Jordan and Molly are engaged.  This is super news.

They fill me with joy when I am with them.

On an unseasonably warm December day, we took some photos to celebrate.

It’s all different the second time around.

I had so much to say about last year’s experience from Burning Man.

This year I don’t.

It was, unexpectedly, a roller coaster of emotions.  I have no idea why.

But it was what it was.

I was very happy to be part of a great community of people:

Tunnel of Love
and
Bloop

My photos from this year don’t catch the majesty or mystery of Burning man.

I am not thrilled with the results of my shutter finger.

But I am happy to have bagged some beautiful portraits of some beautiful people.

I hope to return next year.

And get mixed up in the beautiful insanity all over again.

-JoeySee

My man Reese and I rolled up to the Sawtooth Music Festival at 7pm on Friday evening.
Our hour long drive from Sun Valley was the same ol’ nothing but beautiful – north
on 75 up over Galena Summit, past Smiley Creek Cabin (home of the world’s best
milkshakes… or at least Idaho’s best milkshakes), rolled past Redfish Lake and
then a left at the Stanley turnoff.

We missed the first 3/4ths of the weekend, but we were determined to
enjoy ourselves to the fullest for the remainder of the party.  Our first task
was to find a camping spot.  This first task was made easy when, while
still sitting in Reese’s Honda Element, we were set upon by two
beautiful girls – Amy and Darcy – who are not lesbian sisters,
who immediately offered us swigs of Sweet Tea Vodka
and warned us not to leave the vicinity without setting up camp.

Now, denying one pretty girl might have been difficult, but denying
TWO pretty girls seemed downright impossible, if not just plain silly.
We found a cush spot a few cars away and set out to dance and see the music.

And then the rain came.

And the thunder and the lightning.

The rain drops were like cold tiny water balloons and they fell
like industrial sprinklers at a perfect 45 degree angle from the south.

The four of us took refuge in Reese’s Element and enjoyed the
half case of PBR that was conveniently located at our feet.  An acoustic
jam session ensued, full of steel strings, harmonicas and the always
essential tambourine.

Plus an orange glow stick axe, of course.

And then the sun came out.

Just in time to set.

And then when I didn’t think it would get any prettier, a rainbow appeared.

As did two other beautiful people, Mary and Cherene.

All at once, there was a rainbow to the east, a sunset to the west, and
sun-kissed mountain peaks to the south.  It was like we were all
Hobbits, marching away from Mordor for the last time.

Is that too much of a LOTR nerd reference?

I don’t think so.  A few people told me the same thing, and
we became instant friends.  (Obviously)

Nite fell upon us, as did the rain, later that evening.  We
resorted to more acoustic jam sessions and indulging in
our rapidly depleting stash of PBRs.  Mary and Cherene
helped restock us halfway thru the performance, and
we were eternally grateful.

The band known as Free Peoples were gypped of their set
that Saturday nite, and so for 2 hours late into the darkness,
they played next to the stage with only their amps and
one microphone to carry their sound thru the field.
They rokked my face off, and I’m pretty sure the fiddle
player melted the majority of the other 150+ audience
members faces as well.

And so it was that a faceless audience was rokked to
sleep that nite in front of the Sawtooth mountains
under the milky way.

And the next morning, we all awoke to a fog that
hadn’t been seen in months.

My man Timone and Tess drove me home the next day
while Reese went off on a kayaking adventure.

And then for good measure, I schooled Timone and Tess on
my new favourite phenomenon – Owling.
(You must see the bottom photo on that page – “Hawking”)

Though I think I may have to still work on my form a bit.

-JoeySee

My wonderful friend Gewelz invited me to play around in the ICP studio with her a few weeks ago.  I called up two friends of mine who just happen to be very pretty ladies, and had them come model for us.

Every time I get into a studio situation, I realize I only have a vague idea of what I can do, how I can do it, and how this that and the other piece of equipment works.  Lighting is an ongoing experiment for every photographer, but for some reason I feel like I start from square one every time.  I imagine after shooting often enough, one develops their own style – they know what lights they like, they know where to put them, how to modify them, etc.  I haven’t gotten there yet.  I need to shoot a lot more regularly to develop that.

The photos from this session came out pretty alright.  I feel like the photos are lacking life… something original, something memorable.  I blame myself for that.  I have a lot of learning to do.

