Papageorge & Dea

Alec is hosting Papageorge Week on his blog in recognition of Tod Papageorge's new book - Passing Through Eden. so in honor of PapaWeek i'll jump on the bandwagon with the following photo- found yesterday, here in Rochester.



other, more important, non-photography news - Dea is doing well. she's finishing up her dialysis treatment as i type this, and we'll be heading back to Chicago in the next hour or so. i catch the red-eye out of O'Hare tomorrow night- back into Fairbanks on Friday. Dea's staying with her parents for a few weeks, to be closer to Mayo should she have complications with her recovery, and to (very optimistically speaking) save another expensive flight from AK in the event that we can reschedule her transplant sooner, rather than later.

reflections and dea

dea's doing well. eating, walking, laughing, and generally her old self. she has dialysis scheduled for tomorrow, and then we'll get out of here. Chicago bound tomorrow night.


between the hospital and the coffee shop

Dea

Dea's surgery went as well as could be expected today. she's working the morphine drip fairly hard, but feeling good about how things are going. she has dialysis in the morning, and i would imagine the pain will begin to be a little greater tomorrow, but the immediate situation is looking positive.

the new transplant scenario won't play out for several weeks, but the important thing now is recovery.

thanks, again, to all who have emailed and left comments of good spirit - we appreciate it all.

i can't say enough 'thank you' - this virtual world is astounding at times.


i'm lurking around town, and the hospital, a bit and will post some images in time as well.

the 4th

the view from our hotel room tonight- Rochester knows how to put on a show.

Dea has surgery tomorrow at 7:00am. i'll update as we have news to share.

ak > il > wi > mn

sitting in our hotel room in Rochester. Dea arrived safely last night, after a long day of flying after dialysis. we're anxious to see the doctors this morning, and begin to get some answers.

off to get some coffee, but in the meantime - a couple images from the last two days of travel:


the city - Chicago


the country - the banks of the Mississippi River, Minnesota

Dea

Dea can't seem to catch a break. first, a schedule change for her transplant because of an infection, in which time we had her dialysis catheter replaced. now, on the verge of the second transplant date we're told the infection isn't better, but worse, than originally thought.

long story short, she's scheduled to have her rejected kidney removed on thursday at Mayo, as the doctors believe this is the source of her infection. at this point the transplant is postponed indefinitely.

i'll be leaving for Chicago late tomorrow night and driving her parent's car from there to Rochester. Dea's flying into Rochester on monday. getting flights in, and out, of Alaska in the summer is a frustrating task.

all for now. i'll post from Minnesota.


6/28/07, Dea sleeping in the midnight sun

Chicago

Brain Ulrich has posted, in the past, about his teachers. Brian isn't one to shy away from accolades for great Chicago photographers. he holds the city, it's history, and the photographers, now and past, with great affection. recently he posted about his respect for Paul D'Amato, along with hysterical anecdotes of time spent.

I've always liked D'Amato's portraits, and Barrio especially. i'm anxious to get my hands on a copy of his new book. in addition to the images for Barrio, on his site, he has excerpts from his journal during 1989-2002. his words should be required reading for any photographer struggling to get inside a project.

from "the 90's":
" i just want to be looking at things that knock me out, instead of trying to figure out how to make something that is thinly interesting into a good picture. I want to be in situations that get my blood going and make me forget everything else, situations in which I have to choose quickly between a number of ways this can look in a photograph. My imagination goes wild and it’s as if I see all the possibilities at once."

- link to an interview on Chicago Public Radio can be heard here (also linked with other media on the left column).

Also, through Todd Deutsch's blog, a must see show at MoCP - Relative Closeness.

in other, unrelated, Chicago news- Dea received bad news about her transplant. she's been struggling with an infection recently, and the team at Mayo has called off the surgery until we can get it cleared up. we're headed to Anchorage Monday to have her dialysis catheter replaced, and will shoot for a reschedule in July of August.

thanks to everyone for their concern, emails, and the like.

more photography to come. projects, other photographers, news, and random ramblings coming soon.

listening to The Rolling Stones.

