tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40041117155574176122024-02-20T14:07:38.817-07:00City LightsJonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-34651260130929253732013-10-15T21:52:00.001-06:002013-10-15T21:52:14.226-06:00Two years!Time just kept slipping away. About once a week for the past two years or so, I would think to myself, "I should update my blog." And then I realized that I didn't really have anything interesting to say. And I realized that nobody was really reading my blog anyway (two years went by without a single person asking when I'm going to update my blog....). So I'm finally breaking the cycle and starting my blog again.<br />
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Two years. A lot has happened in that time. I got married earlier this year, and married life has been great. It's nice coming home from a long day at school/work, pulling into the driveway, and seeing that the lights are on, somebody's home, and she just can't wait to see me. I also started a PhD program in Moving Image Studies, taking my education to bizarre and frightening depths (we spend three hours analyzing a 90 minute movie...and we still don't have enough time). I presented my first paper at a conference, which was a simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating experience--it was scary to think that somebody else might actually disagree with my own observations. And going along with my schooling, I moved back to Georgia after being away for nine years. After being away for so long, I just kept assuming my life would take me somewhere else, but I guess Georgia's not done with me yet.<br />
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I've also driven across the country five different times in that two year span. Is it weird that I don't mind long car trips? And perhaps most distressing of all...it's been another two years, and BYU still hasn't beaten Utah. Maybe by some fluke Utah will finish sixth in the Pac-12 this year, leading to a re-match at the Kraft Fight Hunger Bowl. Ha.<br />
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Anyway, I don't know what direction this blog may take. I'll still post pictures. I'll also share random observations on things related to film. And there may be some funny stories of incidents that happened in my life. Part of it might depend on what people actually want to hear about. I don't anticipate any comments for awhile, since I doubt anyone will be checking my blog (so long, Google Reader!). But if you're here, leave a comment and tell me what you'd like to see on the blog.Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-88283800565564006412011-10-24T10:43:00.005-06:002011-10-24T11:10:33.926-06:00Fall<div>I finally have a little downtime to post something. I didn't realize that it's been five months since my last post! Not too much has been going on, really. I have been staying busy with work, and I try to find a little bit of time each week to do some photography. I am working on a time lapse project that I will post on here once it is finished, but until then, here are a few pictures.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmpGL0sXGEZFWqclHDzQJNu_pnG1vi7jqkKg2rcCDMwIVkRwSUZzEp3bhXgejQ_mlJ5hLi79zSuaw4sKpN3u7dILPuIEDzilfPfSfFprF6WhJiIphuz-N0-fY-VFUwbIwkd0q9ofl2T4l/s1600/DSC_8984.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmpGL0sXGEZFWqclHDzQJNu_pnG1vi7jqkKg2rcCDMwIVkRwSUZzEp3bhXgejQ_mlJ5hLi79zSuaw4sKpN3u7dILPuIEDzilfPfSfFprF6WhJiIphuz-N0-fY-VFUwbIwkd0q9ofl2T4l/s400/DSC_8984.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667100918516743170" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">On Shoreline Trail -- a friend and I decided to go on a little photo walk through Millcreek Canyon and then up on Shoreline Trail.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjs7oKxwQG_MXISgKKnk7drfgZ8O4h3hfQaya3pjoY_en5dQKEo-SUurMNwLvR9voVDOLQ_Z8SAec_IshfXTph30lwR7y8WdDQ1n82GbfJwbDQEkjluUji_e3etYN75WNRarwsRaWY4yNi/s1600/DSC_8962.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjs7oKxwQG_MXISgKKnk7drfgZ8O4h3hfQaya3pjoY_en5dQKEo-SUurMNwLvR9voVDOLQ_Z8SAec_IshfXTph30lwR7y8WdDQ1n82GbfJwbDQEkjluUji_e3etYN75WNRarwsRaWY4yNi/s400/DSC_8962.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667100785785103010" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">In Millcreek Canyon -- apparently this part was actually private property (owned by the Boy Scouts), but there weren't any signs and the gates were open. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOYl6okY9BpuDYe8VLCevR5stvj3dguApHanKSBQN1Qy8xmaPGR_ujlHNQPV72A2gdsTDjg6iYYEijxxOoc2fkt-DicIDdmn_CPFvtMcxGGwmz2gprgYpC3zv3HX-HN655pLsv9ECV8_6l/s1600/DSC_8958.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOYl6okY9BpuDYe8VLCevR5stvj3dguApHanKSBQN1Qy8xmaPGR_ujlHNQPV72A2gdsTDjg6iYYEijxxOoc2fkt-DicIDdmn_CPFvtMcxGGwmz2gprgYpC3zv3HX-HN655pLsv9ECV8_6l/s400/DSC_8958.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667100781992427602" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Another leaf--I was goofing off with the color hues between these two leaves, trying to see which style I liked better</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfjfFCqv4tZjLhONTuZlMreDOnoqdwZKa3ETrFIr16Z0CSRQ3g2Sbb2Ii9jdnSKcEglGMY2OsXrEyxpc20lSRvqbkJCOOt6InkzkVA-KRkCqZ-Vp-ssfHdeejaV3kh7Q0f3Js0FOux3dov/s1600/DSC_8101.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfjfFCqv4tZjLhONTuZlMreDOnoqdwZKa3ETrFIr16Z0CSRQ3g2Sbb2Ii9jdnSKcEglGMY2OsXrEyxpc20lSRvqbkJCOOt6InkzkVA-KRkCqZ-Vp-ssfHdeejaV3kh7Q0f3Js0FOux3dov/s400/DSC_8101.