I also have no idea what to do in post with these photos.  Some are touched up slightly with basic contrast and some curves.  Some are a bit more effected.  If anyone has any suggestions or comments or pointers about post-production work on studio photos, I’d love to hear them.

The good news is, the girls looked great, thanks in part to Liz Piper, our make up artist.

And now, the photos:

Models: Jill Scambia and Erica Hernandez
MUA: Liz Piper
Photos: JoeySee

-JoeySee

My Grandpa Jojo passed away on December 8, 2010.  He was 3 months shy of turning 95.

I wanted to take this opportunity to share with people aspects of his life, and to share the eulogy I wrote for him.

————————————-

The day I heard about G-pa’s passing, I was in Austin.  I went to a spot on the University of Texas campus where there was this great fountain – an infinity pool at the base, overflowing to create tiny, sporadic waterfalls, and in the center of the fountain, 20 high powered water jets shooting like fire hoses into the sky.  I smiled because I thought it was a fitting tribute to Gramps – a boy who had been too poor to go to college to be an engineer like he wanted to be, and so instead, spent 35 years as a NYC firefighter, ending up as chief.  I did the math, and realized that Grandpa had retired 36 years ago.

Y’know, I think the only people who knew of my Grandpa who are not fully sharing in our grief are the people at the pension board at the NYC Fire Department.

I can imagine them, year after year, going thru their records…  “Carboni?  Yea, sign for that one… Cardell… Cardella?  Joe Cardella?  STILL?  HOW OLD IS THIS GUY?  Is he ever going to die?”

I think all of us wondered that, though.  We all knew that G-pa wasn’t the epitome of health.  Just ask anyone who had to sort out his pills.  It was like a rubiks cube, a game of chinese checkers, and a MENSA test all rolled into one just to sort them out into the right days and doses.  No, his health did not keep him alive.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and venture to say that it wasn’t Grandpa’s rational decision making in his later years that kept him going either.  To this day, I don’t think anyone ever gave Gramps a good enough answer as to why a 92 year old with arthritis, no feeling in his feet and extremely poor reflex skills shouldn’t continue driving.

I think it was something else.  It was something extraordinary that kept Grandpa going.  Something not often seen in men his age.

I think, and I’m pretty sure about this, that what kept Grandpa alive and attentive so long, and what had doctors scratching their heads up to the very end, was the simple fact that Grandpa LOVED to LIVE.

Grandpa saw so much to live for in this life, and to him, it was all plain as day.  I remember hearing the story of when Gramps first went into the hospital after having his stroke a few months ago.  The nurses were going thru standard procedures and questions, and one of the questions they asked Grandpa was,

“If anything were to happen, and you were to flat line or anything, do you want us to revive you?”

Now, I can only imagine the look of incredulity on my Grandpa’s face when he finally comprehended what it was they were asking him.

And his answer, was characteristically Grandpa…. “YEA!  OF COURSE!”

Grandpa had experienced and lived thru unbelievable times.  The Great Depression, 2 world wars, the coming about of technologies, everything from radio to TV to computers and the internet, the development of automobiles and plane travel – civil rights, times of peace, times of strife – what an amazing 94 years to be alive.

But all those events were just “things that happened” while Grandpa walked this earth.  That wasn’t what he lived for.

Grandpa saw… very wisely… and he taught all of us that it is LOVE that is worth living for.  Loving one another unconditionally.  Grandpa and Grandma Edy had that love for each other, for their family, and all the people in their lives.  Though Grandma Edy moved on 24 years before Gramps, we felt her spirit living thru Grandpa.  And now they are both finally reunited and carry on their love.

Grandpa’s love for all of us here was so obvious.  He did anything and everything for his family.  He helped all of his kids and grandkids get on their feet and on with their lives, whether by writing a check, drawing up house plans, swinging a hammer, or wiring the house.  He helped all his kids not just build their houses, but build their homes.

Grandpa exposed us to the great outdoors – to camping, boating, water skiing, tubing, fishing… Y’know, we never caught many fish on our boat.  We could be out there for hours on a warm summer day, rocking back and forth in the waves, pulling up nothing but seaweed, and if we were lucky, an occasional sea robin or spider crab.  But not Grandpa.  Grandpa would always be the only one who pulled anything edible out of the water and onto the deck of our boat.  And he always had this sly, mischievous smile about him when he saw our astonished faces with each fish he grabbed.  I don’t think it was a secret of his.  He would’ve told us.  Maybe fish just were attracted to him.

