inauguration eve

we're on the brink of something big.

could there be a cooler place to spend the night before barack obama takes office than the washington post newsroom? i think not.

pretty stoked, but i'ts 11:15 and we have to be at our locations (mine is on the mall, roughly in front of the natural museum of american history) by 4am. because of blockades, the walk will probably take 40 minutes.

so i'm looking at approximately 3 hours of sleep tonight.

but i'm excited.
honored.
thrilled.
humbled.
freakin out.

reject technology: shoot film

there is something deeply gratifying about dropping off film to a lab and having no idea what will come back. it's a total surprise.

i have always liked surprises. i was never the kid that wen poking around in closets or shaking boxes before christmas hoping to find out ahead of time what i was getting. i much prefer suspense. it's much more rewarding.

so sometimes i feel the same way about photography. yes, i am old enough to "remember" film... it's what i first learned on. 35mm, of course, but two years ago i began shooting medium format on a holga that i got for christmas (which was a surprise — surprise!).

it's an on again, off again kind of thing. because yes, digital really is a lot more economical. but if i'm going on a big trip or just want to cut loose and not be a journalist for a bit, i use film.

and so in thailand, i shot a fair amount with my holga. then in the fall i had the privilege of borrowing a rolleiflex, which is a beautiful old medium format camera.

anyhow, though scanning negatives is a slow and arduous process, here's one of a batch i finished scanning the other day. for more, click here.

make new friends, but keep the old

tonight i was reviewing some multimedia pieces that i worked on earlier this year — namely, the one from my final photo class, documentary photojournalism. i took it in the spring, and each student in the class had a semester-long story to work on. no other assignments, just focusing on going in-depth.

i was so looking forward to it... the time to spend on just one story, not a lot of mini-assignments and then cramming the last 2 weeks to get a good 8-10 picture package for my final story (as the other classes in the major were).

but it didn't quite work out that way. my story was on quinceaneras, the 15th birthday party that many latin cultures go all out for and throw a party bigger than most weddings i've attended. though it took me all semester to get contacts and i ended up doing the story in essentially 2 days, looking back on it, i realized how much fun it was and how much i learned in the process.

my photos were good. i'm really proud of them. i spent 17 hours straight photographing and shooting video on the day of one of the quinces. probably 11 hours for the other. and lord knows how many hours editing. it was the first project i learned video on, first project using finalcut pro, and while i think my video skills have improved tremendously since then, i miss taking photos. looking for that ONE moment that will tell that prism of that story better than all the other moments prior. observing, waiting, moving, composing as i go. video is a totally different workflow, and i think my brain has been operating in that mode ever since the summer. i've loved it, but tonight, i remembered that my first love is photography and that some stories need to be told in a series of still images, rather than a rapid succession of moving ones.

its like that old song that my mom used to sing to me:
"make new friends, but keep the old
one is silver and the other is gold"

cheesy, but applicable. video is silver — new, fun, in demand. photos are gold. they aren't going anywhere and they are what have given me the visual and mental tools for creating so many other things in life. becoming a photographer has changed the way i think, the way i see the world, the way i organize and plan, the way i speak. everything. so all of that has translated to video. gold indeed.

lifting the weight, but still getting my dose

while in thailand, a friend introduced me to vimeo.

he said it was like youtube, only better because you could upload/watch videos in HD.

yes, but it's much more. people don't upload 30 second clips of bad kareoke or lipsynching to the numa numa song. cleanly edited projects, full pieces, real stories abound there.

so i've been watching for inspiration. and also for relief.

i've discovered that there's lots of time to be utilised while rendering (a process in final cut pro where you have to wait a lot. sort of like downloading... same waiting and waiting until you can watch/listen), so i should do something productive with it (social networking doesn't count).

and so i've spent lots of time watching stories like the ones i like to do, or even short documentaries.

the problem is that many of these from sites like washingtonpost.com, the new york times, and mediastorm are so heavy! and yes, these stories need to be told, but sometimes i have to escape them for mental health.

this is where vimeo comes in.

some journalism, lots of cool stories, and plenty of creativity. it gives me ideas, ideas, ideas. yes, i want to tell good stories. i want to communicate. but sometimes i want to create just to create. just to make something thats beautiful or matches what i feel or hear or want to be. when other people do the same thing, it makes me remember that just because i'm in journalism school doesn't mean i have to think like a journalist all the time. the boundaries can be forgotten occasionally.

the point is always to tell stories. sometimes non-fiction, sometimes fiction. it so happens that a lot of what i watch on vimeo are fiction.

here's some of the ones i like so far (+ here's one from mediastorm that's not so heavy, but makes me happy to watch):


LEAF - HD from Matthew on Vimeo.


