Fezziwig Press & Photography by Stu Jenks

From The 2009 All Souls' Procession

From The 2009 All Souls' Procession, Tucson, Arizona (c) 2009 Stu Jenks

[All images by Stu Jenks, except the bottom one of me in a kilt, taken by Tom Willett]

 

"I...Don't...Know...What..."

 

"I...Don't...Know...What..." (c) 2009 Stu Jenks

    Mary’s come back to us a bit. Not all the way from where she was a month ago, but enough that she can speak some. She still gets lost in her words, but on occasion, a fully-formed sentence will appear out of nowhere. It’s shocking and delightful, all at the same time. It happened tonight.
    I show Mom the back of my Canon 5D Mark II.
    “I like this shot,” I say.
    “I don’t,” says Mary.
    “Really? How come?”
    “I look ugly,” she says. I think she looks peaceful, kind, pretty, but I’m not making the artistic decisions tonight.
    “I think you look great, but I won’t use that one. How about this one?”
    It’s a shot of her looking up from her wheelchair at the nice hospice worker this morning. It’s a OK shot. Looks a little out of focus. Not great, but OK, if you ask me.
    “I like that,” she says, with a bit of exuberance to her voice. You may not call it exuberance if you didn’t know Mary Jenks, but a slight rise in his faint voice means she’s  quite excited and thrilled.
    “Really?” I look again at the shot. She does look awfully sweet.
    “OK, Mom. I’ll use that one. By the way, I’ve been writing about you and I, and I’m putting pictures of you and such on my weblog, and I’ve got more hits on my blog, than I ever have before.”
    “Is that right?” she says.
    “Yea. People really care about you, Mom.”
    She has this look I’ve never seen on her face until she got sick, but I’ve seen it a lot in the last couple months. A look of being humbly touched by the love of others. No expectations. No demands. Just touched by the Love.
    “I’m going to write about something you said yesterday, and put it on my blog.”
    “What’s that?” say Mary.
    “Well, yesterday morning as I was getting ready to leave, you said very slowly ‘I don’t know how...” and you had a hard time finishing the sentence. I said, ‘You don’t know how to die?’ You said, ‘No, no, no...’ and started over. You said, ‘I don’t know what...’ and then I knew what you meant. I said, ‘You don’t know what you would do without me?’ And you smiled and said yes.”
    The smile tonight wasn’t as big as the one yesterday, but it was a very lovely smile, nonetheless.
    “And then, later in the day, I called C____ , and while we were talking, I told her the story and, out of the blue, she said, ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you either.’ It made my day, Mom.”
    We’re both smiling now.
    It’s great to have Mary back, even if just for a little while: Able to listen, able to respond, able to talk just a little. More times than not, she can’t get the words out but tonight, she’s doing pretty good.
    We talk about this and that. Some sad stuff, but mostly it’s light and breezy. Then I hear my mother use a word I’ve never heard her say before. In my life.
    “Stu...What...I...want......What...I...want....”
    She gives a heavy sigh. She really wants to get this out.
    “What...I...want....is....is...a highball.”
    “A highball?”
    “Yes.”
    “Like a glass of Scotch?”
    “Yes.” She looks hopeful.
    “Well, I don’t know. I know you’ve had wine in the past here. I don’t know if you can have Scotch, but I’ll ask. Would a glass of wine in a sippy cup do?”
    She rolls her eyes, as if saying ‘If I have to have wine, I’ll drink wine, but what I really want is some Scotch.’
    “Mom, I’ll ask Jessica.” I don’t know if hard liquor is on the OK list, but I sure hope so.
    We talk a little more. Mary’s starting to wear out. It doesn’t take long these days.
    “I’m going to go, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Then suddenly, out of her mouth, comes a perfectly formed, perfectly articulated sentence.
    “Stu, do you ever get scared?”
    I pause. I’m taken aback, not by the question, but by how clearly she spoke it.
    “Yea, I get scared,” I say.
    “What do you get scared of?” she asks with perfect diction.
    I think. I know right away.
    “I’m scared of being alone,” I say.
    “Me too.” The light in her eyes says, ‘I’m not alone, thank God.’
    I kiss her goodnight, tell her I love her, and head out to the kitchen to talk with Jessica about the High Ball Request.
    “I’ll give it to her, if you go buy it.”
    “Really? You’d do that?”
    “Sure. It’ll help her sleep.”
    I’m surprised that my eyes mist up so fast, but they do. I’m overtaken by unexpected joy.
    “Thanks, Jessica. I’ll go get her pint of Scotch tomorrow or the next day.”
    As I get in my truck and drive away, the joy doesn’t subside. I call a friend or two or three and tell them about the High Ball Request. One is worried about me buying it. One laughs at the irony. Another is helpful in telling me where the liquor stores are, (For I’m completely out of the loop these days, having not drunk any alcohol in almost 25 years. I was a big Scotch drinker myself, back in the day. Most of us Jenks’ are Scotch drinkers. No bourbon or gin for us. Give us Scotch, single malt, cheap, expensive. We don’t care.)
    I’m home in my apartment. It’s getting late. Tomorrow’s my birthday. A big box with an unopened “Heritage of Scotland” kilt inside sits under my Christmas stick, ready to be opened tomorrow morning. I’m having breakfast with a friend, then helping another friend with a problem in the afternoon. But somewhere, in between all of that, I’m going to a liquor store and buy my mother a fifth of Dewer’s Scotch. I’ll try not to cry at the counter. I know I’ll cry on the drive up to her house.
                            -11:22 p.m., November. 5th, 2009