ALASKA

it seems that i always reflect in the days leading up to a trip- typically thinking about the time spent between the last trip outside. i'm pained to say that i've been thinking more lately than acting on said thoughts- a sort of self imposed paralysis of growth. i haven't been seeing clearly or shooting clearly.

better things are ahead.

the prospect of Dea getting well, and able to enjoy Alaska again makes me happy. being here has been a struggle for her the past several months. of course, she wouldn't have it any other way. but, we've always said that if it ever became dangerous for her to live here, or more realistically too expensive, we would leave. we would just pack our things and go. with great regret, but certain in our direction, we would just go.

the thought of leaving left me empty today. too many photos to make, and things to see. i've taken too much for granted. my photography, my voice, is begging to be taken a new direction, but i've been holding back. upon our return, it's time to let it ride. now or never.

an image from last summer:


fog rolling atop Pinnell Mtn. July 2006, 1:00am

listening to Afghan Whigs

Dea & Beaufort

5.23.07

listening to Jeff Buckley

the Indian Cabbie

flights are booked, and hotel reservations are made for Rochester. we're taking the red eye from Fairbanks to Chicago on the 11th/12th. Dea's studying, so i wandered downtown to watch the tourists. nothing like watching the Texans walk around our struggling downtown, muttering to each other "where's alaska"?

i often forget that i look like a tourist myself this time of year. i asked Jim if i could take his photo, and he gave me a glare and said "i'm an Indian, but i ain't no Eskimo. no"



"no worries" i said, and sat down next to him in the shade.
he broke the silence and asked, "where you from?"
"here, i live just down the road"
"oh, i thought you were one of them" he said as he gesticulated toward the white sock and sandal brigade. "you work for the Miner?"
"no"
"who you work for?"
"myself. i'm doing a book on Fairbanks. a book on downtown"
he let the idea simmer for a while, and asked "a book? for them or for us?"
"for us."
"good"

and with that a friendship was made. i spent a good hour with Jim, watching the tourists and talking about Alaska history. he's owned a local cab business since '75. the locals, and his friends, call him the Indian Cabbie.

we spoke about the first fire of the season burning to the South, and how the smoke that will engulf the town in a few days is unfortunate. he spoke of the '60s- when there was a fire anywhere in the state the fire chief would come down to 2nd Ave, stand on the back of his truck, and yell "who wants to fight the fire?". he'd ask "are you drunk?". if you said "no", then you were in. you didn't know where you were going, and for how long, but you would get fed and paid.

i asked him when he first moved to Alaska.
"1967"
"have you lived here all this time?"
"yah. i thought i'd have to leave, for good, back in the 80's though. had cancer in one of my kidneys. i had to go to the outside to have it taken out"
"really? did you have to have a transplant?
"nope. they just pulled 'er out. you don't need them both. you can live on just one. you know that?"
"yep" i said, "i've heard that"


thanks Jim

listening to Sparklehorse

the Great Midwestern Kidney Swap is a GO!

we received unbelievable news today - Patrick is in fact a match. he and Dea will transplant at Mayo on the 18th of June.

we'll fly into Minneapolis, or Chicago, on the 12th. we're both stunned, and of course relived. i feel so much lighter today. Patrick and Dea are both very mellow, pensive maybe, but anxious to get things started. this is a huge deal - a future for Dea, and an astonishingly selfless act by Patrick. how do you begin to say thanks for such an act of friendship?

so, i'm not the donor, neither is my dad. we had hoped it would be me, i had hoped it would be me. but, Patrick has enabled us to move on. Dea is getting what she needs - everything else pales.

so what is my role in all of this? i guess to talk about it. make photos. be there for her every minute, and move forward.

there has been, coincidentally, a lot of talk this week in the blogoworld about the need for a blog. what purpose does it serve? is it necessary, and if so for whom? the reader or the writer? i don't know for sure, but i do know that the tract of this space will change a bit for the next couple of months.

Dea and Nobel - 3/28/07

listening to Hurricane Lamps

Dea

i've posted here before about my wife, and her need for a kidney transplant. getting too personal in a medium like this is a slippery slope, but i think the best comes from forums like this if we can approach them with honesty and candor.

blogging is a strange beast, in that many of the readers here i don't know. i've made friends though through this format, again many of which i've never met in person, but friends none the less. so, with that from time to time i'll get a little personal.

i'm in the initial stages of forming a means of documenting some of what my wife goes through on a regular basis. although, by many people's standards she is doing quite well day to day, she struggles. the weight of uncertainty alone is often too heavy, but i'm constantly surprised at how strong she is.

i've struggled, to a much lesser extent of course, myself with the question of how to document what she is going through, and more importantly her transplant. i get hung up with seeing something that is so close, and how to isolate things.

the plan all along has been for me to give one of my kidneys to Dea. a trip to the Mayo clinic in Minnesota in January confirmed that this is no longer an option. we have a bad antibody/antigen cross match. waiting on news about blood tests by friends and family has been torture, and with each bit of hope there has been an equal bit of let down- until recently. we're unbelievably fortunate to have my father step forward. he has proved to be a better match than any of us had hoped for. we'll know more next month, but for now he is our savior in waiting.

so, why am i dumping all of this here now for random folks to peer into my personal life? that's a good question, and one that i don't have a black and white answer for. the impetus for this blog was born from my wife's illness, and that initial honesty felt right. but, more so i think my need to write this now, today, is born too out of selfishness. much of my understanding of the world around me evolves from viewing it through the viewfinder. i struggle sometimes with getting close enough, i sometimes have to fight my tendency to step away. i'm not able to step away from this. i don't want to. in order to articulate with photos my wife's struggle i need to get closer. so, in a way this blog serves as a record- a way of holding myself to task.

all for now, but more images to follow.