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667100773037593826" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Alpine Loop, looking towards Sundance.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRFs7wxMKXV8sh1JwS9ybqXXJmU52jsirC0LDZdCA6RBiXTwJL7AAL8lflIlEny7AHdNzeIi77tHsYljM-Qrx-TFsusIFHucT-880_As1a14O0OxL1t7Ct4siZFaXs5a4zixNrj7byfv-/s1600/DSC_5874.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRFs7wxMKXV8sh1JwS9ybqXXJmU52jsirC0LDZdCA6RBiXTwJL7AAL8lflIlEny7AHdNzeIi77tHsYljM-Qrx-TFsusIFHucT-880_As1a14O0OxL1t7Ct4siZFaXs5a4zixNrj7byfv-/s400/DSC_5874.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667100765085535810" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">John Deere tractor in Winnemucca, Nevada. I still need to send my sister a print of this one...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6mYSKrqNAXIJ6swX69y-z0zGTR2EnMa0RUeO4f3nCmbUvjc5qZZrieCzJpKxGhlSkM_6rIo3adh47mM-owXO5rv-SjIS7-5sDvvHKXjQvgJckQZ7GFKhmgi7juxLzM6wToss3QWMrR14/s1600/DSC_5632.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6mYSKrqNAXIJ6swX69y-z0zGTR2EnMa0RUeO4f3nCmbUvjc5qZZrieCzJpKxGhlSkM_6rIo3adh47mM-owXO5rv-SjIS7-5sDvvHKXjQvgJckQZ7GFKhmgi7juxLzM6wToss3QWMrR14/s400/DSC_5632.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667100760162573586" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Taylorsville Days -- I wish I would have gone back about ten minutes later, when the lights on the Ferris wheel came on. </div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-42891985055682956742011-05-18T22:22:00.006-06:002011-05-18T23:40:47.620-06:00Going Home<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjspPuftkjWwQcbuV8jjl0Qc4feATQUnam05d7V4xdMabQpn02k3vM1OR8q5s2RBtpJNmC26npmP2pMv6j2FjFf2Loh1RKrJEWk8gq0nyrLOxm8R6QUSzQw6bCIw-h7ld7e0BEpsShGyd7z/s1600/light+059.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjspPuftkjWwQcbuV8jjl0Qc4feATQUnam05d7V4xdMabQpn02k3vM1OR8q5s2RBtpJNmC26npmP2pMv6j2FjFf2Loh1RKrJEWk8gq0nyrLOxm8R6QUSzQw6bCIw-h7ld7e0BEpsShGyd7z/s400/light+059.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608279705613681282" /></a><div style="font-family:Times;font-size:medium;color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>As my brother and I drove up to the house, I thought that it was a good day. Dark clouds hovered over the valley, and the forecast called for rain. But off to the west over the lake, the clouds ended abruptly. The sun was setting triumphantly, seeming to mock the clouds with its glory. We were going to visit my grandfather, my abuelito. I secretly wished that he would pass away that evening, that his suffering would end and that I could hold on to the memory of that sunset as the day Guelito died.<br /><br />We went around the house and came in through the downstairs. The door creaked loudly, and a dozen faces turned to look at us. Many of them were teary-eyed, and a few gave us a half-smile, a type of “Good to see you, glad you could make it,” even though we all would have liked to be reuniting under better circumstances.<br /><br />Our parents were at the head of Guelito’s bed, and we moved our way through hugs and handshakes until we reached them. Dad is a doctor, and it was nice to know that he was there--I think a lot of people appreciated having him there, giving a few words of medical advice and helping everyone know a little of what was going on.<br /><br />My grandmother Guelita was also at the head of the bed, holding Guelito’s hand. She would lean over occasionally to talk to him and kiss him on the forehead. Several boxes of tissues and a wastebasket were close-by, ready for anyone that might need them. The wastebasket was already halfway full of wadded up tissues and sanitary wipes.<br /><br />After hugging Guelita and my parents, I finally got a good look at Guelito. His eyes were closed, and his mouth hung slightly open. Tubing carried oxygen into his nose, but the few breaths he was taking were going through his mouth. He was chain-stoking--that’s what my dad called it. Two or three big breaths, followed by few shallow breaths. I had to look it up to know that it was a cycle of breathing often associated with heart failure, as the body fluctuates between apnea and hyperpnea.<br /><br />I patted his shoulder and kissed him on the head, and he continued to lay motionless. After visiting with everyone for a little while, my brother and I passed through another round of hugs and handshakes and drove home.<br /><br />I set my phone next to my bed, fully expecting to receive a phone call sometime in the night with the news of Guelito’s passing. The next morning, Tuesday, I ran upstairs and turned my phone on and off, just to make sure I didn’t miss any messages. Guelito was still there.<br /><br />I drove to work in a rainstorm. The clouds from the day before had continued moving in, and everything was gray and dreary. When I was just a few minutes away from work, it started to snow. In May. I secretly wished that Guelito wouldn’t pass away that day, that I could have a better memory of his passing than some freak snow flurry in late spring.