Thanks lighting dudes!

I'll post a Petty/Winwood album to my myspace eventually.

Hide-and-Seek with the Nittany Lion, Peek-a-Boo with Tom Petty, what's next, musical chairs with Jack Nicholson?

Do you love Stevie Winwood?

Well, if you don't, that's fine because I do.

This guy is awesome and not only because I would get an occasional wistful smile from behind his keys. With that smile though, comes a history book of rock'n'roll from his start with the Spencer Davis Group to Traffic to Blind Faith to thirty-some years of collaborations and solo ventures.

For a kid that grew up with all that, it was wonderful to be standing two feet from a legend. The unusually fun part about all this too is that he was opening for Tom Petty. Petty certainly has a much larger and obviously younger following, but lacks in musically dynamic range when compared to Winwood.

Ah well, Petty's a legend too, but the difference is... he knows it. Stevie just kinda plays to play, his unforgettable voice cutting the bustle of the crowd, most of which probably clueless as to who they are talking over.

"Often lost and forgotten
The vagueness and the mud
I've been thinking I'm working too hard
But I got something to show"

"Empty Pages" lyrics from Traffic's 1970 album,"John Barleycorn Must Die"

After this show, "Higher Love" was stuck in my head for about 4 days.

I'm also pretty sure that he didn't even play it.

CHECK OUT THIS DUDE!

These pants (and matching vest) took him 30 years to make.

Talk about a slave to fashion! Wooo hooo!

I'd like to give a special thanks to Tom Petty for wrangling such characters into his shows. I think it's spectacular.

Headlining the Three Rivers Arts Festival, moe. made their annual return to Pittsburgh to kick off the city's biggest celebration of the arts last Friday.

I love photographing these guys because they just let me crawl wherever my little heart desires, provided I'm not too much in anyone's direct line of sight - stagehands and/or audience. They also are consistently a fun band to shoot because they are so mellow. One would think that might be a bad thing for photography, but it really just makes you re-evaluate what and how you are shooting. Yeah, sure, are you going to get more craziness shooting a band like KISS (shut up, it was the first band I could think of with insane theatrics)? Uh, yes... you would be an idiot if you weren't able to capture some form of insanity at a show like that, but to take something so relaxed and make it visually say, yes that was a moment, is a lot harder.

Photo: Al!

For whatever reason, every time I shoot moe., I am always prone to photographing Rob. It's not my usual "find the most animated," because really, moe. is too chill for that rule. It's more of... I just smile when I see this guy. Maybe it's his smile, maybe it's his presence, maybe it's his hands... I don't know. The draw to him never fails though.

PPG, a trademark building of Pittsburgh to the left of moe.'s stage Friday night.

I want to know who did the typography and graphic design for that sticker.

My 17-year-old fan club who happened to be strategically placed in front of Rob - unavoidable every time I would go to shoot the moe. bassist. It's fortunate I have an affinity for high-fives.

At least their rambunctious chants of "pho-tog-ra-pher" to the beats of numerous songs made the band smile and really, that's all I'm there to do.

Let's begin this story with Game 5, which, was nothing short of awesome. Down in the series, 3-1, the Penguins played a stellar game on Monday night against Detroit. At first, it wasn't looking so good, but then in the last minute of play, Maxim Talbot scored the tying goal to send the Pens into overtime.

Now at the time, I was waiting for a label rep and Greg Laswell to get into town from Philly. I was supposed to meet them for drinks at 11, which would have been enough time to finish the game and be on my merry way... but the Pens just went into overtime! Ugh.

Fortunately (sorry guys), my lovelies got stuck in freakishly late traffic, coincidentally plopping them in Pittsburgh right as Petr Sykora shot the winning sudden-death goal in 3OT for the Pens! Talk about timing!

Because I took the guys to Dish, we were just in time to hear all the fans in the South Side bars come out and celebrate the greatest Pens game of the year. I love when I can show visitors a funny, yet big part of Pittsburgh, particularly when that kind of victory doesn't happen everyday.

Photo: A collection of Pens' fans outside Mellon Arena watching Game 6 on the outdoor jumbotron. Check out the Channel 11 sportscaster in the background, who is definitely my favorite part of this shot.

By far, my favorite boys to photograph.

Just a few more of my favorite Penguins fans.

Good thought dude.

