Hey Blog, I have to tell the story of a time long before you were born, before there were any blogs at all. The year was 1981, the place was Deer Creek Township, Iowa. Sound like the boonies? Well, this photo shows you where that is, Blog, and it was the Boonies with a capital B.
Just how boony was it? Well, here’s the view I saw of the road there, when I went to get the mail.
But I want to tell you about a time when it was almost impossible to get the mail, because it had snowed. And snowed, and snowed. The winter of 1981, my first winter as a pastor’s wife, was a time of blizzards. Blizzards that made our tiny parsonage howl from the wind, wind that knocked out our power for hours on end, cold hours that made us close off the bedrooms (on the north side) and drove the temp in those rooms below freezing. Blizzards that buried our house in drifts six feet high, which had to be tunneled through before I could get the mail.
There was a period when I didn’t see a living soul outside my family of three for ten days. But that was not the worst of it: the worst of it was, there was no Internet. My companions for that blizzard were the four channels on our TV. Yes, no cable, no VCR, Blog, but believe me, the worst of it was, there was no Internet. A person living in Deer Creek Township could have used the Internet every day of the year, but especially during the cold and lonely isolation of a blizzard.
Fast forward to the great blizzard of 2011, aka the Groundhog Day Snopacalypse. I will rush to say that it helped that the power stayed on, it helped to have cable TV and DVR and streaming Netflix. But more than anything, it helped to have the Internet. Sure, 60 mph winds howled around our house as if to take the roof off. Sure, we had snow piles reminiscent of the Alps. But the mood remained cheerful throughout…and why?
Because all during the storm and its clean up, I shared the experience with others. I watched videos and real time blogging on local news sites. I emailed with loved ones in various places. And most of all, I hung out on Facebook, where people I knew all over the country commiserated and reported and joked, and people I knew all over the world sympathized.
We kept abreast of each other’s locations. Even those without power updated via their smart phones. And everyone--including me, of course--posted photos and videos of their little slice of Winter Wondergeddon. Digging out a buried car wasn’t such a hardship when you could share it with friends and get their sympathy. Living in a world suddenly dominated by snow was kinda cool, since you could photograph it and impress friends living in Florida and California. For all of us, to one degree or other it was a pain, but we turned it into a party too.
My dad lives 15 miles away. We both knew we were fine and we didn’t feel cut off, because we could email and share links and photos and other cheery bits. Transfer the 2011 Blizzardathon to 1981 Iowa and we would hopefully have had the phone, intermittently.
So I say to the young folk out there, who can barely remember a world without texting and Skype and Twitter, be thankful for the Internet, especially in times of crisis. Sometimes it saves lives. Sometimes it spreads truth when cruel regimes want that truth stifled. And sometimes it simply makes hard times much, much happier.
Happy like our cat Cody was after Davie shoveled, and he could see out the patio doors again.
Showing posts with label the good kind of ruin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the good kind of ruin. Show all posts
February 3, 2011
May 8, 2010
Why "Lost" may be the best TV show ever
Sadly, Blog, in a mere couple of weeks we must say farewell to the Island and its beloved residents after six seasons of gripping stories. And with only four hours and some minutes left, I am inspired to join hundreds/thousands of other people who are reflecting upon the experience of watching this unique TV series.
My comments are made from the point of view of what I am: a storyteller. As such I tend to look for, above all, good plots and character development. And in those categories I am hard pressed to come up with a show that exceeds the levels achieved by Lost. I could name you twenty shows I’ve possibly enjoyed as much, entertainment-wise, over the years. But Lost stands above the rest simply because no other show has tried to do what this one did.
What do I mean? Well, let’s start with the fact that with the series finale only two episodes away, not only do I not have the slightest clue how the show will end, I don’t even know what sort of ending it will be. Typically the end of a story comes down to a couple possibilities. Will the protagonist survive/win true love/achieve his goal/save the day? Normally the question is yes or no, with some suspense as to just how the yes or no will come about.
