Well kids, after almost two years of working at the saltmines here on High Street, Andy and I are closing up our little freelance island and establishing home offices. This comes as no surprise, as we’ve planned such an adjustment for several months, however it’s ever more real now that we’re packing up our computers, desks, oh…and coffee ecutremont. That’s right, from here on I’ll probably be making my own morning coffee. It’s my hope that I’ll still get my beans roasted by Jan and Andy’s air popper. Luckily they’ll only be a block away from my new house, and if they think I’m not going to take advantage of that detail, they would be greatly mistaken.

So, I’m here, boxing up my files and papers, and various piles of clutter that I’ve so lovingly collected. My work is almost done, and I’ve only the desk and some furniture to move from here to storage for a few weeks as I get my house ready to move as well. It’s been a good two year run here at the office…but my feelings of nostalgia are eswaged by excitement about moving into my new house. Come visit…it’s great.

The photography business has been doing quite well, as January and I are working to book more portrait sittings and weddings to photograph. Grad school is starting in a few days and I’m more than ready to start classes once again. Anyway, this was just a short post, but I thought I’d throw up what’s going on. Thanks to everyone for reading!!

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PHil

I was recently instructed by a blog reader more faithful than I’d realized that I should post something…something about something…anything. I try to keep things agreeable with most people I run into, so after several weeks of dawdling about, I’ve come to delight everyone with a missive bit of journaled happenstance.

- Case Dismissed!! -
I do a good deal of work each week within the Ohio Legal System. Courts, Arraignments, Warrants, Orders…that kind of nonsense, but it is fairly beneficial for everyone involved, unless of course you are the accused. I’ve always had a vague, and somewhat naive sense of justice about the courts, and today that lax sensibility that ignores the injustices of our system was justified by personal experience.

You’ve heard rumors about traffic tickets and officers not appearing for court dates yes? Well I have it on first hand information that such chaos is true. But of course it’s true, I mean if your accuser doesn’t show up for court, you can’t be held to their version of the facts right? This would be the case, but how often does this happen? Surely it’s more of a remote possibility, than a familiar occurrence within our justice system. Of course the cop’s going to show for the hearing right? Well, today that would be wrong.

A few years ago I completely totaled my little red grand am, and since then I’ve attempted not to drive like an idiot. This took some doing and my friends have chided me for driving slower than they think is necessary, however for nearly three years I’d escaped citation for my driving strategy. June however was a bump in my road, so to speak.

While pulling out the back entrance of the local Convenience shop, I looked a cop right in the eye, and pulled across the one way alley an onto the Avenue. Evidently, this was more than the officers could stand and I was soon pulled over for going the wrong way on a one way street. This sucked. Well, papers in hand I appeared for a court date two weeks later, where I plead “not guilty” and wondered what the prosecutor might offer in exchange for my guilty plea. Honestly, I probably would have accepted a stick of gum if it was labeled impressively. A trial date was set for another two weeks off and I went this morning to face my accuser.

I arrived early enough to see the morning prisoners plead out to a number of cases, and then I saw the defendants with lawyers get their time before the judge. Why didn’t I have a lawyer despite the fact that I work closely with a great criminal defense attorney? (He really is good, if you need him just give me a call, we’ll work something out) Well, I was interested in defending myself for a bit, you know to better understand what our clients go through…oh…and George was busy. ok…this is getting long, so suffice it to say that when the Bailiff called my name he scribbled on my paper and suddenly the case was dismissed! I didn’t even have to show my photo evidence (I am a photographer you know) to convince them of my case! The officer hadn’t appeared for court that day and I was released!!!

See, if you’re patient and nice, the universe arranges itself for you and you’re able to get whatever you want! At least, today it seems that way in Columbus Ohio Courtroom 13A, no matter what those kids in Darfur are talking about.

Hurrah! From now on I’m going the wrong way on all the streets I want!

ttyl yo,
Phil

Here at the Boltz Group, we’re trying to make improvements constantly, and one of the improvements this year was with Tax preparation. No, I’ve not become a numerical wizard and I’m pretty sure I haven’t violated any tax laws. I’m simply astounded that this year, despite great attempts to fail in business and enterprise, I’ve ended the year in compliance and paying my taxes 1) on time 2) in full and 3) without much smurfing of the numbers. That is to say that I consider my cell phone a legit business expense, and I’ve resisted the opportunity to write off depreciation on a 30 year old motorcycle.

