A (Nearly) Random Selection Of Unedited Summer Images

I would like to post some photographs from the latter part of this summer, but I'm too busy/lazy/unsatisfied with Photoshop Elements to edit them at the moment. As a result, I will simply put up the inferior JPEG versions that were imported into iPhoto, and worry about it later.

These are basically just the photos that caught my eye when I decided to create this post 5 minutes ago. More to come, perhaps?

In Boston, Alicia and I got stuck at the harbor during an intense thunderstorm. When a tanker appeared in the mist, it was decidedly epic.

My friend Lillian is beautiful, although she is very picky about photographs taken of her. Like many of us, I suppose. I liked this one.

In Montreal, I met a Russian girl named Karina, hailing from Kazan. It was nice to have an opportunity to speak Russian with someone not in my family, and we had lots of fun.

MONTREAL FASHION FESTIVAL:

Abs of STEEEEEEEEEEL! And apparently, I am not completely incapable of utilizing the silly little flash unit on my camera.

A fashion show/dance performance. This shot is a little bizarre, eh?

A babushka look-alike makes an appearance on the Ottawa streets!

My lovely Spanish friend Ariadna at the not-terribly-thrilling Mont-Tremblant resort.

THE CITY OF MONTREAL:

That woman is a prostitute/drug addict, in case you were wondering. She told me so.

There are a lot of young people like this in Montreal, all of them with German shepherds and gigantic backpacks. Are they runaways, homeless people, travelers?

I got to live with this puppy for 2 weeks! If only he'd been house trained...

In case you were wondering, Santa lives in the Quartier Latin of Montreal.

ENTERTAINING MYSELF IN A PET STORE:

Kittens are such camera whores.

A frog on a mission.

The scruffiest creature I've ever seen. This bird is my soulmate.

A group of...whatever they are, posing for the camera. Yes, posing - they intentionally gathered all together on the perch like that. "Group shot, everybody, say cheeeeeeese!"

An odd sight.

BACK AT HOME:

My mother's smile lights up the heavens.

Vika peering - a common sight at our house. In this case, she is worrying about the state of the rose bush.

My grandmother looking stately in Provincetown.

An adorable child at the playground.

What Public Radio Means To Me

Dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, duuuuuuum

That little melody, whether in the brassy tones of a trumpet section or the velvety syncopations of a jazz ensemble, has been a staple in my life since childhood. When I was younger, I would hear it emanating from my mother's car radio, followed by crisp and to-the-point voices announcing current events, or the melodic elegance of classical music. As I grew older, I became familiar with many of the voices, recognizing them as one recognizes an old friend. Terry Gross, Ira Glass, Michelle Norris - each of these names brings up the memory of some fascinating program or another.

I have discovered that even if a program covers a topic that doesn't usually interest me, I am intrigued by the various perspectives and intelligent analysis offered on NPR. The media is almost bereft of impartial journalism these days, but NPR continues to support a large variety of opinions, with an innate trust of the listener's intelligence. On NPR, the programs are neither dumbed-down nor pretentiously esoteric, allowing for a broad, diverse audience.

I have always been interested in the media, and am continually exploring both its negative and positive effects. Its influence fascinates me, both due to its omnipresence and to the incredible potential that it possesses. I believe that one of the most important things for our society to focus on is the decrease of negative media, such as product placement and the touting of gigantic corporate entities, and the increase of positive media, such as that which supports local businesses, spreads unbiased information, and helps to improve people's lives.

The catalyst for my interest in media, however, is my fascination with people: how they think, why they behave in the way that they do, and why they make the choices that they make. I believe that one of the main reasons that I adore literature, cinema, and other arts is because they attempt to answer these questions, or at least to consider them. Journalism provides a way to take that analysis and bring it into the real world, learning directly from people.

While I was in New York this summer, my goal was mainly to improve my photographic skills by learning techniques and doing a lot of photography. Without even realizing it, I ended up with a project that focused on interviews and the words of people in the city, creating something that was far more journalistic than it was artistic. This is how I came to understand that, in my life, I hope to pursue a career that allows me to actually interact with and learn about people, and hopefully gives me the opportunity to help them. In fact, I hope that my personal life provides me with the same opportunities.

