Printaphilic Phorum

May 16, 2015

#148 Report From The Northwest Dirt

Filed under: Uncategorized — printaphilic @ 5:08 pm

#148 Report From The Northwest Dirt

_DSC2452©WEB _DSC2455©WEB    After roughly 20 years of fully organic gardening almost entirely with hand tools, I enthusiastically embrace some aspects of mechanized agriculture.  Thanks again to Gene’s Machines of Lansing, NY, for a conscientious overhaul on the original engine of this 1987  made in USA  Troybilt Pony.  90+% of the time it starts on the first yank of the starter cord.  If it could get traction it could walk straight up a brick wall.  The successor company to the late TroyBilt still support it with technical info and some parts.

The cold tolerant crops are mostly in, poking up and appear to be thriving.

 

The milk and cider jugs with bottoms cut out make fine hotcaps to risk frost sensitive plants to early planting.

Confucius say :  ” Best fertilizer is footsteps of gardener.”     A little organic urea solution applied timely also helps.

_DSC2442©WEB

_DSC2456©WEB

_DSC2457©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The World Rests on the Back of a Turtle.”

“Yes,  but what does the Turtle stand on ?”

“No. sir,  you can’t catch me on that one…it’s Turtles, ALL THE WAY DOWN. ”

 

 

 

For some reason one variety of snow peas, “Dwarf White Sugar”   had far more consistent germination  than any other variety on the first planting.  I’m hoping to double snow pea production this year as it’s my favorite green crunchy.

Winter kill or my incompetent pruning took rather a toll in the vineyard this year.  All the exotic and some normally hardy native varieties suffered.

_DSC2460MOD©WEB      _DSC2450©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

Some, however have come through very strongly.

_DSC2468©WEB  _DSC2462©WEB

Intensive Care Unit: This exotic, a Muscat, is nearly dead.  I’d hate to lose it, so  it will get lots of TLC.  “Muscatel…it’s Swell.”

The orchard trees came thru the winter in pretty good shape with lovely blossoms on the Seckle pear. I really hope the pollinators got into the upper regions of this lovely tree because I’ve been carefully pruning ladder sets into it for several years to make for easy picking of this yummy variety.

_DSC2464©WEB _DSC2466©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A cluster of blossoms has appeared on a below graft root sucker of a Montmorancy cherry tree, a delicious ox blood fruit. Who knows what the root stock was and what these blossoms might make if pollinated ?  The general advice it to ruthlessly prune off root suckers, but I’m just a sucker to watch this sucker and see what it might become.

_DSC2467©WEB

I hate to say it, but the warm frame has progressed in a slightly negative, retrograde fashion.  I keep rethinking the design in my mind and am not sure I have the vitality to build it using the heavy thermopane door inserts. Perhaps, using the already dug foundation for a full height hoop house would get me more function for less cash and WAY less labor.   My labor is getting harder and harder to spend.

_DSC2438©WEBIt seems to be off to a good start of the year…just imagine what it will look like in August when I’ve run out of zeal and the weeds have over run it all.

‘Nuff for now:                                                                      Next Post:    I’m behind on commitment to the East Hill school pictures and the major stories from New Jersey last summer are almost lost in the flatfile.    I’ll see if I can catch up some.

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May 11, 2015

#147 Spring On The Owego/Candor Circuit

Filed under: Uncategorized — printaphilic @ 9:01 pm

#147  Spring On The Owego/Candor Circuit, a road loop.

After seeing the film “Salt of the Earth,” a bio-documentary of photographer Sabastiao Salgado, I just had to get out with my cameras.   You can make a case that Salgado is/was the worlds best social conscience photographer of the millennial transition era.  His transition to natural habitat restoration and nature study is hinted to be a result of spiritual burnout.   Look at his earlier work; you’ll know why.  I’d say he went looking at visionary humanity and later stumbled into hell.  No wonder he’s changed his life vector.

2407DarknessAtHeart©WEB

2407DarknessAtHeart©WEB

The film was nowhere near as good as its subject…but this isn’t a review.

2431RenewalAtOldBarnMOD1©WEB

2431RenewalAtOldBarnMOD1©WEB

 

My need to get out and working comes from too much daily detail.  It gets in the way.

