Andrew Legend

Anyone who knew anything about my family and me prior to February 12, 2017 knows about our Acura Legend, whom I named Andrew 'Andy' Legend.

Andy is a 1991 Acura Legend. He's rosewood colored - not beige, not silver, not gray - rosewood. My parents purchased him in October of 1991 and he is practically my little brother.

Over the course of Andy's lifetime, nearly everything broke. The list of things that didn't break is shorter, so I shall list them:

  1. Engine
  2. Transmission

See how short that was?

To give you an idea of what I mean, here are a few of the stranger things that broke on/in Andy:

  • Gas Gauge - this broke before I even started driving him in 2005
  • Every power window, all four
  • Passenger side inside door handle (I'm still sorry to all those who cut their finger on it)
  • These little plastic panels behind the inside door handles...? I don't even know...
  • Wiper fluid shooters
  • Power antenna
    (This eventually got stuck in the 'up' position and broke off entirely in a car wash.)
  • Driver side key hole
    (Andy made me be a gentleman to everyone who rode with me.)
  • The bumper. I don't even know how many times that thing came off...but it was at least 5 times with me driving it and 2 of those times it was entirely replaced.
  • Anti-Lock Break System (ABS)
  • Only a couple of weeks before he left us, I got in one morning, adjusted my rear-view mirror, and it popped off right into my hand with part of the windshield attached to it. It literally came off with a chunk of glass. That was probably the last straw.
  • My personal favorite: the Speedometer, hence the odometer, both the trip odometer and the main odometer.

How many miles did Andy have on him? I have no clue any more. Once the speedometer started to quit working properly, the miles were no longer being logged properly either. On February 11, 2017 at 12:56, 214,060.0 miles were logged. My best terrible guess is that he had closer to 300,000 miles actually driven.

Final drive photos at Suncrest

 

Andy was even a model for me when I was taking a digital photography class. This was part of a "creative flash" assignment. Man, he looks good!

 

Back when the little guy rolled past 150,000 miles. So cute!

 

Me driving during one of many road trips.

 

Our final drive.

 

For our final drive, after more than a decade together, I took Andy down the roads we used to drive when I lived on Set Point Circle. We went up to Suncrest and took those photos.
On my way up there with him, I cried. I cried and cried.
On the way back, we drove on Wasatch Blvd - the exact stretches of road where I learned to drive with Andy. I cried and cried.
When I returned home, I told my mother about my drive and we cried and cried.

The memories made with Andy are not gone. I'll always remember the long talks with friends, even coming out to friends, my first kiss, the awe-inspiring road trips and meeting Missy Higgins, the head-clearing drives singing at the top of my lungs... Every dent, every ding, every scratch, and every crack has a memory that is still with me.

Andy, I love you. We will always share this view.

For a brief moment, the clouds cleared and reminded me that I knew this view even when I couldn't see it.

Decisive Moment (Fulton Street)

Henri Cartier-Bresson's notion of the "decisive moment" in photography was inspired by words from Cardinal de Retz. Retz's original words are, "Il n'y a rien dans ce monde qui n'ait un moment decisif."  Translated, "There is nothing in this world that does not have a decisive moment."

Here are some of my favorite moments decisively captured by some brilliant photographers:

by Henri Cartier-Bresson

by Henri Cartier-Bresson

The presence of people tends to create a "decisive moment" photograph.  How boring would this picture be without the person blurring by on their bicycle?!

Behind the Gare St. Lazareby Henri Cartier-Bresson

Behind the Gare St. Lazare
by Henri Cartier-Bresson

I'm not sure what is happening here, nor am I sure how deep this water is, but the precision of capturing this moment just before  the man's heel hits the surface of the water is outstanding - not to mention his use of an extremely imprecise camera compared to today's cameras.  This is a perfect example of a "decisive moment."

If you're interested, this is a look through Cartier-Bresson's photobook The Decisive Moment:

Girl in Fulton Streetby Walker Evans

Girl in Fulton Street
by Walker Evans

Girl in Fulton Streetby Walker Evans

Girl in Fulton Street
by Walker Evans

Which "version" do you prefer?

I prefer the image on the right; I think it is more decisive.  I feel like it is taken moments after the image on the left, just after the two men in the foreground stepped out of the shot and the woman just slightly turns her gaze.

by Brassaï

by Brassaï

by Brassaï

by Brassaï

I just love these two photos by Brassaï.  They're not traditional "decisive moment" photos because there is at least one subject in each of them staring right at the camera's lens - right at us.  He was obviously not taking these flash photographs in secret at 2am in dark at somewhat shady bars around Paris.  The subjects seem like direct participants in the capturing of these, or should I say their, moments.  Oh, and the 'kiss curls'...can't beat that.  Those will be back in style in no time.

