Welcome to the new (and hopefully) improved nadreck.org! After becoming extremely frustrated with my own meddling and disorganization, I finally decided to seek alternate methods to achieve my intended goal (pain free layout, thus easier to access any and all CONTENT I can make available. It also makes it easier for me to get content onto the site, since I have to worry less about formatting and site organization).
Not mine, of course. I’m just here as a witness, a guest (and as a photographer). It is interesting watching how different people prepare for graduation. Some women dress up in flowing gowns (quite attractively, in fact). A few graduates roam in and out of the hall, getting their beloved ones situated in their allotted seats. It’s all pretty strange, a strange tension/untension. People are tense, but happy, and refuse to admit to the tension they hold. It’s not like there are any real surprises anywhere in here. The people will sit up on the stage and, one by one, be called upon, and given a diploma signifying… well, nothing. Signifying whatever that graduate WANTS it to signify. We are all simply here on our own agendas, in whatever fashion they are.
More please. I’m not done writing.
I’m not sure exactly what I want to say, but I want to say something.
Let’s create some characters, shall we?
I just spent a week in DC, with Mickey, which was a great deal of fun, even if I did get into a funk towards the end. I don’t like it when I get that way, especially when it causes people who care about me to become concerned (like Mickey). But that is over and done now: I’m back up in Vermont (well, Dirt Cowboy at the moment), and she’s down in DC, working. I’ll be heading back down there in November, though exactly when is yet to be determined.
When last I wrote (on the 15th), I ended because my friend Richard suddenly showed up after not seeing him for a year and a half. Or at least I thought it was him. (I was right). Hopefully, he’ll be around more now that he knows the Dirt is open in the evenings.
I don’t really understand the mode I’m in at the moment. My head is all jumbled, a mixture of enjoyment and frustration. I had a doctor’s appointment today, which immediately throws you off (it doesn’t necessarily turn it into a bad day, it simply makes it an off day), as a matter of spite.
This will hardly be an essay that most people at this point and time will agree with. Nevertheless, it is how I feel, based on what Iâve seen and done over the past few months. There is an underlying animosity towards digital media and computers in a great deal of the traditional artistic community (photographers included), much in a similar fashion as there was when photography was introduced. This is further exacerbated by the unwillingness of the photographic community to accept digital photography in the same fashion that it did with film. They consider it to be âmodifiedâ from the original print, meddled with and thus relegated in general to digital awards. My hypothesis is that perhaps they are not entirely incorrect. Digital photography in many ways is a different medium altogether from film.
Digital Photography is a multistep process. Like film, it involves a camera. Like film, it involves exposing a sensor (film being the sensor in filmâs case). They both record an image. But really, they start to diverge at the point of recording the image. In one case, it involves an emulsion, light sensitive chemicals recording the image displayed. In the other case, however, it records it as data, collecting the color information for a particular point. While the image may look the same in the end, the process itself is the beginning of divergence. For instance, because of the difference in recording method, it is possible to counteract the reciprocity factor of film to do multiple or extended exposures on the same piece of film, to great effect. With digital media, that just isnât possible: once a sensor is saturated with data, all that is added from an extended exposure is noise. It is VERY difficult to get an extended exposure digital image that is not noisy to the point of making the image unusable. Because of this, you simply cannot do multiple exposures in the same shot with a digital camera. At least yet — Iâm sure a method at some point will be discovered.
We persist in treating digital photography as the same as traditional photography, because of the similarity in output. But technically, there is a great deal that can be done with digital photography that is unique to the medium, that doesnât get touched upon, because of this mindset. I suppose what Iâm trying to say is that there is a difference between a cyanoprint and a photograph, and likewise, there is a difference (albeit more subtle) between a digital image and a photograph. There is data within a digital print that could be used to great effect, if the appropriate tools were created. Instead, though, we restrict ourselves to trying to get it to look as much like a traditional photograph as possible. What about applying ourselves to finding ways of getting the images to look like various painterly techniques? The information is there to do so, we simply have to elect to do it.
I suppose what I am trying to say, is that I would like to see digital media not put in the corner in the art community. If people would stop being so arrogant and close-minded about it, they would see that it has as much validity as an artistic medium as any other. It is what is DONE with the medium that matters, not the medium itself.
We are all prisoners here. You can’t put a finger on why, you can’t define the cage, but regardless, we are confined, restricted by rules of society, rules of physics. We cannot fly, we cannot run naked among the throngs of a crowded street. We restrict ourselves.
Past times I’ve done a freewrite, a ramble, or really anything like this, I end up talking about Truth, in one fashion or another. Beyond this brief mention here, I’m going to try and not this time. There are other things to talk about. Other things indeed.
Story idea: 30 years before the open of the story, a well respected and intelligent man dies young, leaving no direct descendent. He is buried in a small town in the northeast. 10 years later, what would have been his nephew is born, bearing a striking resemblence in appearance and mannerisms.