2405Dead&TinderToo©WEB

2405Dead&TinderToo©WEB

I wanted to explore avenues to a different graphic look in my work.  In the 1980’s I put a great deal of time and energy to evolving a graphic style I could call my own, based on some simple technical choices…film, soup formula, filters, that were appropriate for the film era.  I got it, I can still use it, but now, in the digital realm, I want to evolve my own style in COLOR. This requires re-learning the craft.  Rather much of my trials of the last couple of years look kind of lame compared to contemporary norms.   Not that I’m joining the Hi-Impact/Low Information mainstream, but I do need to bring my technique into this century…sometimes.

2417InTheTimeOfDandilionWineFutures©WEB

 

2401EndOfTrail...Daffodils©WEB

2401EndOfTrail…Daffodils©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some efforts really suck at this stage of relearning…like, what happened to my hard earned sharpness on these re-formats for the blog page ?  The original hi res images look Super B page sharp.

Far more important than the technical problems is that I still can’t operate in the social world.  Sometimes I can see well…even perceive fairly well…but here I am working after all these years in a people-less universe.  Well, One thing at a time.

2430SpringOvercomes©WEB

2430SpringOvercomes©WEB

One trick is, one must enter the picture to the page at a resolution higher than one intends to use…then reduce.   If entering small, the pixels are already lost.

‘Nuff  for now:   Tomorrow is already overbooked.                                                Next post:   who knows…it could be a while

A few of these pictures may be worth printing for the Ithaca Artists Market in July.    The web frustrates me…but I DO print.

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January 24, 2015

# 146 It’s About Risk

Filed under: Thematic photoessay, Thoughts on Photography — printaphilic @ 9:25 pm
2361SwansCROPone©WEB

2361SwansCROPone©WEB

# 146   It’s About Risk…and benefit…and later on about privilege and even later about responsibility.

A couple of weeks ago a photography and art teacher I like and respect     http://www.jankatherphotography.com/ announced that she would be in a group show in Rochester, NY,  a town we used to associate with photography and FILM !  I decided I would go to her show opening to scope out the mainstream of academic photo-art.  Since it meant about five hours round trip on the road I would make a day of it spend as much time as possible before the evening  reception to do some photography for myself.  I’d even shoot some FILM.
The day and date of the trip was predetermined by the organizers of the show, so I made a place for the expedition on my calendar.   A couple of days before I noticed that my vehicle, a very venerable expeditioner,  had a loudly protesting alternator belt, and a positively bellowing exhaust note from a rotten muffler.  Should I make the trip anyway ?    The car has two alternator belts, and I’d once driven 1700 miles with no muffler at all…so I decided it was a GO.  I checked the official weather forecasts which assured me that I needn’t fear snow nor sleet nor gale nor gloom of night.
About an hour on the road it seemed that the NOAA weather forecast may have been a bit optimistic. Flurries filled the air and the cloud layer lowered.  I began to feel that this expedition was NUTS,  and began to have serious doubts.  I  was past the halfway point when the omens got UGLY.  I heard a little clink and discovered that a lens had spontaneously fallen out of my reading glasses. No glasses…no road map reading !  (It wasn’t really spontaneous, but that’s another story.)  A nearly microscopic screw had come loose from the lens holder and fallen into my lap.  The lens wouldn’t stay put without it.  I pulled over to the roadside,  found the tiny part in my skivvies and spent  an anxious half hour trying to re-connect it.  I could barely see the damn thing.  After all…I couldn’t wear my glasses and fix them simultaneously.  All the screwdriver blades  on my Swiss Army knife were huge by comparison.  I even tried making a tiny screwdriver out of a paperclip.  Finally, after near despair,  I thought outside the box sufficiently to just wrap the damn assembly in a rubber band and start back on the route. But by now I was really spooked.

2338CharlotteGenesseeLightMOD©WEB

2338CharlotteGenesseeLightMOD©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here I was, driving a 2 1/2 hour leg in deteriorating winter weather in a voting-aged 265,000 mile vehicle making ominous noises.  Am I NUTS ?  Why am I doing this ?  What can I possibly gain from risking a car  I can barely afford to repair, much less replace.  If this sucker dies on the road it will cost more than a months income to get home…and this, just to see a selection of photos on a college art gallery wall ?  What kind of Wacko does this ??
The privilege of my situation came flooding over me.  I can take a whole day…commit resources like a third of a year for a family in agrarian societies just on this wacko whim to see a few pictures of the world… and make a few as crutches for my memory as the ones in my brain case begin to slip away.   As for taking pictures on  my own , I could almost as well have cruised the ground using Google Earth rather than driving all this way in person.  How can I justify this ?   I’m using my privilege.  I’m committed now, but what kind of responsibility goes along with it ?

