Anthony Pisano ...

This Is My Home from Mark on Vimeo.

I loved this ... On an unseasonably warm November night in Manhattan on our way to get ice cream, we stumbled upon what appeared to be a vintage shop, brightly lit display window and all. As we began to walk in, a man sitting out front warned us that we were welcome to explore, but nothing inside was for sale. Our interests piqued, we began to browse through the collections the man out front had built throughout his life. This is a story of a man and his home.

 

Remembering My Mum ...

Someplace Else

Imagine if she didn't really die.
That it was her I saw this morning
having her breakfast, at the window that
looked out over the bay.

That our pain was imagined, and
her pain was a nightmare of mine.
That this morning, I woke up and
remembered ... she lived someplace else.

Then again, maybe I just caught a small glimpse of her in her heaven.
A cottage, with a big window, and a view that looked out over the sea.

My Great Big Photographic Hero ...

My Great Big Photographic Hero ... David du Chemin, posted news that rocked my world.  In a bad way.

David is a talented photographer, a man who wanders the world, capturing scenes, telling stories, and sharing his wisdom in ways that delight me. 

I've just come from reading his blog, a post where he tells his story of being denied entry to the United States of America.  But I'll let him tell it: '

But after 5 hours of questioning, an extensive vehicle search, and a second interrogation, I was told I was being denied entry to the United States of America, because “we have no proof you’ll return to Canada and we worry you’ll try to live here,” which nearly had me on the floor with laughter because, ahem, how do I put this? I like living in Canada. I have no desire to live in the United States. I want to travel the U.S., I want to photograph it, but I have no desire to leave my home. Which, as it turns out, is good, because they aren’t letting me. God knows they wouldn’t want a Canadian stealing the job of a Mexican. I just wanted to visit, man, not invade.

I was finger-printed, photographed, and made to sign transcripts of the interrogation on top of the line that said, “Signature of Alien,” which made me want desperately to sign, “E.T.”, “Mork”, or “Spock.” I couldn’t decide, so I signed my name on the form, and got back into the Jeep, grateful they’d only used the latex gloves while they searched the trunk of the Jeep, and not the trunk of, uh, ahem, me.

He will, and is, handling this with grace but he has planned this roadtrip for a long time, he'd already started out on it before his accident and now, it's over.

There's nothing more to say ... is there?

Barter and Exchange ...

I was taking some photographs the other day.  There's a growing number of people, appearing in my world, who are happy to work with me in exchange for photography.

Tis grand ...!

I was 'on location' last Friday when I felt eyes upon me and I looked down, finding this cuter than cute little bundle of laughter and mischief.

Piazza Banchi, Genova

I think one’s art goes as far and as deep as one’s love goes. I see no reason to paint but that.
Andrew Wyeth.

Exploring the depth of my love for a place seems like an inspiring reason to take photographs too.  There is more passion, more depth and emotion, when you turn your camera on something you love.

Piazza Banchi, the place where I buy my pink flowers when in Genova.  Taken one winter's night, January, 2012.

(Note: this was taken after the sun had gone down.  I spun my Canon EOS 5D MkII's ISO up to someplace around 6000 (thank you to Canon for this option) then handheld the camera to see what I might get without a flash or a tripod.)