chookooloonks blog

hasselblad friday: roll #4 (or the one where I ramble on about photography & metaphysics)

Karen Walrond — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 06:00:00 +0000

While I was in Salt Lake City, I was happily able to spend a few minutes chatting with my sweet friend, Justin Hackworth (who, incidentally, took my bio photograph for the inside flap of my book). At one point I interrupted him:

"Justin, you know what?" I said. "I just need to tell you something I've been meaning to tell you for a while. I really love your work. Your images are so simple, so pure and so beautiful -- they're really just breathtaking."

He smiled his usual quiet smile. "Thank you," he said simply.

"Seriously," I insisted. "I've tried to photograph just like you, and I can't."

"Well, actually," he said, "there is a theory that says a photographer imbues something into his photograph when he shoots. That there's a reason that you can't identically copy another photographer's work. You could never shoot like me, and I could never shoot like you, even if we tried."

"In fact," he continued, becoming more animated, "I read an article once, where someone was visiting Ansel Adams, and Ansel took a shot -- and then the person used Ansel's camera and took the identical shot, and processed it identically. And even though, at a glance, the photograph looked the same, if you stared at it long enough, it immediately became clear to anyone which of the photos was taken by Ansel, and which wasn't." *

"You know, I totally believe that," I said. "I've tried it with other photographers -- taken photographs of the same subject side-by-side with them. I'm not sure what it is, but you definitely can tell the difference, even when our camera settings were exactly the same."

* * * * * * *

In the interest of continuing to share with you my learning curve in using this camera, these are the thoughts that ran through my head when I pulled the images above up on my computer, in the order in which I thought them:

1. Oh good, they came out fine.

2. Of course, it's really difficult to screw up photographs when you have subjects as lovely as these.

3. The things I wanted in focus are in focus (more or less), and vertical lines are vertical and horizontal lines are horizontal. Score.

4. I think I'm finally getting the hang of this camera!

5. I'm still a bit dissatisfied.

It might seem silly, I suppose, that I wouldn't be fully happy yet, especially since I consider the images technically fine. But the truth, I think, is related to the discussion I had with Justin: I don't quite feel that a part of myself -- the part which expresses how I felt during that moment in time when I took the shots -- is accurately expressed in these photos. This might sound like metaphysical hooey, but regardless, something still doesn't feel quite right. My "imbued spirit" isn't translating, or something. It could be, of course, that I'm not used to shooting film, having shot digitally for the past decade; but honestly, I don't think that's it. I do think however, it has something to do with the type of film I'm using.

I mentioned when sharing roll #2 that I wasn't sure I was a fan of the film I've been using (Kodak Portra), and I think I still feel this way: the colours (despite what their website shows) feel muted, flat. As is probably apparent by scrolling through the archives of my site, I'm more of a vibrant-pop-of-colour kind of girl, and try as I might on Photoshop, I can't get the images to show the sort of vibrancy I'd like, without seriously skewing the feel of the image. The best way I can describe it is like this: it's like taking a shot with your Instagram app on your iPhone, and you want to process it using the Lomo-Fi filter, but for some reason it's broken, and the only one that's working is Toaster.

(Okay, maybe that wasn't the best description. But those of you who use Instagram on iPhones probably get my point.)

Anyway, the upshot is this: for roll #5 (currently being processed), I tried a new film: Fujicolor Pro 400H film, which people tell me is known for colour vibrancy. Hopefully I'll have some good images to share with you next week, and I can tell you if the images feel more "me." Fingers crossed. And ultimately, please know that, regardless of my muted, flattened imbued spirit, I'm having a WHALE of a time using this camera. Seriously, it's like having a brand new toy to play with, and it's so much fun.

(In other completely unrelated news, as always, I'm sharing the things I'm grateful for this week over at Bliss Your Heart. Oh! And I'm trying to figure out how to drink more water -- any tips?)

And after all that crazy talk, have a great weekend, everyone.

* If you're interested, the article to which Justin was referring can be downloaded in PDF form by clicking here. It's a really great read.

Song: Colors by Amos Lee

rainy nights and rainy days ...