Woman on the Street with Her Eyes Closedby Diane Arbus

Woman on the Street with Her Eyes Closed
by Diane Arbus

Blinks don't last very long.  People also don't walk down the street with their eyes closed very often.  Was this taken during a blink?  How long did this blink last?  Was the woman standing with here eyes closed, taking in a deep breath of fresh air, before opening them again and continuing her stroll down the street?

Loyalist militiaman at the moment of death, Cerro Muriano, September 5, 1936by Robert Capa

Loyalist militiaman at the moment of death, 
Cerro Muriano, September 5, 1936
by Robert Capa

What could be a more decisive moment for a photographer than watching your subject get shot and ultimately die?  The constant moral dilemma of war photography: take the picture, or save the soldier?

World's Fair, New York
by Garry Winogrand

You must click this picture and see it in its larger form.  Each individual person on this bench has a story, and it's really fun to make up their stories! I wrote a poem inspired by this photo.

Untitledby Garry Winogrand

Untitled
by Garry Winogrand

I will never admit I know what is going on in this photograph, but it is definitely carrying the essence of "decisive moment."

Los Angeles, Californiaby Garry Winogrand

Los Angeles, California
by Garry Winogrand

Oh the shadows!  Plus, the women, the man in the wheelchair, and the child turning to look at it all.  Just wonderful!

Marilyn Monroeby Richard Avedon

Marilyn Monroe
by Richard Avedon

Surprise.  I bet you saw this coming.  I don't think I need to say more about this spectacular portrait than I already have. ;-)  My FAVORITE decisive moment.

See Richard Avedon's Marilyn Monroe and Today I Asked Why.

Meudonby André Kertész

Meudon
by André Kertész

The photograph on the far right is the one truly titled Meudon. I wasn't a huge fan of this picture when I first saw it, but I became a fan when I saw this sequence of shots. Meudon is the perfect example of a decisive moment. Here's the photograph alone:

Meudonby André Kertész

Meudon
by André Kertész

I will end the photographs with this:

Greta Garboby Edward Steichen

Greta Garbo
by Edward Steichen

At first glance, this looks like a simple portrait - not a decisive moment.  But, according to my History of Photography professor, during this photoshoot, both Greta and Edward were getting a little bit frustrated. Greta leaned on the backside of a chair with a "my hair is driving me crazy!" gesture pulling back her hair and resting her elbows on the back of the chair. *snap* Decisive moment. Beautiful.

Some of Life's Decisive Moments:

Saying "I love you" for the first time...and waiting for him to say something (anything!) back.
Just some personal experience speaking here.

What's wrong?"
If you're asked this, you're not hiding it very well.  Is it worth unloading it all?
Is it worth burdening this person with what is "wrong"?
Do they actually care?  Will they understand?
Will they judge?  Will they offer unsolicited advice?

Running a red light...
a yellow light...
a purple light.
Crash.  Bang.  911.
Let's catch the later movie; we're not going to make it in time.

Stepping into a street before the beeps for the blind.
It's stranger than fiction.

"Deciding to write a cute boy on Facebook." - RTH
Yes, I meet people online.

Top of a step ladder.
Tippie toes...bad idea.

Entering an elevator.
Will you make it?

Hitting "Send," Clicking "Publish," Pressing "Share," and "Tweet."
Social media is not, and will not, be the death of me.  It only brings life.
It brings it in so many different ways and gives me so many verb options
for getting it all out there for you to read.

"Do you want to be boyfriends?" - JLH
"Do you?"  *sigh*  "Yes..."


Will you marry me?

Today I Asked Why

I wrote this story as a paper for my History of Photography class (ARTH 3600) in September 2010.

Writing dialogue is something I am not accustomed to.  There were voices in my head...each with distinct personalities.  The photographers in the conversation you are about to read are Timothy O'Sullivan, H.P. Robinson, and Julia Margaret Cameron.

Today I Asked Why

“I’m late, I’m late, I’m late!” I loudly mutter as I run through the door to my café. I like to call it “my” café because the actual owner let me decorate the south wall with whatever I wanted. I don’t know…it makes it feel like mine. I chose nothing fancy, nothing too extravagant. This large wall has one single photograph. I dare say this photograph is the best portrait ever taken. But that’s just my humble opinion. The image enshrined on the south wall is none other than Richard Avedon’s Marilyn Monroe.

Beautiful, isn’t it? Isn’t she? The rawness in her posture and facial expression is rare enough to view in person, let alone capture in a photograph… Anyway, as I mentioned, I was late for work. As I ran inside, the opaque cloudy sky released itself and, in a heartbeat, it was pouring. As I stood in the doorway, I could already sense my boss wasn’t even upset I was late. Why? Because he knows what a downpour means: customers! A café is prime refuge from a deluge. I unexpectedly get nudged from behind. I turn around to see a dozen people under the awning wishing to get inside. I step out of the way as the customers quickly trickle inside. 