I’m coming inexorably to feel that all privilege comes with responsibilities that sometimes we can’t understand.
When I found I was unable to address this vast a question I was entering the suburban outskirts of the metropolis, had traffic to deal with, and could only feel that for some reason I really* wanted to see the show and might as well follow the plan I’d made a few day earlier…using Google Earth.  BUT…something is compelling me to actually be there…not looking through the insect eyes of the Google Cruisers, but through my own.
I successfully navigated to my first of four possible sites of interest, a park at the narrows where Irondequoit Bay joins Lake Ontario.  What I found  was far more interesting than what I’d been able to see using Google Earth.  There’s a seasonal bridge to the other side of the bay (interesting engineering ),  a gaggle…not a google…of geese trying make the best of the day,  a fine ice covered sand  beach and a fine, scrupulously clean,  all year round hamburger grill and ice cream stand feeding a gaggle of old foggies  (sp?) like me.  The ominous weather had found some other locale to intimidate, and I wandered, taking pictures until cold enough for hot chocolate.

I-819-45IceOnRocksIrondiquoit05©WEB

I-819-45IceOnRocksIrondequoit05©WEB

 

I-819-39FieldOfIceFlowsAshore02©WEB

I-819-39FieldOfIceFlowsAshore02©WEB

The second possible photo site turned out barren…It had looked so interesting on the web,  but I moved on to the Port of Rochester, thinking it might add to my theme of working waterfronts.  It may yet, but currently it’s  closed for the season and largely icebound.  The ice became the focus, and gradually revealed hidden threads in the cables of my thought.

I-819-55BendOnIceRoad05©WEB

I-819-55BendOnIceRoad05©WEB

Stories have  been explored about the Inuit native peoples notion that when a person becomes  too old and perhaps too weak to carry their fair share of the tribal community’s work,  a time comes when they are obliged to go out walking on the ice…a journey from which they may never return.   This idea has even found its way into North Sea European folklore…to go out on the ice in joyous spirit of exploration even when it may well mean individual death…from cold, weakness, laying down to take a final rest, then sleep with no awakening.   This is the responsibility that follows on the privilege of living in the warmth of the tribe.   I don’t necessarily buy this 100%, but I can’t ignore it.
At the mouth of the Genessee I didn’t realize the metaphor I walking until I was well out on the rather long jetty to the outer light marker.

I-819-65BeginningIceRoad03©WEB

I-819-65BeginningIceRoad03©WEB

It started with just a tiny slip close to land when I wasn’t yet even out beside the field of jumbled floes. For milliseconds my feet are disconnected from the earth.  The ice was lovely, a moonscape with stellar reflections for highlights.  But, that tiny slip reminded me that I’m no longer an agile thirty something…that every step risked a fall that could dislocate a joint or crack a knee.  In a very minor way I’d embarked on the ice road.   I was standing on a twelve foot wide concrete and steel pier, and wire rope lifelines were threaded thru stanchions only a few feet apart, but the further from shore I got the less was the dominion of human engineering and more the realm of the ice.

I-819-53IceOnLifeline04©WEB

I-819-53IceOnLifeline04©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once I slipped and grabbed the lifeline with both well gloved hands and easily recovered my footing before noticing that the spacing of the lower line was such that someone…surely not me… could slide under it, over the edge and into the freezing lake where their shocked  life expectancy would be a handful of minutes.  Rescue ladders were few and far between.   Sometimes the footing was the most treacherous right beside the handlines, forcing the choice of walking unsupported in the middle.   At least the pier was not a ship’s deck rolling and pitching in a seaway.  Something*  was making me go further and further out. Something* gave me long pause at a break in the web of the lifelines where it would be possible to get off* the pier and actually out onto the ice itself !

I-819-67GatewayToLandOfIce04©WEB

I-819-67GatewayToLandOfIce04©WEB

 

2357SprayIncoming©WEB

2357SprayIncoming©WEB

 

?  Were those packed, jumbled floes floating on the lake or resting on the bottom of a shelving shore.?  Looking back, I had between me and the park maybe half a mile of  what the Shackleton and the tragic Scott expeditions had faced for days on end.   I got close enough to the outer light to know that I was close enough !

2351EndIceRoad©WEB

2351EndIceRoad©WEB

 

I wasn’t required to risk the last fifty yards.   There was nothing more to be gained, and the distance back was near the limits of my arthritic hips.   On the way back to shore I passed a courting couple…walking out for a lark.   Young bones and reflexes are not old ones.   I’d risked far more.   It was worth it…What’s out there on the ice is NOT on Google Earth.