Dea 3/21/07

home

27 below zero this morning. i'm a little fixated with the weather lately. Dea and i bought our tickets this weekend for our tour of the greater upper Midwest are over the holidays. Chicago, Le Cliare, the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, and a few dialysis clinics thrown in just for fun. we're anxious to get home to see our families, and meet the team at Mayo.

the change of scenery will be a good jolt a well. i'm anxious to breath in the Midwest landscape, the Mississippi, the city..

Anchorage bound....again

dea and i are making another emergency trip to Anchorage this morning. her subclavian shunt that is used for her dialysis treatments is infected.

i've bounced back and forth since dea first became sick about how, if at all, i would talk about her kidney failure on this blog. our scare in Seattle last January was the catalyst for this blog in the first place. our reality is one of uncertainty, hospitals, and the complications of living off the grid in Alaska. but, more importantly, our reality is one of strength in family and friends. and for me- photography. it keeps me sane.

our journey for a transplant will ultimately take us to Minnesota in a few months, interrupted by occasional, and unexpected, trips to Anchorage. today, it's Anchorage.

midnight snack

no time

things have been a little crazy here this week, as dea's cousin steve is in town from seattle. this is his first trip to Alaska, and we're fitting in quite a bit. we just returned from a two day backpacking trip near Pinnell Mountain. the weather was abysmal- driving rain, cold, and relentless wind. an epic trip to be sure.

we're taking a couple days to recover, and dry out. in a couple days we will make our way south to valdez to do some sea kayaking.

my posts here will be thin at best until next week. too much to say to say much at all.


dea contemplating the remaining 8 miles.

more backpacking images here.

listening to americna music club.

tuesday june 20th

dea's birthday was today. she wasn't feeling well however- didn't go into the lab until well into the afternoon, but put on a brave face. we had reservations down at lavelle's- she felt better in the evening so we went and had a nice dinner.

now she sleeps. i intended to take the unexpected time to work on some prints, but i'm not feeling it. besides, many more important things before me...

top 100 videos according to pitchfork.

get your jackson on.

andy batt has a new site.

ok, time for bed.

listened to supergrass.

dea flew to anchorage this morning

just got back from the airport. dea is flying to anchorage today to meet with dr.t., as he's the only nephrologist in the state. her blood tests have been a bit concerning the last two weeks, so they want to check on her.

it will be good for her to go to los anchorage though. i'm sure much shopping will be done. the city, with all of it's madness, can be good for the soul.

the following images were taken close to home- dea and i wandering around on memorial day:






listening to the stone roses

sometimes life’s a fucker.

it’s been over a month since my last post. this submission was intended to be a flimsy new year’s resolution spot. how i’ll write more in the new year. how i’ll be more diligent and with my updates for my dear readers- never mind that no one knows this space exists but me. priorities change.

here i sit by the bed of my ailing wife. we have been here, in seattle, for two weeks yesterday. she’s not doing well, and we don’t know when we will be going home. i’ve had other things to worry about- least of which is this blog. she is my everything and indulgences like these seem petty.

yesterday, as it has for two weeks now, this space seemed so trivial. self indulging. forced. maybe it is, but today i have a need to resurrect it. that’s what i waited for i guess a need, not a want.

my wife and i published our own blog over six months ago before we made our move from our home in colorado to our new home in alaska. it was a way of documenting our trip. like most blogs it was a light hearted document of our lives. we only shared the good times, and we provided our friends and family with our interpretation of life in alaska.

the past two weeks however, the ‘other’ blog has morphed into something more. it has become a legitimate form of communication- the only way of reaching the masses with updates on her progress and treatment. with exception of the occasional friend coming to seattle to lend much welcomed support, we are alone in this city. all we know of it are the four walls of this increasingly less sterile hospital room. our blog has served as our consistent voice, and our audience has kept it valid.

so why am i here now- back at this place that is so detached from the reality of now? because i need to be. i have a need to speak about my loves, what moves me. i have a need to articulate aspects of my photography. share my views on design, architecture, books- things that excite me. simply- i need an outlet.

i’ve journaled for as long as i can remember, but not once did i pin my pages to a board for all to read. it’s still a site that knows no audience, however, if i can eventually elevate it to a form of communication i will be pleased. for now, it’s a place for me to release. share. evolve.

when i get home i'll start new. shoot more. love more. immerse myself more. start new with this blog, all old posts be damned.

*delete old posts*