Even better thought to the gentlemen in the upper right-hand corner. Reminds me of my PSU days when I'd run into that silly Kyoto penguin on the bus en route to the stadium on rainy afternoons...

Those of us that were not fortunate enough to wiggle our way into the arena last Wednesday evening, were certainly fortunate enough to be in the company of a wondrous sea of Pittsburghers for Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals. If you've ever been to a post-season game in this city (minus the Pirates), you know what I mean by wondrous - i.e. the final line spoken in a phone convo by the lady behind us: "It's the m'f'n playoffs! Of course I'm emotional you SOB! They're f'n blowin the thing! FINE! You don't f'n care?! Don't expect me to come home tonight! Actually! I WILL f'n come home and MAKE you f'n care!" This line could have been spoken to a friend, a relative, a husband, oh, you know, a child...

Pittsburgh, always in such fine form... and we love you so.

For those unaware, the Penguins were kind enough to erect a temporary 12x16 LED screen for the unlucky souls unable to acquire tickets. It's actually pretty cool that thousands of fans have consistently shown up outside Gate 3, rain or shine, throughout the playoffs.

For photography's sake, this naturally turned out to be a great lil shoot.

So I've found myself saying "this is the best week ever!" about 48 times this past year and if you ask me, 48/52 ain't too shabby. This week obviously deserved that statement, but I mean, if last week was the best week ever, but this week is even better than that, there's never too much to be bummed about!

This time, that exclamation is owed to a good friend of mine, Jen "makin' dreams come true" Bilec. First of all, she's one of the best humans I've ever met. Strange, but I really just don't know how else to describe it. How did I first meet this kid, you ask? Well, we went to elementary school together, but my first contact with her was at a 4th/5th grade softball game - where, this bored 4th-grade outfielder (accidentally) caught a fly ball hit by said superstar 5th-grade athlete. I was thrilled about it, probably until 7th grade.

It wasn't until later in college that we ran into each other again and started talking about/swapping music, which is truly where our friendship began.

The cool part about this is that we are now starting to get into positions where we can help the other out in the music world. I'm generally on the small show side, whereas Bilec sticks to the big shows annd guess who came through town last week....

I know I don't really write about DMB, but based on the title of my blog, I think it's safe to assume that there's always been something about their music for me. Not only has "Best of What's Around" been a life motto since the song was released in '94 - yes, little nine-year-old Alli's life philosophy- but it holds the coveted spot of all-time favorite song, mainly for that reason. Dave Matthews somehow also managed to write the musical sound of happiness at it's 3:00 mark, and how one does that I just don't know. I suppose that's just the kind of dude he is.

And it was never so much about Dave and the rest of the guys themselves (I can hear some of you saying, "liar"), but the ability that they have to create music. Songs that are original, songs that both lyrically and musically kick you in the butt and say hey, look at this from another perspective. To all those that equate them to Jack Johnson's mentality to write the same song 900 times, listen closer and you will inevitably discover a line or a track that you've never heard.

Anyway, there are many things that I would love to share, but am afraid that 1) this entry will never end and 2) it's disrespectful to the tour to blog about it. I will say, however, that watching DMB plus Tim Reynolds (who is such a rock star) on electric play to a completely empty, 24,000 capacity outdoor amphitheater on day two of rehearsals, standing backstage, directly behind Carter's set, so close, the stellar lighting design grazed my face, was nothing short of beautiful. If any of you can come up with a place I would have rather been, in any dimension, in any time period, I will give you a bazillion dollars.

Well she ran up into the light, surprised
Her arms are open, her mind's eye is
Seeing things from a better side than most can dream,
On a clearer road I feel, oh you could say she's safe
Whatever tears at her, whatever holds her down
And if nothing can be done,

She'll make the best of what's around...


(Photo: the back of my DMB crew shirt - lit with a simple 60 watt incandescent)

So I was going to post more from KT Tunstall's show last Friday, but I've been insanely side-tracked this past week. There are priorities and then there are priorities and it doesn't take a network of NASA engineers to figure it out.

Needless to say, I will give KT some props. For such a tiny chica, she can really belt a tune. The most important props, however, go out to my lovely, wonderful Melissa at WYEP who hooked me up with 2 tickets to take my little sister and my brother. I'll write a whole story about Miss Franko when I get the right picture, because this chick and her stories are worth a novel.

Also, I think that's a first for a sibling outing... and on the job, no less. I don't think I've ever taken anyone with me, but please correct me if I'm wrong.