But Lost is not like any story told on television before. While the survival of the characters is indeed a key question, just as much at issue is the very meaning of everything that has happened to them. The story to date has posed immense philosophical questions about good and evil, fate and free will, life and death. These are not simple issues and, in my opinion, the questions cannot be answered in a clean, factual, standard fashion. The answers are metaphysical ones, undoubtedly best addressed symbolically or mythically, in the manner of Greek philosophy, Carl Jung, and Joseph Campbell. And I’m quite confident that’s how they will be presented, whatever answers they turn out to be.
Since when does TV attempt to be so ambitious? Hasn’t it always been true that the “Boob Tube” goes for the lowest common denominator, especially when seeking broad appeal? If you were in program management at ABC, would you greenlight a show that explores the deepest secrets of the universe using elements like allegory, secret code, storylines that play havoc with the space/time continuum, concepts from quantum physics, and the complex details of the entire lives of a couple dozen characters?
Nevertheless, that is exactly what Lost has done, and in the process it has become wildly popular and the object of cultish devotion the likes of which we haven’t seen since “Twin Peaks.” It arrived on the scene at the perfect time, just when the idea was catching on that you could supplement TV programming with online enhancements, and just when social media took the place of the office water cooler. The “Lost viewing experience” became a multi-faceted form of entertainment that engaged the imagination like nothing before.
Well, Blog, I say all this is well and good, but to me it’s still all about storytelling. And that to me is this show’s long suit and the bottom-line reason why it will never be forgotten. From the very first episode, which I and many people expected to be “X-Files” meets “Castaway,” the excitement driven by paranormal phenomena and the challenge of survival, Lost quickly proved to be another animal entirely. Its innovative flashbacks focused on telling the individual stories of very large stable of main characters, and each character was unique and fascinating. The mysteries of the Island unfolded bit by bit, but meanwhile we spent an amazing amount of time off the Island, dabbling in the far-flung lives of this intriguing bunch.
The writers of the show did a consistently good job of avoiding clichés. The characters were archetypal (Jack, the group’s shepherd, Sawyer, the scoundrel with good heart, etc.), which is always helpful to meaningful storytelling, but they were never predictable. Best case in point is my favorite character, Ben Linus, who has managed throughout the show’s history to walk a fine line between uber-villain and antihero. How is it possible that we are rooting for a man who committed genocide? And yet he has served as a Good Guy many times and the story of his childhood was painfully poignant. To me he is easily among television’s most complex and compelling characters.
And a case could be likewise made for so many of Lost’s alumni: John Locke, Kate, Sayid, Jack, Sawyer, Hurley, Claire, Charlie, Desmond, and the list goes on. Meanwhile, few shows can boast of such an arsenal of secondary (and even tertiary) characters who truly won our hearts: people like Juliet, Penny, Richard, Daniel, Libby, Miles, Jacob, Dogen, Lapidus, and of course Rose and Bernard. The importance of even the most short-lived character to the viewers is demonstrated by the delight we've experienced as each of them reappeared in the “Sideways” timeline.
And speaking of timelines, how improbable is it that a TV show could succeed with concurrent and sometimes intersecting timelines in present day, the 70s, and an alternate present day? Viewers were certainly confused at times, but not so much that we didn’t enjoy the complexity. Because yet another brilliant talent of the writers was to make this story interesting whether you picked it up halfway through, didn’t follow half the symbolisms and internal references, or put in the effort to figure out every little detail.
I’ve been picking up on the puzzlement of non-Lost viewers as to why we fans are agonizing so much over its imminent conclusion. I hear “My favorite shows have ended before, what’s the big deal with Lost fans?” I’ll attempt to address that question, Blog.