Public radio is a form of journalism unlike any other. It conveys information to the listener without the benefits of visuals, bringing a story to life with the help of good writing and sounds captured from a previous moment in time. I am very grateful for its existence in my life.

Hi, My Name Is Masha, And I Am An Agnostic

I sometimes feel that the ability to think is no less important in my life than the ability to breathe. It is my greatest asset and my greatest obstacle, the thing that sustains me while simultaneously destroying me. It allows me to rethink the past and imagine the future, but it can just as easily contort them both in the worst way possible.

I get a thrill from complex thought unlike any other; when I begin to mull over something I feel strongly about, it is as if, after a long, dark winter, the curtains are being thrown open to reveal sunshine and brilliant flora. Despite the literary orientation of thought shared by most of my family, I am just as interested in discussions of politics, religion, and scientific innovations as in those about books, films, and works of art. Not to say that I am an expert in any of these fields (as I most certainly am not), but I find that informing myself about the thoughts and interests of others, and discovering the ways in which people structure their lives, is incredibly fascinating. I suppose that it all comes down to an interest in human psychology. I choose to avoid the realms of black and white, preferring to dwell in unknown territories, avoiding judgment as much as possible. My research has led me to believe that the word "agnostic" defines me in basically every aspect of my existence. And, to be clear, here are the sorts of definitions to which I am referring:

AGNOSTICISM |agˈnästəˌsizəm|
noun
- The theory that the ultimate problems of philosophy and religion are insoluble (http://www.willdurant.com/glossary.htm)
- The disbelief in any claims of ultimate knowledge (http://wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn?s=agnosticism)

And here is exactly the kind of (rather typical, might I add) definition that I find to be biased, overly general, and absolutely patronizing:

- A suspension of belief in gods and theism, especially of named gods, arguing generally a lack of proof, whether by reason or evidence. Stopping short of atheism, it is a convenient position for both philosophers and laymen, especially where persecution is a threat. The term was introduced by the Darwinian evolutionist, Thomas Henry Huxley in the 19th C. (http://www.grazian-archive.com/quantavolution/Encyclopedia/encqnt4.htm)

Yes, of COURSE - I choose to remain open-minded to a variety of viewpoints because I am lazy and it happens to be "convenient." Or perhaps I am simply afraid of taking sides, because, God forbid, I might offend somebody!

If I were afraid of being judged, it would probably be simpler just to pick a side and stick with it, wouldn't it? At least that way I would have a large group of people to defend my viewpoint! Instead, I prefer to avoid labels such as 'good' and 'evil', 'fact' and 'fiction', 'right' and 'wrong'. I treat my life like a legal case - all sides on all issues are constantly presenting evidence, and I give greater credence to the side that I feel has formed a better argument. However, this does not mean that I completely discount the argument presented by the other side, because (I assume) there will never be a time when all the evidence will have been presented. Either I will die without ever finding out the truth, or the truth will reveal itself eventually.

I am just as opposed to gnostic atheism as I am to gnostic theism. I do not believe in the concept of "knowing for sure, because The Bible/science/my parents/my society told me so." All of these things have much to offer, but none of them should be taken as a given. They are all unstable, their messages changing over time and in different contexts, making them incapable of providing a complete, inarguable answer to anything.

It's funny, this is not really what I meant to write about. I wanted to talk about the effect of the books I've been reading (Madame Bovary), the television shows (Six Feet Under) and films (Psycho, Farewell) that I've been watching, and the classes that I've been taking (a million varieties of French, Russian Themes in World Cinema, and a silly-but-probably-amusing-and-also-requirement-fulfilling My Body, My Health class) on my thought processes. I love the song "Little Boxes," but I do not necessarily believe that the people who go to university are being put in boxes, little boxes all the same. The necessity of fitting the mold began long before university; I haven't found a box to contain me yet, so I don't think that higher education will change that.