Now, of course, nobody is an angel.  Well, I’m told Grandma Edy was, but surely, Grandpa was no exception.  We all got yelled at by Gramps at some point or another – some got yelled at more than others.  It was pointless arguing with the man, yet we somehow always forgot that fact when we came head to head.

And oh my was G-pa stubborn.  I already mentioned his insistence that he should still be allowed to drive at age 92, despite the fact that he couldn’t walk straight down the hallway.  And perhaps the longest standing battle we had with Grandpa was over his refusal to wear his hearing aids.  He argued that he didn’t need hearing aids.  His hearing wasn’t the problem.  The problem was that every single one of us, mumbled, when we talked.

Much later in his life, Grandpa’s human flaws became less irritating, and became more of running jokes for his family.  As many times that we rolled our eyes at Grandpa, we laughed just as much.  And I think it’s best that was, because Grandpa truly kept us laughing until the very end.

Some well known stories of recent past:

When the nurse would replace his feeding tube with a fresh tube, he would look up at her and say, “Mmm… good!”

One time when the nurse gave Grandpa some liquid medicine thru a tube to his stomach, Uncle Rick suggested they could probably fit a Manhattan in there.  Grandpa considered it for a second, and then corrected Uncle Rick… “Maybe two…”

Grandpa was always a big hit with the ladies, young and old.  Maybe that’s why I wasn’t very surprised on my last trip to see him when I found out that he had something of a girlfriend at Ashton place.  He told me about her…

“She’s 88 years old!” he said with a slight smile and a look of wonder in his eyes.

I couldn’t tell what he meant by that.  Was that a good thing or bad thing?  After all, Grandpa’s biggest complaint about living at Ashton place had nothing to do with the place itself.  His complaint was “People here are too old!”  Said the 92 year old.

Grandpa’s popularity with the ladies continued right until the very end.  All the nurses had a crush on him.  And who could blame them?  He turned to me one day when I was sitting with him in the ICU.  A pretty nurse had just swabbed out his mouth, checked his monitor, and adjusted his pillows.  They exchanged pleasantries and Grandpa flashed his trademark “crooked but charming” smile.  She left the room and he said,

“All the nurses here are so nice.  And they’re so pretty!”

“I know!  That one was super cute.”

Without breaking eye contact with me, Grandpa said,

“Now can you imagine having them wash your balls?”

Grandpa wasn’t one for expensive tastes.  He took pleasure in simple things.  He was a social butterfly, just like Grandma Edy had been.  He was happiest when there were people around to share in good conversation.  He loved a good home cooked meal, shared around the dinner table.  You could tell how much he loved it by how long it took him to eat it.

Gramps is terribly slow when it comes to eating meals. It truly is incredible. Hell, he’s got nothing to rush for, so he really really reaaallllly takes his time. In real time, if we sat down at the dinner table together and both started eating at the same time, I could finish my meal, have seconds, unbutton my pants button, digest, get a piece of cake, make tea, eat the cake while my tea cools down to drinking temperature, drink my tea, take the dog around the block, write an email, have a bowl of ice cream, play a round of darts, take a nap and come back to the table only to find that Gramps still has half a piece of pork and some vegetables left to eat. I’m exaggerating of course. He’d probably have finished the pork.

Instead of watching TV, he preferred doing a crossword puzzle.  Now, crossword puzzles with Grandpa was always hysterical from a spectator’s point of view, and it always tested your patience when you were the one doing it with him.

I was always astounded that he never believed that I read him the clue accurately.

“17 across… Poet Whitman” I’ll say.

“Huh? Where are you looking?”

“17 across Gramps.”

“17… What’s it say?”

“Poet Whitman.”

“Where is it?”

At which point I’ll point to the 17 across clue and he’ll crane over the paper, squint his eyes and say aloud, “Poet Whitman….”

He’ll look to the puzzle and finish, “Walt. Yea. It’s gotta be Walt.”

And it was the same with every clue.