I-819-51SparyOnIceCharlotteThree03©WEB

I-819-51SprayOnIceCharlotteThree03©WEB

2361SwansCROPpixels©WEB

2361SwansCROPpixels©WEB

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I-819-57EndOfIceRoad01©WEB

I-819-57EndOfIceRoad01©WEB

2341.USCGstationRochesterjpg©WEB

2341.USCG stationRochester©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

? The show…?   Oh yes, the show….it was fine…lots of photographer looking at mirrors.   One picture, seen thru a window, was chilling….human teeth scattered on the ground in the Cambodian killing fields.

 

‘Nuff for now:

     Next Post:   It may be a few weeks before the next effort.  I’m still in writers block on two pieces in the pipeline and have to take some time off for some medical tinkering.

 

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January 3, 2015

#145 Another Quickie…actually it took weeks.

Filed under: Uncategorized — printaphilic @ 3:03 pm

#145   Another Quickie…actually it took weeks.

It looked a lot like something to have for a holiday dinner.

2228Creekside©WEB

2228Creekside©WEB

After laboriously plucking all the feathers, coat uniformly with wet gesso, then shake in a bag with flour and seasonings until completely covered.

2203InWhite©WEB

2203InWhite©WEB

Bake in very slow oven just long enough to make it dry and tough.

There !   That looks like it’s been in the oven long enough.

2401TimeToTakeOutOfOven©WEB

? Anyone care to carve ??

2181LightenUpDuckCROP©WEB

2181LightenUpDuckCROP©

Happy New Year to the guy whose first word in English was “Duckies.”

 

‘Nuff Silliness for now:                                                                Next Post:    It may be a while.  A major piece is in the pipeline that will take us back to New Jersey in a time two hundred years ago.

December 29, 2014

#144 A Quickie Ten From Madison Christmas

Filed under: Uncategorized — printaphilic @ 11:17 am

#144  A Quickie Ten From Madison Christmas

Everyone was pretty much nose to grindstone at first, but I escaped for a four hour hike, hoping to find the land of ice fishing.

2463IceFishingInHeatWave

2463IceFishingInHeatWave

There was a heat wave.  You’d walk on that stuff to your peril.

 

When a break came in the work time we warmed up the season with a visit to Madison’s wonderful Olbrich Botanical Garden.   What’s Christmas without a train under a tree, presents and a mob of kids?

 

 

2466legostrain-kids-pointsettia.jpg

2466legostrain-kids-poinsetia.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the Olbrich the featured exhibit was a room full of garden railways, poinsettias, and the results of a mob of big kids turned loose with a pickup truck load of Legos.

 

 

The grown ups had as much fun as the kids, but we quickly escaped into the moist, tropical conservatory where birds flew in their huge, verdant cage and everyone threw coins to the fish in the  pools.

 

2484KoiInFalls©WEB

2484KoiInFalls©WEB

 

2485TropicalInWinter©WEB

2485TropicalInWinter©WEB

Outside it was hardly wintery and under bright overcast some of the colors jumped forward to put the golden Thai (Hmong) meditation pavilion in a perfect frame.

 

 

 

 

 

2498ThaiMeditationPavillion©WEB

2498ThaiMeditationPavillion©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We think  of winter as a colorless time, but a walk around the Upper Cherokee River preserve convinces otherwise.

2514CherokeeRiverRestoration©WEB

2514CherokeeRiverRestoration©WEB

Every one else had to go back to their grindstones, but the cameras demanded that I wander along  a bit more alone.  For several years I’ve been chewing my cogitative cud on the notion of “Aulde Stounes”  (‘old stones‘)  as meditation points when searching for enduring values. The 1934 WIRA masonry works that enclose the spring which gives it’s name to Madison’s Spring Harbor neighborhood has escaped me for years. I simply could never find the right camera angle for this structure.  Only those who have visited the site can place this picture in its historic and hydraulic context.  Sometimes we just can’t get it all into just one picture.    http://www.madisonpreservation.org/2012/11/merrill-springs-park/

2524SpringHarborPoolMasonry1934©WEB

2524SpringHarborPoolMasonry1934©WEB

Further along the shoreline a favorite spot…always so peaceful here…stay a while…even when I must move on.