Pete in NYC from Dispatch Foundation on Vimeo.


Oleg Chubykin - "The Tourist" ("The Tourist" , 2007). Part 1 of 10 from Chubykin on Vimeo.

shot down

i get frustrated when people deny me interviews.

i have a final video due on friday, and at least 6 of my ideas have fallen through. so i scrambled to get something tonight. i have it, but its not what i wanted.

but here's a funny story.

one of my ideas was a taxidermist (i was struggling... the gamut ran from inner city boarding school to quilting circles to boxing gyms to christmas tree lots to communes [again] to taxidermy). out of all the calls i made, i figured this one would be the easiest and this guy would be the story that panned out the quickest and most smoothly.

not so. never before have i been shot down so quickly.

i called (for the 3rd time) and finally got an answer. i explained again who i was and what i wanted to do, in the friendliest, most professional voice possible.

before i even finished, he cut me off and said

"ehhhh i've been doing this for bout two or three years now, and i find that it just takes up too much of my time. plus the females can't handle the blood when they come out here, so i'm just gonna have to say no."

words cannot explain my indignation, but i recovered gracefully and hung up.

i haven't run into this too much, but one of my great frustrations in journalistic endeavors is when people tell me my story will take up too much of their time. as if their time is so precious that they can't give me a 30 minute interview at their convenience. that's just arrogant.

i'm sorry if you're really busy slaughtering a deer, but i'm pretty sure me filming it won't interfere or take ANY of your sweet time. did i mention that last week my brother shot a deer 15 feet from the kitchen window WHILE WE WERE EATING DINNER?

it makes my blooooood boooooil.

anyhow. it seems all i do here is rant. let me say some happy things.

it seems that i will be on a team of other unc students in february to go to idaho and document the special olympics there for 10 days. i'll probably get to do both stills and video. i couldn't be more thrilled! idaho is one place i never thought of going... not that i don't want to, but its just not on the way to anywhere, and i don't know a thing about it.

i can guess that idaho in february will be cold. but i also have heard that where we're going is beautiful, and if its the olympics, i imagine there will be skiing. now trying to find a way to squeeze that in. in thailand, i went to the pool while capturing tape. maybe i can ski a slope or two while capturing tape this time?

also, i've been experimenting with video a bit more and doing some little projects on family traditions and stories. one audio piece, two video, coming soon.

one video is done and you can watch it here.

they've been interesting experiments with new ways of storytelling. new to me, anyway. i've found myself thinking in terms of video more and photo less. i'm not sure i like that development, but it is what it is, and perhaps i'll return to my first love more over break when i am video camera-less, but still have my dslr.

speaking of, if anyone is looking to upgrade to the 5D mark II and wants to sell a 5D body, i'm in the market.

when your story fails dismally

i was packed and ready. my trunk was full of thousands of dollars of top-of-the-line gear (belonging to UNC, not to me). i even had some old skool film cameras, including this from a friend that i was super excited about using.

i had directions, water bottles, swedish fish and a new playlist on my ipod.

four hours of meditative road tripping to a plethora of visual imagery ahead of me...i was so ready.

six days previous, i called a commune in asheville that i had looked up months before. for a long time now, i've been fascinated by the idea that people, even individualistic americans, can tolerate one another enough to eat, sleep, farm and live together in limited quarters long term. some have made a life choice to do this.

i won't name names, but this particular commune (or intentional community, as i think they prefer to be called) aims to live like the first church in the bible. they literally sold everything they had and gave it away to live with 40 other people in three houses and live life to serve others. sounds great, right? the whole idea of it greatly appealed to the idealist in me and i had made plans long ago to visit and do a story someday. i thought to myself, "maybe i won't come back. maybe i'll find my people and stay there forever."

a bit extreme, i know, but it did cross my mind.

so last week, in anticipation of fall break and the long weekend ahead, i called said commune in asheville and asked if i could come and meet them and do a story. the woman i talked to on the phone was quite open and sounded enthusiastic about my venture. i was thrilled. i so relished the idea that i could have time to do a story outside of class assignments, and therefore i would cut loose and be extra creative. after all, no one was looking over my shoulder or telling me how to edit (note: i appreciate all input. i just wanted to experiment this time).