Karen Walrond — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 06:00:00 +0000

... are sort of perfect for finding awesome on the web. Here's some of the lovely photographic inspiration I've found over the last very rainy 48 hours (grab a cup of tea or coffee and settle in, this is some good stuff):

JR. I love anonymous street artist JR, and even though I've known of his work for a long time now, I finally found his website, a place where I predict I'll be lurking a lot going forward. If you're unfamiliar with his work, check out:

Women Are Heroes, a portrait of women in the 21st century ...

Bande Annonce Women Are Heroes by womenareheroes

... and Face2Face, his project in Israel/Palestine.

FACE 2 FACE trailer by JR and Marco by JR

Moment Junkie. I'm not someone who cries very easily at photographs; however, I apparently will make an exception for this site. Gabby Blair is responsible for this discovery, where special (and many unexpected) moments at weddings around the world are captured. Oof. I double dog dare you to scroll through the archives and remain stoic. I triple dog dare you.

Creating Time Capsules. I've mentioned my friend Xanthe Berkeley's work before: in addition to her own beautiful site, she's 1/2 of the two brilliant minds behind one of my favourite blogs, London vs. Paris. Well, darlings, that's not all she does -- take a look at this beautiful video time capsule she did, capturing her 2011, below:

Isn't that gorgeous? But even more exciting, Xanthe is launching her first online course, Creating Time Capsules, where she's going to be teaching her methods and techniques to help you create your own time capsules with your imagery. I've already signed up for the class, which begins Monday, February 20th. I. cannot. wait.

And finally (and even though this is not something I found in the last 48 hours), if you haven't signed up for gratitude.2012 yet, please go give it a gander. It might be just the thing to guarantee something good happens every month. And of course, I'd love to have you. The next newsletter goes out February 1st.

Song: I can't stand the rain by Ann Peebles

the changing nature of photography

Karen Walrond — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 06:00:00 +0000

So. Have you heard the latest about Eastman Kodak?

Yesterday, I came across this CNN article about Kodak's recent bankruptcy. It's a great, though somewhat depressing read about Kodak in particular, and the evolution of personal photography in general, but it was the following passage that caught my eye:

Amateurs, of course, have been indulging in digital for years. Processing film takes money and -- perhaps more importantly -- time. Now everything can be transferred from a camera to a computer as quickly as popping in a USB drive. Anticipation is as long gone from the process as Fotomat booths.

"My kids' relationship to photography is completely different," says Saab. "They think you take pictures with a phone." And prints? Almost never.

The last part of this excerpt almost made me weep openly.

Since I began journaling a few years ago, I try to print my favourite photographs -- just cheaply, uploading them online to a local drugstore and picking up 4"x6" prints an hour later -- and stick them randomly in the pages of my journal. My goal was to keep this practice up weekly, but I don't do it nearly as often as I'd like; sometimes months go by before I print any photos. Still, it occurred to me one day about a year ago that for all of the negative environmental press that paper gets, it's the only media that is guaranteed to still be accessible 50 years from now (for example, when's the last time you downloaded a photograph from a floppy disk?). Printed photographs might be the only real way to save them, you know? And that CNN piece agrees:

Indeed, there's an impermanence to it all now. As one commenter to the Atlantic story pointed out, "The pictures last, even if the cameras didn't: I have family photographs from the 19th century. I (wonder) if, in 100 years, people will have the digital images from the late 20th? 'Oh, yeah, they were on that computer that died and we never got the files off of it.' "

So I was wondering: do you guys ever print your photographs? Do your kids ever want cameras as gifts, or do they just go straight to the smartphones with cameras in them? Do you keep photo albums? I mean, not scrapbooks, necessarily, but just straight-up albums, full of nothing but photographs, like in the olden days? To own a camera, does a person have to actually be "into photography," rather than simply wanting to take the occasional snapshot or party pic? And if we're not printing photographs, and we're just opening our images to a fate of drifting off into the oblivion of old computers and crashed hard drives, what's the real reason we take photographs at all?