<br /><br />The snow reminded me of New York City, and remembering the city made me remember when my Guelito almost passed away. I had been in New York City the previous summer working on my master’s degree. Guelito had another bout of poor health and ended up in the hospital, and the phone calls from my mom and dad let me know that he was expected to pass away at any time. I told my manager there in New York about what was going on, and that I might need to step out to take a phone call. She asked if I wanted to take the day off of work. I thought about it for a brief moment, but I turned down the offer. Most of my family was back in Utah, and there wasn’t anything for me to do if I was just at my apartment by myself. A few hours later I received a phone call from my mom, and I started getting choked up even before I answered. I stepped into the break area, and my mom said, “Here’s Guelito. Tell him you love him.” I managed to force the words out, and I heard him saying something in return. My mom had to translate the Spanish. “He said, ‘I love you too,’ and he’s going home. He’s going home...” I ran to the nearest bathroom and cried for several minutes, trying to get it all out. I washed my face and went back to work, and my manager asked me again if I wanted to take the day off. I shook my head, insisting that I needed to stay busy.<br /><br />That night was one of the worst nights I have ever experienced, and I haven’t told many people about it. I had my cell phone close at hand, waiting for the final call. I lived by myself in a studio apartment there in New York, and being all alone got the better of me. I became emotional in a way that I never knew was possible. I sobbed uncontrollably for more than an hour, and at times it felt like I was hyperventilating. I remember sitting on the edge of my bed with my feet on the floor, rocking back and forth and hugging my shoulders, wishing more than anything for someone to comfort me.<br /><br />And then he went and got better! I still don’t know whether his telling me that he was “going home” meant that he was dying, or whether it meant that he was actually getting better and leaving the hospital.<br /><br />That was last summer, and this time felt different. He wasn’t going to get better.<br /><br />Tuesday night, it was my turn to stay by his bedside. Everyone expected him to pass that night, and I was secretly terrified. How often do I need to check on him, how will I know, who do I wake up, who do I call? And worst of all, what if I go through all that and I make a mistake? What if he’s still there, and I’m causing a fuss waking everyone up and making everyone emotional for a false alarm?<br /><br />Guelita wanted to stay with him throughout the night, but people talked her out of it. Dad told her, “We have one sick person, and we don’t need two...” I don’t remember who it was, but somebody talked her into at least leaving Guelito to take a shower. After getting cleaned up, Guelita realized how tired she really was and finally decided to go to bed.<br /><br />One of my aunts and one of my cousins decided to stay up, and what a blessing that was. It was nice having someone to talk to, but above all, I knew that I wasn’t alone. If Guelito passed during the night, there would be somebody else there, and I would be okay. We talked throughout the night, pausing every once in awhile when we heard a hesitation in Guelito’s breathing. Was that it? Is he gone? But his breathing would continue, and we’d continue talking--whispering, really. It was an unspoken agreement that we would all speak in hushed tones, as if Guelito were only sleeping and we didn’t want to wake him...<br /><br />His breathing grew shallower as the night wore on. My aunt kept telling me that I could go ahead and rest, that Guelito still had another few hours at least, but I didn’t want to leave. I reached under the blanket and held his hand for awhile. Early in the morning, he started to grow restless. He would pull his hand away and try to raise himself up, as if he were trying to move himself. We wanted to roll him a little, to let him rest on a different side, but my aunt said she wasn’t supposed to move him unless he’d been given morphine--and we didn’t have the morphine. So we sat there throughout the night, wincing whenever he would moan and try to move himself, the furrows in his brow indicating that he was in some pain.<br /><br />When morning came, morphine was finally administered. Before he had slipped into unconsciousness, he had told others that he didn’t want to be given any morphine. We felt that a balance was reached between honoring his wishes and not letting him suffer. At 6:00am, I went out to buy bagels and muffins. I was groggy from being up all night, but I wanted the chance to just be by myself for little while. My aunt stayed with Guelito, and she gave me directions to the nearest bakery.<br /><br />It was raining again when I stepped outside, but I ignored it. I didn’t have an umbrella, and I can’t control the weather, so what’s the use making a fuss about something that is out of your hands?<br /><br />More aunts and uncles showed up, and with everyone else around, I knew that I could leave. I was exhausted from all of the emotional and physical turmoil, and I decided to rest for a little while before heading back home. Maybe that’s what Guelito was doing, lying there in his bed during his final moments. He’d had a long and fulfilling life, and after all that, maybe he just wanted to rest before finally going home.<br /><br />I got back to my apartment and fell asleep immediately. I didn’t hear when my roommates got home, or when my brother walked into the room after he got back from work. The only thing I heard was the phone call that woke me up a few minutes after 5:00pm--he was gone.