The treasure will likely be his death.
Michae and I had a lot of trouble starting his outboard engine. He just bought it off Craigslist, and was reluctant to ask for help. So I manifested an old sailer man in a Hawaiian shirt to come by and point out the obvious. So he did. He and his daughter fixed boats for a living. But before I asked him for help, he yelled to her across the docks to look for "An old guy, by the boat launch, that looks like me, but who's... Native." Then he looked at me and said "Can I say that? My daughters always giving me hell for saying things I can't. I use to be able to say whatever I wanted." Then we laughed. I told him Native was politically correct, but not Indian, then asked him for a hand. Turned out we put the fuel line on backwards, and the gas wasn't making it to the engine. Though just as guilty as Mike, I poked some fun at him. Then the old guy with one leg said. "Hey, he doesn't have a nose ring buddy!" and I said "You're not allowed to say that." and we fucking lost it laughing. He reminded me so much of my dad. Same with when Michael was swearing at the boat engine, my dad did that a lot. Of course this old man disappeared into thin air without us able to thank him.
This is probably my favourite piece I've done this year. Our first day in Alaska we went on two hikes including this one were we went skinny dipping in Rabbit Lake. As we were getting in the water we listened to these huge rocks slide down the other side of the ridge. It was pretty moving to say the least.
"The glaciers fed the shivers in her mind.
It popped her spine, and sent a clap of thunder to the sides.
That's when I heard the rocks slide."
This was shot on a 6x7 film camera. That means the negative is 4.5 times larger than that of a 35mm. Its super detailed and can be blown up MASSSIVE!
If anyones interested in buying prints use the code 10PERCENTOFF at checkout.
*Sharing is appreciated! xo.
It has been raining on and off all day, and will continue all week. Or year round for that matter. We find ourselves constantly camping in these conditions, and I’m slowly learning why. When water particles add up between camera and subject, the light diffuses into something soft and delicate. This is a contrast to the landscapes and people with whom I connect. The fog sits heavily, muting the colors into black, white, and greens like a watercolor painting from my grandparents’ house. These dreary, isolated elements of the Pacific Northwest are where I draw inspiration for my work.
Youthless Reserve. Port Renfrew.
A bad combination of fear and addiction.