Puff

Stainforth Cigarettes prompt provided by The Mag 149

Puff

Puff puff your cigarette

Smoke yourself 

to death.

While remembering

the Marlboro man

alive.

Hold the Virginia Slim

Just so poised

to show off your fingernails.

Copy Marlene Dietrich

All the villains

 And heroes in black and white

Fill the bar and your lungs

in cloaking blue haze

of smoke.

Ignore

The ashes and stale smell

your shortness of breath.

Puff puff your cigarette

Smoke yourself

to death.

J. Binford-Bell

December 2012

Note: I smoked. My father smoked. My sister smokes. When I was in college I went to the infirmary after my third case of bronchitis for the year. The doctor explained I had a choice - breathe or smoke. Breathing sound preferable. I worked for a construction company that was building tobacco plants in North Carolina. My not smoking did not go over very well especially when I filled the ashtray with M&M's as a subtle hint for the tobacco company execs to not smoke in my office. Obviously too subtle because it did not work. Hell of a waste of M&M's. 

I think I hate most the cleaning of ash trays. Hated it even when I smoked. So this was a difficult prompt for me.

The Photo a Day Challenge

Window from the past by J. Binford-Bell

On January 1, 2012 I began the 366 Day Photo Challenge on my Facebook Timeline. That is a lot of photos but in truth I took a whole bunch more than that. Maybe thousands. So the problem got to be which of the ones I took was I going to post for a particular day. Some others that do the 365 day challenge (I began in Leap Year ergo 366) do it to inspire themselves to always have their camera with them. Having my camera isn't the problem - going through the photos I take and looking critically at each one is.

Apologies to Monet

And because I was taking so many photographs and  post processing many more than I posted it got me to play around more with my photos.

Terracotta pot by J. Binford-Bell

Shadows of faded glory by J. Binford-Bell

Reflected Glory by J. Binford-Bell

And looking for the unique perspective on familiar subjects from pots to aspens to buffalo to portraits like the one of my sister below where it is just her jeep and her coat.

Portrait of my Sister by J. Binford-Bell

Meeting of the Minds by J. Binford-Bell

Photographer and subject by J. Binford-Bell

Lawn Chairs in Winter by J. Binford-Bell

Many of the 366 photos that made the four albums on my Timeline made it to one of my blogs: Creative Journey or Sidetracked Charley. And some of them made it as copies into a folder on my computer designated as 366 Challenge. But I didn't take as much care as I should have. And in 2013 I resolve to do better.

I will be posting my daily photos by the month and on my fanpage Binford-Bell Studio. Some of the 366 this year made it there as shares but this year it will be the primary post location. And weekly on a Tuesday I will be posting the weeks photos here on Creative Journey beginning January 8, 2013.

Memories are Made of This

Portrait of photographer and dog

They say that human memories are tied to smells and sounds. Many of us are immediately transported back to Mother's kitchen at the smell of turkey baking in the oven, or back years before to the first time we heard Bridge Over Troubled Waters.

Photographers and painters are also visually hardwired. When I go back though my images looking for that perfect photo I want to print up for a show I immediately remember the place and who I was with and a whole cascade of memories associated with that particular photographic trip.

The wall without my sister

The photo above is my favorite out of a series I took on the 23rd of December at the Ring Ranch on the Valle Vidal. It was cold and we took the mile walk with the wind and through snow sometimes almost a foot deep in places. And every time I look at it I feel the wind and see my sister standing before the corrugated metal shed.

Locked up?

Even a complex series of locks and chains around old posts strung with wire easily cut reminds me of a morning spent at the Maxwell National Wildlife Refuge with my photographer sister and our three dogs. I do not have to have taken the picture of the dogs to remember them and their antics.

Tree with a View

Those dogs had to be on a leash if out and before this picture was taken my sister and I tried to get them on leashes and out of the car and cameras in hands to take a walk along a pond on the refuge. They got us so tangled up! We broke down in hysterical laughter, cameras forgotten but clutched tightly. No doubt we scared all the birds away. But it was us adults that were not quiet. Our dogs do not bark or chase. They have been with their photographer owners enough to know all about those things.