on my four hour drive from chapel hill to asheville, i envisioned all the shots i could get, picturing lots of pans of wide vistas and radiant fall foliage. i planned to use my borrowed rollei to take compelling portraits of the kids. i thought about the goats i knew they would have and how they would make for great audio. i imagined what the houses would look like and the window light making for great images.

and i arrived on thursday, warmly greeted, to find that they didn't want me to take any pictures or do any interviews, but would rather have me visit for the weekend and get to know me first.

i was shell shocked.

in my head i thought, "do you KNOW how far chapel hill is from here? do you KNOW how expensive gas is right now? do you KNOW how very much i was looking forward to telling your story??"

but i didn't say that. i said that i could scale back what i was planning on doing, perhaps taking fewer pictures and i could schedule interviews for another time (when do i have time to skip up to asheville for a weekend?). but the more i met other members of the commune, all of whom were very kind and welcoming, the more it became clear that i wasn't going to be taking any pictures or video.

i kept hearing, "oh its so wonderful to meet you! we're so glad you're here. sorry you aren't able to take pictures this time."

over and over, reinforced, "you can't take pictures."

so i resigned myself to (excuse the allusion) the fact that i would be visually castrated this weekend and chalked it up to a weekend of observation. it could be beneficial should i decide to pursue this story in the future, right?

maybe. but as time went on and i stayed longer, it became clear that this commune is quite evangelistic and tries extra hard to recruit new members. i was a minnow that had fallen to the sharks. they wanted me to join. stat.

what i had planned as a four day trip quickly turned to only 24 hours. my friend courtney had read a little about this commune and thought they sounded like a cult. wikipedia said they had a history of kidnapping. i wrote her off with a carefree wave of my hand and said, "oh courtney, you can't believe anything on wikipedia!"

but the longer i stayed, the more an ominous feeling settled over me. what if they did try to kidnap me? what if they took parts out of my car while i wasn't looking (like the nuns in sound of music did to the nazis) or gagged me while i slept? what if they gave me kool-aid to drink?

all these things crossed my mind as i crept away to my bunk bed, away from the noise of the main house where ALL the women and kids were in the kitchen, preparing for the sabbath (they had to make all the food and do all the cleaning ahead of time because they will not do any work on saturday). i started thinking about what could happen, how angry i was, and what my plan of action should be.

having kept my cell phone hidden and on silent thus far, i pulled it out while in bed and started texting my mom and best friend. here's how the conversation with my friend went (excuse the minor expletive. it is necessary):


me: i feel like i'm on a different planet with this commune... its weird here.

friend: i can't wait to hear about everything. can we start a commune in tibet?

me: sure, but not like this one. i really don't like it. they aren't letting me take pictures!

friend: ummm but that was the point of coming... you're a photojournalist. damn hippies.

me: i know... its a long story. i'm hoping they'll let me take SOME pictures maybe tomorrow.

friend: they are a cult. abby don't let them kidnap you please. if they do i'll come save you and if need be i'll bring in [our brothers] for reinforcements.

me: haha i'm not gonna lie i have wondered if they will try to kidnap me.

friend: i'm scareddddd but i so wish i was on this adventure with you.


after this conversation and the growing fear of kidnapping, i made my decision. i would go to the woman who had showed me around and originally told me i could, then i couldn't take pictures, and tell her that i wasn't feeling well and needed to head home (not a total lie).

i opened my door to find four of the hippies standing outside my room staring at me. my heart turned over and i excused myself to the bathroom. when i came out, they were all gone. i tried the doors leading out of the hallway, one of which had a sign saying "do not use." the other, i couldn't get open.

genuine panic set in.
i rebelled and opened the forbidden door and went to tell the woman that i was leaving.

she began crying. she claimed it was because she was pregnant and extra emotional... maybe. i'll give her the benefit of the doubt. but i wonder if it was because i was dashing her hopes for a new member.

nope. not today. not me.

so i hightailed it out of asheville, leaving the beautiful mountains with mounting sorrow and frustration, because i so wanted to be a part of them and make a beautiful story there.

i didn't take a single picture. didn't even get my cameras out of the trunk. i felt like a deflated balloon.

that was fall break for me. that was my failed story. perhaps the next time i visit them (with support... aka never again alone) they'll allow me in a little more and i can get some footage. until then, i still have the 4 day old stench of onions in my hands from where i chopped vegetables for hours as a reminder of the 24 hours i spent in a cult.

any other journalists with stories about failed stories?

* in other news, i shot a gallery of the state fair yesterday. here it is.

i am the hope for the future!
http://www.digitaljournalist.org/issue0810/andaman-rising.html