<br /><br />I stepped outside to get better reception as I called my sisters to let them know. It was still raining, but it was a good day; it was the day Guelito went home.<br /><br />Going home. That’s the name of the song that they want playing during a video presentation at his funeral. My uncle’s going to give me the pictures, and I’m going to work on creating a slideshow with one of my cousins. I found another song to use as well. It’s a lullaby. I think the two songs will go well together; one speaks of going home, and the other about sleeping peacefully.<br /><br />Come to me, O child beloved,<br />Eyes of wonder softly close,<br />Tiny hand release my finger,<br />Weary head receive repose.<br />Sleep, and love arises in me,<br />Waking hope till joy o'erflows.<br />Lead me, little child so tender,<br />To the place I long to go. <div><br />Rest in me, O child beloved,<br />May thy sweet dreams never cease:<br />Till I hear around us winging<br />Seraphs singing heavenly peace.<br />Then I'll walk through night and shadow<br />By the light that shines in thee,<br />Flowing as a stream forever<br />To the blessed, fruitful Tree.<br />Singing heavenly peace forever.<br />Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep.</div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-83102183616610075272011-04-03T21:36:00.003-06:002011-04-03T21:56:17.511-06:00Festival of Colors<div><div>I finally got around to posting these pictures here, even though this all happened last week. I went down to the Festival of Colors with my brother and some friends. The festival is held every year to kind of usher in spring, and it involves throwing a ton of colored chalk around. We showed up, threw some chalk, walked around for a few minutes, and then went to get something to eat. I think we only stayed for twenty to thirty minutes or so. But hey, I'd never done it, even though TONS of people from BYU go each year. Anyway, so here are some pictures--</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqmGBRSj-NopDT74c22sTABJp7LfjXZtnjRUck8U90yMdNkrUY6YP94K28f3GCZOGbITtSKX9eTL9NgaueaA-NkDLwVl3Rv1B_m-CL0bEEwqlh6RONeG7tVFzf8QpYae-IH3xBrjW6GntB/s1600/DSC_4965.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqmGBRSj-NopDT74c22sTABJp7LfjXZtnjRUck8U90yMdNkrUY6YP94K28f3GCZOGbITtSKX9eTL9NgaueaA-NkDLwVl3Rv1B_m-CL0bEEwqlh6RONeG7tVFzf8QpYae-IH3xBrjW6GntB/s400/DSC_4965.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591569131084374546" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is me just before getting into the car. The gray shirt over my should was the one I had been wearing the whole time, so this is my second layer of clothes.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2eu7FEusTbeVvT5g8A_CE7pDqFTlTzKQ-WFPkD0EaA3Ysrw-AqyOs4eB5AW6DhwfSEFASAVN5X6Am34Aod_WJpJRJr-ZPhv0A4Tbd7dsYyYi0tayur78GbT6lPoIvVWoyFguD3AItWZR/s1600/DSC_4843.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2eu7FEusTbeVvT5g8A_CE7pDqFTlTzKQ-WFPkD0EaA3Ysrw-AqyOs4eB5AW6DhwfSEFASAVN5X6Am34Aod_WJpJRJr-ZPhv0A4Tbd7dsYyYi0tayur78GbT6lPoIvVWoyFguD3AItWZR/s400/DSC_4843.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591569125674461442" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Andrea, shortly after the chalk started getting thrown around</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9OR8vztZH1u7mnRS5S5Oi8uibgSVbzWEQe9deaRoZzR4_QRl5wqv92cFQFwm7pJHiq762V4dFVjqHPStEt57UiLCYF5-0MCnlRzu8dhymjEruJh8biqJECl-xvIV_YatQR7Xg_yY8XFFP/s1600/DSC_4849.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9OR8vztZH1u7mnRS5S5Oi8uibgSVbzWEQe9deaRoZzR4_QRl5wqv92cFQFwm7pJHiq762V4dFVjqHPStEt57UiLCYF5-0MCnlRzu8dhymjEruJh8biqJECl-xvIV_YatQR7Xg_yY8XFFP/s400/DSC_4849.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591569115544493058" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My bro</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Jkx5BT1cb7DxTRKmyJhizhEE6zQvtQ0YyIqUl2X4KieNqB-WGOPu2NPAkixZd3RKM0_dSpG4SlURf0zIxo-NEcVosGq7dMxBRcc5zx3Cyfxinnl4lMMaJDb6nnxrpJ0A4FlslPvtDhmZ/s1600/DSC_4945.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Jkx5BT1cb7DxTRKmyJhizhEE6zQvtQ0YyIqUl2X4KieNqB-WGOPu2NPAkixZd3RKM0_dSpG4SlURf0zIxo-NEcVosGq7dMxBRcc5zx3Cyfxinnl4lMMaJDb6nnxrpJ0A4FlslPvtDhmZ/s400/DSC_4945.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591569109784861586" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Our group--we did try to clean up before going to the restaurant, but we still looked pretty bad. I feel bad for the white tablecloth at our table...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7x51DIjy0hltXznF0Ae76uoSmhrCnXcQaaKxvMpythqvFtbowMmpBw1_3Ed1GmI-bSLGdQacii99RcbHjsKaf2tvRxLSWdsK7XttYAsKqZ5JotffecBMITO5l5qhcEykLUZiXLVWx9SP/s1600/DSC_4887.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7x51DIjy0hltXznF0Ae76uoSmhrCnXcQaaKxvMpythqvFtbowMmpBw1_3Ed1GmI-bSLGdQacii99RcbHjsKaf2tvRxLSWdsK7XttYAsKqZ5JotffecBMITO5l5qhcEykLUZiXLVWx9SP/s400/DSC_4887.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591569102793539794" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Ian</div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiza-LUuHg2mSn7iv6-MhRz2eAXQ_wnrEfJuMFiiDENrp2MRXbcBy4DmC2HCB2k5V0lR2cCp7akSXTsEB4wvMfZItdoACF8a-LVsTnUBOzKHY9hFORlIZ-Qjy-hGWkiWiIAsTpWowHeYuOK/s1600/DSC_4896.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiza-LUuHg2mSn7iv6-MhRz2eAXQ_wnrEfJuMFiiDENrp2MRXbcBy4DmC2HCB2k5V0lR2cCp7akSXTsEB4wvMfZItdoACF8a-LVsTnUBOzKHY9hFORlIZ-Qjy-hGWkiWiIAsTpWowHeYuOK/s400/DSC_4896.