THANSGIVING 11-21-07

Hi!

 

It seems appropriate that this email will fall on Thanksgiving week. About a month ago I went to Northern California to shoot the last dairy farm for Horizon Organic Dairy calendar. For those of you who have been here for the last year, you’ve seen a lot of cows and some of the most genuine people that I’ve had the pleasure to meet. I am thankful for the gracious way they each opened their lives to me.

When I left Larkspur, about 10 miles North of the Golden Gate Bridge, fog filled every valley for the fist hundred miles. I love it when the sun looks more like the moon and each picture looks like it’s shot in black and white.

By the time I reached the farm I was about 50 miles from the Oregon border and the sun looked like itself again. It was about noon. Shane and Kristina, the owners of the dairy, had just returned from running a marathon through The Avenue of the Giants, a redwood forest about 40 miles from the farm. That, in itself, made them unique for what you might think of dairy farmers. Another thing that set them apart was that neither of them had been raised on a dairy farm. This was a lifestyle they purposely chose for themselves and for their children.

 I had about an hour before the family was ready for pictures. They recommended that I check out the owls in the barn. I found the owls resting just where Kristina told me they would be. The barn was illuminated only from the light glowing through the wooden slats of the back wall. It reminded me of a giant stained glass window in some European Cathedral. It was perfectly quiet. As I meditated on the sacredness of the space a miracle happened. One of the barn owls spread it’s 3 1/2 foot wingspan and flew from one end of huge barn to the other. It was perfectly quiet. It was beyond the experience of my senses to see without an accompanying sound.  

 

This is, of course, where I began to take the family pictures. We included Kristina’s parents who also give a hand on the farm. 

 

Next, as is always the case on a farm, it was time for chores. I was very impressed with how Shane and Kristina raised their children. Four (and a half) year old Kyler and two year old Sienna had complete run of the farm. Doing chores wasn’t a chore. It was just a way of life. It was something that empowered them with a sense belonging and self worth.  

They enjoyed showing me how they helped feed the calves as much as showing me how big a splash they could make by walking through a mud puddle.

Kristina was kind enough to fix me a sandwich so I could have something to eat while I shot sunset. I was up and at the farm in time for the first milking before dawn.

 As the sun rose I headed out to the pastures for pictures. I can’t put my finger on it, but everything seemed to have an order, a harmony.

Perhaps it was because I have been out standing in a field at dawn with a herd of cows so many times this year or it was just my feeling of gratitude, but everywhere I looked there was a picture.

At every turn there was a shot and a perspective that I had never seen before.

Later that morning we did more family pictures. At the end of their farm road is one of the giant oversized painted artworks of farmers that dot the California countryside. I couldn’t pass up using it as one of the backgrounds for photos. I gave Shane and Kyler two hats that I had been given by Horizon. I loved the way Kyler filled the hat and the way he looked up to his father. After thanking them all for sharing their lives with me I drove off feeling thankful for this year long project and for the opportunity it gave me to meet such remarkable individuals.

On the way home I drove through The Avenue of the Giants redwood forest. It’s always a trick to actually portray the scale of these 300 foot tall trees. The fallen tree on the right only shows half of it’s length. It had fallen over another downed tree which suspended the 150 foot length that is visible in the picture. I could easily walk under the this fallen log without having to lean over.

 

Besides the majesty of the trees there is also the magic of the forest itself. That magic is sometimes seen in the simplest spot of light.

Thank you for being with me for this most wonderful year. Writing these messages have shown me a great deal about how I take pictures and have made me a better photographer. And, more importantly, they have told me about why I take pictures and have made me a better human being. I’m not sure when I’ll be sending the next installment. If it’s not until next year let me wish you a Happy Thanksgiving and as my friend Cha Cha says, “Have a Merry Now and a Happy Forever!” If you want to be removed just send a reply with “No Thanks” in the subject line. If you received this from a friend and want to be added to the list send me an email. I will be delighted to include you.  jd@jerrydownsphoto.com.

Thank You!

Love, Jerry

Jerry Downs Photography
P.O. Box 1082
Larkspur, CA 94977
415-686-2369
http://www.jerrydownsphoto.com/

“We are not human beings having a spiritual experience.
We are spiritual beings having a human experience.”
-Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955)

MAKING CONNECTIONS 10-23-07

TRIP-2 ENTRIES   2 OF 2 -END 

Hi!