Part of the big deal is that we have been very intimately involved with the Losties, Tailies, Others, Dharma-ites, etc., and the nature of the show has made them more vivid than typical TV characters. It was hard saying goodbye to each Star Trek crew over the years, but it’s not as if we got to see glimpses of their childhoods, struggling marriages, family turmoil, and the very darkest hearts of their conflicted souls. When “Friends” packed it in we waved goodbye to some likeable people whose adventures we’d shared. But on Lost, we’ve spent these six years coming to terms with the cast’s deepest struggles and sharing in their efforts to make sense of life itself.
We’ve also been part of a complex, detailed world chock-full of mysteries and magic, meaning and revelation. Along the way we haven’t been mere observers: we’ve also asked ourselves, very seriously, the same questions the Losties have asked. Why are we here? What does it all mean? Do my choices matter? Is it worth it to side with Good? And what’s going to happen in the end?
Which leads me, Blog, to why the end of this show is such a big deal. Sure, facing TV series finales, we always ask “What’s going to happen in the end?” The thing is, this time we’re really hoping that “the end” will tell us something truly meaningful about “the real end.” Before you accuse me of making television into religion, let me complete my point. Throughout the show, the writers have drawn upon the thoughts of many wise human philosophers, clerics, and scientists. Through the story they’ve explored the key questions that have plagued our species for millennia. Whatever the ultimate answers are on Lost, they will simply be a fresh look, a new interpretation of very ancient ideas, genuine glimpses of the Truth that, in all likelihood, the human mind cannot grasp in its entirety.
All this on a weekly television drama series. Forgive me if I must compare this kind of epic storytelling to the classic works of Homer and Shakespeare. And the fact that television dared to aspire to this level is something we ought to recognize and celebrate. Lost has not been without flaw--it really ran off the rails the first half of the third season, but the writers heeded criticism and turned the remaining three and a half years into a beautifully scripted, captivating saga. Not every episode has been stellar, not every character perfectly-conceived and executed. But the aspirations of the show were so high and so often attained, it’s absolutely remarkable.
Blog, I’m taking an entire box of Kleenex with me for the finale. I’ll be weeping to say goodbye to some very dear friends, none of whom may survive the conclusion. I’ll be weeping at the loss of some of the finest entertainment I’ve enjoyed in my life. And I’ll be weeping at the possibility that it will be a very long time before this caliber of storytelling is seen on television again.
Kudos and thanks to creators Damon Lindelof, J. J. Abrams and Jeffrey Lieber, additional executive producers Bryan Burk, Jack Bender, Edward Kitsis, Adam Horowitz, Jean Higgins, Elizabeth Sarnoff and Carlton Cuse, ABC Studios, Bad Robot Productions and Grass Skirt Productions, and the incredible cast and crew of Lost. I’m quite confident your creation with never be forgotten.
My comments are made from the point of view of what I am: a storyteller. As such I tend to look for, above all, good plots and character development. And in those categories I am hard pressed to come up with a show that exceeds the levels achieved by Lost. I could name you twenty shows I’ve possibly enjoyed as much, entertainment-wise, over the years. But Lost stands above the rest simply because no other show has tried to do what this one did.
What do I mean? Well, let’s start with the fact that with the series finale only two episodes away, not only do I not have the slightest clue how the show will end, I don’t even know what sort of ending it will be. Typically the end of a story comes down to a couple possibilities. Will the protagonist survive/win true love/achieve his goal/save the day? Normally the question is yes or no, with some suspense as to just how the yes or no will come about.
But Lost is not like any story told on television before. While the survival of the characters is indeed a key question, just as much at issue is the very meaning of everything that has happened to them. The story to date has posed immense philosophical questions about good and evil, fate and free will, life and death. These are not simple issues and, in my opinion, the questions cannot be answered in a clean, factual, standard fashion. The answers are metaphysical ones, undoubtedly best addressed symbolically or mythically, in the manner of Greek philosophy, Carl Jung, and Joseph Campbell. And I’m quite confident that’s how they will be presented, whatever answers they turn out to be.
