garrison beau scott

There are things in this life that are inherently good. The last bite of s’more, refrigerator art galleries, cold pillows and heavy blankets, Krazy Fiesta’s remix of Chromeo’s “Me and My Man.”

That shit is dope.

Anyway, so it was that I went off into the 30 degree night, iPod pumping, camera and tri-pod in tow to look for some more inherently cool goodness. And this is what I found.

• Walking alone without a care as to how goofy you look grooving to Krazy Fiesta is inherently good.

• Hand-made wool skullcaps that are big enough to fit over the headphones pumping Krazy Fiesta are inherently good.

• The sight of your breath shrouding the darkened windows of the houses you goofily funk your way past while geeking out to Krazy Fiesta is inherently good.

• Standing alone, in the middle of a frozen field, looking at a massive tree, under a sky of stars, with a camera, tri-pod and Krazy Fiesta pumping in the headphones worn snug under a hand-made wool skullcap as your breath joins the atmosphere, knowing that your pillow at home is cool and the blankets are heavy is inherently good.

A shot across the bow of the S.S. Photography is Not An Art? No, not really. Though I will rally behind the argument in favor of my chosen medium’s inclusion into the realm of the high arts.

When the day is over, no matter the medium, it’s still about light and subject and composition. I don’t think you can escape that. Substitute tone/melody for light and music can be included in that set of rules.

Anything worth building needs a foundation.

There’s something cool about an airport. The world at your feet, the people coming and going. That being said, a train platform, even if it’s only a commuter rail like this one at an Oakland B.A.R.T. station is just as cool, if not more so for a few different reasons.

At the airport, for the most part, you get on a plane with everyone else, arrive at your destination with everyone else, and that’s that. Return your seat to the upright position. Unless you’re trying to make a connecting flight, and there’s not a lot of fun involved with that endeavor.

On a train, people come and go, it’s a much more organic flow of travel. Departures and arrivals happening simultaneously, you witness them, and become part of it. On a train, you can get up, change your seat, change your point of view and those who you share it with. On a train you can get off, have a look around and get back on. On a train you don’t have to take your shoes off to get on.

Yes, they’re back, shots from a parking lot. Digital. I know, it’s just, well, I kind of like these. And they’re already scanned as they’re, well, digital.

I feel like Frank the Tank in “Old School” having promised his wife no beer, and then someone offers him a beer bong and next thing you know…naked.

You can bet I’m not getting naked, but it still feels dirty some how…digital.

Once it hits the lips…

By the way, this is the one image that sparked this whole series to begin with, so blame it on these pixels, okay?

I have a younger half-brother, who I believe is going on seven. His name is Cole. I call him Cannonball. Cole’s class is currently reading the story of a boy, who, after becoming flattened via a bulletin board, decides to mail himself to far away places.

And that is how I made the acquaintance of Flat Stanley. He mailed himself to me, with the hope of seeing some of the historical places Boston has to offer. Like Fenway Park. You see, Cole is a huge baseball fan, and I guess he shared that passion with his flat friend.

So yesterday I took ol’ Stanley out for a trip around New England starting at 4 Yawkey Way. We also headed up North to a cool spot where we found a lobster fleet as well as an amazing view of the Atlantic. Until then, Stanley had only seen the Pacific, as Cole lives in California. There will be more adventures for the 2 dimensional kid as I get to keep him for a bit before he has to make it back to class and share with Cole and all his friends the adventures he had in New England.

I bring this up if only to mention, had it not been for Flat Stanley, and the wonderful soul who directed me to this spot, I’d never had seen this building, or taken a few rolls of it’s rotting skeleton. Most of it was done with the Holga and B/W, but as you can see, there were a few things that demanded color. So, another digital.