"Beaufort, South Carolina" by Robert Frank

"Beaufort, South Carolina, 1955" (detail) by Robert Frank

[Taken by me at the MOCA in Downtown Los Angeles in September. I had permission. Sadly, the images from "The Americans" series were very poorly lit, not like the same images I saw in August, at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. There, they were exquisitely lit. This, and others in the series are perfect photographs: The woman's radiant face, the sun behind her, the light pole that echos the Cross. Perfect. Other memories from MOCA: LA that day, were a class of tweens taking a tour of the museum and having their teacher or a docent tell them that the poorly-crafted, arrogant, nightmares-on-a-wall they were seeing, were actually good paintings. The look on the kids' faces was priceless. Remember, it was a child who told the townspeople that the Emperor had no clothes on. Sadly, the schoolkids weren't in the room with "The Americans." I bet they would have looks of awe on their faces, not wrinkled-up noses. Hopefully they got to see them before they left.]

"When people look at my pictures I want them to feel the way they do when they want to read a line of a poem twice." - Robert Frank.

"Infrared Bozo at 'I Love Teryyake & Sushi' "

 

"Infrared Bozo at 'I Love Teryyaki & Sushi', San Francisco, California" (c) 2009 Stu Jenks

"Mary's Dream"

“Mary’s Dream”
Summer, 2009

    “Last night I had a dream.”
    It’s taken her about twenty seconds to say those six words. The dementia is now effecting her speech. She hasn’t been able to stand, much less walk. for months. She can’t hold a fork and she needs help to go to the bathroom now. Half the time, she just does in her Depends. But the caregivers at Crossroads love her and take great care of her, and she’s very happy with them and the place, however...
    “Last night I had a dream,” Mom says again.
    “I dreamed I was dying...and then I woke up... and I was so disappointed.”
    She smiles weakly at me. I smile back.
    “I know Mom,” I say, “I hope you’ll die soon, too.”

"Twelfth Night: 2009"

Happy Epiphany, Twelfth Night, y'all.

These two pictures were taken near my bedroom window with the PhotoBooth attachment atop my new/old MacBook Pro. So weird. You don't even need a camera to take a arty photograph anymore. The computer does it for you. No matter. It is what it is. And you are reading a post by an old guy photog, who took a fifty-year-old Kodak Brownie, loaded with black-and-white film made in Croatia, to the top of high desert fault, on New Year's Day. I'll get the negs back tomorrow.

And may the Wise Guys show up at your door tonight, with money, incense and perfume. And a big piece of double chocolate cake.

"Karim Rashid Sultan Khan" by Platon

[From News.Spreadit.org]

Karim Rashid Sultan Khan:Colin Powell Meet The Press - Karim Rashid Sultan Khan who was a 20 year old Muslim American soldier born in New Jersey who was killed while fighting in the Iraq war was mentioned by Colin Powell on NBC’s “Meet the Press” earlier today.

Here are Colin Powell’s exact words.

"I feel strongly about this particular point because of a picture I saw in a magazine. It was a photo essay about troops who are serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.