Here's Looking at You

So when we drove by this deer in one of the wooded areas they were totally silent as I took this picture. Or the one below.

Buffalo Bull on the Vermejo Park Ranch

So very many pictures and so very many memories. May you and yours share wonderful memories this holiday whether your record them in sounds, smells or pictures.

A long way to spring

Not quite home

Every week, Tess Kincaid on The Mag gives us a visual prompt to start our creative minds churning on a poem or snippet of a story. This week it was a car on a lonely wet road in the middle of the country. Some weeks the image Tess chooses is an immediate jump start and others I download it and promise to think about it. On rare occasion nothing relates and I just enjoy reading the poems of others.

This week what the prompt brought forth for me was how alien that wet country road seemed. And how wistfully I returned to look at it. Such a contrast to the world outside my window this week. And so instead of a poem or a word story I give you a photographic essay beginning with my snowbound equivalent of her wet country road.

A moment of clarity in storm of blowing snow

My front windows look out on the hill across the rural county road and my assessment of the weather and the roads is often based on the view: Shirley's car parked at the bottom of her long drive; her foot prints visible or not in the snow drifts she must trudge to get into her warm home; the bend of the Ponderosa Pines on the top of the hill; the height of the now drift at their feet; blue sky visible or not

There is a pond beside the road

If I decide to venture out there are places I must go. I always take the camera. There is a road that passes by a pond just beyond these trees. The hope is to stay on the road but it too is covered with snow and the wind whips the snow and obscures the view. I quickly decided it was a manual focus sort of day. And longed for the fire in the wood stove at home.

Illusion?

The snow has been so opaque at times this series of storms that the lens and sensors in my digital camera want to focus on the snow and not the illusion of trees behind the smothering fall of flakes.

A tree stand alone

The snow driven by a restless wind erases the forest and the mountains and the sky. A solitary tree stands alone having gone unnoticed against its previous background.

I wait for the end of winter. I long for wet roads and not icy ones. I even think longingly about mud and flood season. But if you do not get lost or freeze or stuck or drive over the pond instead of the road it is beautiful to behold. But please give me just one day of blue skies and still air between storms.

Been There and Done That

Red River Fine Arts and Wine Festival

I did arts and crafts fairs from their heyday to two years ago. I had refined my booth and my exhibits and was winning prizes and doing well if not spectacular on sales. And long before I quit fairs I could see their downhill slide. You can blame Giclee prints or reproductions from China or pretend artists that were just into resale or the downward spiral of the economy. Or just that they become more and more entertainment than shopping opportunities.

I gradually cut down from 10 fairs a year to only two or three. And each fair I was disappointed more and more often by the lack of quality or the jury process that let in items mass produced in Mexico. And I got more and more bored with producing those items between $90 and $300 that sold well at previous fairs. I got so bored I was talking of quitting painting altogether. But because of my investment in van, booth furniture and lights and an established reputation at big fairs I kept going. Than the van broke. Really broke.

Sometimes events take control and demand an agonizing reappraisal. The demise of the Blizzard Lizard was such an event. As I looked around for a vehicle large enough to transport me to fairs but still that I could afford I began to question the wisdom of leaving my studio which is open to the public and traveling to fairs that cost entry fees, travel expenses, etc. to chase an ever increasingly rare buyer that didn't ask if I made prints, while watching the "artist" in the next booth unpack things from Made in China boxes.

Artsfest 2010 was my last art fair. Sales were good but I had to beg help from friends to get all my stuff there and back. Fortunately it was local. And two weeks later a regular customer popped into my studio and in two hours beat my sales at the fair. I sold my fair furniture and bought a Corolla with double the gas mileage of the van and have not looked back. And I get to paint what I want though it took almost six months to pick up a brush again. I kept my artistic spirit alive with photography and my name before the public with Facebook and entering exhibits and winning prizes.