2533SpringHarborMendotaWinterBeach©WEB

2533SpringHarborMendotaWinterBeach©WEB

…Still getting used to my new eyes.   There are friends who’ve never seen me without glasses.   With the cataracts gone my irises simply cannot stop down enough that my optic nerves are not overwhelmed by straight sunlight. My inherent color balance is new.  I still wanna be a photographer when I grow up…if I can have it both ways.

 

‘Nuff for now…other work calls.

Next post:   There’s another quickie in the pipeline before  returning more laborious substantive subjects.   Stop back in a week or so.

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2473SelfieMADxmas14©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

December 5, 2014

#144 Just Sayin’

Filed under: Uncategorized — printaphilic @ 3:06 pm

#144  Just Sayin’

Tompkins County friends: Monday 8 Dec and Fri., 12 Dec. ( possibly Mon.,15 Dec. as well) I’ll be showing selection prints from sixty years of doing photography as part of the Alternatives FCU Holiday Market. The show will be nominally open from 9:30am until 3pm closing in the downstairs main room of the credit union. I’m looking for a couple of volunteers, one each day, to spell me at my display so I can grab a bite to eat and make a pit stop. Prints will be for sale, including some inexpensive bargains like “Non Carpe Diem.”

0066NonCarpeDiem

0066NonCarpeDiem

November 29, 2014

#143 I Was Looking For Something Else, But This Is What I Got.

Filed under: Uncategorized — printaphilic @ 3:08 pm

#143 I Was Looking For Something Else, But This Is What I Got.

#142 The Wizard Returns, Then and Now

Filed under: Just gotta say it., Thematic photoessay, Thoughts on Photography — printaphilic @ 10:56 am

#142 The Wizard Returns, Then and Now

 

Minus017-01WizardInGarbageland03©WEB

Minus017-01WizardInGarbageland03©WEB

Just a few months shy of 50 years ago I began a project that came to be called “The Wizard In Garbageland.” It was a photoessay about the New Jersey meadows shot mostly during the spring term of 1965 while I was studying ‘photojournalism’ ( a class that had nothing to do with the real shoulder monkey) with the late Joseph Briechtenbach at the New School For Social Research in NYC.

Minus018-17YachtClubDogsGreenPointHoboken05©WEB

Minus018-17YachtClubDogsGreenPointHoboken05©WEB

 

Minus018-85OldBulldog06©WEB

Minus018-85OldBulldog06©WEB–Enduring Mack truck.

I’d wandered around the meadows region with my friend Z. Arktos and our cameras both before and after the New School spring term and it has been our intent ever since to return to work on this again . A half century of life has intervened. Our life ties are now elsewhere. I had no idea at the time that as an august a true photojournalist as Bruce Davidson was working on the same subject at the same time…a minor parenthesis in his vitea.

2112SawtoothRoof©WEB

2112SawtoothRoof©WEB–A feature of old style industrial architecture to maximize natural north  light and optimize heating and cooling by sun and wind.

 

 

Minus018-67SecurityHole03©WEB

Minus018-67SecurityHole03©WEB

The entire region of northern New Jersey east of the Watchung ridge was regarded by sophisticated society as a vast cesspool…a charge not without foundation. The mineral, chemical and biological trashing of the region had proceeded, heedless, for a century. The environmental movement of the time probably just wrote the area off as a lost cause. Near the end of the century Robert Sullivan’s wonderful 1998 account of his explorations, “The Meadowlands,” (ISBN 0-684-83285-2) shows some signs that people were waking up to the importance of the region and we began to hear tales of artists lofts in former slaughterhouses and luxury housing with sunset views of the Manhattan skyline rising from the asbestos laden ashes of the Todd Shipyard in Hoboken.

Minus020-71GreenPointYClongShot03©WEB

Minus020-71GreenPointYClongShot03©WEB

In 1965 I was working with a Leica IIIf with 50mm Summitar lens for B&W (obsolete even) and the groundbreaking Nikon F with it’s awful 43-86mm zoom lens for various color slide films. Almost none of the color slides survived poor storage conditions seemed to actively encourage emulsion eating fungus growth. The B&W negatives, processed in various kitchens and bathrooms, fared only somewhat better. They have required extensive digital reconstruction after scanning.
Looking back at that old student work I’m heartstricken that I, at the time, so badly missed the point. I photographed the pollution, the garbage, the industries, the economic foundations of the metropolitan area, curiosities and such pockets of natural beauty as I could find, but Utterly Clueless, I did almost nothing interactively with the people I encountered there. There were a few exceptions. I realized the omission just a week or so before the term project was due…too late to shift emphasis. Now, much of that society is utterly gone.

