within reach: change

because someone keeps stealing my yard sign © kjm

I have refrained talking about the election here, for several reasons. For one, my editorial clients include newsweeklies and a certain newspaper of record - and even though most of the publications I work for wouldn't care, my old, straight journalism roots discourage too much public expression. (I had the pleasure of photographing Michelle Obama for one publication, and she was delightful.)

Another reason, and Marilu will confirm this, is that if I started talking about the election, I just might not stop (this would be the "don't get him started" argument). Lastly, though it may not always appear so, I try to keep the focus of this space toward my artwork and the spirit of creation - by myself, and by others.

All that said, this sign in my window reads "Obama/Biden."

within reach: let them eat it

uneaten cake from the back of the fridge © kjm

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

close call

N. 76th Street Location, # 1 and #2 © kjm

I passed by this KFC the other day, and made it back today to photograph. Good thing - there were some contractors there tearing part the KFCness from the building ("we're removing the peak."). I'll be back to shoot this one again soon...

as seen: outside, in

conference room before a shoot © kjm

within reach: streaks

water marks on the southern windows © kjm

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

installation

© kjm

The opening of the Mary L. Nohl Fellowship show went really well last week, with a large and lively crowd in attendance. The catalog looks great - Karin Higa of the National Japanese American Museum in L.A. was kind enough to write an essay about the Camp Home work - you can read it here.

And I was really happy with the way the installation turned out (photographed today, while my mom looked at the work, above), and I'm happy I decided to have so many images framed. The idea for a grid, rather than a single line of photographs, was inspired by several things. 1. A map of the current farmland, which I use while shooting, details the homestead plots in large, mostly rectangular grids. 2. The original internment camp buildings were also laid out in large grids, and my aunt tells me it was important to remember your building number and section name (my dad's family section was called "Alaska"), in order to not get lost. 3. I like the physical experience of viewing the big group of photographs - most people seem to stand one place and take in the totality of the piece, before going in for a closer look. There's a subtle similarity to the way one experiences a historical monument.

big world, small world

stopped to make a picture, philip, south dakota © kjm

A week after the interesting vehicular experiences in India, I find myself on an equally bumpy ride with a rancher is his pickup truck. We're on a search for some of his cows, driving through beautiful South Dakota grasslands and silty streams. He's stops periodically to grab his binoculars ("that's either a tree top or one of my cows" ) and when we find some, he uses his curled fist to make an effective call, which gets their attention.

Earlier in the day, he mentioned that he had a roommate in college who was from Hawaii. I told him how Hawaii can be like a small town, at least to the older generations. If my mom meets another native of Hawaii, it only takes them a few minutes to discover mutual friends. So he tells me his buddy's name, and he's a little unsure about the last name (it's been 40 years), but it sounds similar to my mom's maiden name. So I ask him, could the last name be "Kimura?" Maybe. My mom says later, "Calvin Kimura? He's your relative." So Kenny the rancher, who I've just spent a long day with, was buddies with Calvin, my mom's second cousin, who I've never heard of or met.

One of the things I love best about my job is that I often find myself in places where I'm clearly out of my element. Being reminded of the underlying connections makes it even more exciting.

tinytinygroupshow #7

In pondering a tinytinygroupshow about my favorite season, Fall, which is upon us in the upper Midwest, I started to think about other uses for the word itself. Among others, one can fall asleep; into love; down dead, or from grace. And a bit of musical inspiration - one of my favorite songs of all time is Yo La Tengo's Our Way To Fall.

[ tinytinygroupshow is a mini electroexhibit of photographs based around a basic theme. There are no gallery hours, price lists, commissions, lengthy wall texts or attractive gallery attendants. tinytinygroupshow is a place to have a brief look at some photography, by photographers known and unknown, in a manner that hopefully provokes a little thought. View past tinytinygroupshows here. ]

Note: you might need to click on your screen a second time to enlarge the show

close (focus)

© kjm

I brought my point + shoot along on the recent canoe trip, with hopes of not working too hard, but with the possibly of making a picture I could submit to the Times' Why We Travel section again. But alas, I don't use the camera enough, and spent the first few days making out of focus images of my buddies. I realized my error at some point, and spent part of the last day making some details around camp.