Since when does TV attempt to be so ambitious? Hasn’t it always been true that the “Boob Tube” goes for the lowest common denominator, especially when seeking broad appeal? If you were in program management at ABC, would you greenlight a show that explores the deepest secrets of the universe using elements like allegory, secret code, storylines that play havoc with the space/time continuum, concepts from quantum physics, and the complex details of the entire lives of a couple dozen characters?
Nevertheless, that is exactly what Lost has done, and in the process it has become wildly popular and the object of cultish devotion the likes of which we haven’t seen since “Twin Peaks.” It arrived on the scene at the perfect time, just when the idea was catching on that you could supplement TV programming with online enhancements, and just when social media took the place of the office water cooler. The “Lost viewing experience” became a multi-faceted form of entertainment that engaged the imagination like nothing before.
Well, Blog, I say all this is well and good, but to me it’s still all about storytelling. And that to me is this show’s long suit and the bottom-line reason why it will never be forgotten. From the very first episode, which I and many people expected to be “X-Files” meets “Castaway,” the excitement driven by paranormal phenomena and the challenge of survival, Lost quickly proved to be another animal entirely. Its innovative flashbacks focused on telling the individual stories of very large stable of main characters, and each character was unique and fascinating. The mysteries of the Island unfolded bit by bit, but meanwhile we spent an amazing amount of time off the Island, dabbling in the far-flung lives of this intriguing bunch.
The writers of the show did a consistently good job of avoiding clichés. The characters were archetypal (Jack, the group’s shepherd, Sawyer, the scoundrel with good heart, etc.), which is always helpful to meaningful storytelling, but they were never predictable. Best case in point is my favorite character, Ben Linus, who has managed throughout the show’s history to walk a fine line between uber-villain and antihero. How is it possible that we are rooting for a man who committed genocide? And yet he has served as a Good Guy many times and the story of his childhood was painfully poignant. To me he is easily among television’s most complex and compelling characters.
And a case could be likewise made for so many of Lost’s alumni: John Locke, Kate, Sayid, Jack, Sawyer, Hurley, Claire, Charlie, Desmond, and the list goes on. Meanwhile, few shows can boast of such an arsenal of secondary (and even tertiary) characters who truly won our hearts: people like Juliet, Penny, Richard, Daniel, Libby, Miles, Jacob, Dogen, Lapidus, and of course Rose and Bernard. The importance of even the most short-lived character to the viewers is demonstrated by the delight we've experienced as each of them reappeared in the “Sideways” timeline.
And speaking of timelines, how improbable is it that a TV show could succeed with concurrent and sometimes intersecting timelines in present day, the 70s, and an alternate present day? Viewers were certainly confused at times, but not so much that we didn’t enjoy the complexity. Because yet another brilliant talent of the writers was to make this story interesting whether you picked it up halfway through, didn’t follow half the symbolisms and internal references, or put in the effort to figure out every little detail.
I’ve been picking up on the puzzlement of non-Lost viewers as to why we fans are agonizing so much over its imminent conclusion. I hear “My favorite shows have ended before, what’s the big deal with Lost fans?” I’ll attempt to address that question, Blog.
Part of the big deal is that we have been very intimately involved with the Losties, Tailies, Others, Dharma-ites, etc., and the nature of the show has made them more vivid than typical TV characters. It was hard saying goodbye to each Star Trek crew over the years, but it’s not as if we got to see glimpses of their childhoods, struggling marriages, family turmoil, and the very darkest hearts of their conflicted souls. When “Friends” packed it in we waved goodbye to some likeable people whose adventures we’d shared. But on Lost, we’ve spent these six years coming to terms with the cast’s deepest struggles and sharing in their efforts to make sense of life itself.
We’ve also been part of a complex, detailed world chock-full of mysteries and magic, meaning and revelation. Along the way we haven’t been mere observers: we’ve also asked ourselves, very seriously, the same questions the Losties have asked. Why are we here? What does it all mean? Do my choices matter? Is it worth it to side with Good? And what’s going to happen in the end?
