I love kites.
Hey Dad, remember when I loved a kite so much that you crawled through rattlesnake-infested dunes to retrieve my runaway wind ornament?
All you dudes out there? Now that's a dad.
Friday, July 02, 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Oh hello perfect campsite.
Fortunate is not even what I would say I am. I mean, I am fortunate, but it's a word that runs much deeper than that. Summer is the time where my chosen field of work thrives and not being a salaried employee never tastes better.
I don't know that many people know what I do exactly and it's hard sometimes for me to explain. In fact, that was the main reason I kept this blog up after it started as a college extra credit assignment in Steve Manuel's photojourn class... believe it or not. I wanted to try to explain through pictures and words that your life could be whatever you wanted it to be if you worked hard, played hard and were respective and kind to people along the way. That there was nothing, save yourself, holding you back.
If you take a look back at this blog, from my first non-project-based job out of college in Asia up to now, you will absolutely see that all of the above has been true to what I believed I could accomplish. I had tried to explain in conversation once that "paying dues" didn't necessarily mean getting some CEO coffee and making copies, and the party with whom I was speaking replied, "What, so you think you are above paying dues?" "Absolutely not," I said, "I just want to pay them differently." With a shake of my head in disappointment in my explanation or in his understanding, I now have tangible proof through this silly little blog that dues have been paid (and are still being paid) on slightly different terms and that anything is possible with enough knowledge, motivation and comprehension.
A point in April of this year was my once a year, what-the-heck-am-I-doing? moment. I was watching things, people move and shake around me, and while I still had my hands on the reins, there was plenty of slack in my palm and I really wasn't sure why. How do you go from a jam-packed, three-month gallop on an Arabian Stallion to the slow trot of a Clydesdale in practically no time? I didn't even remember a graceful dismount! Sharing my concerns with one of my most trusted in New York, I merely got this is return:
"Take a step away from the edge, Ms. Harvey."
So I did. I had a look back over, stepped back and reassessed.
In a roundabout way, after a wonderfully long Monday night at a Grammy event at the Hard Rock, that's how I found myself on Assateague Island in Maryland early on a Tuesday afternoon with a $20 tent from Wal-Mart...
Monday, June 28, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
He went through the desert with General Patton and stormed the beaches of Normandy on D-Day. Convinced he was never coming home from the war, he put all of his money into a life insurance policy to make sure his parents were taken care of if he never returned.
Clearly, Pat, 91.5-years-old, of "Pat's Lunch" in Stone Harbor, NJ made it home and with nothing but a lifetime of experience packed in his G.I. bag.
Like many fellows returning from the war, Pat wanted a woman (specifically Italian because he wanted to be able to eat well) and needed work. He did indeed find both, though in the beginning, as he says, "I couldn't even buy her an ice cream cone."
It was this Italian Catholic woman's traditional father with a "no money, no marriage" policy who landed Pat his first job in a restaurant, a restaurant next to the family house in Wildwood, NJ.
From there, Pat moved up in the ranks of the restaurant business, eventually moving away to open a new place in Stone Harbor. While his homemade seafood soups are one-of-a-kind and his lobster rolls, have nothing but lump lobster meat on them, my favorite part of Pat's story is that he is the sole owner and employee of Pat's Lunch... at almost 92.
Pat is in his store at 5 a.m. everyday whipping up his creations for droves of summer shore-goers. With his new Cadillac parked outside, you know that Pat is in his element, making soup and telling stories. Before John and I walk out the door, Pat says to us,"My doctor says I should never stop working. He says it's what keeps me going."* Hmmm... where have I heard that before... Sue Shuma**...
What a generation. What a frickin' amazing generation.
*sidenote: Jen Bilec goes to a financial planner. Financial planner says, "You should think about a retirement plan." Jen Bilec says, "Haha. Retire?"
**my almost 93-year-old grandma
All five of my cameras stayed home on this trip. Photos by John McClellan on his *cough* Canon.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Bon Jovi/NMS/5.27.10
Hiking up to the top of a stadium, changing your radio to the pyro channel and waiting for the go-ahead, you watch Jon pick up his maracas via the giant LED screens and listen for "Keep the Faith" to start. You get behind your lens and have a good gut feeling about your position. A very good gut feeling.
This photo is the first round of pyro on the Thursday show. Possibly one of my favorite photos to date and definitely the best pyro display I've ever seen.




















