within reach: jammy

iced coffee remains in jam jar glass © kjm

[within reach is a series of photographs examining the environment of home in detail]

a city

W. Burnside Street Location, #1 © kjm

Portland is a palpably good town, I think. By good, I mean good people, a good, laid back vibe, good local coffee and beer, good public transportation, and the general feeling that good things are happening. And by good, I actually mean great.

Add a bunch of full archival clamshell boxes with photographers+curators+gallerists all talking about photography, and it makes for a fun weekend. The icing on the Stumptown cake: this closed-down Burger King a few blocks from my hotel.

I'm home now and processing my thoughts on Photolucida, which was fabulous, to say the least. Stay tuned.

send off

sky (iphone), just after the lecture © kjm

I know, I'll stop with the sky pictures after this one.

Off to Photolucida today, and I'm a bit nervous, having never been to a review like this before. But Thursday was as good as it could be in preparation, with a dry run showing the prints to local photographer peeps Mel and Dan, Sonja and Jonathan. Then it was off to see Stephen Shore give a lecture for a show of his work at Marquette University. He was smart, thoughtful and inspiring, to say the least. Several points he made will stick with me, but I was most impressed by how he described his life long drive to make pictures: a result of wanting to learn more about the world.

update

© kjm

Updates on the Camp Home project:

I made a broad edit for the studio visit relating to the Nohl Fund Fellowship show, which will open in October. We further culled the pictures to a working set of 33, which are now the selections that appear on my website.

I'm thrilled to say that Karin Higa from the Japanese American National Museum has agreed to write the essay for the show catalog.

And I have a straight-from-the-printer set of 20 prints that I'll be taking Friday to Photolucida in Portland.

as seen: everywhere a sign

high noon, today © kjm

Phoenix is a great city for signs of a certain age. They're especially clustered on streets like East Van Buren Street, fading and baking in the ever-present sun.

many happy years

Sky for Chris and Kirsten © kjm

Today my friend Chris Kessler is getting married. I can't make the wedding, unfortunately, but here's my gift to them - the sky as seen over Elmira, Michigan.

normal/hot

Lombardi Avenue Location © kjm

Back from Michigan, where I photographed some beautiful food and local produce. The tally: 6 days, 1400 miles, 2400 photos and about 3 million cherries. At one farm I was shooting at, I mentioned sheepishly to the owner that cherries weren't my favorite food. Her reply: "Funny, you look like a normal person."

Tomorrow night, a show of my Fast Food work opens at Modified Arts, both the coolest music venue in Phoenix and a great place to show work. The owner, Kimber Lanning, is the unofficial Mayor Of All That Is Cool And Progressive in Phoenix. If you happen to be in the area, the opening is from 6-9 pm. I'll have some of my booklet/prints to peddle, and will likely be the guy who looks like he's about to pass out from the heat.

Marilu and I found the above Wendy's recently, in the shadow of my state's capital, Lambeau Field.

empty/plenty

Okemos Road Location © kjm

And another one on Friday...

fast found

Pipestone Road Location © kjm

I'm in Michigan working on a story about food and restaurants for the state's tourism magazine. This closed-down Hardee's, found today in Benton Harbor, is not part of the story.

a dark and stormy

sky for cheryl © kjm

A while back, my brother-in-law Mark read one of my posts about photographing the sky. He suggested that if I ever captured a stormy scene, my sister Cheryl might like a print. Cheryl loves weather, especially the dramatic variety, and I think she secretly monitors the dew point of the locales where I'm traveling. We had a few more storms roll through in the last few days, and this was the sky from my front walk. It was a creepy sight, with the clouds swirling and changing form quickly. Sis, a print's at the lab.

within reach: discs

© kjm

Discs of refracted sunlight, shining through a tree, and landing happily on the back window yesterday.

within reach: not sleeping

© kjm

This dead moth was discovered not on, but very near a small Sophie Calle book on my bookshelf.

as seen: correction

© kjm

One last picture from Italy.

meat/meet

© kjm

Maybe it's because I'm focused visually when I'm working, but I find it comforting to be in places where the people around me are speaking another language. Overhearing Americans talk while traveling can also be comforting, but mostly it spoils the notion of solitary exploration. People usually assume I'm a Japanese tourist, so most of the time I can eavesdrop on conversations.

While in a butcher shop in the Chianti wine region (the shot above is actually from different butcher shop a few towns away), I heard two women talking. Not one to make small talk (and thereby ruin others' notion of solitary exploration), I couldn't get over the fact that they sounded like Milwaukeeans. And not the cartoonish Fargo movie version of a Midwestern accent, but a subtle intonation that I thought I recognized. "Are you from Wisconsin?," I asked. And sure enough, both women lived about 5 miles from my house.

no, grazie

statue, boboli gardens © kjm

pattini

© kjm

Three (of the many) differences between Italian and American men:
1. They have to cut their own pizza pies.
2. The shoes.
3. The shoes.

as seen: real/temporary

plazzo pitti © kjm

as seen: gaze

shop window, via guicciardini © kjm

as seen: shadow

david, numero due replica © kjm

The first and only other time I was in Florence, it was on a college graduation, sweatshirt-wearing European trip with cheap wine-seeking buddies. Of Florence, I only remember two things - enjoying some tasty bread and cheese while our group argued about something, and being exhausted while visiting the Uffizi. I was tired and a bit museumed out by this point in the trip, but then I rounded a corner and everything changed in front of Da Vinci's Annunciation.