Which leads me, Blog, to why the end of this show is such a big deal. Sure, facing TV series finales, we always ask “What’s going to happen in the end?” The thing is, this time we’re really hoping that “the end” will tell us something truly meaningful about “the real end.” Before you accuse me of making television into religion, let me complete my point. Throughout the show, the writers have drawn upon the thoughts of many wise human philosophers, clerics, and scientists. Through the story they’ve explored the key questions that have plagued our species for millennia. Whatever the ultimate answers are on Lost, they will simply be a fresh look, a new interpretation of very ancient ideas, genuine glimpses of the Truth that, in all likelihood, the human mind cannot grasp in its entirety.
All this on a weekly television drama series. Forgive me if I must compare this kind of epic storytelling to the classic works of Homer and Shakespeare. And the fact that television dared to aspire to this level is something we ought to recognize and celebrate. Lost has not been without flaw--it really ran off the rails the first half of the third season, but the writers heeded criticism and turned the remaining three and a half years into a beautifully scripted, captivating saga. Not every episode has been stellar, not every character perfectly-conceived and executed. But the aspirations of the show were so high and so often attained, it’s absolutely remarkable.
Blog, I’m taking an entire box of Kleenex with me for the finale. I’ll be weeping to say goodbye to some very dear friends, none of whom may survive the conclusion. I’ll be weeping at the loss of some of the finest entertainment I’ve enjoyed in my life. And I’ll be weeping at the possibility that it will be a very long time before this caliber of storytelling is seen on television again.
Kudos and thanks to creators Damon Lindelof, J. J. Abrams and Jeffrey Lieber, additional executive producers Bryan Burk, Jack Bender, Edward Kitsis, Adam Horowitz, Jean Higgins, Elizabeth Sarnoff and Carlton Cuse, ABC Studios, Bad Robot Productions and Grass Skirt Productions, and the incredible cast and crew of Lost. I’m quite confident your creation with never be forgotten.
Labels:
Ben Linus,
the good kind of ruin,
Timbits of tribute
April 18, 2010
Blog interviews the cake-like thing
I'm so embarrassed to even talk about this, I'm just going to defer to Blog tonight. He's here to report to you on the Saga of the Cake-Like Thing:
Blog: Well, a lot of really weird $#!+ went down in Magic House this evening, if you pardon my departing from my usual AP Stylebook-type language. Cake-Like Thing, what exactly are you, anyway?
CLT: I'm a labor of love, Blog, a labor of love. You see, last weekend was Davie's birthday, and Diana forgot to get him a cake. She felt bad tonight when they were driving home from dinner, so she said she'd make him a belated cake.
Blog: You do resemble a blighted cake, yes.
CLT: BELATED.
Blog: Oh. Sorry. Go on.
CLT: So Diana quick found a recipe for chocolate cake online, which she planned to doll up with some extra ingredients and what-not.
Blog: I'd say the what-not was a mistake.
CLT: Hold on, Blog, let me tell! She put together the flour, cocoa, baking powder, sugar, salt, vanilla, water, oil and eggs, and dumped it all in a pan, and put the pan in the oven.
Blog: You mean A.B. The oven's named for Alton Brown, the host of "Good Eats," and Danny Elfman doppleganger.
CLT: Right. Whatever. And then she realized it should have been 3 teaspoons of baking powder, not 3 tablespoons.
Blog: Uh-oh.
CLT: Too late though! And seeing as the real Alton Brown wasn't there to tell her what that signifies from a food chemistry point of view....I was born....
Blog: Not a cake at all but a...
CLT: Cake-like THING.
Blog: So how did you come to look like that? All...leprous?
CLT: First I swelled way up. Then parts of me cascaded down the sides of my pan. They fell on the oven floor and burned, which meant Diana had to scoop burning chunks of batter out of the oven and fling them into the sink, then rush to run the vile, stinking things down the garbage disposal. And then she put a protective cookie sheet in the bottom of the oven, which got burning goo on its bottom, and more burning goo on its top.
Blog: This is not good.
