garrison beau scott

It’s cold, dreary and the longing for the warmth of spring is overwhelming.

One of the things I like most about photography is the essence of the moment and how, more than any other medium, photography is able to capture it. It’s a hard lesson to learn, but when you see something that you think might make for a great image, then, at that moment, you have to take it. I’m pretty sure there are quite a few photographers who’ve made the mistake of thinking that they could come back later and get the shot, only to discover a car parked in the wrong spot, or a tree has been cut down, or the light isn’t right, or any other number of changes in scene that makes what they saw a memory as opposed to a photograph they can share.

I bring this up only as an observation about place. And how it can change despite a permanence to the things that make up a place. Sun, light, people, trash, snow. An unknown amount of variables determine the feel of a place. I could go back and stand in this same spot ten times, a hundred times and get as many shots.

There’s a scene from a great movie entitled “Smoke” with Harvey Keitel that pretty much sums up what I’m trying to say. Rather than try to explain the scene, I’ll just suggest watching the movie. And in the meantime I’ll offer this and all the ways it could have been different.

According to the date stamp of this post I’ve been at this blog thing for one year. Well, it’ll officially be one year exactly at 9:08 pm EST, but I’ll be having a celebratory glass of wine then, so the party will have to start a wee bit early if that’s alright with you guys.

To be honest, I’ve been aware of the impending one year mark for a few days and have been thinking about how I’d mark the occasion. What I decided on was something akin to a “Greatest Hits” record. The kind that comes with a new, previously unreleased bonus track. Or something like that. Anyway, consider this post the linear notes to this compilation.

I started this thing with a mixture of curiosity, purpose, and a desire to share not only the images, but the 1,000 words they’re supposedly worth. I also wanted to meet some other like minded souls out there who’s work inspired me and to see if I could return the favor. I consider myself to have succeeded on both counts and look forward to another year of doing just that. When I began this blog, it was very much akin to standing alone in a room with a lightbulb and a microphone. Slowly, people began to show up with their own light bulbs and decided to stay, but when that was I’m not exactly sure.

So what I’d like to do now is, link to a few of my favorite moments from the past year in case anyone missed and/or cares to check out what might have gone down in this place before they showed up. And I’d like to sincerely thank those who’ve brought their own light to this party and left it on.

•Funny Story

•Looking Back

•Race Car Driver

•Her

•Pablo

•Emmy and Her Camera

•My First Leica

•Maxxx

•Memory

•The King

•Another One From My Pops

•Chalkdust

•Eulogy

•Wild Geese

•Bonus Track

So, I was out walking around the neighborhood the other day at late dusk. It was a dreary day, wanting to rain, but too lazy to get it together. I saw a bit of color and this was it. Spring…?

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.

Has there ever been, in the history of written language, a letter with such an unfair burden to carry? And for a language that can trace its roots back to the fifth century AD, it seems a might unfair that in eight short years, a singular letter could have its reputation sullied by such an obscene force.

I say it’s time to begin repairing the damage, to return the 23rd letter of our alphabet to a place of honor instead of the ass of a joke that’s run on way too long. And please,if your country allows it, by all means vote. It used to mean something here…