargo, North Dakota Photographer + Health and Wellness

Fargo Children's Photographer

A recent Sunday morning portrait session appeared to have everything going for it: two cute kids, a good location and no time constraints.

Ahead of time, I’d asked the boys’ mother about her intentions and ideal outcomes.

“My #1 goal is to capture what the boys looked like at 6 and 2 years old and how they interact with each other,” mom Kirsten wrote to me on facebook. “They love each other so much and I want pictures that show that.”

Perfect. I’m naturally drawn to photographing people interacting and responding to each other. Pictures that show relationships are more interesting. Plus, knowing what the family hoped to achieve put me in a position to create images that complimented their goals.

Enter reality.

It was HOT and muggy and humid. The mosquitoes were so bad that dad Travis went to the store in search of bug spray. While little Reid was amenable and easily occupied, his older brother Davis was just plain grumpy. Did I mention it was unbearably hot?!

One lesson photojournalism has taught me is that photographers cannot always wait for the ideal situation, the perfect subject or better light. I have to be creative and figure out a way to make the best of any situation. Even if it means flipping a couple of kids upside down!

Fargo children's photographer

Fargo children's photographer

Fargo children's photographer

Fargo children's photographer

Fargo children's photographer

Fargo children's photographer

Happy Birthday Edie!

Edith “Edie” Cecelia was born at 1:33 p.m. one year ago today in Fargo, N.D., at MeritCare [now Sanford Health]. I was honored to attend and photograph her arrival. Edie’s parents are Britta and Kris. Here’s wishing all of you a very happy day!

Birth photography is fairly new to me. My first experience came in June 2005. As a photojournalist with The Forum of Fargo-Moorhead, I spent nearly 18 hours at MeritCare photographing first-time parents Dayna and Randy Olson and certified doula JoEllen Smith. It was a powerful and humbling experience. [The resulting picture package about the role of doulas during childbirth – “A Labor Of Love” – was recognized with a North Dakota Newspaper Association award.]

Later, after my son was born, I became increasingly interested in photographing childbirth. There is nothing quite like creating images that tell the story of a child’s arrival. It is technically and logistically challenging. But more than that, I enjoy being trusted and welcomed into a private space for a once-in-a-lifetime event that results in beautiful photographs. Birth photography is incredibly satisfying on both a personal and professional basis.

Thanks again Britta and Kris for allowing me to be part of your special day.

P.S. You can see more photos of Edie’s birth and her beautiful family online at The TrygKerz Chronicles.

Notebook Detail

Milestones are opportunities for reflection. One year ago today I returned home from the VJ Multimedia Workshop in Ventura, Calif. [VJ stands for visual journalism.] The three-day workshop, which included a 24-hour shoot, was tuition free and open to 25 photojournalists who were laid off in recent years. Another 25 spots were reserved for students.

My interest in the workshop was multifaceted. First, I wanted to know how my photography and storytelling skills compared to other photojournalists. I wanted to know if I could show up somewhere I’d never been and produce a visual story just for the sake of doing it [not because an editor had assigned it]. I’ve spent much of my career isolated in smaller markets and insulated by the local newspaper. Second, I wanted to build my audio and multimedia skills. The variety of speakers and affordability of the workshop also appealed to me. Plus, what’s not to love about southern California.

With the best of intentions, I planned to pause, reflect and write about my experience before today. It’s even been on my official “to do” list for the past week. Deadlines, dear friends, are so important in my ability to accomplish any and every task.

There were many, many wonderful things about the workshop, which I hope will be offered again in 2011.

I could write about Dave LaBelle’s passionate plea for compassion and empathy. [I treasure Mr. LaBelle’s books and continue to go back to them again and again.]

I could write about getting over my fear of Tom Kennedy whose critique of my portfolio a decade ago at The Eddie Adams Workshop left me in tears. [He was right. I just wasn’t in the right place to understand what he was saying].

I could write about photo editor Jim Merithew, who led our team [Group No. 2] in our quest to photograph H2O and “what it feels like, not what it looks like”. [Mr. Merithew made time to look through more than 1,200 images I shot during the workshop and offered several valuable shooting suggestions – tuck the subject in the pocket, watch your horizons, don’t force images, wait and watch, for example.]

For me, the most important nugget of the workshop came as the result of a presentation by Grover Sanschagrin, who helped create PhotoShelter and SportsShooter.com. He basically gave an overview of PhotoShelter – which I have an account with and so should pretty much everyone who works with digital images – and talked about SEO, image size, load times, social media, e-commerce, distribution, re-sale, personal vs. commercial uses, all things analyzable and online. He talked about the need for photographers to use more text on blogs to “get found” and advocated for virtual agencies.

I remember sitting in a massive black room at the Brooks Institute campus listening to Mr. Sanschagrin and writing the phrase “Get in the Game” in my MoleSkine. I traced the words over and over [see photo above]. The funny thing is I don’t think he said those exact words. If he did, then thanks are doubly due.

‘Get in the Game’ means that it doesn’t matter the caliber of my skills – which are expanding – or my ideas – which are too numerous to deal with most of the time. If no one but me knows about my passion, interest, skills, availability or how to find me than what’s the point.

I still have a long way to go, but looking back over the past 12 months I’ve made progress. This morning I made a list of things I’ve accomplished – like this website and online journal – for my own purposes and a list of goals for the coming year. Maybe I’ll write about my goals another time.

In the days after the workshop, Mr. Merithew wrote an article for SportsShooter.com detailing his workshop experience and that of others. [You can read it on SportsShooter.com.] My voice was among those included in the article.

“The VJ Multimedia Workshop was about so much more than multimedia and visual storytelling,” said Ann Arbor Miller. “It gave me a chance to embrace the power that is photojournalism and restored my faith in myself as a photographer.”

I continue to believe what I said a year ago, and have faith that in the months ahead I will continue this journey – one assignment, one image and one story at a time.

Below are a few photographs from my time in Ventura last summer. The H2O project remains online on the VJ Multimedia Workshop website. I remain grateful to everyone at the workshop as well as Ventura resident Drake Eaton, who allowed me to photograph him at the beach, at home and everywhere in between.

Enjoy!

P.S. Anyone interested in trying out PhotoShelter should use this link to get a one-time referral discount.

Stacking Rocks Near Surfers Point

At The Beach

Walking Feet

Walking

At Home

In The Kitchen

Fixing The Van

On The Porch

Street Scene