HOWARD FINSTER'S PARADISE GARDENS

GONE WITH THE WIND AND MY TIME

Yesterday I visited what is billed as "The Margaret Mitchell House", but what in reality is the "Margaret Mitchell Tiny Apartment". It was here where she wrote the majority of "Gone With the Wind", which we were told on the tour is only outsold by the Bible. Because I have never read the book, I thought I would kick back today and watch the highly acclaimed film version. The thing is four hours long, and for the life of me, I can't seem to find the message, less Mitchell was an existentialist. The beautiful Scarlett O'Hara in the movie has a thing for Ashley that she just can't seem to get past, though the character of Ashley is played by a very feminine Leslie Howard (ironically both his character and real names are girl names). I just don't buy the lifelong attraction, especially after Rhett enters the scene. I also didn't buy Scarlett's riches to rags to riches personality transformation. After the war, she is forced to work the land with her own hands, and instead of building empathy, the experience creates a greedy monster. Hopefully the book was better. One interesting item for sale in the gift shop is shown in the middle photo: the drunken rape scene commemorative music box. Very strange.

HIGH MUSEUM OF ART ATLANTA

I grew up most of my life in the Atlanta metro area, but had never visited the High Museum of Art. So today my mom and I went. For a town I considered fairly uncultured, I have to admit the museum was pretty good. The most impressive aspect was that the High featured a large section dedicated to naive artists from Georgia like Howard Finster and Carlton Garrett. I can't think of another museum that I've visited that was willing to take a chance and exhibit local untrained artists. The top statue is one of the witches from Macbeth, the middle piece is a installation by Carlton Garrett, and I just like the girl's fro in the bottom painting.

KYLE FARNSWORTH WAS A JERK

I found this old baseball team photo the other day. I used to love playing baseball at Wills Park, until this particular year. The coaches were lousy, and one of my teammates (who happened to go on to have a career as a relief pitcher for the Cubs, Braves, and Yankees), was a jerk. His name is Kyle Farnsworth and he is pictured in the top right row behind me. At this stage in youth baseball, throwing an 80 MPH fastball was all you needed to be the best pitcher in the league. Kyle threw it, and nobody could hit it. In fact, most people were scared of it. He didn't evolve much as a pitcher as he went on to high school and then off to the Cubs. He threw fast, but was no match mentally for MLB batters or even for news reporters for that matter.

FUNNY PICTURES OF ME

There are many things I like about the bottom photo: my silly outfit, how creepy Santa Claus looks, my expression, Santa's Secret Code, etc. It's really no wonder I would start crying when my parents handed me over to this dirty looking pedophiliac. The top photo is one of my favorites. It was taken in Molokai, Hawaii. My parents are standing in front of a famous rock there called "Phallus Rock". As a naive ten year old, I of course didn't understand the meaning of the name. All I knew was that the rock looked fun to climb on. That's my head peaking out from the tip.

CAN YOU FIND MY MOM IN THIS PHOTO?

MY GRANDPARENTS

Visiting my parent's house is like going on a giant treasure hunt. This time I'm looking through old photos. There is definitely something technology misses as we zoom from innovation to innovation. For instance, take photography. With all the "progress" in this field, I still say old printed photos are higher in quality than the ones we get today. These pictures above are of my Dad's parents. His mom passed away from cancer a month before I was born, so I never got to know her. My grandfather passed away a few years ago. He sure was a lanky fellow in his youth.

HAPPINESS IS A WARM GUN AND...

...getting back from over two years in a Muslim country and finding your favorite beer at a liquor store in Cumming, Georgia. That is the real name of the town by the way. I guess growing up near Cumming desensitized me to the double entendre there (lots of humor in that sentence). Anyways, Bell's Oberon is brewed in Kalamazoo, Michigan, so finding a mini-keg of it here in Georgia was indeed lucky. The only somewhat affordable beer in Jordan is Amstel, but it is locally brewed Amstel. For the cost of my mini-keg, I could have bought around four cans of that nasty shit back in Amman.

MOHANNA DURRA SKETCHES

The three sketches above are part of my growing art collection. I had the great privilege of getting to know Mohanna a bit through my work with the magazine, and I can attest that he is truly one of Jordan's greatest treasures. He pretty much single-handedly created an art scene in Jordan, and though it has become bastardized and commercialized in recent years, some art is better than no art. He is also easily the funniest person I met in Jordan. One of my favorite quotes: "How can you paint and wear a hijab? That's like having sex with your clothes on!" I'll save some of you a trip to google. A hijab is the traditional head covering worn by some Muslim women.

