A moving me, an inanimate tree

A moving sea, an inanimate me

The transition from night to day

Concentration Change

I'm changing my concentration for two reasons. The first is that the idea doesn't interest me as much as I confessed it did. The other reason is that I don't have the desire to take photographs of my friends posing with their moms. I've decided to do my concentration on something that's more important to me. Movement. Both metaphysical and physical. It has occurred to me that everything is moving in today's world. Nothing that advances stands still. Nature is moving. Rivers are flowing to a destination. The waves in the ocean are crashing on sands unceasingly. A hummingbird flaps its wings and flies, or it dies. We don't live in a one-day situation. We live on a spinning earth with each day leading to the next. And if we don't spin with it, we're left behind in a sorrowful, still-standing void of unproductivity. I want to capture the types of movement on earth that we don't control, like the transition from night to day, or the way water moves. And then I want to capture human movement that seems necessary to us. Like getting to work on time. (Images of the infinite amount of cars' lights streaming buy on a busy road). But there is plenty movement that is creative, and fun, rather than necessary. This is where people interest me. What is the most fun way that I could get down these stairs? How creative can I be in riding this piece wood down this mountain? Can I do other things on my bicycle besides pedaling from point A to point B? Can I describe the way this music makes me feel just by the way I move and bend my body? I could go on. I'm fascinated with skateboarders. (Specifically skateboarders who love skateboarding.) I've witnessed them go on and on into the cold and blindness of evening ripping up concrete bowls indefinitely. "Don't you need some water?" "Afterwards." It's their desire to move, to induce pleasure by creative, acrobatic, dangerous, movement. Snowboarders are the same way. "You could get seriously hurt trying a backflip!" They say without the risk there is no thrill. There is something about being upside-down, suspended only by your own momentum. The wind rushing against you gives you a great sense of self-propultion. You never heard of evil kinevil jumping his motorcycle over ten automobiles only to land in an endless sea of soft marshmellows. "You could get seriously hurt trying to ride your snowboard down this twenty-stair handrail! You could just walk down the stairs you know." Is this a joke? Not only is the snowboarder going to ride his snowboard down the handrail, but then he will be so enlivened by what just happened that he will run back up the steps just to do it again. And then next time he will try and spin onto the rail. Maybe he will try and bend his board while on the rail! "You could have been seriously injured driving your motorcycle at seventy miles an hour off that sand dune and landing on that other one a hundred feet away!" "Yeah, but I FLEW!" It is the unending creativity in moving the human body that is what drives all action sports. This intrigues me. It excites me. I want to capture just one moment in time of these fun endeavors and turn it into ART!

Concentrating on my Concentration

So here's the idea. I was thinking about myself as a child, and how most of us little boys wanted to be like our dad--to please our papas. As little children, we gravitate to our same-sex parent. But as we reach adolescence and begin maturing, we are pulled to the care and attention of our mothers (if we are guys) and to our fathers (if we are girls). Dads praise their daughters, buy them things, care for them, (maybe too much) and protect them from evil young men that want to get in their pants. But it is the other side of the spectrum that I want to focus on, seeing as how I am becoming a man, not a woman. It is at this point in our lives that we grow to be as tall as our moms (they can't believe it!), and then we grow taller than our moms, and then even so much taller that we have to adjust the leg room of the driver's seat maybe a foot or two when we drive her car. Our moms baby us sometimes. They buy us gifts spontaneously, shower us with expectations, prepare us for prom, and want to talk to us about our feelings. During the latter years of high school, the amount of tension between mothers and their sons winds tighter, and the amount of emotional exchange burns brighter as well. This is my senior year. It is the year before I move to California and no longer see my mom every day. Maybe I'll see her a fifth of the entire year. Did she do a good job preparing me for this? No longer will I have a hot egg waiting for me on a white plate in the morning, there will be no more "Did you do your homework?" and no more seven-up brought to me when I have a cold. I'll be on my own. Most of us will be. My concentration is centered around these question: How does a mother-son relationship change over the course of the son's final years under her roof? How does a son spend his last saturated year with his mother, in spite of his urge to be independent from her? Is their mutual dettachment something to cry over, something beautiful, or something in between?

So I was looking at photographers online and stuff and I came across this girl's site. Nirrimi photography or something. It looked simple and I thought man I wish I had a website. There was this link down low, and now I have my very own miniature website! Its not much, but its exciting.

keltonphoto.carbonmade.com