Perhaps I am still a sheep, just of the sort that tries to stand out by bleating in a slightly different pitch than the others. Nonetheless, being a member of a flock doesn't change the status of my individuality - even sheep (as long as they haven't been cloned) aren't all identical!

And on that note (of clumsily-stated platitudes), I shall bid you good night.

PHOTOGRAPHY PROJECT: And After All That, My ARTIST STATEMENT

As I grow older, I am increasingly fascinated by the changes brought upon by age. All humans are bound by the limits of mortality, but it is the experiences of our lifetimes that differentiate us.

Photographs are capable of capturing the ethereal even as they record the banal. With a click of the shutter, one may freeze forever the essence of a single moment in time, perhaps revealing things that would not be noticeable in the tumult of ordinary life. Photographs can expose the layers that life experience has created upon the face, or the impressions that the labor of living has left upon the body. I find these imperfections beautiful, and feel impelled to capture their many varieties.

In order to better understand my subjects, I interviewed all of them - first, I found out their names, jobs, and ages; then, I asked them three questions pertaining, respectively, to their past, present, and future. Their responses were intended to enrich the viewer's visual interpretation of each subject, and to raise questions about how their appearances, affected by age, intersect with their life experiences. I did my best to vary the subjects' genders, ages, and socioeconomic statuses as much as possible. Directly after the interviews, I took as many photographs of the subjects as time would permit.

This project has opened my eyes to the hopes and worries of dozens of New Yorkers. Few experiences in my life have been quite as powerful as that of strangers opening their hearts to me while they consider what it is that they value in their lives. It turns out that most people know the answers to these complex questions almost intuitively, barely having to think about their responses. I have discovered that age plays a significant role in determining what is important to people. This is largely a result of the changing structures of peoples' lives as they age: for example, older people are more likely to have their own families, which seem to be very significant for many of them.

I hope that this project will allow people to see both how comfortingly similar and how wonderfully unique we all are. In a city as enormous as New York, one may often feel lost among the crowds; I would like to remind people that they are not alone.

Identity Crisis

Yesterday's experience in Chinatown consisted of many hostile glares and, paradoxically, several incidents of warmly amicable behavior in spite of language barriers. It is a thoroughly interesting location to shoot in, albeit a difficult one because of the suspicious attitude of many of its inhabitants towards a person with a camera.

Alas, I am in a state of turmoil; for quite a while, I have been noticing that my photography has become stuck in a rut of unchallenging optimism. It is ironic that my photographs end up so sweet, because that is not at all how I see the world! Certainly, I see a great deal of beauty, particularly in the vibrant world of New York City, but that does not mean that I neglect the complex, unpleasant aspects of life - in fact, I am rather familiar with them. I have no idea why I have not been able to portray this in my work, and it frustrates the hell out of me. Of course, it is never pleasant to hear that your photographs resemble glorified senior pictures (as Kevin said when I consulted him), but I simply can't disagree, and have been thinking the same exact thing for months.

I suppose that I (and anyone who ends up reading this) will have to deal with the messy results of the experimentation that I will hopefully be doing from now on. After all, I don't want to create bland photographs - my inspirations are Irving Penn, Richard Avedon, and August Sander, not some random photographer who does crowd-pleasing wedding and baby photography.

Coulrophobia

Mascarpone The Clown

I have never understood the fear of clowns that pervades the American culture. Perhaps it is the result of films like "It" and the legacy of John Wayne Gacy, but clowns are often perceived as murderers and perverts in disguise.

I, however, appreciate the complicated role of clowns, the combination of joy and clumsy confusion that they represent. With the discovery of this clown in Union Square (a man from Argentina who calls himself Mascarpone), I found numerous photographic opportunities - bewildered children, fluorescent equipment, and that amazing, intentionally imperfect powdery makeup.

I got quite a few nice shots (with surprisingly few difficulties with focusing, my usual handicap), some of which I hope to send to him. I hope very much that he likes them.

Oh, and also:
Happy Birthday to me
Happy Birthday to me
Happy Birthday dear me-ee
Happy Birthday to me

I have officially begun a new decade in my life. Now I can legally do everything except rent a car.

(Edit: and run for Congress/President.)