Since KT Tunstall has a three-song shooting policy and I can't sit still at auditorium shows to save my life, I decided to step out to the lobby for a few songs. Not surprisingly, Melissa had already beaten me to it and a few moments later, we ran into KT's opener, Dublin-born singer-songwriter, Paddy Casey.

I don't really remember this conversation aside from Paddy randomly beginning the following:

"Are you French?"
"Hm, nope."
"Really? Anyone in your family?"
"Nope."
"You look very French... French-Canadian, maybe?"
"Ehhhh, nope."

I've been called a lot of things in my day, but that was a first.

That was a stupid story. Sorry. The Pens are getting creamed by Detroit, so I'm having a very difficult time focusing and/or writing anything worth reading.

Off-topic, but worth mentioning, Paddy did try a Primanti's sandwich later that night and was a little confused/borderline disgusted.

Now THIS is what I call photography and actually, the only reason I'm posting it is because this is the first time I've wanted to frame anything since I got a comp copy of the 1,000th issue of Rolling Stone in 2006.

Not that anyone cares, but two of my closest friends were in the Burgh this weekend (the goon in green and the lady in the upper left corner in white) and I haven't been more excited since I came home from Asia. Jim is from Pittsburgh too, so it's always nice if we can cross paths in our hometown. The surrounding gaggle of awesomeness is a collection of Hyland cousins plus the kid Jeff's pointing to. We don't know who that is.

Question of the day: Have you ever been approached by a less-than-sober kid and proceeded to take on an absurd identity to a) get rid of her/him b) see how far you can run with it?

Hey kids, the email/website listed on my lil business card is having some server issues, so please use the address linked in my blog profile: alharv@gmail.com. I appreciate the heads-up from those of you whom I haven't responded to due to my general ignorance about the internet.

Much love, many thanks and my sincerest apologies!

There's a big difference between moments when you know you've got a shot and moments where you know that this could be your money shot. The above photo is one of a series that could have been that shot. I love the rock grit of the picture, but more importantly, I loved the moment and how it happened.

Mr. Small's (my favorite venue since forever) has a tiny, wonderfully dirty little pit which separates the audience from the stage. It generally holds extra equipment, some trash, unknown sticky substances and occasionally an ambitious, young photographer.

So, I'm sitting in this pit, on Luther's side of the stage, just waiting for a mid-song rock out when he comes to the edge of the stage, directly above me, to play to the crowd.

And my general rule of thumb? photog contortion+great subject = magic

Lying on my back, my hair against the filth, one leg out-stretched, the other bent under my butt, I'm determined to get that shot. Luther eventually looks down at me and just starts cracking up at the ridiculousness he sees below. Consequently, I start cracking up too and um, stop shooting?

Stupid girl... That big smile of his looking down was the money shot!

A big booo to me.

Later Luther says, "You know, I was trying to ignore you, but I just couldn't anymore and had to laugh."

Well, I guess I just had to laugh too which is sometimes more important than the shot.

Photo: Luther Dickinson of the North Mississippi Allstars

Oh Mr. Small's, how I adore thee...

Ryan, NMA's tour manager, also works wonders with lighting, so I can't take all the credit for this shot. Actually, I didn't even bother re-balancing, because I really liked the golden glow. Fitting for a renovated church, I think.

Plus, the lighting balcony is always the best seat in the house, aside from the foot of the stage, of course.

Not only does Cody rock out on drums, but he's the sickest electric washboard player I have ever seen. The fact that he's the ONLY electric washboard player I've ever seen doesn't take away from his skill, but just makes him even cooler.

I mean, this boy can totally shred a washboard.

NMA bass player, Chris Chew.

Unfortunately, Chris and I didn't get much of a chance to chat, which is actually quite regrettable. He sings one of my favorite songs called "I'd Love to be a Hippy" from the boys' newest album, Hernando.

Luther Dickinson, (stellar) guitar and vocals for the North Mississippi Allstars.

This boy's hands remind me of Clapton's... they sound fast, but look slow, which is nothing short of awesome.

I've been crazy busy with my balancing acts as of late, so there certainly will be more text and images to come from this glorious day of music. If I could prioritize the way I wanted to, there probably would have been a novel from these shows (May 20th).

Even though the Damnwells aren't currently touring the great US of A, the guys need some blog love. Alex (above) has posted some new(er) tunes on their myspace page, so go have a lil listen and catch them the next time they're in your neck of the woods.

