Law of Boots: Evidence

I’ve been searching for the right words for this story for a few weeks now.

What do you say when your best friend could have (should have?) died in a motorcycle wreck while on his way to visit you? Should I have let it slide when he asked if he would be missed if he didn’t make it that day or did my guilt laden response spur the chain of events? Should I write something pithy about the sanctity of life or wearing a helmet? Do I recount the experience blow by blow or try to capture the spirit at large?

I have more questions than answers but as I looked through the photos from that weekend, the words never came but the emotion did. What is this but a love story…

I love you Boots and I’ll see you on the porch soon…

The Locks of Recoleta

Recoleta Cemetery- resting place for some of Argentina's most notable figures. Nobel Prize winners, former Presidents, members of high society, Eva Peron. Had I known any of this, I might have wandered with a different eye. 

Instead, I walked into Recoleta knowing nothing and my eyes wide open.

As I ambled through the tightly packed streets and corridors (the cemetary is laid out much like the Buenos Aires city streets), a repeating unit caught my eye. I wasn't wondering about the names of the people, who they were, what they did or when they passed. 

It was the locks. I could not stop looking at the locks.

Each grave has a lock. Each lock is different. From pristine and well kept to hasty and improvised to dusty and forgotten, the Locks of Recoleta asked me questions and told me stories.

I hope looking through this photo gallery will do the same for you.

Ponderosa Morning

This buffalo has been burning white hot lately and the upcoming stories will show you why. I went on a work run from late January until middle April starting in California, jumping the Pond to England, venturing to "El Fin de Mundo" in Argentina and capping it off (oooo, a little dome joke in there for ya) on the Mid-Atlantic in Maryland. What a trip. I saw, I drew, I dreamed and I documented plenty.

But how to start the story? While mulling this question over, I realized that I have been thinking about this website too linearly. Keeping a true timeline of events is a little too practical for what I'm after. So, the story starts in media res with my return back to Flagstaff and some much needed time off. Maybe even enough time to actually catch all the way up...

I returned to Flag swirling in creative energy and found that Ally and The Homie Jack were doing the same. Interesting stuff is in the works and it was pretty cool to be gone for so long while feeling like I never left. In fact, our creative energies conspired through the distance. Quantum energy...

I shot this short set while we enjoyed a lazy morning among the Ponderosa. It's a set that reminds me of exactly what it's all about...connection. There is an ease with which we all hang out and the more we do it, the more appreciative I become.

Enjoy!

Meet Me Under the Joshua Tree

Well, well. Here we are. It's been some time and while I have not kept up with my self imposed goal of one post a week, the internet at the End of The World would not allow for such vigorous picture uploading. As I slowly make my way northward, connection to the wider world has improved (for better of worse) and thus, it's story time.

Only, there's not too much of a story with this one. In mid-December, Ally, The Homie Jack and I made a quick little trip to Joshua Tree for a solid day of R&R. This trip did mark my first as the official title holder of The Mothership so it was nice to take her out, let her see the world (although she's an old hat in the travel game) and have some friends over. We drank loads of coffee, made warm soups and ventured through the psychedelic world of Joshua Tree's landscape. 

All in all a wonderful trip and if you had told me a year ago that I would travel to Joshua Tree and not put on rock shoes in any capacity, I'd have called you crazy. Well, you're not crazy and now it seems that I am more at home in the land of f-stops, film speeds and nailing that perfect bokeh. Times change and what else is there to do but enjoy the ride. (Best done with a coffee in hand while hanging from an air chair.)

Trying out the slideshow format for this post. I can't decide which one I like better...

If you like one over the other, let me know!

Passion: Ally Viente

Pizzicleta

This is the first installment in a series that I am calling Passion. In it, I will follow and document people I know and the interests, hobbies and/or careers that make them tick. This word gets thrown around too often in trite phrases on motivational posters or inspirational memes. No one has ever found it in passivity. Passion is direct action. It is dynamic and there is a certain flow that I can't really explain in words, but I know it when I see it.

My friend Ally is the perfect example of passion. 

Over 2 days in December, we hung out in her current baking laboratory, the wood fired kitchen of Pizzicleta* in Flagstaff, Arizona and I observed as she made the special bake of the week, cinnamon raisin bread. 

Baking is a subtle, thoughtful art and watching Ally flit with ease about the kitchen made the bread all the more tasty. She even made orange ginger scones (not pictured) on her downtime because "I woke up wanting to make some." They were delicious. Ally bakes with love and delight and you would be remiss to not grab a loaf from her next time you're in Flag. Grand Canyon trip anyone? 

You can follow Ally on Instagram: @ally.viente

*Pizzi will show up often in this space because the people are awesome, the food is wonderful and the whole staff exudes, well, passion.

Note: In photo 5 (Preparation) those are not Ally's hairy, muscly forearms. The homie Jack (future Passion subject!) stopped by to help out.

Personal note: if anyone is interested in having me document your passion, drop me a line/a note/write a letter/call me/tell a birdie...