Minus026-44NapTimeInRailroadYMCA04©WEB

Minus026-44NapTimeInRailroadYMCA04©WEB

 

Minus018-69GuysAtThePlant04©WEB

Minus018-69GuysAtThePlant04©WEB

During my most recent trip to New Jersey there was no option to go looking for interaction with people. The trip was already drastically over budget for time, money and metabolic energy; I had but hours and half a tank of gas before the need to beeline for home.

 

2075UnderBellevillePike©WEB

2075UnderBellevillePike©WEB

2074NewarkFromBellevillePike©WEB

2074NewarkFromBellevillePike©WEB

 

2076ArtUnderPike©WEB

2076ArtUnderPike©WEB

 

 

 

 

Still the comparisons were interesting. I spent my budget in the town of Harrison, interesting because it was an area I’d under-explored half a century ago that then contained some of the most dense concentration of fundamental industry on which the economy of the greater New York metropolitan area so heavily depended. What will it do now ? Also of interest, then and now, were the bridges connecting the City of Newark by rail lines to New York City. What had become of them…how had they fared ?

 

(spacer)

Minus023-17RRliftBridges@Kearny04©WEB

 

 

Minus023-17RRliftBridges@Kearny04©WEB  2114HouseAboveRooftops©WEB

2114HouseAboveRooftops©WEB
http://www.en.wikipedea.org/wiki/Dock_Bridge

(spacer)
In the different world of 1965 we were ignored while wandering around such places with our cameras, but on this trip, using a “prosumer” digital SLR and some serious looking lenses, I was thoroughly vetted by a security agent after ignorantly pointing my lens a Federal office building.  After a few initial questions convinced him I was no terrorist this contractors agent was outright friendly and told me lots about the history of the bridge. I was astounded to discover that it’s still considered so vital to the area transport infrastructure that it’s currently undergoing a major overhaul to remain in service another 50 or more years.

2127TrollEyeView©WEB

2127TrollEyeView©WEB

2120PensyRRbridgeOverPassiacR©WEB

2120PensyRRbridgeOverPassiacR©WEB

 

 

 

Not all the area is held so esteemed. Vast areas are in progress of condominization.

2099CondoizationHarrison©WEB

2099CondoizationHarrison©WEB

At least in the hours I could explore, all traces of working waterfronts seemed utterly gone.

 

 

 

Minus020-04CommercialVesselOnHackensack©WEB

Minus020-04CommercialVesselOnHackensack©WEB–~1970. “Black Cloud” of ‘St. Pete’, FLA  ? What was her cargo ?

In past years of riding commuter trains from the suburbs further inland across the meadows to Ferry crossings to Manhattan made me familiar with some of the basic industries. The ferry boats are long gone; you take “the Tubes.”

 

 

 

 

 

Minus026-35GravelBargesOnHackensack03©WEB

Minus026-35GravelBargesOnHackensack03©WEB

Minus025-72StacksAndTanks06©WEB

Minus025-72StacksAndTanks06©WEB

Minus018-75AbandonedPRRferryTerminalJerseyCity01©WEB

Minus018-75AbandonedPRRferryTerminalJerseyCity01©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In this place my grandfather and great uncle loaded lumber on a one horse buckboard and hauled it to a building site in Nutley.Minus026-50KoppersCoke03©WEB

 

Minus026-50KoppersCoke03©WEB

2147FuelStorageOffMcCarterHwy©WEB  In this place my grandfather and great uncle

loaded lumber on a one horse buckboard and hauled it to

2068AbandonedIndustrialSpur©WEB

2068AbandonedIndustrialSpur©WEB

2142RootsEatConcrete©WEB

2142RootsEatConcrete©WEB

a building site in Nutley, NJ

2153WarehouseBecomesParking©WEB

2153WarehouseBecomesParking©WEB

 

 

44BasculeBridgeOpen©WEB

44BasculeBridgeOpen©WEB — Open, abandoned, maybe never to be used again.

It’s clear that many of these industries were environmental bad actors. A great deal of labor strife accompanied their prosperity. The often nameless and incomprehensible forces of the economy move on. Clearly the financial world feels that society needs the condo housing which is taking over the area. All the people will still need jobs…what will they do in the future when all the basic industries have moved off shore and there’s a great Red Bull of a sports stadium where the jobs used to be. ? Sell hot dogs ??