If LA did one thing for me, it certainly kicked my butt back into the 3-4 (5-6 if money, time and solid artists permit) times/week show regimen. I guess, you could say that I had a big "you idiot" epiphany with all the shows I went to out there and as Shakespeare wrote in the first lines of "Twelfth Night": If music be the food of love, play on, give me excess of it.

Bob Schneider (for the myspace junkies) was first on my "to do" list and I happen to have a wonderful friend who works for his label, so this was a great way to welcome my long-lost lifestyle back.

Now, Bob has many talents, but it's never quite clear to whom he's trying to appeal. His heavy fan base is crazy about both the soft melodies filled with incendiary lyrics about life as well as the frequently inappropriate hits such as "Ass Knockin," "Fist City," and my personal favorite, "Fuck All You Mother-fuckers"... and for whatever reason, it works! His self-described "Steven Seagall" portion of the show oddly works as the yin to the "Tony Bennett" portion's yang. Hooray for paradoxical unity!

As Ayappa said, "Bob's relationship with an audience always surprises me. There are songs he writes that move me, inspire me, and make me tingle. And then he can have a roomful of women singing the most ribald words imaginable." Annnd you know what I have to say?

That. Rocks.

However I would like to raise a final point. I misquoted Bob the other day in a line from "Captain Kirk" as "wanna be like Mr. Spock, I wanna kick out the jams and rock the block"... which I thought was awesome until I realized he said, "don't wanna"... and I was annoyed. I get it, Spock can be an overly-logical, emotion-purging stick-in-the-mud, but I mean he's a Vulcan, that's what they do! BUT ... you get him off the Enterprise and he is one crazy humanoid when he skips meditation. I guess I can't fault Bob for not being in the know, but Spock was by far the most rockin' dude until Worf in "The Next Generation," so I think he deserves a little respect.

P.S. - Star Trek (the original series) is now remastered and available in HD.

I really like how the stage lights hit the off-white canvas of Bob's Converse sneakers.

Just for the record, I'll explain my obsession with photographing limbs. I've always held that one can judge (honest, not critical) a person based on how they move their hands, but the imagery side of this really began when I first photographed professional ballroom dancers. The amount of energy flowing through their appendages was so utterly visual that my eyes couldn't help but focus on single parts of motion. If you, as the subject, have the ability to convey your persona, or performing persona, through a few fingers and the photographer has the eye to capture that with one flick of your wrist, I'd say you're both in good company.

Feet don't interest me as much as hands, but I'm easily distracted by bright colors.

The "ARRGGH" sing-along portion of the show, as mentioned below.

This is another one of those photos that I post from time to time, where it's not so much about photography, but just about pure content. It's also yet another example of a "to post or not to post," for lack of picture perfection/professionalism, but when you've got a dude from the opening band wearing a bear hat and mimicking the munchkin dance (with intermittent arabesques... on both sides, no less) after a leaping bound onto a 4-foot elevated stage to round out the headliner's show while the front man leads the crowd in pirate noises (mainly, "ARRRGGH"), you can't help but want to share that precious moment with friends and peers. A more appropriate forum would have been to whip out my cellphone, snap a shot, write a quick "Wish you were here," pix message and send it on its merry way to all my concert-going friends who would share equal, single-teared moments of appreciation, but 1) the pix gig isn't my thing and 2) I felt the moment was deserving of a larger audience.

I do understand, however, that this type of "theatric"(??), is certainly not for every band and would appreciate it if most bands didn't follow suit. I mean, do I want to see this at a Deathcab show? Probably not, or wait, yes I do and actually it might BE the thing that sells me on that band, but the point being is that it just fits with a Bob Schneider show... in fact, I'd say it's pretty darned expected. Distractions and oddities are quite welcome as we found out when Hippie McDrunk, an alleged super-fan, climbed the stairs behind the stage to hang all over Mr. Schneider and take over the mic, mid-set. Quite classic too, but she wasn't wearing a Bernstein Bear on her noggin, so it was only half the photo opp.

Good times, good times.

I believe Mick Jagger was quoted as saying that "Wild Horses," was written about this burrito.

Forgetting the laughable, light-hearted entry below about life decisions; let's get down to the serious stuff. This Los Angeles burrito is in an epic battle, perhaps even war, with the falafel of New York City for my heart.

