Sunday, May 19, 2013
Friday, May 10, 2013
It has slowed up a bit. I don't post much anymore. In comparison to earlier, I don't shoot as much either. Yet it seems as that traced back nearly every aspect of my current surroundings is a result of my life in photography.
I logged on tonight to explore the hard drives, listen to the click and whirr. Maybe I'd find some photos that I'd forgotten and then have something to show.
Reduced to binary code we might all feel a bit inconsequential. Millions of blogs, countless sums of everything else that saturate our faces, our brains with images, movement, color and emotion. I remember reading that the only reason a road is good, is because of the homes to which goes. Instead of stripped down, deep inside; it's a backward recess, through ether cables, airwaves, coffee shop connections and screens to chairs, laps to hands. Behind the codes that rule everything consumed and viewed are breathing beings, full of confusion, happiness and regret. Eyes that process feed the brains that would explode at the depth and meaning in life if they weren't programmed to avoid it.
A quick blink in electric flashes and streaks, this 1000th since I started , will momentarily rise only to be buried in the robust and contradicting archive of that which webs; outward and inward. In the futile moment, it is only fitting to credit the 999 to the source of my understanding of photography. If the purpose of a road, is to lead to a home, then the photos usher to my brother Greg who has a share in every experience and resulting photograph. My early exposure originated at the collision of his passion and his love for our family. From crochet hooks on frozen Polaroids and my first SLR on my 16th birthday to getting me a job out of high school at lab, Greg looked out for his kid brother in the form of photography.
Just as codes, languages and formats translate a virtual world for our understanding, the medium and experience of photography explains life to myself. All that I know, love and strive for in photography is threaded backward to the home that Greg created and enjoys as a father, husband and brother. Happy 1,000th.
Posted by Mike Terry at 1:45 PM
Monday, March 25, 2013
I'm a 30 minute train ride from our apartment and I stick out like a sore thumb. Most likely due to my neck, spinning my head around from side to side. The urban expanse of former GDR cities; for those who never contextually knew them as new or modern, still smack of a powerful ideal. The curbs are longer, the aversion to structural ornamentation is obvious, advertisements are fewer and there is a starkness that I am hesitant to attempt explaining. Especially when a winter sun is thin and angular, buildings and streets like these breed a loneliness that is either in my head or has been present for enough years to claim a powerful social latency in a hall of contrasts.
Posted by Mike Terry at 3:09 PM
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
It was his first trip to Europe and our project involves photographs from his fathers journey across Europe as a young architect. The book project is going into print this summer.
Posted by Mike Terry at 9:31 AM