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591568780268562514" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My brother's hands, overlooking the festival</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXaV1JKYdGde-VnIasF20TjnNvzwKhVfMLouVWpi4uqGSeNBQTNFym7Gp2g4B04YqreYedpSlp2ArJFZyi3S3BqlPpFygc_Kt8GXD-UU_6dlgn0Un1oPQkjKUUVwsnyu6NYadEe4U22WHi/s1600/DSC_4905.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXaV1JKYdGde-VnIasF20TjnNvzwKhVfMLouVWpi4uqGSeNBQTNFym7Gp2g4B04YqreYedpSlp2ArJFZyi3S3BqlPpFygc_Kt8GXD-UU_6dlgn0Un1oPQkjKUUVwsnyu6NYadEe4U22WHi/s400/DSC_4905.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591568779014769890" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">After the festival</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijobndxUNPLi3ZSVdCKAyMhQq8xVhpqzPfRjZqd8TUIv8-y8Rt-aGIm1ocYF10AiMq6wbLxBYdS9qYl5V-ia3MuP0U4F0UD2O9oDwak8fIbw6guRohD2UlKwCCPiqEPrJZiAN9OXeH4t3w/s1600/DSC_4814.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijobndxUNPLi3ZSVdCKAyMhQq8xVhpqzPfRjZqd8TUIv8-y8Rt-aGIm1ocYF10AiMq6wbLxBYdS9qYl5V-ia3MuP0U4F0UD2O9oDwak8fIbw6guRohD2UlKwCCPiqEPrJZiAN9OXeH4t3w/s400/DSC_4814.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591568771831478306" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Right when they started the color throwing--I had my camera inside a ziploc bag, with electrical tape sealing up every opening. Only the front of the lens was exposed, and I even put a SECOND ziploc bag over everything. I'm glad I did, because there were quite a few cameras that got destroyed from all the dust--</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyq3Mg5Ny83MTyyRsU9_l4Ecjua7B3OnlAwOxKIfmGigvI9lJxaom9Iu_LQ9Jrs0k39PIYUe6KCHkTyMvYVGCOwVV2EPFU0OAXhogTU0qBSi2D0raUOluyi_MDGoIWMViCCccx_G7IH8x2/s1600/DSC_4817.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyq3Mg5Ny83MTyyRsU9_l4Ecjua7B3OnlAwOxKIfmGigvI9lJxaom9Iu_LQ9Jrs0k39PIYUe6KCHkTyMvYVGCOwVV2EPFU0OAXhogTU0qBSi2D0raUOluyi_MDGoIWMViCCccx_G7IH8x2/s400/DSC_4817.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591568763784489874" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN4g3mYVLHyJZ4b0PZ7Ti3p3lo5_h976o5ISGEh2PuyR1CkguQH1MFzkPHHSI5rEpsskVe4jmvPxGIF7yyykkPGRhQ2cJVREHNgY_mA9uYgxl_6tdSynEmRuJsVDEl-kYP0d8iT0zoqF7j/s1600/DSC_4845.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN4g3mYVLHyJZ4b0PZ7Ti3p3lo5_h976o5ISGEh2PuyR1CkguQH1MFzkPHHSI5rEpsskVe4jmvPxGIF7yyykkPGRhQ2cJVREHNgY_mA9uYgxl_6tdSynEmRuJsVDEl-kYP0d8iT0zoqF7j/s400/DSC_4845.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591568761553226354" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The colors really are that flourescent</div></div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-67095765463218238182011-03-22T21:52:00.006-06:002011-03-22T22:34:30.596-06:00Junkyard<div>My roommate recently bought a used car, but he wanted to get a few parts for it. He decided to take a trip to the junkyard, and I tagged along just to take a few pictures. It was kind of interesting just looking at all of the old cars, trying to picture what had happened. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jon_foto/5552307346/" title="Tire by jon_foto, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5258/5552307346_b3d651116a_z.jpg" width="640" height="424" alt="Tire" /></a><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Some cars looked like they had collided with a telephone pole, with the front part of the car completely twisted and deformed. Others looked like someone had died in them (okay, so some of the deployed airbags could have come from people hacking at the dashboard, stripping it for parts---it was still eerie though). One car looked like it had bullet holes through the windshield.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jon_foto/5552306432/" title="Rows of Junk by jon_foto, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5068/5552306432_d504520982_z.jpg" width="424" height="640" alt="Rows of Junk" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span></span>I just thought it was interesting, since it was only the second junkyard I've ever been to. This one was organized into rows, and you could look up on their online database which car model you're looking for. The only other junkyard I've been to was back in Georgia, and there was no organization whatsoever. That junkyard only had dirt roads that always seemed muddy, and cars were stacked one on top of the other and off to the side---anywhere there was room, really. And the "database" was the owner, who just knew which cars were on his lot, and he had a pretty good idea of what parts were still available. If you called on a slow day, he'd even strip out the parts you needed for the chance of earning a tip.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jon_foto/5551719107/" title="Finding the right piece by jon_foto, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5187/5551719107_05138827d9_z.jpg" width="424" height="640" alt="Finding the right piece" /></a><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></span></div><div>And my roommate decided to dress like a hobo for the occasion, which meant wearing 3D glasses just for the heck of it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I just found the junkyard to be both unsettling and fascinating. It was interesting to see people finding a mini treasure trove of parts that they needed, but on another level, it almost feels like legalized grave robbing (not that I would know what grave robbing feels like...although we did stumble upon an old slave graveyard out in the woods in Georgia. One of the graves was open, and we could see a skeleton inside. We kept daring each other to climb in--nobody did, but it still makes for a random icebreaker in a conversation to throw that out there).