And one picture at the tail end of this photo essay was of a mother in Arlington Cemetery, and she had her head on the headstone of her son’s grave. And as the picture focused in, you could see the writing on the headstone. And it gave his awards — Purple Heart, Bronze Star — showed that he died in Iraq, gave his date of birth, date of death. He was 20 years old.

And then, at the very top of the headstone, it didn’t have a Christian cross; it didn’t have the Star of David; it had crescent and a star of the Islamic faith. And his name was Kareem Rashad Sultan Khan, and he was an American. He was born in New Jersey. He was 14 years old at the time of 9/11, and he waited until he can go serve his country, and he gave his life.

Now, we have got to stop polarizing ourselves in this way. And John McCain is as nondiscriminatory as anyone I know. But I’m troubled about the fact that, within the party, we have these kinds of expressions."

This picture of Kareem Rashad Sultan Khan’s mother Elsheba Khan, was taken by Platon for the New Yorker.

[One of the most moving photographs taken regarding this crazy war by the amazing photog Platon. And it was so refreshing to hear Colin Powell tell the truth. Seems the truth is the first casualty of war...and an ongoing casualty in presidental politics, as well. - S.J.]

"Self Portrait with Light Lasso"

"Self Portrait with Light Lasso, Pontatoc Trail, Tucson, Arizona" (c) 2008 Stu Jenks

[Was dumping some images from IPhoto on my Mac this morning, when I found this photo. It was a failed photograph, in which, on a Full Moon night, I was working with some new Light Lassos I had made. I got a good shot from that session, that image being "See God, Kai", but this photograph, as a whole, didn't work at all. Then I saw a very small section of the image and was struck by how nice my face looked and how it showed the emotion of my intent, when I'm out shooting at night. So I cropped it out of the bigger digital neg, desaturated it and here it is; a nice image of my spirit, while it's traipsing around the desert on Lunar nights with camera and gear.]

"Nine Prayers": The Hotel Congress Show (c) 2008

"Nine Prayers": The Hotel Congress Show (c) 2008 Stu Jenks

    Hours after I got back in the Art Game last Saturday, I was offered to do a one-man show in the lobby of the Hotel Congress. I was excited. The Hotel Congress, for those of you outside of the area, is this wonderful old hotel downtown, where John Dillinger was arrested, where many a great band has played in its club, where the best breakfast in town is served, where love has been found, lost, and found again, and where some of the best visual artists in Tucson have displayed their work. (I’ve often said that the spiritual and artistic center of Tucson is the front desk of the Hotel Congress, when Al Perry is manning the phones.) A very great honor to be asked to show work there. A very big deal.
    With the help of many in the past couple days, I edited and organized the show, picking just nine images, Nine Prayers. It would be a show of large prints, framed and matted, printed on the finest photographic paper. I would be economical but not cheap. It would be a greatest-hits show in some ways, a show of recent work in others, but a show with a underlining theme, that being ‘The little prayers I say when I shoot.’
    Then I crunched the numbers and crunched them again. Only one of the nine images did I already have printed and framed large. The remaining eight need to be made and made big. And the numbers were very large too, at least for me.
    The eight prints, finely framed and matted, would cost me close to $2500.00. Ouch. I don't have that kind of money. But I'm selling the work for a reasonable and fair price, so I thought I'd probably sell two or maybe three pieces and come close to breaking even. Then I figured in the percentage that the Hotel and the gallery would take from sales (50% off the top), and I became very depressed. In order that I don’t feel like I’m ripping myself off, I need to get at least $850 per framed, and matted print. These being large Fine Art Limited Edition prints, this was doable. But double that, pricing them at $1700 and we are way outside of what the market in Tucson will usually. Damn. I obsessed about this for a day and then I realized I don’t think I can do this. I can’t take a $2,500 risk on eight photographs. I’m still in debt up to my eyeballs as it is .(See “Argument Against Photography” on this blog.) I was disheartened. I emailed David Aguirre at Dinnerware and said I just can’t do it.
    I just got off the phone with David, and he is so inspiring, so understanding, so encouraging, so evil. We both realize that this show could be a very big deal for me, to show my best work, in one of the premier venues for showing Art in Tucson. I’m now reconsidering. I’m going to sleep on it for another night or two.
    But while I’m sleeping, I thought, why not have a virtual show on my blog of the show and maybe, just maybe, I might make a sale or two.
    Here’s the deal on how I print for big shows. I print two prints of each image at Photographic Works, the best lab in town. I print two because the first one costs a lot but the second print is cheaper, therefore if (and when) I sell one photograph, I have the other one to sell as well.
    So, friends and neighbors, here’s the deal.
    I’m not begging but if someone buys a large non-framed, non-matted kick-ass Fine Art photograph, you will be contributing to me, to be able to afford to do this show. (And to the couple who just bought the Ikon, thanks so much and you know who you are.)
    Below are the nine images that will go the “Nine Prayers” show. They are for sale. Prices, sizes, edition numbers, jpegs and type of photographs are all below. If you would like an unframed, unmatted, beautiful image to arrive at your door, in a nice sturdy tube, just email me at stujenks@gmail.com or write me at P.O. Box 161, Tucson, AZ 85702. You can pay me by personal check or by using Paypal (My account name is my email address.) And maybe, just maybe, if I sell a few prints, then I’ll be able to afford to do the Hotel Congress show and break even.
    (Actually after David’s inspiring phone call from a few minutes ago, I’ll probably slam my plastic anyway, but you know what I’m asking for. Just some help if you can afford it. No expectation but some hope.)
    Either way, enjoy the digital show below and know that I appreciate y’all’s support, whether it comes in purchases, or in kind emails, or in deep hugs. Without an audience, I’m just a bozo in a basement. With you, I’m having a one-man-show at the Hotel Congress.