Priorities, people, priorities.

I have been extraordinarily occupied the past week and a half, so I'm just now wrapping up my most recent venture to the infamous Los Angeles, California. We have a love/hate relationship in the worst way, but it's ok, because in a strange "is that all you've got?" sense, I can really enjoy it. In fact, as I once told Bilec, the decision to go to LA over New York, for me at least, is like sleeping with someone not quite up to par, just because you are afraid you may truly, deeply love someone else. You know you love that other person, but you don't want him/her to eventually disappoint you, or vice versa... so what do you do? Find the hooker that is LA and get at it, baby!

All kidding aside, I will say this: denial is a dangerous thing. However, in denying truth, you strangely learn a lot quicker about an infinite number of things than you may have otherwise. I know that seems backwards, but it has to do with totally stepping outside the bounds of your comfort zone and hmm... ummm no, LA at the time was not even remotely close to being on the radar of something mimicking comfort. That city beat me in the worst way and I will not let it win again. Actually, even better! I'm gonna befriend the son of a bitch!

The irony in all of this is that I really did gain a completely new world by getting the crap beat out of me. I paid a pretty penny for it, but what I lost, I found could not amount to that which I gained, simply because it wanted to lose me. I'm not shy to admit that I've had foolish moments where I wished I had never been there at all or that I made attempts many times, in desperate frustration, to prove that I was still me. Then... I realized how heart-breaking it was that I even had to think those thoughts... and that, my friends, was a piggy bank of pretty pennies shattered on a polished Calacatta floor - and boy do those suckers roll.

You don't actually have to tell me, but how many of you would trade the world for the price of those pennies?



Shot: lead vocalist of a SoCal metal band in rehearsal, whom I actually took an honest liking to. For whatever reason, I really felt this shot lent itself to a Rolling-Stone-circa-1971-reader-submission vibe, so I ran with it.

"There was a damn silly bird called a phoenix back before Christ, every few hundred years he built a pyre and burnt himself up. He must have been first cousin to Man. But every time he burnt himself up he sprang out of the ashes, he got himself born all over again. And it looks like we're doing the same thing, over and over, but we've got one damn thing the phoenix never had. We know the damn silly thing we just did. We know all the damn silly things we've done for a thousand years and as long as we know that and always have it around where we can see it, someday we'll stop making the goddamn funeral pyres and jumping in the middle of them." -Ray Bradbury

I could talk about the inherent symbolism in this picture, but I'm not going to. I will just say that I love this image. If you guys can figure out why I love it so much, high fives all around.

Photo courtesy of 8-year-old Reed (a.k.a.: Kite Master) whom I met on the beach last Friday... and yes, this is a photograph (ok, ok, John Beale, photo illustration...) and the bird is a kite.

To date, my most recent shoot has been one of my absolute favorites. I cannot stress to you enough how important it is to be working with good people. This may seem like a keen statement from Captain Obvious, but in all seriousness, and based on previous experiences, it's not worth sacrificing any part of your art, or yourself to something that really isn't going to be all that good for you in the end. Despite what many people may say, you've got to make a business that is good for you. Yeah sure, I like money too, but if it comes with a clause of abandoning things that make you who you are, I say forget it. My business is one about people and their stories, which is why I am in love with this project.

Working with local (well, Pittsburgh... local isn't very helpful or descriptive coming from "Carmen Sandiego," as Bambi calls me) graphic designer and founder of Give and Take T-Shirts, Shea Mullen, was a complete pleasure. You can read about the general concept of Give and Take, provided in the above links, but I think it's very important to note Shea's focus on keeping the project close to home, despite its pending national popularity. Rather than using models, Shea chose people close to her who have been through or have had a relative go through some tough times, be it with cancer, epilepsy or MS- just to name a few.

Anyway, I spent four days with the most awesome models I have ever worked with. The shot above was from the final day of shooting in which 4 of 5 of Shea's nieces and nephews (ages 6-20somethingish) wore cancer shirts in support of their mom. I liked this shot as opposed to the ones that will eventually be used because it was just so perfectly candid. Not to mention the fact that Daniel (right) had me rolling in the grass with laughter with comments such as, "This isn't a charity for me to smile!" Quite witty for a little one.

On a closing note, and I think this is a rather appropriate time to state this: I love my job. I will share John Prine's sentiments in the line, "How the hell can a person go to work in the morning, come home in the evening and got nothin' to say." If I don't come home in the evening with a story, I haven't done my job.