We saw in his later years how nothing made Grandpa quite so happy as being surrounded by his family.  Even if he couldn’t hear a single word of what was being said and was often caught staring into space, he found no greater joy than to be around those he loved.

G-pa took pride in everything he did, from his champion rifle shooting days in high school, to his master craftsmanship in his woodshop.

Grandpa took the most pride in his family.  He was so proud of everyone in his family.  You didn’t need to give him a reason to start gloating about his grandkids.

How Rachel was always at the top of her class, how Merriah always kept us laughing in the family, how quickly Matt moved up the ranks as a Marine, how Derek was becoming a self made man…

Grandpa reveled in the attention he got at Ashton Place after Luke, Claire and Mallory put on a performance.  “People I don’t even know were coming up to me!  They were so good!”  Grandpa was always looking forward to another letter from Andrew, telling him about his adventures from all over the world.  He offered me the letter 4 times the last time I visited.  I’m not sure if that was because he loved it that much or because he forgot he offered it to me already, but I prefer to think it was the former.

And Gramps always made it known to me that he was proud of me for following my own dreams, wherever they took me.  And he made sure that I knew the decisions I made were the right ones, and they would lead me to where I needed to be.  Grandpa supported all of us in the pursuit of our individual dreams.  That has been invaluable to everyone in this family.

Grandpa Jojo was an important anchor in all of our lives.  He will continue to be that anchor thru all that we learned from him.  We know that he has moved on, not before his time, but when he was ready, and on his terms.  He filled our lives with love, and we filled his.

In our family, we never liked saying good-bye.  We’ve even gone so far as to substitute other words to suggest a parting of ways for now.  “Elephant” I believe is what we’ve been saying for years.

But even now, there is no finality here.  Grandpa lives in each of us, and for that, all we can say, is “Thank You”.  We love you.

So tonite, we drink Manhattans and toast to Grandpa.  I’m sure everyone has a story to tell.  Let the celebration of his life, begin.

Recipe for G-pa’s favourite drink:  The Manhattan

2 1/2 ounces of Seagrams 7 Whiskey

1 1/2 ounces of Tribuno Sweet Vermouth

Dash of Orange Bitters

On the rocks

-JoeySee

]]> http://joeysee.com/blog/2010/12/remembering-g-pa/feed/ 4 http://joeysee.com/blog/2010/11/katie-g/ http://joeysee.com/blog/2010/11/katie-g/#comments Sun, 28 Nov 2010 17:33:15 +0000 JoeySee http://joeysee.com/blog/?p=1673 NOTE: the images in this feed have been downsized or removed for copyright reasons. To see them in their unmodified state, please view the original post by clicking here.

It was late on a Monday nite.  I had arrived in Delaware earlier that day, and spent the majority of it reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of fire inside of a local coffee shop called Central Perk.  After an evening spent eating wings at a bar and watching Michael Vick single-handedly crush the Washington Redskins (I’m not an Eagles fan, I just was amazed at how dominating Vick was), I returned to the friendly Starter Home at the end of Chapel St. where my friends reside.

I walked into a living room full of Deltones.  What are Deltones?  Check out their website – www.deltones.com – to find out.

Their rehearsal was ending, and as everyone scurried about and rushed home to their dorms and places of residence, only a few stragglers remained behind to chat.  Katie was one of them.  I looked at her and asked very simply, “When am I going to photograph you?”  We agreed that Thursday would work.  And it did.

Here’s Katie…

A few weeks ago, I had the distinct pleasure of going for a walk in the woods with Chelsea.

The wind was fierce, the colours were exploding, and we talked about the bass ackwards idea that Chelsea was raised a NY Giants fan, despite the fact that she grew up in upstate NY, which should put her squarely in the misery camp with the rest of us Buffalo Bills fans.

What a great day for photos it was!

We had some free time, so Jason and I brought Beth out to shoot some photos.  Dig it.

I love that I have so many beautiful friends.

Chloe is one of them.

She makes taking pictures easy.

I hope we get to shoot together again sometime soon.

-JoeySee

A few weeks ago, I finally was able to meet up with and photograph my musician friends, Jenny & Tyler.

We went to a park just outside of Wilmington around dusk, had an awesome time, and got some beautiful photos.

Here are the results!

Don’t forget to check out Jenny & Tyler’s music here  -  www.jennyandtylermusic.com

Dig it…

-JoeySee