Yesterday I went to a fair with a friend who also quit fairs at the same time. The two years had made me a true fair goer rather than a fair participant taking a break. I was frankly shocked at the continuing downward spiral of the venue. There were some very fine artisans at this particular fair but artists were dwindling. And their booths were side by side with made in Thailand beaded necklaces and Christmas baked goods from the local church. It is hard to sell a $1999.00 hand woven blanket coat when beside you a "photographer" is selling $30.00 printed at Walmart photographs hot matted on foam core.

Most of the out of town artists had not traveled huge distances but they had braved a snow storm and some of the artists slated to be there didn't show up. And a lot of the potential buyers had stayed home. When I walked in with my friend I felt like a tuna entering a circle of hungry sharks. Or my youth visiting Juarez with my parents fending off vendors. And some of the artists were downright rude. This is typically the last fair of the season and no more chances for income are on the horizon until March or June. Been there.

The same argument can probably be made with my studio. The open studio event got shut down by the same storm. But I will not have to come up with over a thousand dollars worth of entry fees and booth deposits before spring. And the studio is a great venue for giving classes. Or regular buyers calling up and making an appointment.

It is sad to see an era pass but it is nice to know that you are still flexible enough to endure. I am not sure how many fairs I will attend as a buyer. I found it depressing. But I really had fun during the time I did them.

Binford-Bell Studio in Black Lake, New Mexico

Lost at Sea

Prompt provided by The Mag

Lost at sea

Our past 

written 

in lines across a map

of years.

Our journeys

behind us

we look forward

to the unknown.

No map

ahead

we are lost

on a trackless sea.

J. Binford-Bell

Keep to the beat

Object to be Destroyed by Man Ray
Prompt by Tess Kinkaid

Keep to the beat

Set by others

or animate objects

waltz time

or funeral dirge.

No rests

just tick tick tick

march tempo

or tango.

Make it march

I bowed to my partner

and exited

the floor.

I think I will sit this one out.

J. Binford-Bell

December 2012

The View

Mag 145 - Prompt provided by Tess Kincaid

The View

As squats went

it was just another

drafty and leaky

abandoned building.

On the second floor

facing the east

he could watch the birds

from the red chair.

Listen to their song

through the broken windows

as they greeted the dawn

in the tree tops.

For those few moments

he was home

not just living

from dawn to dawn.

J. Binford-Bell

November 2012

Weather Coming

Squall by Andrew Wyeth

Eye on the horizon

face to the freshening breeze

all senses alert

weather coming.

Standing at the window

coffee mug in hand

considering the day

whether in or out.

Clouds building

pressure dropping

headache building behind the eyes

change is coming.

Weather moving in

carried on a shift in the wind

shut all the doors and windows

Weathered in.

J. Binford-Bell

November 2012

Prompt by Tess Kincaid on The Mag

For the Glory of War

Verdun by Felix Vallotton
Mag 143 prompt

For the Glory of War

we paint war in patriotic colors

speak of it in heroic terms

For the Glory

they die in the thousands

hundreds of thousands

on the beaches of Normandy

in the fields of Verdun.

For the Glory of War

we write ballads with drum and fife

pen epic poems and tomes

For the Glory

of all the men who died

so the next generation can die again

on some beach or hill

as yet unnamed.

J. Binford-Bell

11-11-2012

In Memory of all who have died for the Glory of War

Cemetery at Verdun, France 

Raton's Windows and Alleys

Parking by J. Binford-Bell

I go over to Raton, New Mexico rather more than I would like at times. But I know if I take my camera and take the time I will have some great photos to bring back. This last Thursday when I had to run art over to the Old Pass Gallery for their Christmas Show was not exception. I found a great new coffee shop, Enchanted Grounds, and photo opportunities in the old town area.