Oh and last, but not least, which one of the boys pictured above do I have a bigger crush on?

"fine regional art"

I think this shot is fairly self-explanatory if you've ever visited Pittsburgh and though it was just a walk-by shot, I think it accomplishes its purpose.

But yes, we take our pierogies so seriously we make them run all over the city* AND we make art out of them!

*We all have our fingers crossed in hopes of a timely "Patahta" Pete comeback this season. Oliver Onion can kiss my butt.

When it comes down to it, a band is only as interesting as its following and Spoon... has the following. Unfortunately, it was too dark for me to visually relay this to you, but just take my word for it.

It was kinda creepy for me, as I have never seen such a silently intense audience in my history of shows. Even creepier... they all looked the same in some combination of the following: Mod haircuts, boat shoes or mid-50s rock boots, blazers or some ridiculous plaid shirt, and my personal favorite... thick-rimmed black glasses... maybe prescription, maybe not.

On one level, I was weirded out and on another level, I thought it was totally cool.

(PS crazy colors due to production aperture, not post-prod software)

The White Rabbits definitely stole the show for me.

AND... most of them are basketball fans! Whooo would have guessed it?

I must say that Hamilton Leithauser of the Walkmen has quite an overwhelming stage presence to match his overwhelming name. I can't say that I like either very much, but you can't deny that he's certainly a performer, but perhaps not in a very appealing way. If you've never seen them live, imagine Bob Dylan in a three-piece suit, shouting, no, screeching words thoughtlessly arranged in desperate attempt at being recognized as some kind of an indie idol. Sound enticing? I didn't think so.

Did/does anyone listen to Dylan for his angelic voice? Yeah, not that I know of either. As one reviewer at Pitchfork writes, Leithauser "has apparently been studying up on the Bob Dylan guide to pronunciation (M Is for Mmphmblgmbn!)"

Haha. Quite accurate, if you ask me.


I know, Cho, I know, but music is fair game, despite art being subjective. We've been over this.

Yeah... this show was two weeks ago. I'm the worst.

(The walkmen... drummer and front man)

I know I'm a week late in rounding up my Virginia posts, but this last one is nothing less than great. As you can see, it has nothing to do with my photography, which is a bummer because it is better than all my VA photos combined.

Everyone knows how much I love exciting, quirky, awesome people, just doing their own thing, living in their own definition of reality. Well, I met the epitome of that in Reston, VA, in the wonderfully brilliant/insane, patented iconographer of the AOL running man.

Dino is amazingly talented in so many things from drawing icons to locating and reselling vintage mod furniture. There are countless Dino stories I can tell, just in meeting for a short amount of time. Example? About a year ago he gave up his cell phone in light of using pay phones all over the world, ending up in Mumbai as his unplanned, last pay phone call.

Anyway, the above is a screen shot of his attempt to auction off his AOL job for a dollar on eBay. Why do this, you ask? Well, he hated his job, but AOL couldn't fire him, because he was the one that created their entire look. He once even told a superior that he couldn't possibly make a deadline because he didn't live on the same space and time continuum that said boss did.

Neither one of these events got him fired.

I'm almost positive you will not be able to read the above, so if you've come this far in my post, you will have the luxury of enjoying its conceptual brilliance as well as its absurdity. You may also unfortunately notice the lack of a "Buy It Now" button, which I was sad to not see as well.

Heading: AOL JOB Graphic Art Designer Position America Online - (eBay item 110168540255 end time Sep-19-07 17:52:02 PDT)

Body: A prestigious Senior Designer JOB is yours now for pennies on the dollar and with no reserve. This is Big. This is up there with the Yahoos, the Googles, the Adobe Systems, and even those fancy start-ups in downtown San Francisco! Seriously. The upper **k plus bennies. I will even throw in all my personal belongings, and the 'cotchkeys' that I have collected over the years, basically everything within my pod walls that is not nailed down or chained. And with some "Sweet Sweetness" I could be coaxed into throwing in my Rossi 45R Burr Grinder, and my new Sacco Espresso Machine. And even set you up with some pretty cool co-workers, get you fit in nice.

I enjoyed my years in company, and just felt it was time to let her go out into the wild, perhaps someone out there will appreciate her as much as I did. I put a lot of time into this one and I hope it shows well.