 

Joe and I stayed in Twin Falls, Idaho the night before our assignment at the farm about 20 miles away. Behind the desk at the motel was a large picture of a huge waterfall. I asked the desk person if she knew where the picture was taken. Having just driven through the semi-arid flat planes of Idaho, I was surprised when she answered, “It’s about 15 minutes from here.” We didn’t have to be to the farm until noon so we stopped at the falls just after dawn. The water flow is controlled for irrigation upstream so the full effect of Shoshone Falls only happens in June when there has been a very wet winter. I love watching water. The exact same water that was on the planet a billion years ago is the same water that is flowing down this stretch of The Snake River or the water that flows through our own body. The water cycle of river to ocean to clouds to rain and snow to river has happen so many times that the water we’re looking at has fallen over these falls many times. It has happened so many times that the water in our bodies has, at one time or another, made the same trip over these rocks in Idaho.

I have shot so many dairies in the last year that becoming one of the herd has become second nature. The scene has become so familiar that small differences in the pattern become more visible. I, also, find myself finding ever new ways to see my fellow creatures.

(As you have witnessed in my past emails), most (80%) of Horizon’s milk comes from small family farms. This dairy in Paul, Idaho is the largest of all their dairies. It covers many square miles. They milk over 4,000 cows a day. That requires a lot of hay…and corn, plenty of pasture, irrigation and manpower.  Right now they grow almost eighty percent of the food cycle that ends up as milk that ends up in the bones of people across America.

Because the pastures and alfafa and corn fields don’t have any herbicides or pesticides the land is much more of a healthy natural environment. There are more insects, more small mammals and more hawks – each being controlled and prospered because of one another.

Fortunately, it happened that we were there for the groundbreaking of the new dairy and milking barn. As usual, Joe manned the camera and I worked the crowd. Except for the two women who worked in the office they were all men, all farmers, all people who have been working on the land for years, all people who knew how to work as a team.

One of things I enjoy most about being a photographer is meeting and being with so many different kinds of people. Each has their own language and way of being with one another. With this group there is a lot of good natured joshing. “Hey Jerry, why don’t you touch that fence wire and tell me if it shocks you.” ” Make sure you watch where you’re stepping.” While setting up the shot I did a lot of mock yelling and and playful giving of grief. “I thought I told you to move over there”…..”You call that a smile?” It’s distincly different than lining up a group of people in suits when I’m dressed in a suit.

The next morning a group of sales people from the home office in Broomfield, Colorado were there to get a fist hand look at the workings of the farm and dairy. While we were visiting the maternity barn I asked Shawn, the farm manager, to stand in front of the sign that asked all who enter to treat each cow with patience and kindness. Two of the group were standing around in the back of the shot. I yelled, “Hey you two. Get out of the way.” Everyone paused at this foux pas and said in unison, “Say please.” I immediately came over and while giving one of them a hug said, “I’m so sorry. Forgive me. I forgot who I was talking to. I’ve been hanging out with these characters a couple of days.” I motioned to Shawn, Jamie and Tom. After I had taken the foot out of my mouth and we were all on even footing we hoofed it over to the calf nursery.

Of course, we took advantage of the magic that happens when the rotation of the Earth causes the Sun to disappear and reappear.

As always, after leaving a farm, I have an appreciation for the people and the land that feed us. It renews my own connection to the Earth. After writing these emails I feel more connected to the world, to you. Thanks for coming along. If you want to be removed just send a reply with “No Thanks” in the subject line. If you received this from a friend and want to be added to the list send me an email. I will be delighted to include you.  jd@jerrydownsphoto.com 

Happy Trails!

Love, Jerry

Jerry Downs Photography
P.O. Box 1082
Larkspur, CA 94977
415-686-2369
http://www.jerrydownsphoto.com/

Some trails are happy ones,
Others are blue.It’s the way you ride the trail that counts,
Here’s a happy one for you.Happy trails to you,
Until we meet again.
Happy trails to you,
Keep smiling until then.

Who cares about the clouds when we’re together?
Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather.

Happy trails to you,
Until we meet again.

