garrison beau scott

The beauty of the twin-lens set up with the ground glass viewer is that you don’t need to put the thing to your face to view the scene. And when I’m out walking around with my Yashica-Mat, there are times when I just so happen to look down and catch a glimpse through the glass of something.

Walking along the trails of the Charles on a rainy day, I found a look-out point and decided to get a different view of the river. And by chance, when the camera was pointed at the wet wood, I got a look at something different.

Luck? Sometimes it helps.

They say it’s all about location, and as soon as I moved to the new house and realized we lived in the same neighborhood as a knuckle-dragging moron who likes to fire up his pipe-challenged Harley at 5 in the morning, the concept of location couldn’t have been more sharply illustrated.

Is it too much to ask for a rogue left-handed turn while this cro-mag is pre-occupied with the bugs he’s catching in his slack-jawed mouth? Not a casket mind you, just a full-body cast for the next nine months and I think we’re even.

But I digress. My point is, that location is to real estate, what composition is to photography. I think most people would live in a converted barn should it be placed on 100 acres of beach-front property. But most would happily pass living next to the imbecile we’re stuck with even if it was in their dream house. Unless of course that dream house was wallpapered with sound-proofing and came with noise-seeking missile launchers.

Back to the subject at hand, composition. You can make anything look good if you compose it so as to tap into the emotional quotient. And if you’re blessed with finding subject matter that’s already stunning, you’re now putting that dream house on that beach-front property. And if you properly expose it? That’s like doing a Neil Peart solo on cro-mag’s ear drums.

Just returning the favor.

My original impetus to become a photographer was to document my children’s lives, even though at the time I made this decision, my first child was still more than ten years from being born. As I pursued the craft, one of the more important aspects of the medium became the idea and responsibility of being able to capture not just first steps, but the things in life that become forgotten, overlooked, and ignored. Things that are basically rendered unimportant.

But they’re not unimportant. Not to me. In fact it’s the exact opposite. I’m of the thought that there are tiny pieces of this life that build the greater scene, and to neglect those pieces, only creates an unfinished picture. Fuck that.

I think it’s our obligation as living beings to complete our pictures, to fill them with all the glorious detail that exists around us. Even if it’s broken wood meant to keep you out.

After a week or so, I’m back to posting. My entire world was put on hold as I played host to a house of family in visiting from California. My Mother, my sister, and her four children. Let’s just say it was chaos and leave it at that.

So I’m going to ease back into this with a favorite pursuit of mine, composition.

It’s hot, humid, sticky and I’m feeling rather listless. And as I’m very much a list person, that means I’m generally f*cked. And so too, are you dear reader, should you have come here today hoping to find any bit of wisdom or insight as to why I do what I do.

I apologize for having none to offer other than I get off on walking around taking snaps like the one that follows. But you already knew that, right?

Maybe tomorrow I’ll have more to give. Until then, I’m booting the offspring out of the kiddie pool and finding a bottle of ice cold beer.

Oh, wait, here’s a bit of nuggetty wisdom. Summer in Boston is a suck pit of suck.