</div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-66283793572403142552011-03-03T23:03:00.005-07:002011-03-03T23:35:52.931-07:00Lighting Class<div style="text-align: left;">So I just got back from a creative lighting workshop at Pictureline, and it was a blast. The workshop was led by Paul Van Allen, a Nikon rep who travels the country, teaching people how to use their Nikon gear. I was never a fan of flash photography, simply because I always felt that it was too harsh, washing out details and looking unnatural--well after tonight, I have completely changed my mind. Paul taught us how to set our cameras to trigger wireless flashes, and then we actually got hands on experience going to different stations. Each of the pictures below were ones that I took, but they are all based on lighting set-ups and compositions that Paul has displayed on <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/pva1964/">his flickr account</a>. The only exception was the water drop--that was taken with a camera that was already set up on a tripod (I believe that camera was a D300s), and I just had to put my memory card in. I still had to time the picture just right though. Anyway, here are the pictures--</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKwlphvPSdlTSGecyAf0BXqiivllSFEtk77j3QSVc2NbjA-9xovevIJ-oL4cPDWoKYpF_lkY7blNrV5FIY5789EQS9ju2AObnKexOpo9wXnUfABFXt-E_Ra1XybfmDhD9OPhiJ582cdfgD/s1600/DSC_4603.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKwlphvPSdlTSGecyAf0BXqiivllSFEtk77j3QSVc2NbjA-9xovevIJ-oL4cPDWoKYpF_lkY7blNrV5FIY5789EQS9ju2AObnKexOpo9wXnUfABFXt-E_Ra1XybfmDhD9OPhiJ582cdfgD/s400/DSC_4603.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580101910421782962" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The paint brush was clamped to a wooden dowel, with a bucket of lime green paint underneath. Right before taking the picture, you simply lift the bucket up to the brush to get the angle, and then time the shot to get a nice drip. I missed getting a drop of paint suspended in the air, but I still thought it was pretty cool.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CjnvcHikPnRkOwqPXTnsmaf7q0sj3aLfRtesw8UTA1cqXn-1J_Bb-b3fjSDb4Ct7NZZdKf667k2ObTzrakegAuYH84Jkeq84wtcIH6_3t4jw5KmCtt_4h3OtX80Uuq6j7qyrcHu2XNHM/s1600/DSC_4602.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CjnvcHikPnRkOwqPXTnsmaf7q0sj3aLfRtesw8UTA1cqXn-1J_Bb-b3fjSDb4Ct7NZZdKf667k2ObTzrakegAuYH84Jkeq84wtcIH6_3t4jw5KmCtt_4h3OtX80Uuq6j7qyrcHu2XNHM/s400/DSC_4602.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580101906185829666" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Gumballs</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg89tz-Y-NtJHoa3m32jwBwkEMKCc21K7rQ6fkT310M2XbLh0kgPLNELdVhgQfnYustZi5FiE6X3mzICqcaS68Imf-1vWnCGjALrUZKkHa0XEObQg6m2PahORZBw8PaFtcYf65kdHQ1ltGq/s1600/DSC_4597.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg89tz-Y-NtJHoa3m32jwBwkEMKCc21K7rQ6fkT310M2XbLh0kgPLNELdVhgQfnYustZi5FiE6X3mzICqcaS68Imf-1vWnCGjALrUZKkHa0XEObQg6m2PahORZBw8PaFtcYf65kdHQ1ltGq/s400/DSC_4597.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580101897979032898" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3toUWYA_G4trb5JfYvEATPS2zK8zwJAHOEFYDNoNJ3V1-jSuijM77V24vNUfn7I-ybo8XfIGhCXtrG-mvyNut0glINWy2oohlwFl8WcEbr2HBwC03IQWkLAxq-poyZWwZF4MoOx4XJS_S/s400/DSC_6480.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580103217486475874" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></span><div style="text-align: center;">Everyone was trying to get a perfectly suspended drop of water, but the line at this station was starting to get backed up. So I settled for this shot instead--I kind of like how the water is glassy smooth instead of rippling the way you normally see with shots of water droplets.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguf0us2mSIavoc7luxxzFoBCV1W-3MejbY6qozEcsN1p6piBHZ5d4UHPFgn1yKk29rHLoAQeGQJsT21EYRrjvDMBYtPhVAZC5lFqRM5Qbo2Jhd1Uzd-HasA9FtqdGHDvsq4n938R98-9X_/s400/DSC_4606.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580103046389134594" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">We all loved this station. And once you know how to do it, all sorts of possibilities just start to open up--I'm going to have a lot of fun with this stuff...</div></div></div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-18779504188662099102011-02-27T22:07:00.003-07:002011-02-27T22:11:58.990-07:00Sugar House - Time LapseI shot this video in Sugar House Park this past Thursday. I wanted to try and take advantage of the cloudy skies for some flat lighting. Anyway, I'm just getting a feel for the video on my new camera--I'm pretty impressed with it so far, and I'm looking forward to working on some different projects throughout these upcoming weeks (and try something outside of Sugar House Park). Feel free to leave your comments.