This is not a Cup

impossible-cup

Ive officially have entered one of the most prolific and sustained photographic undertakings in my personal history.  Opening the third week of basically owning my own studio and lighting kit, I ve gone strictly commercial and back again. Honestly I feel like ive used this time to prove to myself that I could endlessly light and capture, ‘things’ whatever those ‘things’ maybe.  I love life and light now. I worship the light.  I honestly didn’t know how far my dedication for photography could go, never mind over  a decade of personal experience and practice from disposable 35mm to large format 4×5.  I still had no idea what it would be like to earn a living as a ‘photographer’, even after completing my third year of undergraduate study at RIT, I had no idea of what operating a studio would demand, mentally and practically.

I  decided this summer to be a champion of the still life, in order to test my patience.  By all accounts still life is considered original photographic tradition and in my opinion, one of the most difficult.  Photographing in a white room isolated from the abundance of the surrounding world is a complete contradiction to the principles that first attracted me to photography.  I loved walking with a camera, waiting for the world to unfold its story before my eyes, climbing trees.  Now, I have to collect the story and bring it to my studio, oh how things have changed, but I realize, as much as my craft changes, my interests remain the same.  I’ve never loved anything more than the power of acute observation, the penetrating gaze of my mind’s eye focused.  I never have stopped feeling like a modern day alchemist, using the powers of chemicals and magic to create new marvelous views and vitality.  Light will never lose its luster for me; the satisfaction of seeing it beaming through the trees or refracting in a spoon, its my mainline. I could only realize the truth in the statement after I have gone to my studio and photographed for fourteen days straight and im not ready to stop.

Sometimes Im an adman with hollow concepts and flashy realism and then sometimes I am a Fine Artist, looking for the essence of an object and its subtlety. Sometimes I am in between no fucking idea what to call it or who I am, but it makes me feel good, so ill call it discovery.  I’ve been discovering myself and its bizarre because its always in the least likely of places.  Outside of any serious concern for art history or originality. I just like looking and just that’s how it is.  At this point Sunday and Wednesday, I really dont know what to show you, i have beverages, utensils, optical tricks, ive painted with light and color.  Now im thinking about finding some concrete career direction so I can put together a coherent portfolio, but for the time being Im open to suggestions, sunday and wednesday what would you like to see? Im taking requests, any challenges? maybe people will comment, i know youre reading this…. maple_leaves

Botanical-studies

Spoon

spoon_bw

There and back again

Driving over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge is still like time travel for me; the clock spins back about a hundred years or so with the pervasive smell of the salty breeze. The slow pace of rural life is reflected in the local’s speech. Syllables erode and wash away, as the sandy banks of the chesapeake are lost to sea. Holy shit, so much to talk about. last week and a half of my life has come up and bit me in the ass, as life often does. I’d like to share some more words and experience, photos will come later this week. We all suffer loses emotional and physical, shit happens, then the shit goes on and you go with it. Chris you’re an inspiration, we all need long strides to keep the fire alive. I learned yesterday that my family is selling the only house I have ever called home. Sure, Im not the only one feeling the stress of an economic decline, but I will be the voice for those of us who are below middle class and sinking, for the carpenters who have no nails left top hammer. I’d say the most fucked up part of selling the house which I have lived 18 of my 20 years, is that they still haven’t even been able to tell me, I found out from my brother.  And I wonder why I have fucking problems trusting people.  My parents have gone broke, been approved for a loan, and already started repairing the house , and the still have yet to say a word to me.  As if none of these problems exist and i’ll never need to know.  Surely their intentions are good, you could say that they only want to shield me from the harsh reality of life, but in doing so Im forced to live a fantasy of assumption, I assume things haven’t changed. O but how they ve changed.  Life is a stage, and a theatre of the absurd to be exact.  My fiction is some odd mix between the prose of “the sound and fury” by Faulkner and “who killed virgina wolfe?” by Edward Albee, with a dash of Hawthorne and a twisted neo-scarlet letter, sub-plot.  We are all heros of the absurd, champions of our own creation and reality, until the ground shifts beneath our feet, we have no control and we are then running in mid air, going nowhere but down.  Why do you think looney tunes are so fucking appealing to children? that shit just makes sense.  Id like to say that I am able address this absurd notion of reality in my work, but can only try and watch myself fail.  Today its raining in maryland, and if my childhood is secretly going on sale, I too am going on a sail. Its no secret, the vessel leaves Ship’s point, this afternoon at 3 pm, and youre all invited.  Its great to be in a community that lives as much on the water as they do on the land, hell of an escape, get nautical, its the last year of the Naughties.

My favorite movie of all time is Jim Jarmusch’s “Down by Law”, Tom Waits plays a lead role, A must see! In Wait’s first scene, scratched onto the wall of his apartment in New Orleans, it says “Its not the fall that kills you, its the sudden stop.”  If you know where that is from leave a comment. Keep on keeping on.

The Naked Truth

Camera Obscura Camera Obscura

I  dont know anything about love.  More shared experience for our beloved s+w readership. As im sure you already know, Love is hands down the most powerful emotion on the planet.  It feeds our survival, Love makes babies. Almost without exception, love is responsible for everyone existence on this planet, actually it could be said that everything shared on this blog is a direct response to love.  Its absence and presence is more often than not directly linked to one’s Happiness or well being.   In high school, i thought i understood love when I would say,  “Love is a Drug, man”, its just a chemical response triggered by the reward center in your brain, a potent cocktail of dopamine that prompts two individuals to strip bare, bump uglies, left to think about why they did it the next morning.  Most of tv pop culture and music on the radio try to describe and quantify love.  All of human experience and expression has failed to explain or even adequately describe love. They say, experiencing love trumps any scientific idea’s or theories on why or how it exists. I dont know if i have honestly experienced love yet, or if i ever will, I can only I guess about love.  In my life, the only certainty in love is the eventual pain of acknowledging its absence. This may sound morbid, yet I think this way because, in my life I indeed have been a shitty lover. I’ve started and broken love triangles, I ve two timed and lied, ive been selfish. Looking back, more than once I was a complete ass.  It took me about half a decade of this committing these “love crimes”  to learn that these behaviors were just symptoms of my own fear of intimacy.  Love is the ultimate vulnerability.  I didnt like being vulnerable. I was too caught up on my own imperfections, I felt like i could never share the weight of crosses that I alone thought I should bear. Is it any wonder that when I make myself finally vulnerable, I get a taste of my own fucked up medicine.  Is it any wonder that I get used and thrown aside, like a disposable camera.  Karma  is a bitch…  I posted this photograph as an effort to confront my fears.  Ive never shown anybody a naked photo myself. Now i can just accept myself as is, and I think I already feel better.  Sun and wed, excuse me, while I try to love myself. I think you should all try and do the same.

The photo kinda reminds me of what ive seen on the Craigslits personals,  Maybe ill post it under the “man seeking women”, or better yet “casual encounters”. I can title it “Man with lens”.

One final shared experience. God knows how much I love this picture and if the big man himself told me this was mean spirited, id have to say, “He walked right into my frame”.   Enjoy this latest installment from life remembered on the Eastern Shore. Leave some feedback.crumpton

one more thing, videos i cant stop watching:      http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ltvjOj9m-c http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhxK2IOywVE

Midnight in the Garden

midnightinthegarden