Tag Archives: PowerShot S50

Photographs from the heart’s eye


This is important so I’ll say it in English as well.

Recently I’ve been worrying about the critical reception to my show since I’ve invested so much time and money into it. But when I was on the way home from the installation last night I realized something: it doesn’t matter what sort of critical reception I get. The original motivation behind this exhibition was to celebrate my friends; the ones that pulled me up and helped get my feet under me here in Japan. And when I was preparing for the show that’s what I did; I fondly thought of the people in the pictures, all they’d done for me, and I made these photographs as a tribute to them. So the show’s already a success.

Thanks for helping make it one. 皆さん本当に有難うございました。






Waiting is.


Come on, my star is fading
And I swerve out of control
If I, if I’d only waited
I’d not be stuck here in this hole
Come here my star is fading
And I swerve out of control
And I swear I waited and waited
I’ve got to get out of this hole

But time is on your side
Its on your side now
Not pushing you down and all around
It’s no cause for concern

Come on, oh my star is fading
And I see no chance of release
And I know I’m dead on the surface
But I am screaming underneath

And time is on your side
Its on your side now
Not pushing you down
And all around, no
It’s no cause for concern

Stuck on the end of this ball and chain
And I’m on my way back down again
Stood on a bridge, tied to the noose
Sick to the stomach
You can say what you mean
But it won’t change a thing
I’m sick of the secrets
Stood on the edge, tied to a noose
You came along and you cut me loose


Strawberry Swing

Woken up in the morning, there was a fragrance hanging on. There was a painting hung in my heart and a melody strung around my head. I’d be asleep for so long, I’d nearly forgotten it. But the sunshine and the flowers were calling, and I ran outside barefoot to meet them.

They were sitting
They were sitting on the strawberry swing
Every moment was so precious

They were sitting
They were talking under strawberry swing
Everybody was for fighting
Wouldn’t wanna waste a thing

Cold, cold water bring me round
Now my feet won’t touch the ground
Cold, cold water what ya say?
When it’s such…
It’s such a perfect day
It’s such a perfect day

I remember
We were walking up to strawberry swing
I can’t wait until the morning
Wouldn’t wanna change a thing

People moving all the time
Inside a perfectly straight line
Don’t you wanna curve away?
When it’s such…
It’s such a perfect day
It’s such a perfect day

Now the sky could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time

Could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time

Could be blue,
Could be grey
Without you I’m just miles away

Could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time

— Coldplay

The simple life

Today marks the first time I’ve had two consecutive days off in roughly two months. Though I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I have made a full recovery, my spirits are much higher and there’s a spring in my step that hasn’t been there for a while. I awaken with no difficulty, fatigue, or dread in my heart. I am happy to rise, and when walking down the street I am driven to song. As the bird says, “I’m not singing because I am happy, I’m happy because I sing”.

Yesterday I managed finally getting the winter coats and blankets into the vacuum compressed bags, as well as my grand recabling done. Dust bunnies have been relocated to the slums of Dubai and many a zip strip keeps the myriad of wires behind my AV setup manageable.

Today I will finish migration of my phone address book and tomorrow be rid of the accursed Willcom. I also will repair the steering column damage done to my green cruiser bicycle, in addition to finishing cleaning. I have prepared meals for myself two days in a row! I know this is your standard (well duh, you’re out of college, fool) terrority for those single age twenty-nine and over, but you have to understand how complete lethargy from overwork drives away all motivation to not only prepare food, but eat it as well.

Yesterday I had a three hard-boiled eggs and a bowl of natto rice for breakfast. Today I took the preparation a step further and made miso, carrot, and boned salmon soup from the last unfurried ingredients in the refridgerator. It was quite nice actually. And my rice got a power-up as well from today’s serving of white and brown with five grain mix added for good measure. I even brewed up a pot of my classic spearmint tea.

Nothing fancy, but the ingredients and the intention are pure.

I am counting the days until I remove television from my life completely. Once I assemble a plan for a filing system for prints and negatives, I will make the switch and my dear Toshiba will be reallocated for resale/recycling. Huzzah for books and music.

Last night I also managed to visit the darkroom for the first time in about three months. I am getting better, in terms of technique. It’s more a matter of patience and thinking before moving on (duh), but still I am pleased to have far less pictures stuck together or developer burns from poor washing. It bothers my conscience how much water and chemicals are used for my hobby, however.

In any case, I would show you the prints but as you know the monitor is an inferior medium for displaying images when compared to paper, so you’ll just have to visit me and come see my albums.

Speaking of albums, I upgraded Gallery to 2.3, the only change you’ll really notice though are the slideshows are far nicer than before, thanks to Piclens. Now if only the Gallery integration worked with WordPress properly…

Now that my workstation is nearly set up, I can start the DAM workflow I’ve been planning for months. Remaining big ticket items are raising the monitors to my eye-level, and a 64-bit copy of Photoshop to go with Windows 7.

…slowly, but surely, growing.

Wavy Gravy

For the children of the world, happiness means Christmas. For the game publishers of the world, Christmas means autumn sales, and so, for the game devlopers of the world, autumn sales means kiss your summer goodbye.

This is the second year in a row that I’ve observed this phenomenon. The weeks tick by with scores of events I would normally focus on, all blossoming to evaporate without me ever being aware of their existence. I haven’t been to photo class, much less the darkroom, in over five weeks.

So in amidst the constant waves of management, tech ramp up and lock down, there are but a few points worth mentioning in my life. Here they are presented in coarse, unprocessed snapshot format, for I have less than four brain cells not running in degraded mode.