CLT: As smoke filled the kitchen, Diana soldiered on making amaretto glaze out of butter, sugar, amaretto and creme de cocoa.
Blog: Hoping that alcohol might cover a multitude of sins.
CLT: She also made frosting out of powdered sugar, more butter, milk, cocoa and more amaretto.
Blog: Booze and butter, the only hopes of the culinarily incompetent.
CLT: Yes. And meanwhile, having puffed up and gushed goo, I now collapsed into a more normal but oddly disfigured size and shape. The timer went off that I was (supposedly) done baking, and Diana put a toothpick in me to test, praying I was so she could remove me from the violently smoking oven.
Blog: What happened? Did the toothpick come out clean, indicating you were done?
CLT: My top was crispy, but my edges swirled. Like pudding.
Blog: Sweet Mary and Joseph! Your edges swirled? What did Diana do then?
CLT: She cranked the oven up and went out to watch the hockey game in the living room.
Blog: She is really hard core.
CLT: I know, most women would have fainted. In the end she decided I was as done as I was going to get, and took me out of the oven. Then she slathered me with amaretto glaze, cut me into square-like things, put frosting on two of them, and then whipped cream. Then she chipped some of the hard stuff off the sides of the pan, crumbled it, and sprinkled it on top.
Blog: And she served you? What did Davie say?
CLT: He said...wait for it...that I was delicious.
Blog: No.
Blog: Well, a lot of really weird $#!+ went down in Magic House this evening, if you pardon my departing from my usual AP Stylebook-type language. Cake-Like Thing, what exactly are you, anyway?
CLT: I'm a labor of love, Blog, a labor of love. You see, last weekend was Davie's birthday, and Diana forgot to get him a cake. She felt bad tonight when they were driving home from dinner, so she said she'd make him a belated cake.
Blog: You do resemble a blighted cake, yes.
CLT: BELATED.
Blog: Oh. Sorry. Go on.
CLT: So Diana quick found a recipe for chocolate cake online, which she planned to doll up with some extra ingredients and what-not.
Blog: I'd say the what-not was a mistake.
CLT: Hold on, Blog, let me tell! She put together the flour, cocoa, baking powder, sugar, salt, vanilla, water, oil and eggs, and dumped it all in a pan, and put the pan in the oven.
Blog: You mean A.B. The oven's named for Alton Brown, the host of "Good Eats," and Danny Elfman doppleganger.
CLT: Right. Whatever. And then she realized it should have been 3 teaspoons of baking powder, not 3 tablespoons.
Blog: Uh-oh.
CLT: Too late though! And seeing as the real Alton Brown wasn't there to tell her what that signifies from a food chemistry point of view....I was born....
Blog:
CLT: Cake-like THING.
Blog: So how did you come to look like that? All...leprous?
CLT: First I swelled way up. Then parts of me cascaded down the sides of my pan. They fell on the oven floor and burned, which meant Diana had to scoop burning chunks of batter out of the oven and fling them into the sink, then rush to run the vile, stinking things down the garbage disposal. And then she put a protective cookie sheet in the bottom of the oven, which got burning goo on its bottom, and more burning goo on its top.
Blog: This is not good.
CLT: As smoke filled the kitchen, Diana soldiered on making amaretto glaze out of butter, sugar, amaretto and creme de cocoa.
Blog: Hoping that alcohol might cover a multitude of sins.
CLT: She also made frosting out of powdered sugar, more butter, milk, cocoa and more amaretto.
Blog: Booze and butter, the only hopes of the culinarily incompetent.
CLT: Yes. And meanwhile, having puffed up and gushed goo, I now collapsed into a more normal but oddly disfigured size and shape. The timer went off that I was (supposedly) done baking, and Diana put a toothpick in me to test, praying I was so she could remove me from the violently smoking oven.
Blog: What happened? Did the toothpick come out clean, indicating you were done?
CLT: My top was crispy, but my edges swirled. Like pudding.
Blog: Sweet Mary and Joseph! Your edges swirled? What did Diana do then?
