The freedom to be free (with your personal watermelon) says it all. I hope everyone enjoyed the day. Recently in Current Affairs Category
The freedom to be free (with your personal watermelon) says it all. I hope everyone enjoyed the day.
June 10, 2009
I am only 21,547 days old. I can remember many of them, starting with swatting mosquitoes on the screen that covered the top of my baby crib. I can recall slithering out from under it and grasping the white crib's round rails as I slid to the floor landing atop the shag rug on which I loved to play. It was my first solo adventure and I didn't even know how to talk.
Of those thousands of days, the ones that are etched in my memory most, are days that I was traveling, changing my environment, making forays into areas beyond my comfort zone. By the time I was 30 years old I realized that a true adventure was one from which I might not return, but just that remote possibility excited neurons to forever sparkle in my memory. As a younger man my youthful eye was blind to many dangers in trips to places that now I give more thought before proceeding. Sometimes I escaped tragedy just by sheer luck, wandering into places and environments that I was not prepared to see and experience; I was fair game for the seemingly predatory nature of a sometimes harsh planet and her lurking inhabitants. But go I did, and I still want more.
With time however, the "comfort zone" changed too. I am tall, so I no longer am keenly excited to get in a sardine can of an airline for hours on end to get some place. A few years ago one such flight caused a DVT in my leg that brought all travel to a stop for four months. It is the terrible trick of nature that I still think more/less like I did when I had just 25 years behind me, but the body fails to keep up occasionally. So a little more caution was added to my travel potion but it generally the results in experiences continue to be just as exciting. I no longer SCUBA dive in 44 degree F. water as I did as a teenager, in fact many years later I came up with the lame formula of one's age plus 25 or 30 should be the minimum water temperature one should plunge. It does seem to work. I still go, but not on moonless nights in waters that Great White sharks are known to inhabit (it's too cold for me now! ;-)
My first parentally-sponsored solo travels came as a preteen, learning to sail in South San Francisco Bay. I had an eight foot El Toro with 45 sq. ft. of magnificent sail. It was my ticket to freedom within my small world. At 12 years of age, I commandeered this vessel across the full width of San Francisco Bay, probably about 6 miles further than I was allowed to go by my parents. So I found out that if I didn't tell them, and I made it back, then it was probably OK. So I didn't tell them for at least a dozen years. But in defense of my voyage of discovery, I was in my mind, fully prepared. Every bit as prepared as I have been on every trip since, it's just that my level of awareness of what preparations DO need to be done has changed. In retrospect as an adult I know I was woefully unprepared for that trip across the bay... I had not done a weather check, only told one friend, he was 11 years old, and really was just as clueless as me, I had no back up plan should something have gone awry (like the boat flipping and not being able to right it), many things left out. Fast forward many decades and a million miles.
My latest long solo journey was to Antarctica. I decided to go on the trip after I heard of a cancellation that freed a berth on a tired Russian ship that would be full of other like-minded photographers. I had nine days to prepare. Most on this trip had been preparing for well over a year! I had to move very quickly. I had gear arriving hours before my departure, and I would be gone over a month. Baggage checked, boarding pass in hand, I cleared security, only to see CANCELLED above my flight's gate. An ice storm in a connecting airport had brought down the whole house of cards. A day later I was back at the same gate, but this time I made it. I had prepared a cushion of several days in Buenos Aires for just such an emergency, and it paid off. I was booked in a cabin for two, but I had replaced a couple, so there was an extra bunk. I tried to get several friends to join me, but no luck. However one friend it turned out had a ranch in South America which I ended up visiting at the end of my voyage, a sublime experience that I will not elaborate on here as it is well documented already (search my web site for Estancia Alicura).
My point is, be persistent in your quest for new places and experiences. At first you might be alone, but soon enough you'll be with new friends enjoying a whole other world from their viewpoint. These events will alter the course of your life. My lost night before the start of my journey south cemented my relationship with my girl friend. We'll be married in two weeks. Hello world, here I come.
I am only 21,547 days old. I can remember many of them, starting with swatting mosquitoes on the screen that covered the top of my baby crib. I can recall slithering out from under it and grasping the white crib's round rails as I slid to the floor landing atop the shag rug on which I loved to play. It was my first solo adventure and I didn't even know how to talk.
Of those thousands of days, the ones that are etched in my memory most, are days that I was traveling, changing my environment, making forays into areas beyond my comfort zone. By the time I was 30 years old I realized that a true adventure was one from which I might not return, but just that remote possibility excited neurons to forever sparkle in my memory. As a younger man my youthful eye was blind to many dangers in trips to places that now I give more thought before proceeding. Sometimes I escaped tragedy just by sheer luck, wandering into places and environments that I was not prepared to see and experience; I was fair game for the seemingly predatory nature of a sometimes harsh planet and her lurking inhabitants. But go I did, and I still want more.With time however, the "comfort zone" changed too. I am tall, so I no longer am keenly excited to get in a sardine can of an airline for hours on end to get some place. A few years ago one such flight caused a DVT in my leg that brought all travel to a stop for four months. It is the terrible trick of nature that I still think more/less like I did when I had just 25 years behind me, but the body fails to keep up occasionally. So a little more caution was added to my travel potion but it generally the results in experiences continue to be just as exciting. I no longer SCUBA dive in 44 degree F. water as I did as a teenager, in fact many years later I came up with the lame formula of one's age plus 25 or 30 should be the minimum water temperature one should plunge. It does seem to work. I still go, but not on moonless nights in waters that Great White sharks are known to inhabit (it's too cold for me now! ;-)
My first parentally-sponsored solo travels came as a preteen, learning to sail in South San Francisco Bay. I had an eight foot El Toro with 45 sq. ft. of magnificent sail. It was my ticket to freedom within my small world. At 12 years of age, I commandeered this vessel across the full width of San Francisco Bay, probably about 6 miles further than I was allowed to go by my parents. So I found out that if I didn't tell them, and I made it back, then it was probably OK. So I didn't tell them for at least a dozen years. But in defense of my voyage of discovery, I was in my mind, fully prepared. Every bit as prepared as I have been on every trip since, it's just that my level of awareness of what preparations DO need to be done has changed. In retrospect as an adult I know I was woefully unprepared for that trip across the bay... I had not done a weather check, only told one friend, he was 11 years old, and really was just as clueless as me, I had no back up plan should something have gone awry (like the boat flipping and not being able to right it), many things left out. Fast forward many decades and a million miles.
