Transatlantic, “All of the Above“:
When October winds lay down,
When the heat can’t melt the ground,
And nothing matters anyway.
When October winds take hold,
And you’re down that dank, dark road,
Maybe nothing matters anyway.
Taken about a year ago on my morning commute.
Miss my country backroads so much.
Let the Summer Come Again – Ann Arbor, Michigan
Hey! Project complete.
A summer’s worth of blog posts and black and white photos, in the bag. You can read the whole lot using my “daily” tag.
Now that fall’s here, it’s back to (mostly) full color glory alongside (mostly) daily blogging.
Have a great weekend.
I used to have more time to make photos.
My commute was 30 minutes, but if I left early I could stop and take a landscape, or catch a beautiful sunrise. And sometimes, I’d have enough time to explore an abandoned building or home. Beautiful country roads, lovely scenery, and no rush.
Not so much anymore. My commute is now an hour long, at minimum, and it’s mostly interstate driving. This cuts back on the time I have to get out and explore.
One of the casualties of this new setup is my abandoned photography. My commute is longer and busier, I work on a big-time college campus in a mid-sized city, and I just don’t have the time like I used to. It’s a bummer.
Part of me also feels like I’m moving on from urbexing, creatively. I want to do new things, and make different kinds of photographs.
Except when I take a new way into work, like I did last week. Instead of busy I-94 East, I ventured down US-12. It added 20-30 minutes to my drive. It was so worth it. For one, it felt like my old commute: moseying at a nice pace, lots of scenery to check out, and the fog helped make the landscape extra interesting.
For two, I noticed a few abandoned building opportunities (including my old haunts in the Irish Hills) – like this abandoned farm structure.
The itch still gets me when I see an abandoned property. It used to be a big part of who I was, creatively, and I’ve had to let some of that go. But it’s okay. I’ll try to make time for adventure when I have the time and inclination.
Taking a vacation is a good excuse to make some photos. You’re in a new place, with new sights and people to see. Everything is fresh and wonderful (especially when they have lobster rolls along the Atlantic Ocean, as above).
But most of us can’t take a vacation all the time.
So what if you took little trips, around your hometown, or to the cities you’re next to?
I started a little project based on small towns around Michigan a few summers back – little towns that I had never visited, or had only traveled through. I’d take a lunch hour and prowl around main street, and shoot what I see.
You don’t have to go far to see a new place. Chances are, there’s something to see within a few miles of where you are right now. This idea is not new.
August is travel season for a lot of people. Now, challenge yourself to travel a little more local for a new perspective.
After starting my new job in March, I did what I always do: got out and explored.
I’ve been to Ann Arbor, Michigan, many times, and done a lot of shooting here. Now that it’s my jobby-job town, there are a lot more opportunities to get out and see the city. Lunch hours, in between meetings, after work – all good excuses to get out and make photos.
This is, at its most basic, the best reason to make photography a hobby. You get to really learn about and know a place through the viewfinder.
A new place also provides that little spark of freshness you might need to practice your craft.
Do your everyday surroundings get stale? Go somewhere new, and – bam – instant inspiration.
Ann Arbor, Michigan
My new “commute” in the morning: walking past the student union and on to the Museum of Art.
Goodbye Hedgerow – Pulaski, Michigan
A sad sight – lots of farms in south central Michigan are removing their hedgerows. The reason is probably straight economics, since the tree line limits a farm’s arable land.
But still: hedgerows are what makes my country road commute so lovely, each and every season. Now there are just flat fields from horizon to horizon.
Welcome Year Zero – Grass Lake, Michigan
Thanks to my urbexing pal @sethingtons-creations for the quick portrait. Check out my interview with him – he does good work!
“Art is the communication of feelings. If what you’re doing isn’t evoking a feeling, then what you did is arguably not art.”
Jake Perry says it was God’s plan all along that he’d end up where he is now: a videographer for Radiant Church, on Spring Arbor Rd.
He gets to live a creative life, both at work and on personal projects. His work at Radiant fulfills his need to accomplish something for a greater purpose. And his personal projects fulfill him creatively.
“I have this mix of purely creative stuff that may or may not see the light of day, but at least I can be creative for creativity’s sake. And then for this job, I get to be creative and have it make a difference,” Jake says. “So having those two together is pretty sweet.”
Jake’s work at Radiant started because a friend of his got a job at Radiant Church in Kalamazoo and suggested he apply for the videographer position. Jake didn’t get the job, but he did meet the future pastor of the Radiant Church, Mike Popenhagen, who was headed to Jackson. Now, he’s Mike’s assistant, helping promote the church, shooting video announcements, and taking photos of events.
“I get to see the smallest things I do matter to people,” Jake says.
For side projects, Jake helps as a director of photography for Cinema Grove, working on short films and documentaries.
The way Jake sees it, artists are merely a prism through which they interpret God’s will.
“Creative people are more sensitive to communicating with what’s already there and unlocking it,” he says. “Art is the communication of feelings. If what you’re doing isn’t evoking a feeling, then what you did is arguably not art.”
To communicate those feelings, Jake likes working with the basics of image-making.
“I love light, period,” he says. “Being a cinematographer, it’s important for your whole life to be light and shadow.”
Taking inspiration from music, architecture, and photography, Jake pictures himself as a storyteller and uses the stories around him to express himself creatively. It starts with people.
And people, he says, are what make Jackson’s creative community so special. They’re not competitive, and they’re willing to learn and grow together.
“It’s a community that’s not a bunch of sharks with blood in the water,” Jake says.
But Jackson tends to view creative work in a skewed way.
“Jackson is a place that doesn’t value creativity as much as it should, even though it’s ripe with it. And that’s sad,” he says.
Jake stays in Jackson because he feels like God has a plan for him here, and that Jackson may not be done with him just yet. He learned that when he tried to get a job out of the community.
Jackson, as it does so often with others, pulled him back. That’s when he learned to trust God’s plan for him.
“As soon as I did, things made sense and started to fall into place.”
Buy the Artists In Jackson book | Jake Perry on YouTube
Ann Arbor, Michigan
