My visual, audio and literary stuff is free here, but my hold-in-your-hands books, prints, and CDs cost real money. If you want to buy something tactile from me, contact me at stujenks at gmail dot com, or message me on Facebook. If you simply want to look and read for free, that's fine too, but don't hesitate to send me your sofa change. My snail mail address is P.O. Box 161, Tucson, Arizona 85702. Keep those cards and letters coming. And sofa change too. Love and light, Stu.
Heading out tonight to shoot, equipped with battery-powered Christmas lights and with my grandmother Nannie's mirror. Wish me luck. I always go with some plan, that I tend to throw away once I'm in the space. Hope plan B works out, but you never know. I have high standards for my stock photography work. If it's crap, you won't see it here.
Also, I'll be talking more about politics on my blog.
One of the unspoken rules of being a working artist or musician or writer, who isn't rich to begin with, is to not to speak your political mind because a good 1/3 of our customers are conservative folk, that we don't want to insult, so they don't then buy our work. Well, screw that. There is too much going on in 2016 for me to keep quiet any longer.
Arizona is in play this election. Polls show Thump is only up by four points in Arizona, a Republican Goldwater state, mind you. Senator McCain might lose his re-election bid to a very competent Democratic woman. And a narcissistic businessman with orange hair wants to be the king of America.
No matter what any of the talking heads on TV says, there are really no undecided voters out there. It's all about turnout. If progressive people of colors, forward-thinking women, hopeful young people, and liberal and moderate white folk don't show up at the polls in November, Donald Trump just might win. If however we show up in force, it will be a landslide of biblical proportion. Ann Kirkpatrick will send John McCain back to Sedona, and we might actually get the U.S. Senate back in Democratic hands. (Sadly, due to gerrymandering, the U.S. House is pretty hopeless, but who knows. Maybe.)
So vote, ye moderates and liberals. The other side, those conservative white folks out there? They will show up, no matter how much they dislike Trump. They will vote for him. We need to vote for our side.
And if you hate or distrust Hillary Clinton and are a progressive, you need to get over that, hold your nose, and think of the greater good.
Three words, people.
The Supreme Court.
I frankly don't want to see one of the guys from Duck Dynasty on the Court. Or freaking Chris Christie either. Abortion needs to stay legal, Obamacare need to not be overturned, and voting rights needs to be restored, just to name a few important issues.
Politics may be athletics for ugly people, but policies matter. Laws matter. The Social Contract matters.
So here endeth my political message for today. If you disagree with me, fine. Just don't be a jerk and type troll shit back to me. It's not polite.
Wish me luck tonight. Hopefully I'll get some good images that I can make a little coin with, and that will make y'all smile.
I'll listen to what the land and the sky says to me, and I'll bring those voices back home.
"Wistman's Wood, Dartmoor, United Kingdom" (c) 2013 Stu Jenks
I used to like Halloween as a child, with its Baby Ruth candies, its neighborhood spookiness and it being my mother's birthday too, but I haven't liked the holiday for years. I'm not a big fan that in America many adults use the holiday as an opportunity to express their sexual darkness, or their romanticism of Death, or their drunken angry inner selves. That being said, I do like the reverence of the Christian All Souls' Day, All Saints' Day and the resurgence of The Day Of The Dead celebrations, with personal altars displaying photographs of loved ones gone, and orange marigolds on graves newly cleaned.
I'll be walking in the All Souls' Procession in Tucson this Sunday, but I'm planning a more personal observance this weekend, of this time of the year when the veil between worlds is thin. Next year, I hope to be near Lively, Virginia, sitting on a bench in my family plot on November 1st, small candles burning near the headstones of my mother, father and sister.
Above is a photograph I took of Wistman's Wood last Spring when I was visiting friends in Chagford, Dartmoor. One of the oldest remaining oak wood in all of the UK, beautifully dwarfed by time and wind, Wistman's Wood truly is a sacred place, being its own gateway between earth and sky.
I wish I was there right this second, holding a photo of my family in one hand and a bunch of marigolds in the other. Or if not there, sitting on a marble bench in the Northern Neck of Virginia.
"Scorhill Stone In Thick Deep Mist, Dartmoor, UK" & "Gidleigh Wood Folly, Dartmoor, UK" (c) 2013 Stu Jenks
read Shelagh's map. I thought I knew the way to Scorhill Circle. I did
not. I got lost in Gidleigh Wood. Or rather, as Daniel Boone once said,
"I've never been lost but I've been a might bewildered." That I was.
Yet sometimes when I get lost, I find wonders. I found a folly that evening, a
Victorian building built for no particular use other than to employ the
manor's workers. I asked around. Oddly, no one except one person knew
of this folly. It seemed I wandered onto private land. Oops. One person
said if was where two mad sisters lived a hundred years ago who only
ate snails. The Snail Sisters. OK.
I retraced my steps and
eventually found my way to the Scorhill Circle. Socked in deep mist,
long exposure night photography was out for the mist coated my lens.
Disappointed? Only a little. I sat on a nearby fall stone, had a smoke,
and prayed in the dimming light and the thick damp mist. It was a very
good walk in spite of a very large little toe blister I produced that hobbled me the rest of the trip. It was worth it.
In Tucson again. Wind blowing hard. I love the wind. But I'd be lying if I didn't say I long for mist. Thick deep mist.
Some people leave their hearts in San Francisco. I left a part of mine
in Dartmoor. I may have to return to get that piece back or leave more heart there. I haven't decided yet. Leaning toward the latter.