THE HOT SUN SETS ON AMMAN, JORDAN

After over two years, I have decided to end the chapter of my life that resided in Amman, Jordan. I have no regrets in my time there. I met some wonderful people, got engaged, and was exposed to a multitude of aspects of photography. Jordan was not an easy place to live, but it was full of opportunity. It is also a place extremely misunderstood by the western world. Though I won't miss the traffic or how ridiculously expensive things are there, I will miss the good people I met and how simple life was at times. I will also miss the delicious cashew nuts. Ma'as salaama Jordan!

MY BIG FAT JORDAN LIE

I was propagating lies about how I ended up in Jordan even before I left Portland. I have found in life that a well placed lie is sometimes essential for momentum. As my life was crumbling before me in Portland almost three years ago, I thought desperately about my next step. It was time to make the move into more creative endeavors, but I had no idea how to go about it. I assume a lot of people get stuck at that point. So I decided, rather quickly and without any knowledge about the likelihood of finding work, that I would sell my beautiful floating home and move to Amman, Jordan. I knew two people there, a roommate I lived with for a semester in college, and a guy who lived down the hall that I'd stayed in touch with over the years. Now the lie: I told everyone that my roommate in college started a company, and that he assured me that I could work for him and that there were plenty of opportunities in Jordan. This conversation never took place, though he does run an internet company here. This was the well placed lie. People in general don't appreciate when people close to them take big risks with their lives. As I was vulnerable at the time, I decided that if my move offered some security, that the people I told would support it. This was true, and this was the momentum I needed to convince myself to go through with my somewhat crazy plan. In the end, I was able to make a decent living in Jordan and establish myself as a photographer. I do owe a tremendous debt to my friend Bryce who allowed me to live at his house for nearly a year as I was beating down the doors of potential clients. One thing I don't fully understand is why I continue to tell this lie when people ask me how I ended up in Jordan. Perhaps for the sake of brevity, or perhaps its mental muscle memory. But what is true is that I moved to Jordan because it was as far away from my old life as I could get. And that has made all the difference.

ARTIST MOHANNA DURRA

This is a recent cover I shot for Trendesign magazine as well as some candid photos I shot today. It features artist Mohanna Durra made up like a clown (he's well known for his clown paintings). Mohanna is like the Godfather of art in Jordan. He started the first art school here, and has inspired generations of artists. The portrait and frame are not Photoshopped. I had the frame hanging from the ceiling in front of Mohanna. I fought hard to get this on the cover as I felt he deserved it. I'll post the article soon. He's a fascinating character. An interesting side note is that Mohanna has done a series of new paintings based on my photos. I'm considering suing him, especially after I found out that one was purchased by the current Emir of Qatar.

THE SHOT HEARD ROUND AMMAN

It was bound to happen. Work has slowed to a halt here in Jordan, and I've been spending the majority of my time shooting home interiors. About half the time these interiors are interesting, and half the time they belong to rich, obnoxious folks. In the case of the later, it takes every ounce of my self-control to be professional. I had a perfect track record in this difficult endeavor, until the shot above. Not long into the shoot this morning I moved a small silver fish not pictured above out of the frame to make a better composition for the close-up. At this point the woman shrieked, "the shoot is over," and asked me to leave. The most satisfying moment came as I was exiting and her domestic helper winked at me. That poor woman!

LANDMARK HOTEL AMMAN

Here's a photo I've been putting off for some time. Sunset shots are a pain in the ass because I always go way too early. I shot like this is taken about 30 minutes after the sun has faded over the horizon. Somehow I always forget this and go about an hour early and have to wait. I took this picture from a building across the street that was wide-open and had no guard. I made my way onto the roof without incident feeling like an assassin as I set up my tripod. At around 9pm when I was finished, I was mildly alarmed to find all the doors to the building locked. It took me an hour and some MacGyver like skills to find a way out. Sometimes we procrastinate for a reason.

PELLA, JORDAN

Pella is one of my favorite spots in Jordan (ranking nearly as high as underwater Jordan). Pella is located in northwestern Jordan on the border of Palestine. I decided to post the two weirdest pictures from my recent trip there. The bottom shot is from inside a local architect's weekend home. He doesn't use it much, so this little guy must have flown in some time before. I call it, "I believe I can fly", a tribute to misguided creativity everywhere. The top surreal photo is from a farm in Pella owned by a local art dealer. What a place! I can't tell you how strange it is to walk barefoot on grass in Jordan, or to do anything involving grass for that matter.