We all have addictions, but most of us call them by other names.
Sometimes we call them disorders.
And sometimes we call them hobbies.
Lisa Bliss runs ultra marathons. And like many with her addiction, her toenails are often impacted enough on the long trails and roads to fall off. That was until a few years ago when she had them permanently surgically removed. Since then scar tissue has replaced where the nail had been. She says the only time she really notices is when she stubs her toe.
Bliss won the Badwater, the 135-mile race in Death Valley, in 2007 and recently returned from completing Spartathlon, a 245km ultra marathon run from Athens to Sparta.
This may seem a little self serving, but remind yourself that you are reading a blog after all.
Also, I’m not trying to convince you to check out the show, just to look at this poster that Kim conceptualized and I photographed for an upcoming show that we just happen to be playing as well. And now, since you’ve come this far, you might as well put it on the iCal.
Come for the enchanting sounds of Banjo and Cello from The Dela Project, stay for the aromatic Bookwalter Cabernet. Maybe somewhere between we’ll play you a song.
Sorry, no Freebird.
Lately, I’ve been trying to take the time to make pictures for myself again, putting away studio lights and avoiding the elaborate setups and just finding the moments in the scenes as they unfold. I find that when you take a few moments to let things in, luck and irony have a way of finding you. I only know this because when I’m not paying attention, I can’t see.
There’s almost nothing more satisfying to me than to capture something as authentic as it is fleeting – it’s the reason I really fell for photography.
A note for the locals: If you know anyone interested in learning more about the photography craft, or just needing a reason to use their digital camera, I’m teaching a course through a local workshop group, much like parks and rec. They are also offering other classes in painting, writing, SLAM poetry and others and have a great list of acclaimed instructors. Check out their online catalog here.
and registration here.
and please message me if you’re interested
It seems to be conventional wisdom that Jess Walter lives the life that others dream of.
Less specifically, that to some, the life of a writer is akin to that of Kobe or the Jonas Brothers. And as long as you can get past the lack of fans removing their clothing for you and cereal boxes with your picture, this might be your Shangri-La.
But you’ll have to put in the time. Up every morning with the sun and off to his office just a wiffleball hit from his back porch, Walter will put in 60 hours a week at his laptop – and that’s all 7 days.
I was able to trail Jess around town thanks to a story about the release his fifth novel, “The Financial Lives of the Poets”, which is already being touted as one of the best books of the Fall – and it hasn’t even hit bookstores yet.
So what’s it like to be Jess Walter? Well, it resembles the day-to-day of a 40-some with a wife and three kids – cul-de-sac basketball games on the weekends and poker with the guys on Tuesday nights. Then afterward, you wake up at dawn and spend the rest of the day putting it down on paper.
Maybe that dream isn’t so bad.
(The story appears in this week’s Inlander.)
Financial Lives is out Sept 22.
Hoopfest weekend in Spokane is incomparable to any other event.
Thousands of ballers, from the dreamers wearing their shiny new Jordans on the pocketed asphalt to the guys who come back to relive the their high school days, teams clog downtown streets in the largest 3-on-3 basketball tournament in the world.
For the 20th anniversary of the two day party, the NY Times picked up on the vibe and sent out John Branch who put together a great story on the event.
Check it out here
Here’s a few snaps.
We headed up to Cliff Drive last night and made a few snaps of the storm that rolled through here last night. Not sure where she was headed, but it was quite a show while it lasted.
Then, it was quite the wet hailstorm that left us soaked in our sleeping bag.
Funny… all these years, I can’t remember ever photographing lightning.
It’s been argued that Patrick Kendrick has single handedly changed history.
More specifically, the history of local music in Spokane. He’s a little more modest than that: giving credit where he says it’s due – to the musicians.
We had a great time shooting this multi-layered photo-illustration at Mootsy’s, one of the venues Kendrick books shows for under his company, Platform booking. It was also the locale where I went last March to hear Portland band Nick Jaina (a Kendrick show) and met my girlfriend and viola superstar, Kim Wescott, who was opening for the band.
How’s that for history.
Well, its finally here – saint paddy’s day, which just happens to mark the final edition the Seattle Post-Inteligencer.
I’m watching a lot of great writers, photographers, designers, editors and friends lose their careers.
We’re watching what is at best, the great re-write of journalism; at worst, the beginning of the end.
On the incredibly good chance you’re part of the growing majority who does not read newspapers, perhaps you’ve heard of this story – it starts where the vice-president creates the internet and ends with the downfall of civilization
While we wait for that, raise a glass toward the emerald city.
To 146 years of journalism… cheers.
kurt olson . spokane
A friend of mine has been raptured into photography.
As is normally the case, I’ve been trying to responsibly feed his habit with old a steady feed of film stock, which is to say, some B&W from my black and white days.
We went out to find some magic on a foggy night in knee deep snow – the kind that’s less enchanting and more brown.
south spokane
They sat around and sipped on a bottle of four dollar champagne, chilled since last new years behind container of soy mayonnaise.
They talked of the the past years and what they had left in their wakes. That seemed to be less and less important as they discussed the year to come, only hours old. It still felt malleable, corruptible… impressionable.
They read a story about a railroad train and a road, and how you cannot have both in this world; eventually, one replaces the other, and it’s usually a sloping street.
The only reason to look back is to be thankful for what we have and to argue of what we’ve lost. And to take a little from both for the road beyond the hill.
spokane . wa
by raj
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