CLT: She cranked the oven up and went out to watch the hockey game in the living room.
Blog: She is really hard core.
CLT: I know, most women would have fainted. In the end she decided I was as done as I was going to get, and took me out of the oven. Then she slathered me with amaretto glaze, cut me into square-like things, put frosting on two of them, and then whipped cream. Then she chipped some of the hard stuff off the sides of the pan, crumbled it, and sprinkled it on top.
Blog: And she served you? What did Davie say?
CLT: He said...wait for it...that I was delicious.
Blog: No.
CLT: Yes! And in fact, I was delicious! Can you believe that? Here's how I would have been described on a dessert menu in a fancy restaurant:
Chocolate Amaretto Decadence
With rich chocolate flavor and textures ranging from chewy to molten, this is more than a cake. Topped off with scrumptious chocolate amaretto frosting, whipped cream and crispy fudge crumbles, it will overwhelm you with decadent deliciousness!
Blog: Well, I don't know what to say!
CLT: I do--eat me.
Blog: What?
CLT: Seriously, try a bite.
Blog: Say, you ARE delicious! That's just nuts!
CLT: Diana dodged a bullet, that's for sure.
Blog: Is she going to make you again sometime?
CLT: I don't think it's possible to replicate the combination of open oven door, smoldering goo, and pan shuffling that brought me into existence. So alas, no, Blog.
Blog: It's too bad, because you are one tasty cake-like thing, Cake-Like Thing.
CLT: Thank you.
March 13, 2010
Artist of [Undetermined Timeframe] #2: Photographer Katie Nelson
Well, Blog, it's no ordinary Artist we honor today, it's Katie! Yes, THAT Katie, the older of my two fab daughters. Katie is multi-talented (and that's not just a mom talking, it's more a craftsperson talking), but today we're focusing on her photography. Okay, Blog, I will not omit mentioning her photo on the cover of my 2009 novel Looking on Darkness. Can we carry on now? Thank you.
Today I completed the project of converting 12 of a series of Katie's "texture photos" to a wall art installation in our dining room. Check out how totally awesome it turned out, Blog:
Photo #1, from the same trip, was taken at Union Train Station in Gary, Indiana. Katie reports, "There's something for everyone from crusty textures to lurky corners to gorgeous flowers and berries growing from the rubble. My photography barely scratches the dusty surface."
Photo #6 was taken at City Methodist Church, also in Gary. Katie says, "It was like a museum really...beautiful dusty crumbly things at every corner. While I'm sad such a gorgeous place is in ruins, I very much thank Chris for showing it to me, so I too could find the beauty in this forgotten gem."
Today I completed the project of converting 12 of a series of Katie's "texture photos" to a wall art installation in our dining room. Check out how totally awesome it turned out, Blog:
I know, right? So let me tell you a little about the interesting origin of these shots.
Photos #5 and #11 were taken Labor Day weekend 2009. Katie went with her boyfriend and photography mentor Chris to Chippawa Lake Amusement Park, outside Medina, Ohio. Open from 1878 to 1978, the park has been abandoned for over 30 years. Says Katie, "Most of it has rotted away, been scavenged, burned, or demolished, but echoes of its glory still remain in the bits and pieces of split wood, crackling paint, rusty tracks, and warped metal."
Also last fall, Katie and Chris visited the Upper Peninsula of Michigan on another photography road trip. Photos #3, #7, #8 and #10 are from the Quincy Mine Hoist in Hancock. Meanwhile, photos #2, #4 and #12 are from the Centennial Mine in Calumet. Such amazing studies in rust and paint, eh Blog?
Since not everyone who read this blog can come see this gorgeous art installation in our dining room, (although of course they are invited to drop by anytime, Blog), I made this slide show to show off the detail of Katie's photos a little better. Of course in real life they are even more awesome! I just love how these shots demonstrate the random beauty that results, completely unintentionally, as nature works its ways on the unattended creations of man.
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