The Past Reflected by J. Binford-Bell

Old Pass Gallery is in the old Wells Fargo building near the train station in the old town part of Raton. It is reflected in the windows of a closed businesses across the street.

History by J. Binford-Bell

I got chatting with an owner of one of the businesses that is still open and he was telling me of the plans to put in a park and planters and benches along the wide street. And even close off one end so it is just a walking mall. Political in fighting has put those plans on hold. Sad because it could be a great area for tourists and residents alike. He directed me to the Enchanted Grounds Coffee Shop where I had a half order of French Toast (do not attempt the full order) before continuing to the alleys.

Stucco Monet by J. Binford-Bell

X Marks the Spot by J. Binford-Bell

Gas Mains by J. Binford-Bell

Fall Shadows by J. Binford-Bell

It was a gorgeous Indian Summer day to walk the streets. And I was almost two hours early for the Old Pass Gallery to be open and I could drop off my paintings and my sisters photographs for their holiday show which should now be open. Stop in and see the art but look at the art around you that is not framed.

Opening by J. Binford-Bell

Done

Done

All for naught

Walking in circles

looking for a way out.

Exhausted

Against the canyon walls

end of the journey.

Recorded

on aging film

the last wan smile.

Bones

Tattered pieces of cloth

Brownie box camera.

Final

journey

done.

J. Binford-Bell

November 2012

Visit The Mag for links to other poems taken from the visual prompt by Edward Weston

Reflections

Reflections and Mist by J. Binford-Bell

I have done a lot of reflective work this year. To do reflections takes practice. And it also takes getting up at the crack of dawn. If the golden hours of photography are those closest to dawn and sunset that goes double for reflections. And here in the mountains the water is going to be the smoothest early in the morning. And you need to find a pond or body of water with an interesting landscape around it. I frankly like ones with aspens because the white trunks show up very well even through a morning mist.

After the leaves are gone by J. Binford-Bell

And most digital photography books will tell you to include the least amount of the "real" landscape. The reflected colors are always more deep. And like on the last picture in this blog the sky is a poor second to the reflection of the sky in the water. 

Shore grass by J. Binford-Bell

The reflection is always the opposite shore. But sometimes the detail on the near shore or what is floating in the pond can add interest to a photograph of a the reflection.

Aspens ala Monet by J. Binford-Bell

And sometimes the surface of the water is just too smooth and you need a ripple to add interest and make it look like something other than an upside down landscape. I patiently wait at times for my dogs to step into the water on my side of the pond.

Ripples by Magique

And this fall season I used the reflective quality of water to give me an interesting perspective on the Aspens which were glorious and seemingly endless.

Double your pleasure by J. Binford-Bell

Caught

Caught

Out past dawn

saying goodbye

in the rain.

Caught

soaking wet

without a taxi.

Caught

by the nosy neighbor

kissing your best friend's wife.

J. Binford-Bell

Just a Junk Yard Dog

Wheels within Wheels by J. Binford-Bell

Our glorious fall is turning nasty. And the aspens are about done with all the spectacular gold. Thoughts of winterizing house and car take precedent and so I found myself at the local mechanic's garage waiting for my rear brake job. I always bring my camera because he has a wonderful parter yard. The above I am told is a part from a clutch but it looks rather like a spaceship. The one in Stephen King's Tommy Knockers comes to mind.

Junkyard Clown by J. Binford-Bell

This ATV waiting for repair had the look of a horror flick clown. And I could not resist doing a post processing acid trip to heighten the effect.

Fender abstract by J. Binford-Bell

I forgot about the cold wind as I moved around behind my camera searching out details to record. I have done other parts of the old truck above before. I love the abstract painting qualities of focusing in on broken out tail lights, etc.

Transfer case????

Clutch Plate in Black and White by J. Binford-Bell

Conduits by J. Binford-Bell

Junkyard Dog

And of course the junkyard dog. Shows you just how laid back our community is. There is even a junkyard cat that was hiding out on this particular day.