I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Song: Kodachrome by Paul Simon

random thoughts: a change of scenery

Karen Walrond — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 06:00:11 +0000

So I have this Dark Side.

Marcus and my friend Maile call this side of me "Klaus" -- the one they say is the "anti-Chookooloonks." They take this side of me in good humour (I think), despite the fact that this is the part of me that is irritable with the entire world. It's the one who gets angry with the television anytime a politician crosses the screen, or a negative bit of media crosses my path, or someone cuts me off on the road. Klaus is curmudgeonly. Klaus is misanthropic.

Klaus is not cute.

Last week, Klaus was raging. Everything was getting under my skin. I had all these projects that were going and I knew I should be excited about them, but I couldn't help it -- the news and the media were taking over my life so that I couldn't enjoy my own projects, and there was this angry pall that was just hanging over everything. Everybody who crossed my path was on my last nerve. By the time I got on the flight to Salt Lake City, I was starting to irritate me.

And then I landed.

I mentioned last week that Salt Lake City feels like taking a great big deep breath, and the same can be said of the Altitude Design Summit. I don't know how Gabby & her team do it, but they put on the most chill, inspiring conference out there. I stayed in an awesome hotel (shown above), I met great people, I hung out with old friends, and by the time I was on the flight back to Houston, I didn't even mind the two-hour delay on the runway because of snow and de-icing. I was a different woman.

And now, I'm back home, my to-do list is shockingly long, and I'm completely buried. And yet? Now I'm excited about my projects. It's like being round all those creative people gave me a brand new, fresh perspective. I can't wait to tackle my work.

Amazing what a change of scenery can do.

* * * * * * *

And now, to business:

First, according to Random.org, the winner of the awesome 16"x20" print artist Kal Barteski created from my words, "wildly convinced you're uncommonly beautiful," along with a signed copy of The Beauty of Different is Cathy Walters, who said "love the poster! love the message! :) Thanks for the chance to win." Congratulations, Cathy! Please check your inbox for an email from me getting all your mailing deets. (And everyone else: the prints are a limited run and going to go quickly, so if you'd like one, please preorder now!)

Secondly, if the thought of getting a bit of monthly photo inspiration, along with a bit of photography instruction while you help change the world is something that appeals to you, please take a look at gratitude.2012, and consider subscribing. If you sign up now, you'll be just in time for the February newsletter. I'd love to have you. (And I promise, Klaus is nowhere to be found.)

Song: Rolling in the deep by Adele

wildly convinced you're uncommonly beautiful

Karen Walrond — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 01:46:09 +0000

Amazing art by Kal Barteski

Isn't it beautiful?

This 16"x20" print you see above is a result of a truly awesome collaboration with rockstar artist Kal Barteski. It all started when one of my favourite online photographers, Rachel James, suggested that I create a poster for Chookooloonks. I thought it was a stellar idea, and since I've been using the phrase "wildly convinced you're uncommonly beautiful" as my tagline on Twitter since 2010 (and will also be doing so on my soon-to-be-revealed new site design), the timing was perfect. A few quick phone calls with Kal, and she whipped up the amazing design above. I was able to see the first run of the prints while I was in Salt Lake City last week, and it is seriously beyond any expectations I had. They are just stunning, and I'm so grateful. Best news? The limited run is available for preorder, and based on the reaction we received at the Alt Summit, they will go fast. Click here to preorder one for yourself!

But even better ...

I snagged one from Kal while I was there, and I'd love to give it away. So leave a comment saying whatever you'd like below, and I'll pick one commenter at random to receive a numbered print from this first run, along with a signed copy of The Beauty of Different, inscribed to whomever you'd like. It doesn't matter where in the world you're located, either -- this is a message that needs to spread worldwide.

* * * * * * *

Speaking of "uncommonly beautiful," here are the uncommonly beautiful faces I was thrilled to photograph in Salt Lake City:

Heather, politico extraordinaire behind Poliogue and No Pasa Nada.

Holly, English Rose and resident Shakespeare of Nothing But Bonfires.

Jordan, creative mind and event planner behind Oh Happy Day!