Roy Rogers and Dale Evans

Correction:

I found the lyrics to “Tumbling Tumbleweeds” in my last email on the internet, and yet, as my friend Jenny Frank from Boulder pointed out, though recorded by Marty Robbins, among others, it was actually written by Bob Nolan, of The Sons of the Pioneers.

Love, Jerry

Jerry Downs Photography
P.O. Box 1082
Larkspur, CA 94977
415-686-2369
http://www.jerrydownsphoto.com/

Some trails are happy ones,
Others are blue.It’s the way you ride the trail that counts,
Here’s a happy one for you.Happy trails to you,
Until we meet again.
Happy trails to you,
Keep smiling until then.

Who cares about the clouds when we’re together?
Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather.

Happy trails to you,
Until we meet again.

Roy Rogers and Dale Evans

Correction:

I found the lyrics to “Tumbling Tumbleweeds” in my last email on the internet, and yet, as my friend Jenny Frank from Boulder pointed out, though recorded by Marty Robbins, among others, it was actually written by Bob Nolan, of The Sons of the Pioneers.

That’s Bob back there on the bass. That’s Roy Rogers right there on the right.

FIRST & LASTING IMPRESSIONS 7-22-07

TRIP-3 ENTRIES   2 OF 3

Hi! 

 

 

As I drove into Colorado I felt the connection and also found myself creating some sort of separation simply because I was born, raised and lived there for so many years. Having crossed so many state lines lately it just seemed odd that this one would make any difference. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why it felt different. Then I remembered that it was all in my mind. It had nothing to do with the environment. It was just something I made up to make sense of the world around me.

I remembered a picture I took not far from where I was driving.  I have been using it for years in talks and articles to illustrate how “the eye is blind to what the mind can’t see.” It’s a horse, of course, but which way is the horse facing?* I love optical illusions. They remind me about the malleability of reality. When I remember that I am making up my picture of the world from my own lines of thought, life itself becomes the ultimate creative act.

 Just before I hit Ft. Collins, on Hwy 285, the sun was about to set and it was about to get dark. I gave up any ideas about taking more pictures. I was sure if I headed East I would run into I-25 and make better time getting to Boulder. After all, I grew up here. I got lost. I found myself going around a large lake and was heading back North. When I looked over at the sunset on the lake I had to stop. As I got out of the car with my camera I realized that I hadn’t shot a picture of an actual sunset in years. I am usually looking in the other direction at the golden light falling on the environment. Which was exactly opposite of when I first started taking pictures. I was so seduced by the beauty that I never looked around. Now I can add this to the hundreds of sunset pictures I took in my twenties and look forward to, once again, observing that magical moment when the rotation of the earth obscures a star. 

Still lost, I came upon yet another lake. Out of the corner of my eye some circles brought my tires to a stop. Two kids with innertubes were still playing in the water. The golden light was replaced by a shimmering silver that seemed just as precious. I got out my tripod and introduced myself to the group of people on the shore. I asked the man with the bicycle if I could take his silhouette with the two tubes. I took a few more shots from a distance and some close-ups of the trees. The kids got out of the water and I gave them each one of my prints. I got everyone’s email, thanked them and was back on my way having made making better use of my time getting to Boulder.

On my way to Evergreen to see my sister Eileen and her husband Jake, who is more like a brother, I stopped to see an old friend. Just off the road, just South of Boulder on Hwy 93 lives The Tree. It (It feels funny to call it an “it”. The stature of this being, standing alone on the hill, framed by an opening in The Rocky Mountains, seems silly.) has lived there for longer than I have been alive. I stopped hundreds of times for a visit on my travels to and from where my family lived on Lookout Mountain in Golden. I stopped while I was going to the same place when only my parents lived there and again when only my father lived there and again while he was about to die when I lived there. It was a good place to stop. The Tree has seen a lot and is a very good listener. I have hundreds of pictures of this fine individual in every season, during every part of the day. The shot on the bottom left was taken when we shared a view of a forest fire in Eldorado Canyon. The one on the right was taken at two in the morning when we celebrated New Year’s Day in 2001. In the quiet, as the camera shutter was open for ten minutes, we watched the full moon illuminate the ground as the clouds and stars flew by.

On the Forth of July I went to my friend Sherrie Hart’s annual party. When I come back to Boulder I try to spend some one on one time with different friends. It was great to see so many of my circle of artist friends that I’ve shared so much with in the thirty years I lived there. This is the first time we took a group portrait. After we got everybody in place, after I quit trying to get everybody to laugh and make it back to my place before the self-timer went off, after we waited for the dog to walk through the picture, we had a record of the event.