This is my teikaku. Essentially the national government’s plan to shore up the flagging economy: give every working man, woman, and child 12000 yen (about 120 dollars) to stimulate consumer spending. Kind of like a tiny tax refund with the suggestion you use it to save the sagging market by purchasing domestic beer.

This is a very classicly inspired Rusty photograph. It’s got virtually all of the elements that first enchanted me about Japan… blue sky, fish scale clouds, tall evergreens and a lattice of man-made cables around a lower quadrant of the frame.

One day last week I came outside and discovered some unseen prism was casting a near perfect gradient of visible light into the stairwell.

When I came home that same night, I met this frog in the driveway. His name is Carl.

Only fraternal love keeps game devs from choking each other to death during the march towards ZBR.

And only a panoplly of the finest ingredients an Asakusabashi sushi-chef can collect from around the country can sustain my haggard body.

Since I have no time to go outdoors I’ve been entertaining the idea of synthetic melanin stimulation.

After six and a half dutiful years of service, Eilonwy, my WinBook J4 has died (the coroner has reported a confluence of excessive dust intake and old age as the cause). This has motivated me to move up my schedule for building a PC capable of meeting my needs for high-bandwidth photographic and audio processing.

Core 2 Duo E8500 (3.16GHz/FSB1333MHz/L2cache 6MB)
4GB PC8500 DDR2 1066MHz JE
HighPoint RocketRAID 2640×4
2x OCZ Vertex 120GB SSDs w/ 64MB cache paired in RAID-0
Hitachi/IBM 1TB HDD w/ 16MB cache
NVIDIA GeForce 9600GT (DVI×2/HDTV)
BUFFALO 8x Blu-ray drive

Ungodly fast, and currently running Windows 7 RC1 with aplomb. I have named her Cheyenne, in honor of my long-since deceased laptop which carried me through undergrad.


Though I’ve been taking pictures of raves for seven years, I rarely ever post pictures from them. However, last weekend I went to Tenrinsai in Fukushima, and was set on taking a substantial number of photographs. I planned for varying weather conditions (Centuria), as well as extremely low light levels (Super Presto 1600, pushed to 3200). In the end I got through six rolls of film on the A-1 and Macha’s borrowed Holga, with a couple snapshots in between with the PowerShot. There are some very show-worthy shots, though if I can successfully integrate them into a theme is another issue.

I have some reflection to put up along with these, but for now just take a look the pictures, and get a little taste of Japanese country psytrance.

Bourbon and strawberries

At 1:25 this morning I stared into the flowing Kandagawa and I saw the past. I saw it rushing by awash in garish fluorescent light, unnoticed and trivial. But leaning on the aluminum bridge railing with a crumpled Camel hard pack in my breast pocket, nursing the wounds of my termination, I knew there was nothing to be said or done. I knew it before the night had even started; I knew it in winter last year as I undertook the most visceral and pure session of my limited photographic career.

I have been, and always will be, a lover; born in the world not just strongly attracted to beauty but, almost, hopelessly impaled on it.

And I’m sorry it had to drive us apart.

What Design Festa was

So, Design Festa has ended, much sooner than I expected, actually. Friday night I toiled updating my poems and assembling my concept summary until morning, returning from the Southern Tower Kinko’s as the sky grew light at 4:30 Saturday morning. After sleeping for two hours and being dead to my alarm, the impatient calls from my ride at seven threw me into a dash of assembly until 12:15, over an hour past the show opening. I foolishly thought that being the second time around I’d be more prepared and installation would go smoother, but again this time I had nearly twice the materials as the last, and my booth setup was more complicated than my previous outing. Thank the Lord I had friends with me to put it together. Without them, there would have been no show

Then with a sweat-frosted brow, I stood proudly in my skiing cowboy shirt, eyes alight nostrils flaring, continuing on energy that came from some sort of environmental tap. Balancing on my toes, rocking over my knees I smiled, beamed, and gestured. I explained what Tokyo meant to me, what my goals were for the future, how the buildings and the colors, the stories witnessed and imagined all drove me nearly insane with ardor that simply must be redirected onto these two dozen pieces of coloured paper.

I didn’t eat for thirty hours, just absently sipping plastic bottled sports drinks between the waves of young girls that drifted in and out of my booth. When I sensed someone was not in a hurry and genuinely looking at my wrinkled black canvas, I intruded making a slight bow and offered a headset playing a remixed version of Leonid’s Crater. The ambient river that I coaxed out of the microKORG mingled with samples of clacking heels, passing bicycles, and slowly withdrawing automobiles. Birds warbled and summer cicadas sang: so much shuffled and tinkling green tea powder over a sublime layer of mint cake. The sound was well-received and led to conversations, long moments where I forgot my humility and sped on feverishly, taking every question and using it as a springboard into a clammy reel of my philosophy. Perhaps too emphatic, after finishing a complete revolution of my spiel, conversation often dropped off sharply and my exhaustion precluded common sense, ending each meeting with a weak smile and a passing of my business card.

I sold a dozen or so postcards, gave away a handful more, and at the end of the day had so much in my mind of how I would improve upon it all next time, during packing up and the train ride home I was virtually catatonic.

Already a bushel of future concepts have risen up in my mind like sprouting weeds after a long summer rain. I don’t have time to enumerate them all right now, because this is the stream of consciousness post, and I don’t have the gallery assembled yet anyway. Give me a day or two and then you can see the collective fruits of my efforts (and maybe even hear them).