Being the lowly busboy, I rush around the café gathering empty glasses, mugs, plates, and bowls, clearing room for our new wet customers. Once everyone was settled and we began to get a handle on things, I glanced to the south wall and smiled at Marilyn. Sitting at the table immediately across from her was an unusual trio of regular customers. I didn’t notice them come in with the thunderstorm rush…were they here before I arrived? Front row seat or not, they always watch Marilyn from wherever they lounge. Today I asked why. 

“Why? Why?!?” the woman jokingly jeers back at me. “Because it’s so beautiful, so soft, so…haunting! It’s simply stunning!” 

“I honestly don’t understand why you two like this picture so much,” the older gentleman interjects. “It’s just another plain picture of Marilyn Monroe. There are thousands of them and this one is no different. It’s not even artistic!” At this, the woman flushes an impatient shade of red but continues to sit and listen. The man continues, “Avedon just snapped this picture and did nothing to it – not one dodge, not a single trick, and not a thought of conjuration. A child could do that!” 

The younger man lightheartedly steps in, “What is a ‘conjuration’ anyway?” The three of them laugh as the younger man looks back at me and says, “I’m Timothy, by the way.” He points to the other two and introduces them as Julia and H.P. I introduce myself as I grab a chair to sit with them. “Don’t let me interrupt,” I say. “This was just getting exciting!” 

Julia draws us back into the conversation by asking H.P., “What would need to be different for you to accept this as a piece of art?” 

“Oh, so many things!” he replies. “First, the picture should have been taken with her looking more cheerful and less awkward. Photography should elevate the subject and avoid such awkward forms.” 

“But,” interjects Timothy, “that’s why I find this portrait to be so striking! Her ‘awkwardness’ makes this portrait different from her others. I haven’t taken many portraits myself, but I know a good one when I see one. Unfortunately, I instead know war.  And I know how to capture it in a way to convey its horror and lack of glamour. My goal was never to romanticize such atrocities. I wanted to show the world the death and dread it produces. Avedon took a picture of a devastated battlefield here! Marilyn looks like a mess compared to the thousands of glamorous shots we typically see of her. Marilyn Monroe was a bombshell in so many ways and Avedon captured her post-detonation.” 

Timothy’s passion causes the rest of us to sit in silent awe for a moment. Julia then slowly and softly breaks the silence saying, “As I’ve been listening,” her tone becoming more delighted, “I noticed how perfectly the sharpness of her face is balanced with the softness of everything else. You two would probably call the soft glow ‘out of focus.’ But what is focus – and who has a right to say what focus is the legitimate focus?” 

H.P. jumps at this comment and says, “The blurriness of her torso would make it impossible to even use in a combination print. Much more planning and thought would have to be put into this portrait to make it useful in my art photography.” 

“Planning and thought?” Timothy questions. “Words spoken by a man who photographs solely in his studio! When you’re out in the field documenting war or landscape, you record precisely what you see through the ground glass and do absolutely nothing to alter it.” 

“I don’t alter the photographs, Timothy,” H.P. calmly rebuts, “I combine them. I am following the encouragement to ‘not merely amuse, but to instruct, purify, and ennoble’ with my art photography. I will admit, with the world now knowing Marilyn’s rather tragic story, this image could certainly be used in an allegory to educate the public. I just believe, for a portrait to be considered art, the ‘artist’ needs to have more involvement than simply pressing a button.” 

“Allegories can be done without combination printing, you know,” says Julia. “You’ve seen my allegories. Yes, I did pose them, but I posed everything at once for a single photograph as to avoid combination printing. I find the printing process for a single photograph to be laborious enough... Printing from multiple negatives simultaneously would drive me bonkers! H.P., you said this portrait could possibly be used in an allegory. In my opinion, this portrait of Marilyn is an allegory on its own, combining my two favorite styles of art photography – portrait and allegory. However, Avedon didn’t pose her. It was completely unplanned. This singular moment could never be planned out in a studio for a combination print.” 

“Exactly,” confirms Timothy. “Avedon’s Marilyn Monroe combines the real and the ideal, sacrificing nothing of Truth. So let us take it for what it is rather than trying to reinvent it. I really have to agree with Julia here…” 

“I wouldn’t have expected any different, Timothy,” says H.P. with a smirk on his face. After a short pause, H.P. looks me in the eye and asks, “So, what do you think?” 