When I put this picture in the email and tried to see it through most of your eyes and I thought, “It looks like a group portrait of a bunch of people.” If you don’t know them, what interest could it possibly hold.

I’m noticing that I want to introduce each one. I could tell you what they do and the accolades they have received as radio host, film editor, realtor, one of the founders of Celestial Seasoning, inventor or the Wobble Wedge and artist of every other sort from bead work to monumental metal sculpture. But none of these people would define themselves simply by what they do. They are all individuals and each wears a number of different hats. There was very little talk at the party about work or even what we’ve been doing. I was more about life, the latest interesting thing someone heard or read, the light in Sherrie’s garden and how wonderful it was that we all got to see each other again.

Going on and on about each one would also create a bunch of words that would be just as overwhelming as looking at a bunch of faces. And, of course, I would have to leave somebody out. I didn’t even know everyone there. Take the guy in the red shirt. I don’t know what he does or his name. I do know that every time that I have seen him over the years that we just look at each other and smile. I’m happy to see him every time we meet.

The couple in front of the playhouse came right after the group photo. I took their picture from the same distance and Photoshopped them in later. They are two of the most unassuming and genuine people I have ever met. If you went on first impressions or by looking at the picture you would never guess that they created the playful and monumental artwork that hangs in the towering lobby of the Tokyo Bay Hilton. Check out the picture at the bottom of the email where I have included some websites of these most remarkable people. 

  

Later that night I went to the fireworks with a woman who I used to live with and is still a dear friend. She’s also a great photographer who specializes in intimate portraits of flowers. It got stormy for a while and we even felt a few raindrops but it all cleared.

For the whole show I set my camera on the longest exposure (30 seconds) and played with various apertures. Then I just played. I zoomed in. I zoomed out. I took exposures while I was zooming. I handheld the camera and twisted and turned it during the exposure. I put the camera on a tripod, pointed it to the place where  the fireworks filled the sky and pushed the button ever once in a while. There were even times when I remembered to just lay back on the grass and enjoy the show.  At the end, all the simultaneous explosions completely obliterated every subtle shade and colorful highlight. The picture was completely overexposed. That’s Ok. I’ve learned that when I don’t have to have it all and I can treasure the beautiful parts that that is more than enough. It’s everything.

 

Thanks for joining me my friends. It’s always good to see you. If you received this from a friend and want to be added to the list send me an email. I will be delighted to include you.  jd@jerrydownsphoto.com  If you want to be removed just send a reply with “No Thanks” in the subject line. I will be crossing the state line of California into Oregon tomorrow and I’ll be gone for a week. We’ll talk again after I return. Until then………..

Let Your Light Shine!

Jerry

Jerry Downs Photography
P.O. Box 1082
Larkspur, CA 94977
415-686-2369
http://www.jerrydownsphoto.com/

http://www.chrisbrownphotography.com/index.html

 http://www.elizabethblackart.com/

http://www.dawnsiebel.com/

http://kenbernsteinartstudio.com/

 http://www.airworks-studio.com/

http://www.thesandraphillipsgallery.com/artists/Irene%20Delka%20McCray/IreneDelkaMcCray.html

http://www.isleofview.biz/ecards/custom/ecard_custom_search.aspx

Article on Sherrie Hart’s Art Farm where the party was celebrated.

http://www.homeandgardenmag.com/articles_su05/artis.html

There are great interviews in Robin’s archive section.

http://www.tributariesradio.org/

Robert and Terry add stability to the world.

http://www.wobblewedge.com/about/

*P.S……The rump is in the back and the horse is facing forward.

HAPPY 06-17-07

 TRIP-5 ENTRIES   2 OF 5

Hi!

Joe and I were at the Staehely Valley View farm in Oregon City, Oregon just before dawn. We made a few quick introductions at the farmhouse and then excused ourselves because we had to get to work. We played with the golden light from one end to the other.

Here are the cream of the shots that I got as I laid in the grass (in the opening picture). As you can see, my subjects were udderly impressed with my technique and professionalism. I could tell that they were very moooved. You can always tell if farmers love their animals by seeing how comfortable they are around humans. These curious cows were clearly cared for.

fter milking the morning light for all it was worth we just wondered the property looking for potential locations and stopping when we found a shot. I played in the sprinkler until it was time for chores.

