Dear William Henry Jackson,

Dear William Henry Jackson,

I am writing to you from the future. Or, perhaps I am writing to you, who are in the past. Either way, you have been dead for some time now, and it seems that we will not be crossing paths in this lifetime.

I, however, find you a very attractive man. I usually do not have a particular attraction towards photographers, but you are one of my exceptions. Plus, you are clearly a man who can both ride a horse, and shoot a gun - two essential traits every real man should have. If you come into the future, we can build us a cabin with our own hands in the middle of some thick, dense earth, way down some dirt road or up on a mountain, and have a vegetable garden and you and I can shoot things dead and we can cook them. It will be heaven. We can take lots of pictures and when we get sick of having too many prints around we can make them into paper airplanes and set them to flight, although I will probably fight to keep a few of yours because I love your work so. I know you like painting, so you can paint a whole bunch, and I can sit outside in the sun and bang on my guitar until I get good at it. We will dance on the grass in our bare feet every day. And I will happily cut that grass every few weeks with a large machete.

I hope you get this message, hop on that horse with that very large weapon of yours and come and rescue me from all of these modern day city boys.

Thank you very much.

Love,

Lisa

This month, I received a grant from the Ruth and Harold Chenven Foundation for my American Folk series. It is an honor to have received this grant.

The foundation was created by Harold Chenven in memory of his wife, Ruth Chenven, a silversmith and jewelry designer. The foundation is presently run by a small group of their family and friends.

So, I would like to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to Ruth and Harold Chenven for giving me support to move forward with this project.



Marmet, WV. November 2011.

"What's In Your Bag?" article by David Carol

A few weeks ago, David called me up and asked me if I would want to participate in this article he was writing. An article, he said, about photographers and their camera bags. And I said, "But - I don't really have a camera bag - I kind of just throw everything in my truck and go." To which David replied, "Perfect!"

So, there I was, in Wharton State Forest, New Jersey, on my way home from West Virginia, pulling all of the relevant contents out of my truck. One by one I laid them all out on my tarp: my camera, lenses, my Bolex and its motor, film holders, wet plate back, tripod, boots, dark cloth, guitar, cable release, light meter, polaroid, fixins for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, extra 16mm reels and my leatherman. Okay, okay, obviously this isn't EVERYTHING that I have in my truck when I go out to work. But, this was a small edit of the items that are most essential that I use most often.



check out the full article by David Carol here.

North Carolina, March 2008

Self portrait with branch

from White Sands, New Mexico
my first road trip out alone, a tumbleweed, age 17.

by Rainer Maria Rilke


Dove that ventured outside, flying far from the dovecote:
housed and protected again, one with the day, the night,
knows what serenity is, for she has felt her wings
pass through all distance and fear in the course of her wanderings.

The doves that remained at home, never exposed to loss,
innocent and secure, cannot know tenderness;
only the won-back heart can ever be satisfied: free,
through all it has given up, to rejoice in its mastery.

Being arches itself over the vast abyss.
Ah the ball that we dared, that we hurled into infinite space,
doesn’t it fill our hands differently with its return:
heavier by the weight of where it has been.

Danielsville Hardware

I just love the hell out of getting things in the mail.

Especially artwork.

This past June, I took a picture of the Danielsville Hardware store in Danielsville, GA for Steve, the owner. If you are ever in town, I highly recommend shopping at the store. They have quite the selection of old and new, and some things you wouldn't expect to find in a hardware store. Vintage cameras, old sunglasses, party dresses, antique furs - you name it, it's probably there. I could have spent a week piddling around in there.

The other day, I received this great piece of mail - Matthew Brogdon, who I met whilst doing the tintype, sketched my tintype and sent it to me. Below you will see the original tintype, followed by the sketch that Matthew did. Thank you, Matthew!



Danielsville Hardware, Danielsville, GA, June 2012


Danielsville Hardware Sketch by Matthew D Brogdon