“Me?” I hesitantly reply. “Well…um…I’m a little biased toward this photograph…” 

Timothy laughs saying, “You think you’re biased? You’ve been listening to the conversation, haven’t you?” 

Many ideas and quotations were borrowed from Beaumont Newhall’s The History of Photography, pages 73-78. Though they are not explicitly cited, most of the quotes and ideas are recognizable from class discussion alone. 

Burdened Bench

Hobos sleep
Kids climb
Women breastfeed
Lovers cuddle
Parents watch
Cats catnap
Dogs are tethered
Birds drop
Gossip whispers
Newspaper reads
Women womanized
Men hypermasculinized
Passers-by people-watched
Hair mocked
Clothing scoffed
Jealousy onlooks
Coworkers conspire
Strangers confide
Always vacant
Until needed

What a burden for slabs of wood and cast metal to uphold.

Inspired by:

Garry WinograndWorld's FairNew York, 1964

Garry Winogrand
World's Fair
New York, 1964

Accordion Man

 I'm rather proud of this picture.  I took this picture while I was in a digital photography class a couple of years ago.  It's no mystery I was taught how to use Photoshop because of this class, so I thought I would show you this picture in a "before and after" style.  "Before" is the original photograph - the digital negative.  "After" is my final cropped and edited version of the photo.  For those of you that don't know, if you click on a photo in a blog, you can see a big version of it.  I encourage this practice.  Enjoy.

The best part of this photo is the fact that I was walking, looking forward, holding my camera near the bottom of my ribcage with the lens aimed to my right side.  *click*  Got it.  Miracle.  Oh, and this guy is a redhead!

Before:

accordion-man-original.jpg

After:

accordion-man-edited.jpg

What to do...what to do?

I have desires burning deep inside my soul.
They burn so hot and so real...
     My flesh tingles and flushes, 
     My eyes swell and drip,
     My vocal cords seize and scream.

Physics, psychology, math, poly sci, astronomy, photography...
Have I chosen the right thing?
     I want to make a difference.
     I want to speak out.
     I want to speak up.  
But I'm terrified to do more than I already am.
What to do...what to do?

Do I want to be an "activist?"
What is an activist?
Am I already one?
     Can a physics major be a gay activist?
     A gay Mormon activist?
     A gay Mormon physics major activist?
Is that allowed?

Is it dangerous?
Is it treacherous to pursue?
Which side is more threatening anyway?
Of whom should I be more wary?
     Both?
     Neither?
     Have I already ruffled everyone's feathers?

Fence-sitting sounds so simple...
But it's not that easy.
     I still have fears.
     I still hesitate before saying I'm gay.
     I even hesitate before saying I'm Mormon. 

I have friends who don't understand, 
But who let me do my own thing;
No questions asked.
     Why don't they ask questions?
     With which part do they not agree?
It's exhausting to continually tailor my words
According to my company...

Do you know me?
Do you really know me?
Who do you think I am?
     Honestly.
I'm sorry, but,
     "You don’t know me,
      You don’t know me at all.
      You don’t know me,
      You don’t know me AT ALL."

I feel stuck.
Out of place.
Always wanting more gay friends...
     More straight friends...
     More Mormon friends...
     More gay Mormon friends...
                                              Who feel and think the way I do,
                                                   Truly,
                                              Not because it's the "right answer"
                                                   Or they can't make up their mind...
                        Who doesn't "really just want to watch each other sleep...
                        ...Sleep sleep sleep."
     More friends to occupy and distract my thoughts
From wandering and wondering what I wonder...
What to do...what to do?

I want to be in love.
I want to be head-over-heels.
I want to be wooed.
I want to want to woo.
I want a hand to hold. 
I want to care and not care.

When will I meet him?
Have I already met him?
Will I find him at school?
Work?
Through a friend?

Would acting on my activism help me find my partner in crime?

                    I want to have the courage...                                                            
                    I want to have the strength...                                                           
                    I want to have the drive...                                                               
                    I want to have the reason...                                                             
                    I want to have the security...                                                           
                    I want to have the voice...                                                              
                    I want to have the sense...                                                              
                    I want to have the stamina...                                                           
                    I want to have the energy...                                                            
                    I want to have the support...                                                           
                    I want to have the enthusiasm...                                                      
                    I want to have the confidence...                                                      

to

                                                                                             end the hate.
                                                                                    end the ignorance.
                                                                                           end the abuse.
                                                                                         end the disgust.
                                                                                 end the self-loathing.
                                                                                               end the lies.
                                                                                        end the suicides.
                                                                                  end the helplessness.
                                                                                 end the hopelessness.
                                                                                        end the excuses.
                                                                                           end the doubt.
                                                                                             end the fear.

What to do...what to do?
Fearlessly be myself.