on your left

© kjm

Here's another attempt at describing the fascinating traffic in India. I shot out my window about every 10 seconds, during a 15 minute traffic jam in Udaipur. Since jetlag is still effecting my ability to figure out how to post a video on the blog (with any amount of clarity or quality), click on the image above or here to see a short video. Song (thanks/sorry) by Radiohead.

home and awake

frames, Udaipur, India © kjm

Back home now and trying to catch up - with Marilu(!), on sleep (23 hours of travel to get home), and on lots of emails. I'm really excited about the Mary L. Nohl Fellowship show, which opens tonight (6-9pm, if you're in the area). There will be 27 pictures from the Camp Home project in a large grid, and I'm excited to see how the installation turned out. I hope to make it through the opening both awake and slightly charming.

Inova will host an opening and reception to honor the Nohl Fellows on Friday, October 10, from 6-9 pm. Inova curator Nicholas Frank will give a gallery talk at 6:30 pm. Address: Kenilworth, 2155 N. Prospect Ave., Milwaukee, WI

John Gresl, Mark Klassen and Dan Ollman (Established Artists); Annie Killelea, Faythe Levine, Colin Matthes and Kevin J. Miyazaki (Emerging Artists)

as seen: night and day

Jodhpur, India © kjm

buckle up

© kjm

Until yesterday, I thought my most interesting backseat experiences had been in Istanbul. Marilu and I were there together and shared one hair-raising drive in a taxi; she spent another alone, emerging from the cab looking like she'd seen a ghost (her own). The traffic here is intense, not for it's speed, but for density and variety of wheeled and hoofed participants. They are masters of the merge, with lots of chaotic traffic circles and scooters flying into traffic from side streets. Best not to look watch too closely.

ely to delhi (1 stop)

ride to the hotel in delhi tonight © kjm

I arrived in India tonight to start a travel assignment, after just a day at home following the week-long canoe trip in Minnesota. The 15-hour flight from Newark wasn't as bad as I'd thought - and I realized that it's not necessary to pre-order a vegetarian meal on a flight to India. But because I was able to sleep so much on the plane, I'm awake and it's after midnight here. I leave early tomorrow morning for the city of Jaipur.

Two great meditations on the topic of jetlag: the movie Lost In Translation, most specifically the scene where Bill Murray arrives in Tokyo and peers out the car window; and a wonderful essay by Pico Iyer titled, Nightwalking, from his book Sun After Dark.

i love this photo, #24

Road To Shasta © Erika Larsen

I love this photo by the photographer Erika Larsen. I've been a fan of Erika's work for a while, and really enjoy the gentle but serious nature of her portrait work. This particular picture, from her series One If By Land, embodies for me the emotion that comes from travel - from experiencing a new place for the first time, and for the unknown journey ahead.

About the picture, Erika says, "I was sent on assignment to photograph the spiritual community of Mount Shasta. Mt. Shasta is considered a sacred mountain. Numerous mysterious legends and psychic messages speak of the significance of Mt. Shasta as a place of powerful earth energies. This was the first view I had of the mountain as I was driving towards my hotel. It was like a beacon."

post kfc

N. 27th Street Location, #1 © kjm

This one is close to home - drove by it last week.

within reach: quack

unlucky ducky © kjm

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

i love this photo, #23

© kurt tong

I love this photo by the photographer Kurt Tong. It's such a delicate and mesmerizing picture - I found myself straining to see every 72 dpi pixel I could on screen. It's taken from his project, People's Park, in which he documents the current state of public parks in China, once an important cultural and societal space in a country that has changed greatly. He describes making the picture this way:

"It was a 6 week trip to photograph fading parks in China and this image was taken right at the end of my trip. I guess I was working harder to look beyond the more obvious stuff, with me running out of film and everything. I first noticed the rows of birdcages (there was about 20 of them) and thought it would make a nice image. As I was 'looking' the shot, I noted the painted mural on the wall, in particular the painted birds. It was such a nice juxtaposition, the real trees with the caged birds against the fake bamboo and free birds. The colors were quite muted too except for the crazy plastic cages. It worked out really well, it just fit in with the theme of the project perfectly. The mural reminded me of the propaganda posters of the communist past and the plastic cages of the new industrial China with its people still caged and controlled."

not just a flyover

Highway 66 location, #1 © kjm

I'll be canoeing all this week in the beautiful Boundary Waters region between Minnesota and Canada, the home to more than one thousand (no lie) non-motorized lakes. I'm really looking forward to meeting up with the old buddies, particularly because our annual trips have been harder to keep on track, what with family and work.