'Strong to Very Strong' ability needed to maintain, achieve and keep this position and it does need quite a bit of attention. The usual Commercial Art needs like Illustration, Logo Development, Layout, Light animation and other stuff, you know, and of course the attention span for meetings, personal time management, project management and other things that are acrobatic for most artists.

Cheers,

Mediascapegoat

Ps. Just put the dot com after the name. Good Luck.

^ (just an aside, mediascapegoat.com is Dino's website which received a spike in in-flow during the two days it took AOL to realize the ad was up and to call eBay to take it down.)

From DC to Fredericksburg to Manassas, my final stop en route back to Pittsburgh was Leesburg, VA. It was a quick stop as I had only one objective for this small, colonial town:

Peanut Soup.

I'm going to cut to the chase and just say that it tasted like milk-thinned Peter Pan peanut butter. I only say Peter Pan, because it has an odder consistency and more sweetness than the other brands and that was exactly this flavor. Why I thought it would be any different, I'm not sure, but I can't say that it was one of my favorite culinary endeavors. Nonetheless, it was worth a shot.

Imagine being one of 900 Confederate men patiently waiting for over 10,000 Union troops to come over this hill at Manassas.

(Shot taken from the old Stone House which served as a field hospital during both Bull Run Battles in 1861, then 1862.)

Isn't it always about slick rhythm and smooth chops?

For more information on this photo, please contact the photographer.

(My photo opportunities courtesy of Buckley and the guys at Apple Music in Fredericksburg, VA.)

Ok, so leg 2 of "Adventure DC" was in Fredericksburg, VA. Marble-sized hail kinda put the shooting day to rest, but to keep within the bounds of productivity, we moved our business meeting a few hours up and relocated it from an office setting to the friendly neighborhood pub. It seems that my "business meetings" since I've come home from Asia have been a lot more fun than what I remember prior. The killer thing too is that I am just as productive during as I ever was before, but it's the decisions my brain makes post-meeting that sometimes fall into the, "Oi" category... nothing regrettable, just logic-less.

This shot is a product of a post-meeting, logic-less wandering through Fredericksburg and a stop at the local pharmacy. Not bad night photography for a small town and a photographer who had been enjoying Bell's Two-Hearted Ale for a majority of the evening.... a favorite of hers in the hoppy category, might I add.

My "artsy freak" (name lovingly given in a Blitzkrieg-esque IM assault from America's #1 heckler) take on the escalators at the Dupont Metro station.

I could have flipped this reflection, but I kinda like it upside down. You don't see too much of anything being turned on its head these days, and I'm sorry Mr. Lincoln, just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't think you mind breaking conventions though, so I hope you are okay with it.

By the way, you look great on my brand new pennies - ya still got it, Abe... just don't shave the beard.

Not my favorite monument, but a nice contrast.

This is a little known fact, but these pretty little things were actually to blame for the chaos in the pacific theater in WWII.

Ok, ok, just kidding, but that would be... interes...well, stupid. The real story about the cherry blossoms is that we banked about 3,000 from a dude named Yukio Ozaki, mayor of Tokyo, in 1912. It was a gift to strengthen the growing friendship between Japan and the United States, but as everyone knows, ended up being a fairly futile gesture in the buddies department, twenty-some years later.

However, the US did send Flowering Dogwoods to Japan in 1915 as a reciprocal gift, but this is where I'm thinkin' we had some problems. Nowhere in my 10-minute research could I find the number of trees sent to Japan. Hm. Maybe we short-changed the Japanese and THAT's where they said, hey, this sucks, maybe this Hitler guy isn't so bad... he has a lovely garden... and as I write this, I'm really hoping none of my former history professors read this, especially you, Jenkins.

Anyway, today, more than 3,700 cherry trees are planted around the Tidal Basin, bringing countless visitors to DC for the two weeks in late March and early April for the annual Cherry Blossom Festival - all because the Japanese wanted to be pals.

Yeah, I'm lame (^), but deal with it. I was quite happy with this shot. It's not that the colors are great, or that the composition is great, but that the content is great. That beside the point though, how can one not be happy with drive-by shots?

Since I already admitted to liking shiny things and occasionally wearing pink, I might as well say, that I can be a sap too. Luke, I'm sorry to shatter your illusion, buuuut it's too much work to deny it and don't get me wrong, I'll still kick your butt if it's necessary.