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California Wildflower

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A moody photo of a purple wildflower growing in a meadow of white flowers.

High Fashion

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An abandoned brick building, a few props, warm sun, and two beautiful women made for a fun day of photography.

Poppies

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Artful California Poppies

Santa Cruz

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An impromptu trip to the beach

London Eye

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London landmark silhouetted against an angry sky

Domestic Observers

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It’s not unusual to see people come out to watch the excitement of elections.

Picturing Yourself

Posted by Solitudeape On 9:53 PM 0 comments
An idea has been bouncing around in my head for a few years, mostly in the back. It's roots probably come from a discussion in 1999 with a friend and colleague at the time about teaching youth in San Francisco how to make films.

Then in 2007 I went out to Washington DC on an informational interview trip ostensibly to pave the way for a move there. Indeed I did "move" there in September of that same year but it didn't stick. During that trip earlier in the year, I showed up for an appointment with someone and found that her boss, the director of the center for Governance and Democratization, had stepped in to chat with me. We headed down the hill towards Dupont Circle to Starbucks. On the way he was more interested in my film background. In the future six or so months he was putting together a program called Bridge Media whereby children in post-conflict areas from both sides would be taught how to make films about their lives to be shown and discussed among themselves and shared with the other community or communities.

A few days later I had a second interview with his team, this time more specific on what I saw could be done. I returned to San Francisco and the communication cooled and then went down. Almost a year later I checked and the project was up and running.

While in Sudan I thought it would've been great if I had some smaller, less complex, and lighter cameras to teach children how to use and then curate a show both there in Abyei (how I'd print the photos I don't know) and elsewhere.

So, now I am putting together a proposal to form photography clubs in collaboration with international NGOs, dovetailing with life skills training/programming for 10-13 year old youth. I target that range because I'm most interested in early adolescence, during that time where the search for identity within a community and the larger world begins. I envision two or three-month spans of time, enough to grasp basic concepts, regular meetings when we can introduce more concepts and give thematic projects such as home, family, peer pressures, religion, etc. All the while I'll document in video and stills the process, the photographers being photographed, and collect their stories about their lives, their photos, and the motivations for those they took.

I've already piqued the interest of an NGO that serves IDPs and orphans in Uganda and a researcher in Western China. But, of course, the biggest mobilizer will be seed funds so that I can do the first round, be it amongst the Inuit of Greenland, youth in Nagorno-Karabakh, children of drug addicts in Guam, or indigenous people of Peru. Additionally, working with youth in Afghanistan and South Sudan tremendously excites me.

Visitor in our compound

Posted by Solitudeape On 7:10 PM 0 comments
Shot from inside my container looking out, a UNMIS
(UN Mission in Sudan) copter buzzing over

The compound my partner(s) and I stayed while in Abyei was the last thing you pass before leaving the town heading south. Across the street the sound of 24-hour generators from the giant UN base hummed and the frequent fly over by helicopters heading to or from Kadugli in South Kordofan helped remind us that we were near a major town.

Usually our only visitors were the occasional goat who would wander through the gaping holes in the fence. I would take the opportunity to exercise and chase it around, usually failing to get them to find the exit. The other normal visitor was the daily arrival of one or many water-boys, boys who deliver water to people or compounds. These boys, usually around the age of 14, have two 44-gallon oil barrels welded together and laying on a cart and pulled by the eternally bored donkey. They'd arrive, check the level on our main tank and then slowly, with dilapidated old 5-gallon jugs, hand transfer water from their tank to ours. This requires climbing up onto an old step stool made from branches and grass, raising the bucket over their head, and pouring it in.

One day a little girl walked up to me, sat down on my front step and stared at me. I grabbed a book, one with pictures, and showed it to her. With very little emotion, she flipped through the book and uttered not a word while I photographed her. As quickly as she came, she then quietly walked away.



Snake themed birthday party

Posted by Solitudeape On 3:52 PM 0 comments





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Kazakhstan growth

Posted by Solitudeape On 10:15 PM 0 comments
I've been back for almost a week now from a nearly two week trip to the snowy steppe of Kazakhstan. Starting in the capital city of Astana, I was deployed to Uralsk along with seventeen other short term observers volunteering for the Organization for Security & Cooperation in Europe/Office for Democratic Institutions & Human Rights (OSCE/ODIHR) election observation mission. Four hundred of us in total blanketed the country with most having to traverse this massive country via plane.

Astana is a architectural utopian city. That first day a bunch of us walked along the promenade that showcases many of the new buildings built with oil money and meant to house and serve as office space for a huge workforce. The question is, where are these people because very few were seen on this weekday. Most of the buildings are fanciful. They often are bright or unusual colors and frequently lack the cube or routine shapes of other buildings. Several times I saw high rises that I believed to be optical illusions of waves. But, upon closer inspection, the slant of exterior walls or undulating lines were not a trick of the eye but steel and glass artistry.


Uralsk on the other hand is a comfortable but typical Soviet era city, at least architecturally speaking. The photo to the left was taken on our way out of the country, not in Uralsk but a city 200km (125 miles) south of Astana. My troupe of short term observers were scheduled to be the last group to arrive back to the capital. Not only were we intended to arrive over a day later than most of the other teams, but we also were not going to be able to take part in the group debriefing nor partake in the post debrief "surprise" (which was leaked to be a traditional Kazakh musical performance) and hors d'œuvre booze-fest afterwards. But, when our plane was rerouted midflight to take us elsewhere, many of us missed out flights out of the country. Though relatively speaking close to Astana, the final leg involved a scramble to the train station and then a colorful four-hour cattle car trip on a train northward, arriving in the misty dawn hours and sent to the King Hotel to wait for further instructions.

It was a nice bookend, this juxtaposition of the sleek (although noticeably superficial as Astana is reportedly the "second coldest capital city" and as such, extremes of -50° C (-58° F) winters and +50° C (122° F) summers have already weathered man made structures upon closer inspection) and the familiar Soviet decayed simplicity.

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