The farm is run by Paul and Diane Staehely and their partner Debbie Timm and her daughter Barb. The calves get fed first. The youngest ones from a bottle and the older ones from buckets. They obliged me by letting me pick from the a half dozen different colored buckets for the shots. All these women had real class and a playful style.

Next it was time to get the cows from the far pasture down to the milking barn. For the short cattle drive they used a motor bike and an atv. The machines didn’t at all startle the cows. They were all familiar with each other and what was going on…..just as it has gone on, three times a day, every day, their whole lives.

The sensibilities used to shoot art pictures on the road are the same ones used to shoot jobs. Each serves the other to make me a better photographer. For the picture on the left, I flash filled the cat. For the one on the right I exposed for the outside scene and waited until the shape of the silhouette read “cat” and then I pushed the button. Neither one of these images were what the scene looked like to the eye. They are both versions that played with the limitations of how the camera sees. Now that I think about it, no two one of our eyes would see the scene the same way either.

I had seen the open window of the door to the milking barn earlier in the day. I was looking for places to shoot a portrait in the shade where the people wouldn’t have to squint in the bright sun. Later I got Paul and Diane to be their bright eyed selves. They suggested a location down the road in front of the original family barn built generations ago. You can tell how people love each other by how comfortable they are with one another. When Joe shot the portrait on the right I knew I could direct Diane to lay her head on Paul.

Ok, back to chores. Paul took us to where he was bailing hay. I loved it when he described what the scene looked like before the tree fell down in a storm. “The tree was huge.There was a great long branch that hung out and framed Mt. Hood perfectly. When we were kids we called it the ‘Hangman’s Tree’.” I watched him in the tractor moving slowly across the flats and up and down the hills, covering every inch, gathering each blade of grass. Grass that would later be used to feed the cows who would use it to make the milk that he would sell so he could continue to have this intimate relationship with his land and family.

I wanted to get a picture of Debbie and Barb. They are both very alive and animated individuals. It was a pleasure to be in their presence. They wanted to be with their favorite cow. It was great to see how comfortable they were with one other.

Now it was time for the group picture. It’s always a group effort, a co-creation. Diane let us know how important the tractor was to Paul’s father. Paul backed it into place. Debbie and Barb chose the cow that would be most comfortable in a halter. Everyone gathered: Paul’s parents, their son (in overalls) and his wife, their daughter (in orange) and her fiancé. Perhaps it was because I was born the fifth of eleven children that, in these situations, it usually falls to me to arrange the people, get them all and the cow pointed at the camera so I can turn it over to Joe to take the shot. After we took all the pictures we needed, Joe and I stepped into the shot to get our own memento of this wonderful group of people who made us feel like family.

Diane also let us know about Paul’s Barracuda that he had in High School. It was reconditioned and in cherry condition. We couldn’t pass up this opportunity to add a few pictures to the family album.

After we shared a sandwich with Paul, his parents and Diane we said our thanks and headed down the road to be in Washington for the next shoot at dawn the next day. As we drove along we talked about how great all the different individuals were and how the “job” part of it went. Joe started to laugh and then said, “I loved your final command when we did the family shot. None of that prep we used to do……’Now look straight into the camera. What your thinking shows up on your face. So, picture yourself in a wonderful place and smile, blah,blah,blah.’ You got everybody lined up and then just shouted, ‘Ok, you’re ready. Now, Be Happy!’ It was funny. They all were. I just had to push the button.” Sometimes that all it takes.

Thanks for sharing this great day down on the farm. If you ever have a comment about these photo essays please drop me a line. If you have a picture you’d like to share, please send it along. I love hearing from you and seeing how other people picture the world. Of course, for any reason, if you want to be removed from my mailings just send a reply with “No Thanks” in the subject line. If you are one of those who received this from a friend and want to be added to the list send me an email. I will be delighted to include you. jd@jerrydownsphoto.com

Be Happy!

Jerry

Jerry Downs Photography
P.O. Box 1082
Larkspur, CA 94977
415-686-2369
http://www.jerrydownsphoto.com/

Joe’s website:

http://www.joeburull.com/