Lately I’ve considered the taxes pulled from us through normal daily life. I’m not talking about the 6% they take out at the store, or those cell phone taxes that I don’t think anyone gets real understanding about. I’m talking about the chunk of self that the world’s system cuts out of us in exchange for doing life in a world that’s falling apart. You know, the bits that make birthdays sort of sour, that makes summertime without going abroad physically painful. Our Journals serve as income records and the memories (even the good ones) end up being bittersweet reminders of everything that we miss about “the good old days”.

It’s not that I don’t understand that things are hard or that you have to have the good with the strange…it’s that I’m greedy. You see, I not only want all the taxes back, I want to have all those things together…all at once. I’m like the guy who tallies all the money he’s made in a lifetime and says “where’d it all go?” not realizing that he’s spent it one day at a time. So, as with tax season troubles I hope that I’m getting better with saving time. Maybe this year I’ll remember to save the day to day good moments, so that down the road, I don’t have to count them as lost and the taxman won’t get any more than I’ve got to allow him.

Yeah…that’d be cool.
Phil

We have a rotation here at the saltmines. Essentially it involves purchasing coffee and making said coffee. Usually we satiate our dark desire with the blood of the beans imported and roasted for us and our bourgeoisie social class. Usually we go through about a pound of brew in a week, if we’re all in the office and working together to accomplish such a task. It doesn’t take much, mostly the time management skills to get up from our desks and find the energy to boil water. It’s a wonderful habit and I think the french press has been sitting for just long enough…perfect…now that I’ve brought you into my actuall real time morning experience, I’m free to enjoy my coffee.

This morning was Andy’s turn to “make” the coffee…he did so grudgingly only after I simply refused to submit to my cravings and make it before his caffine urge took him over completely. So now I’m enjoying my hot drink, and it does smell wonderful. There’s nothing quite like the coffee steam rising in the cool, cloudy light of an overcast day…it’s very comforting. And to think, all I had to do to enjoy this pleasure was manipulate my half of team Soell to make the juice.

Still I’m convicted. You see, it’s often waiting for the situation to become so desperate that we either get people to act for us, or realize our state and act begrudingly for ourselves. Either choice is frustrating and super lame-o. The worst is waiting for God to get desperate enough for our action that he does it for us. (It’s here that I start sounding like a loon!) Waiting for him to act because we simply wont is what takes us apart day by day…it’s not fulfilling and the reward that comes is never as good as what he offers to us if we’ll willingly accept it from him. I don’t want to fight with him like this anymore, unfortunately…the will to act isn’t something that you do once, it quickly becomes the expectation so it’s not exactly good times…

phil

So, I heard that TM just laid off 30 staff members and needs to raise $500,000 to pay the bills, now this may be totally farcical and nonsense, but when I heard it I felt a little spark in my heart. Now this wasn’t a spark of concern or support, of inspiration or hope, but I felt a little adrenaline kick. Let’s all pay attention for a few days and see what’s happening down in the great state of Texas.

When I was in the 7th grade I sat down and calculated the amount of time I’d need to wait if I was going to seriously insult my math teacher. The end of the year wasn’t enough, I’d suffer for it in 8th grade. I couldn’t just wait until I was finished with middle school, because what if he decided to be extra creepy to my younger sisters who would surely end up in his class. I’d have to wait until we’d all moved beyond his reach and influence. Once there I’d be fully empowered to return and deliver a shattering indictment of his teaching and personality. I don’t think this type of bitterness is normal for 7th graders, but perhaps I’m underestimating the darkness of the pre-teen soul. I’ve heard they can be extra crafty…what with tallying blacklists for verbal vengance visited on teachers most likely oblivious to their impact on their students…that’s pretty dark.

That’s the secret belief of bitterness, that once you’re beyond the situation, outside of it’s reach, you be able to return to collect some debt. The promise of this satisfaction is enough to endure the weight of carrying this burden for years to come…here’s the problem with that - as long as it’s carried, you never reach that point. It’s the torch carried that perpetuates the impact of wrongs long past. And that really sucks. No really, it’s the bitch. I hate that.