Unfortunately, I'll be missing the opening Friday night of Photography MIDWEST: A Seven State Juried Competition, of which the photograph above is included. The show was juried by Lisa Hostetler, who's doing great things at the Milwaukee Art Museum, and also features work by my friend, Mel Trittin.

While sans electronics this week, I've scheduled a few auto-pilot blog posts...

art yard

© kjm

I love that scene from Hannah and Her Sisters when Max Von Sydow screams, "I don't sell my art by the yard!" There actually will be a yard-ish photograph in my near future (stay tuned), but for now, this is the largest batch, if not a single picture, I've ever produced. Twenty-seven pictures from the Camp Home series, fresh from the framer, for the upcoming Nohl Fellowship show. Today is Christmas early - I'll open them, examine each for any problems, and label the backs.

within reach: color

uneaten tomato © kjm

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

as seen: resin

arcosanti, arizona © kjm

fishing/thinking

sky above where dad fished as a young man © kjm

My dad was a passionate fisherman for many years of his life. As kids, we would open his heavy, brown metal tackle box to look at its strange, colorful contents, and I have early memories of him cleaning Lake Michigan salmon in the kitchen sink. One of his oldest friends recently told me that he still has a fishing pole that my dad gave him 50 years ago. In middle age, due in part, I suppose, to the corporate nature of his work, he took up golf and stopped fishing.

After Marilu and I caught a few fish during the family reunion, I decided to take along some of my dad's old gear along on an upcoming canoe trip. His tackle box, at some point, had changed to a newer plastic one, but I found all the contents as I remembered them: daredevils, rattlers, bobbers and sinkers. I took the contents and 10 fishing rods out to Andy's house for advice. Most of the fishing I've done as a younger man has been with Andy, so this was a fun conversation to have over a beer. He pointed out which lures to take, examined the rods for the best choice, and wound new 8 lb. test onto an old reel. Andy will be on this trip, and I love the idea that we could catch some big lake trout for a shore dinner.

But this is a conversation that I would have loved to have with my dad. It's one that I can imagine quite clearly - with him peering into the tackle box and poking his finger around the lures. He'd know just what I should bring.

[Sky Above is a new small series]

with reach: perennial

wilting glads on the kitchen counter © kjm

When Marilu's here, she spends lots of time working with my mom in her garden. As a kid, our garden was mostly the same from year to year - smallish rectangular areas with tomatoes, peonies, and unruly bushes that my dad tried to tame. But in the past few years, it's taken on a whole new life and scale. We joke about who should be more grateful - my mom, for Marilu's guidance and help, or Marilu, for the access to Northern soil to sink her hands into.

In truth, it's probably me who's the winner. Though I've got a black thumb and am not much interested in gardening itself, it's a real treat to see the two so happy.

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

within reach: read

(last) sunday magazine on the couch © kjm

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

within reach: scurvy

© kjm

Marilu's the fruit eater in our house. I don't hate it, but my face doesn't light up the way her's does when confronted with fresh summer fruit. She left Monday for Phoenix after a lovely week here, and I found this today in the fridge.

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

within reach: wash

soap © kjm

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

happy labor day

Foundry Pattern Maker's Office, Beaver Dam, Wisconsin © kjm

good/buy

© kjm

With all the interesting places to collect photographs online these days, here's one you might not have seen: A print sale has been organized to help Tim Janicke and his family pay for medical expenses related to his brain cancer, radiation and chemotherapy. It's been many years since I've seen Tim, but he was one of the fine folks at the Kansas City Star who were kind to me and who taught me much during an internship at the paper. Photographers like Bill Frakes, Bill Luster, Jim Richardson and Pete Souza have contributed to the sale, and pictures are still being added.

I have one matted 8x10 print of the image above that's part of the sale. It was shot in a West Maui rainforest this past January. If you're a reader of this blog and end up buying a print (mine or any others) to help Tim, let me know and I'll send you one of my booklet/print sets.

within reach: shock/awe

moldy onion © kjm

The strange mold on this onion even shocked me - and when it comes to housekeeping, that's not very easy to do.

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