 

Minus026-36FireIn YardDunnage05©WEB

Minus026-36FireIn YardDunnage05©WEB

Minus020-57AlongPennzyMainline06©WEB

Minus020-57AlongPennzyMainline06©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Minus026-61MainlineThruMeadows02©WEB

Minus026-61MainlineThruMeadows02©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Minus022-67Lanterns02©WEB

Minus022-67Lanterns02©WEB

 

‘Nuff for Now: another job calls me away.                                               Next Post: There’s a really extensive piece in the pipeline about industry in the New Jersey Pine Barrens from colonial and revolutionary times forward.  It may be weeks before it’s finished.

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2086PipelineParallelPike©WEB

2086PipelineParallelPike©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

October 31, 2014

#141 markets, Markets, MARKETS

Filed under: Uncategorized — printaphilic @ 11:50 am

#141 markets, Markets, MARKETS

Agoraphobia is the fear of markets, also exposed places and crowds. It can be pretty darn incapacitating. It seems to be the bane of almost everyone who wants to think of themselves as an artist.

      http://www.tedorland.com/artandfear/

 

We have to spend enormous amounts of our psychic energy on marketing when we’d really much rather just be making the art and having people enjoy it. Somehow we should magically be supported (economically) without having to face the hassles of marketing nor the fear of rejection that comes from showing our work in competition.  Some of this fear isn’t groundless. In most markets there are big fish. Often they get that way by eating the small fry…maybe us. It’s not paranoia when they are really after you.

 

©2102RemakeLegoResaleMODWEB

©2102RemakeLegoResaleMODWEB

 

I started becoming agoraphobic during a college years summer job as a gopher for a Wall Street firm whose practices were, to say the least, shady.   The CEO narrowly escaped a three year term on federal securities violations by copping a plea that blew the whistle on even bigger fish…who probably also copped pleas. I came away convinced that no small fish should EVER enter some kinds of markets.

When it became apparent that buyers where not coming, searching under bushes and rocks, to pay high prices for my work, I was forced to start confronting my own market fears and to begin actively studying markets of all kinds…used cars, apartment rents, labor, collector cameras, software, commercial real estate, agricultural commodities, prescription dope, mining futures, corrosion resistant metals.

Not all are easily studied…six years later very bright economists are still trying to decipher the details of funny money mortgage derivative scams and hustles.   My own studies of markets haven’t been helped much by reading classic works about them. Mostly, that stuff is pretty theoretical and abstruse. I’ve needed to get real, so on a fine autumn morning I strode forth in the vastness of the Englishtown, and Collingwood, New Jersey flea market arenas.   My favorite local flea market, FOUND in Ithaca, is dwarfed by these Temples of Stuff.

 

©2101GlareOfMorningWEB

©2101GlareOfMorningWEB

Englishtown is almost as daunting as the Cancha of Cochabamba, Bolivia, where I hadn’t sufficient command of Quechua or local Castillano dialects to carry on complex negotiations. Some markets transcend language…you point…you count on your fingers…the vendor shrugs her shoulders, strangely colorful paper goes from hand to and somehow a transaction happens. Microsoft standard English is not the dominant language of Englishtown.

  • ©2118MetaphysicalRetailWEB

    ©2118MetaphysicalRetailWEB

     

  • ©2109AsianCarvingsOldWEB

Certainly, for me, the fear level is lower when I’m the potential buyer. Little need be at risk, as opposed to selling in such markets when sudden turns of the weather can damage kilodollars worth of my prints, and the very rental of space and finance charges make for a high ‘break even’ line. When just wandering in flea markets it’s possible just to enjoy the day and watching the people. I did have some wonderful conversations with vendors. The guy selling these asian carvings claimed to be a complete neophyte, first day vendor.   The works appeared to be very old and clearly hand carved. Neither of us were knowledgeable enough to even guess what era or culture they came from. He said he’d gotten them as partial settlement of a bad rental debt. He thought they might be really valuable and worth the price of the market table just to see what he could learn about them by talking with passers by. Caveat Emptor…was the guy on the level ?   Who knows ?

©2109AsianCarvingsOldWEB

 

 

©2108BrightMexicanSkullsWEB

©2108BrightMexicanSkullsWEB

I think that some of the proliferation of flea markets, particularly during fair weather has to do with the fun of human contact.   This makes me a litle less afraid.   Some of it results from people just trying to generate a little cash, but also, maybe, to cope with the excesses of our Religion of Stuff.