In two weeks I’m set up hang my stuff at a local shop in the Short North. The Gypsy Cafe delivers an eclectic blend of domestic and international patrons, and hopefully the photos I bring will fit the metropolitan feeling well. I’ll be selecting 12-15 prints from several different series on my photography site. This is unusual for me, as I like to deliver a cohesive set of images, tied together by theme or location. The closest theme I can come up with for this venture is “Hey look at what I did, tarn’t they pretty!” Let me know what you think of that title.

I’ve also considered a subtitle, which is “Please, please buy this stuff.” Which would effectively convey my desire to make my stuff marketable…because you know, it’s all about the marketing.

It’s springtime, and between the sunshine and the rain, I’ve seen several new motorcycles that would fit into my life perfectly. I heard that if you get a motorcycle you don’t have to pay taxes…ok that’s not really true…nor is it true that if you wish hard enough you can make them out of good feelings. If I purchased a bike as a prop for photography, I might be able to use it as a business expense. Yes…perhaps that would work!

Anyway, someday I’ll tell you about the party we just had, which was so incredibly planned and executed that we still have 150 plus cans of Pabst in our basement…I’m trying to figure out if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I guess I’ll be giving PBR as wedding gifts for a while to come.

Phil

And darkness, more specifically. For the past however long I can recall I’ve been trying to outfit a small darkroom. There was a point at which I had one almost entirely ready for photo-madness, but then I couldn’t bring myself to get the chemicals and I eventually moved. Since moving into my current locale I’ve been pondering where and in which room to put everything together. So, it makes me proud to say that in the last month, I’ve pulled all of my resources together and am almost ready to start printing.

The basement bathroom had fallen out of use some time ago, and so with some creative engineering I built a table that wrapped around the shower and over the toilet. The table gave way to light sealing the room with old matboard scraps and gaff tape. This past week, I’ve been working on the door, which was a challenge in itself. I took it down, reversed it, and covered the edges with rubber mats to block the light. I only have a few hours of work left, and my darkroom will be not only functional, but fully operational.

My final steps include some pipework to move water around where I need it, closing up a few light leaks, and mixing up some more chemicals. But, last night in a blur of excitement I put together my first batches of d-76 film developer and my paper developer mix…things are really rolling now! As I got everything mixed, my anticipation rose as I inhaled whiffs of that metallic bleach scent that most photochemicals emit. I know you probably wouldn’t agree on the sweetness I’m describing, but trust me, it was like a flower shop.

I’ll be sure to post some pictures (digital of course) as soon as things are up and running.
Until then,

Phil

Say, Monkey.

Say Monkey!

Did you call me a MONKEY!?

This is how I get kids to laugh. For one split second they look up and smile, somehow confused by the contradiction in my surprise that they’re intent on calling me names. I’ve worked with all types of children: happy cute kids, angry growling kids, kids that are so tuned out of our little shared reality that they just blankly stare into the flashing colors around them. It’s odd, because we’re trying to get the kids to have fun, that is until they perk up with a genuine smile. The right smile and glance means that playtime is over.

I’m convinced that there’s something similar in the way the cynics view reality. It’s like as soon as we’re really at rest in the world, as soon as there’s contentment, everything adjusts to challenge us. Inevitably, when we allow ourselves to start enjoying the place offered to us, it’ll be time to go. Luckily, God isn’t a cosmic photographer. I mean, surely he’s collecting slices of the really sweet moments, but he’s not passing us off to get to another kid. When we’re moving along with what he’s doing, it’s similar to Rob Bell’s “jumping on the trampoline” metaphor. The good times come, and it’s good to know that we’re not going to loose any space on the playground.

Don’t you call me a Monkey!

Say Monkey!

Phil

Well, here we are. It’s the beginning of March and after months of empty promises and disappointments, I’ve arrived! Yes, arrived in the full force of a wordpress powered blog. Not only have I learned about FTP and php/database management, I’ve come with vast knowledge to share with the world. Hopefully I won’t reveal myself as a jackass too quickly!

These things said, I welcome you, and hope that all is with you and yours. If you’d like why not send me some email, that is if you’re caught by the right mood. If you’re really interested in what I’ve been doing, check out my pictures. Anyway, have a good one and hopefully I’ll see you round here before too long!

Phil