home and away

mom on the front step last summer © kjm

Happily, I've just arrived in Florence, Italy. But it was a bit disappointing leaving home yesterday morning, as the whole family (minus Marilu) were in town. My brother, sister, their partners and my nephews all drove in to attend a golden anniversary party for our closest family friends. All the bedrooms were occupied, the refrigerator was stuffed, cards were played, and the favorite local pizza was ordered. If my dad were still alive, he would've done a much better job of parking all the cars in the driveway. Best of all, though, I think my mom was thrilled to have a full house again.

within reach: bug

big bug on the living room window © kjm

edit

© kjm

I'm working on editing the Camp Home pictures, which is proving to be a bit harder than expected. My intention is to make a first broad edit of about 50 pictures, which will eventually be further winnowed down. I pride myself on being a good editor of my own work, but I find this more difficult than sifting through an editorial assignment or smaller personal projects. The criteria for selection is multi-layered, and I'm trying to balance aesthetic qualities with content and the element of symbolism. And these are some of the most personal pictures I've ever made, so that makes it harder to be completely neutral. The "ownership" I feel with these pictures is strong, and I feel a kind of larger responsibility in releasing them.

All that said, it's an incredibly gratifying, if excruciating task, and I'm loving every minute of it.

i love this photo, #21

(Salman Rushdie, 1999) © chris buck

I love this photo by the photographer Chris Buck. On his website, Buck tells the backstory to some of his wonderful portraits. About this shot of Salman Rushdie, he writes:

"When I was given this assignment, I was asked not to tell anyone about it. When you're told something like that, the first thing you want to do is tell people. But I couldn't, and I thought about it as a sort of test to see if I could not tell anyone. My parents, girlfriend, office manager, nobody, I didn't tell anybody. I didn't know how seriously to take the fatwa. What if I told someone and they told someone and they told someone... and I have him posing, looking out a window and someone shot him in the face? It wouldn't look good."

within reach: thorny

© kjm

It's Sunday morning and Marilu is messing around with the dried remains of some purple thorny plants...

if, then: photographers

A few months ago, Marilu and I got a flat tire while driving from Winslow to Phoenix. After being a bit rattled by the blowout, we both thought, "Where's Amy Stein when you need her?" We were happy to be alive and would have gladly sat for a photo. Along that same train of thought...

If the overgrown mess that is my "backyard" catches fire this summer, I'd call Larry Schwarm before I call 911. The next time I go backpacking, I'd like to have Jill Greenberg along. If she's photographing the bears, they can't eat me. But if I'm on a tamer hike in Arizona, maybe Mark Klett will come along to photograph some saguaro cactus. If I were a rock star, I'd hope that Jim Herrington would meet up with me on the road somewhere between gigs. I don't usually set a formal table, but if I did, I'd let Laura Letinsky in after a meal to do her thing. On an epic cross country road trip, I'd save room in my car for Stephen Shore and Timothy Briner. If there was no car involved, I'd want Mike Brodie to watch my back. If I were a hipster L.A. actor, I'd tell my publicist that only Amanda Friedman could photograph me. Lastly, God forbid, if my freelance work ever dried up, I'd want Phillip Toledano to photograph my deserted office.

pretty/dirty

unwashed plate, 6:38 pm © kjm

within reach: saturation

© kjm

When we get lots of rain, like we have for the past few days, a part of my living room wall leaks. What's nice about living in an industrial space, though, is that water finds itself quickly to a big central floor drain. But some things lie in its path, like the ever-present stacks of magazines I tend to hoard. Above, a detail from the water-soaked November 2007 issue of PDN.

within reach: fur

© kjm

It's my blog, and I can post cute cat pictures if I please. (But don't worry, this won't become a trend.)

This is my mom's cat Caramel, basking in some beautiful light while giving me the look that Marilu describes as, "You've got two hands - why aren't you petting me?" Caramel occasionally vacations at my house and will, without a doubt, go down in the feline history books as a giant among companions.

quickbooks

© kjm

I'm excited that I'll be attending the summer portfolio review at Photolucida in July. The reviewers for this particular event are all from the Northwest and West, and I'm eager to show my Camp Home series, which has its roots in the story of west coast Japanese American communities. During the war, the Tule Lake internment camp became home to residents of Washington, Oregon and California.

This will be my first review, and I'm seeking the advice of friends and beginning to prepare. Among other things, I'm printing some small books - to be able to show work more informally than the prints I'll also be bringing. This is my first attempt at books like this, and I have to say, they've been fun to design. For the most part, I'm pleased by the quality of the iPhoto books from Apple (above), but I'm thinking of trying out Blurb as well - any suggestions?

little witness

© associated press/chris carlson

Even though he was sleeping through most of the fanfare, I'm thrilled to know that my 5-year-old nephew was present to witness some history last night in St. Paul. When he entered the arena with my sister and brother-in-law, the Obama button under his little coat set off the metal detector. He had picked it out himself, and it read, "Let's Get To Work." Amen to that.