My latest long solo journey was to Antarctica. I decided to go on the trip after I heard of a cancellation that freed a berth on a tired Russian ship that would be full of other like-minded photographers. I had nine days to prepare. Most on this trip had been preparing for well over a year! I had to move very quickly. I had gear arriving hours before my departure, and I would be gone over a month. Baggage checked, boarding pass in hand, I cleared security, only to see CANCELLED above my flight's gate. An ice storm in a connecting airport had brought down the whole house of cards. A day later I was back at the same gate, but this time I made it. I had prepared a cushion of several days in Buenos Aires for just such an emergency, and it paid off. I was booked in a cabin for two, but I had replaced a couple, so there was an extra bunk. I tried to get several friends to join me, but no luck. However one friend it turned out had a ranch in South America which I ended up visiting at the end of my voyage, a sublime experience that I will not elaborate on here as it is well documented already (search my web site for Estancia Alicura).My point is, be persistent in your quest for new places and experiences. At first you might be alone, but soon enough you'll be with new friends enjoying a whole other world from their viewpoint. These events will alter the course of your life. My lost night before the start of my journey south cemented my relationship with my girl friend. We'll be married in two weeks. Hello world, here I come.
For my friends celebrating the festival of Hanukkah today and for others with Christmas just ahead, I wish you all a new year of health and happiness. See you next week or in 2009.- Cheers!
Americans have much to be thankful for this year. A good turkey beats a lame duck any day. This one was flirting with me at Fort Louisbourg, Nova Scotia, Canada. She was very happy with me until I shot her 20 times (with the camera).
From the side of the Ann Richards Bridge (Congress Avenue) over Lady Bird Lake (formerly Town Lake) the Austin Rowing Club filled it's boats with picture perfect volunteers. The two ladies on the left were particularly photogenic just below me. 
A wide panorama of five images spanning almost 180 degrees. 25% of the net proceeds from the sale of the FLEET DAY photo on the right will go to the Austin Rowing Club as a contribution.
This is National Novel Writing Month if you were unaware. I only learned of the event last night in late evening reading in Macworld (thank you Jason Snell).
I have signed up and will in the next day or so formulate my plan to
write 50,000 words by the end of the month. Since I am a novice at
this, I will base it loosely on a detailed log (hand written) that I
kept in 1977 of some time in the Caribbean on an old sailing vessel.
More details as I imagine them on that.
Today, I have been working on images again, and this time from the city that has inspired a lot of novels in the past and present, New Orleans. I pasted through New Orleans last August on a fast trip from Georgia to Texas. I had one evening and one morning to take photographs. The image on the left of the cigar shop is a hand held HDR composition of five images, 1 EV apart from 1/15th/sec. to 1/250/sec at f/7.1, ISO 200, EF24-105mm f/4 IS mounted on a Canon 1Ds Mark III. Precisely at +29° 57' 29.73" N, -90° 3' 55.27" W, at 9:05 a.m. on August 11, 2008. I could spend weeks in this city taking photographs.
The one on the right is obviously from seven images in the same area. For the technically inclined these RAW images were all shot hand held, and aligned in Adobe Photoshop CS4 Extended as a "smart object" in the "stack mode". Then the maximum filter was applied to the stack mode. I love the contrast of the fellow walking in his dress whites against the vivid colors of the street. It is a great city and a fabulous place for photography, I hope she stays afloat. So much history is written on the walls of every building. 
Interpretation is an endless journey down each alley. The best of the city however was a late night visit to Cafe du Monde. Truly some things never change.
Last night my friends and I had the privilege of attending a talk and book signing of the "Belo Book" by Judith Garrett Segura. A history of the Belo Corporation and families involved in it. Here are a few photos from the event. Thank you Judith for a lovely evening with your friends and admirers. - Rusty
As of this posting I have moved my web log from TYPEPAD, which I liked very much, to my host server. Hopefully all the posts of the past year or so are still intact. Let me know if you see any problems. I am still tweaking the interface. - rj.
Colleville-sur-mer, Normandie, France. As Rudyard Kipling said "Lest we forget". I have not. I am grateful and I am proud of them all to this day.
also...
All we have of freedom, all we use or know -
This our fathers bought for us long and long ago.
~Rudyard Kipling, The Old Issue, 1899