        Love and light,
            Stu

Nine Prayers by Stu Jenks



"The Ikon of Catalina State Park, Arizona" © 1997, 2008, Edition of 10, Fuji Crystal Archive Print, 22” x 22” image on 24” x 30” paper, $600

"I pray the flame spiral I draw tonight is better than the one I drew last night."

"Laxmii's Flight, Flam Chen, Avra Valley, Arizona" © 2007, Edition of 10, Fuji Crystal Archive Print, 22” x 34” image on 24” x 36” paper, $650

"I pray I finally get a good shot of Flam Chen after shooting them for all these years."

"Cedar Breaks Star Circle, Utah" © 2006, 2007, Edition of 10, Kodak Metallic Paper, 28” x 28” image on 30” x 40” paper, $750

"I pray I wake up before the dawn."

"Ghost Horses, Coalmine Canyon, Arizona" © 2002, 2008, Edition of 10, Kodak Metallic Paper, 22” x 24” image on 24” x 30” paper, $700

"I pray I don't fall off the edge of this cliff."

"Tumamoc Hill, Tucson, Arizona" © 2007, Edition of 10, Kodak Metallic Paper, 22” x 24” image on 24” x 30” paper, $700

"I pray that we have a good Christmas."

"Mary at the Cadillac Ranch, Amarillo, Texas" © 2008, Edition of 10, Fuji Crystal Archive Print, 21” x 33” image on 24” x 36” paper, $650.

"I pray I get my mother across the country, in one piece."

"The Doe and Flo Show, Tucson Roller Derby, Arizona" © 2007, Edition of 10, Fuji Crystal Archive Print, 22” x 34” image on 24” x 36” paper, $650

"I pray I get some good shots for the girls tonight, even with this slow lens."

"Cows near the Clava Cairns, Scotland" © 2007, Edition of 10, Fuji Crystal Archive Print, 22” x 25” image on 24” x 30” paper, $600

"I pray that bull doesn't get mad at me, when he finds out I don't have any food."

"Abajo Mountain Hoop Dance, Utah" © 2003, 2005, Edition of 10, $600, Fuji Crystal Archive Print, 22” x 22” image on 24” x 30” paper.

"I pray I leave the shutter open long enough so the Full Moon has time to do its job."

"New York Dolls by the band Feed" (c) 2007

"Feed as New York Dolls, Hotel Congress, Tucson, Arizona" (c) 2007 Stu Jenks

[Topic Image: New York Dolls performed by Feed, December 7, 2007 at Club Congress. Charity concert to benefit the Tucson Artists and Musicians Health
Alliance.]

[From Front to Back; Krista Khrome as David Johansen, Geoff Notkin as Arthur Kane, Emerson Lyle as Johnny Thunders, Lance Saxerud as Jerry Nolan &
Sean Smith as Sylvain Sylvain]

[Bottom Two Images: "Geoff as Rock God", "Flying V as Rock God's Bass". All Images (c) 2007 Stu Jenks