<br /><br /><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/20424739" width="400" height="300" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/20424739">Sugar House Park - Winter</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user4447317">Jon</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-56673245336311554422011-02-22T12:58:00.003-07:002011-02-22T13:02:33.348-07:00Shoreline TrailI was finally able to upload another time lapse test--this is from Shoreline Trail at the mouth of Emigration Canyon. And I apologize for the flicker...shooting a high contrast scene like that can cause some very tiny fluctuation in shutter speed with so many pictures, which produces a flicker when you play them back like this. Let me know what you think--<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/20230890" width="400" height="300" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/20230890">Shoreline Trail - time Lapse</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user4447317">Jon</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-5774605877583530532011-02-12T21:28:00.004-07:002011-02-12T21:50:44.658-07:00Valley<div style="text-align: left;">I went out yesterday afternoon to try and do some more time lapse experiments. I started heading up Emigration Canyon, but then I saw Shoreline Trail and decided to just walk up there. It was really muddy, but there were a lot of people still jogging on the trail. I thought everything looked great in-camera, and I didn't realize that you could get so much flicker while shooting time lapse--I'm still trying to read up on how to prevent that in the future.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I'll post the time lapse test once it's finished uploading, but in the meantime, here's a picture I took while I was heading back down the trail. The temperature dropped a good 25 degrees or so once the sun went down, and I was in a bit of a rush to get back to my car. But I saw this tree with Salt Lake City behind it, and I figured it wouldn't hurt to take a quick picture. Luckily my camera was still on my tripod, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to set anything up since my hands were completely numb from the cold. Enjoy.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jon_foto/5437970406/" title="Valley Tree by jon_foto, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5099/5437970406_eb65445369.jpg" width="500" height="331" alt="Valley Tree" /></a>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-19849502288120990912011-02-05T17:17:00.004-07:002011-02-06T12:34:26.907-07:00Time Lapse Test<div>Well the job hunt is still on-going, but I'm hoping something will come up soon. I've been applying and turning in resumes, and I've had a couple of interviews. Some of the places weren't hiring immediately though and won't be making a decision until the 2nd week in February. I'm not just sitting around waiting for them to call me back, but it would be nice to least know for sure...</div><div><br /></div><div>In other news, I've been having a lot of fun with my new camera. Just recently I did some time lapse tests, and I tried to post the video here, but I don't know if it will load right or not. It was just of some geese down in Sugar House Park. I set my camera up to take a picture every three seconds, and then decided to play it back at eight frames a second. So nothing spectacular going on, just a few things moving in and out of the frame, but I'm still learning how to do it. Let me know what you guys think (or better yet, leave suggestions of something you would like to see done in time lapse...). And the clip should be able to play full-screen, but if not, click on the "vimeo" button. </div><div><br /></div><br /><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/19613322" width="400" height="300" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/19613322">Sugar House - Time Lapse</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user4447317">Jon</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-90798584543000461012011-01-26T17:44:00.008-07:002011-01-26T18:33:30.577-07:00Some pictures, and The Sandpit<div>Okay, just a quick post for now. I'm still job hunting, but something will come up. I had a couple of interviews, but both places are still evaluating different people--actual hiring won't occur for another week or two, so I'm not sure if I'd even be offered a job at those places. And I try to keep busy working on projects and some photography. Just a couple of pictures below--</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9ZiKox2PVmwljV7WxWWoxpJuodH2pMErQ863nr10y5GHqIAgcI19ghQIkXu6aETGOgU_9imyJGKpMyAnSMKp57BAOTQK6cBv1M0lGjkQl92MYUcuFzg3L_WQ4d9r0D5nGHAThTOQgep_/s1600/DSC_0497.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9ZiKox2PVmwljV7WxWWoxpJuodH2pMErQ863nr10y5GHqIAgcI19ghQIkXu6aETGOgU_9imyJGKpMyAnSMKp57BAOTQK6cBv1M0lGjkQl92MYUcuFzg3L_WQ4d9r0D5nGHAThTOQgep_/s400/DSC_0497.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566667791840225010" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br />Busy, busy, busy -- I messed up taking this picture and didn't blur the ground enough, so the background is really distracting. I decided to have fun with it anyway and ran it through the "Creative - Split Tone 4" preset in Lightroom. I thought the warning label was interesting, seeing as how I didn't even know it was there until I loaded the picture up on my computer screen.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggUyokCTfgN1vqQdkCahX-ctqulomPlHddqIAnLatnWvLDiuna7suyzAD8FLHvIte-YLAuMor-_INoLNoUGAMJrzkXUnlEwEm2kR9UA_WBS08YqymIAZwIflAR3ZsmqvwiMVZtFUArGCuu/s400/DSC_0518-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566660719946918690" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Same park, different swingset. That's about it.