The News from Stu Jenks (http://www.stujenks.com) & Fezziwig Press (http://www.fezziwigpressonline.com).
Nocturnal, Daylight, Toy, Infrared, Portrait, Sport & Nature Photography; News Of The Road & Of The Land; Stories Of Family, Spirit & The-World-At-Large.
(Contact Stu Jenks via email at stujenks at gmail dot com to purchase prints, books, CDs, & image, story and music rights.)
Image: "Queen Esther Baptist Church, Lancaster, Virginia" (c) 2011 Stu Jenks (Just down River Road from Victoria's house. Love that luscious red carpet. And for you nocturnals out there, it was handheld. Rare for me.)
In this time of making photos on iPhones and Macbook Pros and only looking on screens, I forget I'm a old-school guy. I make a 8 1/2 x 11 work print on archival paper of EVERY image I make. EVERY one. It's the only way, for me, to accurately check for color shift, density, composition, etc. I really like my iPad screen but it's no way to make a good print.
And I have hundreds, if not thousands, of work prints artist proofs at my studio.
If you see an image of mine on The StuBlog or on my old website or on the Fezziwig Press Store or in any of my books, there's a beautiful small print in a box somewhere, perhaps with your name on it. And since I'm organized, I can find it.
Many of you can't afford my larger prints. I understand. I don't have an extra 50 or 100 lying around either. But I do have an extra $20 for stuff I really like.
So if you see an image of mine on any of my sites or in any of my books and you want it, it's yours for $25, shipping, handling and tax included. (I believe in paying taxes, sales and otherwise.)
Just email me at my facebook page or through the StuBlog or at firstname.lastname@example.org, and tell me what print you would like or just pull the jpeg and send that to me.
I was just watching the Tarhells lose today in basketball, working on images at my computer when I thought, 'I bet people don't realize I have boxes of work prints here.'
You all do now.
Love and light,
p.s. Ignore the catagories belows. The computer went wacky. Another reason why I prefer a print in the hand as opposed to an image in The Cloud.
Been a long time coming for The Transpersonal Papers (1861-2010).
Three editors, two proofreaders, two designers, four printers, and hours, days, weeks, months, years, lifetimes, (I know I'm overstating), of writing, traveling, shooting, editing, remembering, hiking, and more writing, shooting, and editing, but I'm not complaining. No, no, no.
And apologies for not having the dough right now, to print The Transpersonal Papers as a coffee-table book as I had originally planned. ($10,000, it would have cost. Maybe someday.) But you now can buy it, for $14.95, as an Ebook on the Apple IPad, and I expect it to be available within a couple days on the Nook and the Kindle as well.
I just looked at it on my new IPad. The photos, text and design look grand.
And as an extra surprise, Bozo In Love is now up on IBooks too, ($9.95), as well as the rest of my catalog: Flame Spirals, Hoop Dancing, and Dementia Blues, on IBooks, Nook and Kindle.
Just in time for Christmas.
And don't worry. All but The Transpersonal Papers can still be bought as a book book through Fezziwig Press. I have plenty. Just go to www.fezziwigpressonline.com, for the hardbounds and paperbacks, but go to ITunes, today, (and Kindle and Nook, soon) for the ebooks.
Heavy sigh from my third story apartment balcony. I look out onto the Tucson city lights in the valley below. Cold, dry air embraces me. I inhale deeply. Exhale.
A very good night in the desert.
Think I'll make a cup of coffee with egg nog and play some Angry Birds on my new IPad.
"The Big Spiral near Sibyl, Arizona" (c) 2011 Stu Jenks
I went back yesterday, reshoot and redrew this spiral. The largest spiral I've ever drawn, over 25 feet wide. It was actually very hard work, carving into the wash. I was out of breath more than once, pushing that big Mesquite stick into the ground.
Some of the lines are a bit lumpy but no matter. Life is lumpy and imperfect at times. Scars and lumps show we have lived.
The sand was wonderful as was the locale. That's Cochise Stronghold and The Dragoon Mountains in the distance.
Fun Fact: It's quite difficult to find a wash in Southern Arizona that hasn't been disturbed by ATVs and other traffic. This unnamed wash near the railroad crossing of Sibyl was smooth, level, soft and serene. Like going back in time, when Apaches rode these hills.
And my thoughts yesterday were that life's spiral is very long for many of us, through our birth, childhood, adulthood, middle age, old age and death. A very long path we each take, yet some people's spirals are not as wide or as long or as full of lumps and scars: Infants who die in their first few days, a tiny little spiral; teenagers killed in car crashes or in wars, a pretty small spiral; adults killed in tornados or who just dropped dead, a good size spiral but not huge. And my sister who'll probably be dead from cancer before Christmas at the age of 63. She has a good size spiral now but it could be bigger, and it definitely could have a great deal more lumps and scars in it.
No one, except perhaps my sister, will say she lived a full life. No one.
I feel angry and sad sometimes, that my mother and father did such a number on my sister, that she's spent most of her life alone, living in our old house on Amherst rent-free, with no job, very little money, few friends, a dog or two over the years, watching TV, doing cross-stitch, getting drunk, going to church on Sundays and hardly talking to any one.
So the spiral I drew yesterday became big, wide, lumpy, and alone, hidden in a anonymous wash in the Sonoran Desert.
A spiral for my sister. A spiral for me. A spiral for all of us, I suppose.
And don't worry. Pamela will never read this post. I offered to buy her a small laptop last year but she refused, and I don't know the last time she went to a library to view a computer.
So say a prayer for her, as she sits alone, in a big old house, in pain, on meds, waiting for death to come.
She does believe in God and The Life Everlasting. At least she's not completely alone.