 

©2121PanoramaOfStuffWEB

©2121PanoramaOfStuffWEB

For a couple of decades a great deal of our collective political discourse has been… ! in the face of considerable evidence to the contrary !…steered by the notion that the operation of free markets by natural laws of economics will fix all problems.

Bullshit, methinks.   Free markets are usually figments of imagination and even when they are approximately free   ( ? compared to what ? ) they are still propelled mostly by thoughts and feelings of people…six billion or so of them with often little overlap of beliefs and assumptions.   You’re claiming there are natural laws governing this ?

Go figure.

I did…and figured I had only enough cash left in the budget to buy a few used music CDs…one jewel case turned out to be empty…was the vendor a crook ?…I’d only bought the label…caveat emptor all over again.   My bad.     I had a fine negotiation over a set of classical guitar strings with a senora whose command of proppa English (cf. Minnesota Fats) was better than my Spanish. I ended up buying a set of top of the line performance strings for just nickels more than the going rate for cheap practice sets. We concluded with considerable good will and smiles.   On the way out I discovered to my surprise that New Jersey, the Garden State is not completely paved over with malls and oil refineries.   There is still commercial agriculture and it’s harvest season.

 

©2110LocalOnlyApples

©2110LocalOnlyApples

How ya’ like dem apples ?

When I die, bury me low… Where I can hear da petroleum flow

A sweeter sound I never did know… den da rolling mills of New Joisey

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nuff for now…bread’s raising and needs kneading.  ? How do I get some dough outta dis ?                  Next post: at least two more posts in the pipeline from my recent trip to New Jersey.

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October 22, 2014

#140 Maybe I’ll Get Back To Trying To Make Sense Of It All, But Now…Off to New Jersey

Filed under: Just gotta say it., Thematic photoessay — printaphilic @ 8:10 pm

#140 Maybe I’ll Get Back To Trying To Make Sense Of It All, But Now…Off to New Jersey

Before the Columbus Day weekend I took a nearly week long trip for field operations in New Jersey, both in the town where I grew up and in southern parts of the state which inspire the locales of my photo-roman in progress, and stock for editorial themes.  Altogether I shot about  3  gigabytes of pictures and made volumes of audio notes.  It will be a while until I can process and publish them all in small packets.

One primary reason for the trip was the gathering of the Montclair High School class of 1959 for our  55th reunion.  I avoided these reunions for years until I went to the 40th and discovered what fun it could be.  I’ll try to get back in the swing of regular posting with a few pictures colored outside the lines from the reunion.  One of our classmate spouses  (plural ‘spice’ ? ) took bazillions of pix of our people in various groupings, so I decided to follow the school of “Silent Witness,”  where no people appear.

We’ll start with a view everyone from any Montclair class will remember…

 

EdgemontMemorialWEB

EdgemontMemorialWEB

 

 

 

©1978FormerSmallBusinesSitesWEB

FormerSmallBusinesSitesWEB

 

…But who can recall what local businesses got their modest start in these garage bays.

…Boys who played little league ball…Can you remember the old backstop that  once was here ?     Which was your team and position ?

LittleLeagueBallFieldTodayWEB

Where were you going when you passed thru the Walnut St. underpass?

 

 

 

UnderWearyErieWEB

UnderWearyErieWEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The reunion itself was drenched in memory and it was truly fitting that the committee  chose Eagle Rock Park, which overlooked the devastation of 911, and has a collection pointers to that tragedy,  for a ceremony recounting the names of classmates who have pre-deceased us.  We are of an age when they become more frequent and numerous.

 

Origina911SteelAtEagleRockMemorialWEB

Origina911SteelAtEagleRockMemorialWEB

The reading of the names and sounding the gong…this time for our own.

ClassOf1959At911MemorialWEB

ClassOf1959At911MemorialWEB

MoreNamesInBlackStoneWEB

MoreNamesInBlackStoneWEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The banquet space, a former speakeasy resurrected from ruins, looked out to that spot where people watched the New York skyline, and the world, change forever.

It’s a very classy place today…classy enough for our class of ’59 to talk,  feast and PARTY.

©2047ViewFromBanquetHallWEB

ViewFromBanquetHallWEB

 

©2049WonderfulDeeJayWEB

WonderfulDeeJayWEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Would you believe our DeeJay could get these old fossil bones of mine out on the dance floor for “That Good Old Rock an’ Roll Music.”    He did, and more.

 

 

‘Nuff for Now:    I’ll be trying to post on other aspects of the trip as time goes along. Perhaps I’ll even get back to trying to make sense of it all.

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