Leslie, the joy-filled, generous photographer of Lights and Letters.

Mae, the sweet soul Here in this House.

Meghan, talented photographer of Life Refocused.

Jennifer, the lovely, gentle interior designer of Dec-a-Porter.

Thanks to all of you lovelies for sharing your spirits with me -- it was a true pleasure to spend time with each of you.

(Don't forget to leave a comment!)

(Also -- have you signed up for gratitude.2012 yet? There's still time before the February 1st newsletter goes out -- click here to register!)

Update: The winner has been picked! Thanks to all of you who participated. Of course, if you still want a print, they are available for preorder now -- and I suspect they're going to go fast, so hurry!

Song: Beautiful as performed by The Lemonheads

hasselblad friday: roll #3 (or, i finally found some focus)

Karen Walrond — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 06:00:15 +0000

Before I left for Salt Lake, I managed to persuade my new film-processing-guy, George, to process my third roll of film.

(Actually, while I'm on the subject, let me plug him: if you're in Houston and process any kind of film at all, medium format or otherwise, George is the owner of The Photo Lab, on 1037 Blalock. Film processors are hard to find in Houston (particularly ones that don't cost an arm and a leg), and George does a great job, does it quickly, and possibly most importantly, does it inexpensively. I'm loving working with him, and really want to have other people experience his work as well. Run, do not walk.)

As always, I thought I'd share my learning curve with the Hassie with you. Honestly: this is my favourite roll I've shot so far, mostly because I finally figured out how to focus this thing. For example, when I saw how sharp the wilted tulip petals were above, I almost wept with relief. Finally.

This is Marcus' "Can I get a moment's peace, woman?!" face. The answer is no. No, he cannot.

ALEX'S FACE IS IN FOCUS. If you've been looking at my past images of Alex from this camera, you'd know that the fact that I managed to get her face in focus earns me a dark chocolate truffle. At the very least.

And in the next photo ...

... Rufus is in focus. On purpose. SO happy.

This shot was my experiment in shooting into the light. I'm pretty pleased with it. I think I'd like to shoot more like this.

I've got another roll with me here in Salt Lake City, so hopefully next week I'll have some cool Utah shots to share with you. In the meantime, friends, I'm off to enjoy the rest of the conference, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend. Have a glass of wine on me.

salt lake city

Karen Walrond — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 07:06:07 +0000

This is my third trip to Salt Lake City, and based on this tiny bit of experience, I've come to my official conclusion about this town: this is a peaceful place. There is something so quiet about Salt Lake City -- I don't know if it's the snow or the altitude or what it is, but every time I'm here, it's like a huge exhalation. This trip is no exception.

My friend Maile is here with me, and together with her, yesterday was all about leisurely lunches, many glasses of wine and chilly walks home after intimate dinners with new friends.

And the conference hasn't even officially begun.

I do love being here.

heading west

Karen Walrond — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 06:00:29 +0000

Today I leave for Salt Lake City to attend the Altitude Design Summit. This is the first conference I'm attending in a long while where I'm not speaking at all -- I get to just soak up all of the goodness in the audience. I'm so looking forward to it.

The weather's supposed to be a bit messy while we're there -- definitely snow, maybe some rain. I'm hoping for snow. It might be my only shot at snow this year.

(I talk big, but the truth is that I'm not good with the cold -- I'm more tropical, like the orchid up there. So if you'll be at the conference and you see me, please tap my shoulder and say hi. I'll be the chilly one in the back.)

random thoughts: on the wide world and why it matters

Karen Walrond — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 06:00:00 +0000

I remember having a conversation with someone a few years ago, mentioning how embarrassed I was that I really couldn't name all of the countries in Europe, or Africa, or even Asia. "I mean, if you mentioned a country name, I can probably tell you what continent it was on," I continued to explain, "but if you asked me to sit here and name every country in, say, Asia* off the top of my head, I'm pretty sure I couldn't do it. That's not good."

"I don't know," responded my friend. "I mean, does it really matter?"

* * * * * * *

Yesterday, Alex and I attended the funeral of a close family friend, Uncle Roy. Uncle Roy was from Grenada, and he and his Trinidadian wife were two of the first friends my family made when my dad came to work in Texas for the first time, as a young petroleum engineer in the late 60's. As Alex and I walked into the funeral home, it was obvious that the congregation was filled with people from all over the world. As a matter of fact, my father, who was asked to say a few words at the funeral, made a point of mentioning this: that Uncle Roy's kindness to my mom and dad, as relatively new immigrants to the United States (informed, in part, by Uncle Roy's own immigration story), was one of the most vivid examples he knew of Uncle Roy's trademark generosity. And everyone in the chapel nodded in knowing agreement.

Since returning home from the funeral, I've been thinking about how much immigration and emigration are such a huge part of my personal story. If my great-grandfather hadn't immigrated to Trinidad from China and met his Asian/Amerindian wife, my paternal grandmother wouldn't have been born. My paternal grandfather's story is similar, with the immigration of his Barbadian family to Trinidad. On my mother's side, her people hail from countries including India and Martinique, before arriving in Trinidad. My family immigrated to the United States -- several times. And if I hadn't emigrated from the US to England for a couple of years, I would've never met my English/Irish husband Marcus, married, immigrated back to the United States and adopted our Latina daughter. Just in my family, my immediate story is touched by at least 10 countries that I can count, and there are clearly more. **

And I haven't even begun counting friends.

Anyway, this means that by reading this blog, your story is now touched by a minimum of 10 countries. And if you're from a country that I haven't mentioned above, simply by your being here, my story is touched by yours. And if you've ever responded to each other in the comments, each of your and my stories are each touched by even more. Then there are your own social circles -- not to mention Twitter, and Facebook, and ...

..."does it really matter"?

Well, I think it does. The world is right here on our doorsteps.

* Incidentally, if you're curious, here's an online quiz testing your knowledge of the countries of Africa, Asia, South America and even the Caribbean. Let me know how you do!

** As a black woman, I clearly am also of African descent; however, I unsurprisingly have no idea which or how many African countries are represented in my family. And for what it's worth (because I suspect the question will arise), I self-identify as "black" and/or "West Indian." It seems the broadest, most accurate description. :)

Song: Diablo rojo by Rodrigo y Gabriela

the angel in the red hat

Karen Walrond — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 06:00:35 +0000

Last week around midweek, I received the following email:

any chance you live near the airport and could meet a sister for some tea?

Attached was a travel itinerary. It was from Myriam, a friend I introduced you to a couple of years ago, and who I hadn't seen in a few years. When you meet Myriam, the word that immediately comes to mind is "exuberant": she's full of smiles and child-like joy and playfulness, while at the same time demonstrating a searing intellect and a creative and profound spirit. Her itinerary indicated that on Saturday she would be on her way to Mexico, with a quick layover in Houston.

I don't live anywhere near the airport, but there was no way I was going to miss an opportunity to catch up with my friend in person. We quickly made arrangements, and on Saturday, I headed north to IAH.

Myriam came running through security with her trademark enthusiasm, almost bowling me over with her great big hug and huge smile. There was a Starbucks nearby with a couple of comfortable armchairs, so we grabbed two drinks and settled in for about an hour of proper nattering.

Last week was sort of a crazy, emotional, roller-coaster week, and I found myself spilling everything to Myriam. She listened intently, and as she always does, she said absolutely the right things in response, making me laugh in the process.

The hour passed far too quickly, and soon she had to rush to catch her flight. But first, we dashed outside for a quick photo shoot:

As I hugged her good-bye and watched her race through security (there was absolutely no line -- a first for Intercontinental Airport!), I realized that I felt lighter than I had in days. Ten minutes later I was on the road on the way back home, and she was gone. I have no idea when I'll see Myriam again, but I hope it's very soon.

And on the way home, I couldn't help but think that the whole experience felt like God or the Universe sent exactly the right person, right out of the blue and right into my life, at exactly the right time.

Complete with an awesomely-badass red hat.

Song: Any other day by Wyclef Jean, featuring Norah Jones