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0h4T3hrbwo8ABwiIewn9UB5OGJJrmJeRNPNiN1cm8Kf4aNjzdSnoaRr5GjsLBWKYc02_vEtD3CqSYjpzMX7IhIOsq3otjFFadkvjtSpodL9MpU8iPuDkvUfGApSOICi30k7_kx4JY0SX/s1600/DSC_0658.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0h4T3hrbwo8ABwiIewn9UB5OGJJrmJeRNPNiN1cm8Kf4aNjzdSnoaRr5GjsLBWKYc02_vEtD3CqSYjpzMX7IhIOsq3otjFFadkvjtSpodL9MpU8iPuDkvUfGApSOICi30k7_kx4JY0SX/s400/DSC_0658.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566660729946970690" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Again, another picture with a busy background. The tree on the left just makes the picture feel crowded to me. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But here's something that is far more interesting. This is a short film called "The Sandpit" by a photographer named Sam O'Hare. It looks like it was all shot with miniatures, but it is just the way it was shot and processed that makes it look that way. He shot it entirely with a still camera, taking pictures at 4 frames per second, and then he edited it together afterwards (I believe he mentioned in an interview that he took around 35,000 pictures just for this project...). To get the full effect, click "Play" and then hit the full-screen button (it looks like square made up of four arrows pointing away from each other)--it should play in HD. Watch until the end--the whole thing is just fascinating.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/9679622" width="400" height="300" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/9679622">The Sandpit</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user1639813">Sam O'Hare</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-83903047880739858202011-01-16T20:01:00.001-07:002011-01-16T20:16:06.536-07:00Hi-res<div>Hmm, for some reason the other post didn't let you click to see a hi-res image for the two pictures below. Hopefully this post works--</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNI7F08OaHq6_myhatDB4rtzfH1YomCyw2ovvQsszhgjwl34_p_Z7TSpFdDPi650vtxxwDZu-uBBG-nvJNDnV-1F5DoKc2-ZHK7ugX3Dlc5mknHbxTLZoj8dqpXHccK6l56Bs_GBtUjoKE/s1600/DSC_0160.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNI7F08OaHq6_myhatDB4rtzfH1YomCyw2ovvQsszhgjwl34_p_Z7TSpFdDPi650vtxxwDZu-uBBG-nvJNDnV-1F5DoKc2-ZHK7ugX3Dlc5mknHbxTLZoj8dqpXHccK6l56Bs_GBtUjoKE/s400/DSC_0160.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562987879220561218" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnpLvCX1Fasbw7GjXcjnJnsMqQGNAzzmn7pBpot75f9Ar_ofIq58L2RSc_NeF71d_iOOXb2m3ZAeCx5WNeAnFpL8KJffU_qkEIDDOQ01ZiXAKy9vRYW6b-q7dFxUmdI8Qj6X1npliulBGV/s1600/DSC_0142.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnpLvCX1Fasbw7GjXcjnJnsMqQGNAzzmn7pBpot75f9Ar_ofIq58L2RSc_NeF71d_iOOXb2m3ZAeCx5WNeAnFpL8KJffU_qkEIDDOQ01ZiXAKy9vRYW6b-q7dFxUmdI8Qj6X1npliulBGV/s400/DSC_0142.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562987876379189474" /></a><br /></div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-11764292301441655682011-01-16T17:28:00.012-07:002011-01-16T19:59:39.898-07:00New York --> Utah<div>Talk about a hectic semester. After looking at my situation there in New York, I came to the decision that I had to move back to Utah once I finished my master's program. I decided this in the last week or so of November...and I finished my classes in December. So the last month was extremely chaotic, trying to balance school, work, and moving. I was also in the middle of applying to Ph.D. programs. On top of that, I started dating someone in the first part of December, and I was trying to find a way to spend time with her with everything else that was going on.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I survived. And I hope I never have to pull another all-nighter ever again...Things got so rushed near the end that I had to pull four all-nighters back-to-back (I do NOT recommend this by any means). But it's over and done now. I've moved back to Utah, and I'm just waiting to hear back from the various Ph.D. programs (I'm looking for work in the meantime). At least I have time now to actually take some pictures and update my blog.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhyQ3A8dkXpp8q1V2V4uc6ze2cTua72DQDibeY7cUVwGMo0XY05Gael6Rfctl52LA1tGK1nbc2v1QvHlGFLIMFfoPBCqj4k-fpnP02cbpy86LgYv4Rxe6ihkeB9asMk6ZeOgqhnkCUau1A/s1600/Overcast-17.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhyQ3A8dkXpp8q1V2V4uc6ze2cTua72DQDibeY7cUVwGMo0XY05Gael6Rfctl52LA1tGK1nbc2v1QvHlGFLIMFfoPBCqj4k-fpnP02cbpy86LgYv4Rxe6ihkeB9asMk6ZeOgqhnkCUau1A/s400/Overcast-17.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562954673589272594" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">A passenger leaving the subway at Columbus Circle. I think it's interesting how this picture came out. I didn't have a tripod with me, so I had my camera propped up on a railing. I wanted to try and isolate a single person right as they were heading up the stairs. Even though this was at the end of the workday, to me it seems as if this man is just getting ready to face the city again.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqm9WeaygAiKtF7D01eg9hLOa-22MDCiTaZvsWJIZua9HCtCd9fK02XiRN1gxItA6MknkkIKXrWBcvfFSaHZzrG87GQgXh04Zffh7OAH9CenGCsYo14mGJYYf5vosunc0Pvx-apkbhZL_a/s1600/Overcast-2.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqm9WeaygAiKtF7D01eg9hLOa-22MDCiTaZvsWJIZua9HCtCd9fK02XiRN1gxItA6MknkkIKXrWBcvfFSaHZzrG87GQgXh04Zffh7OAH9CenGCsYo14mGJYYf5vosunc0Pvx-apkbhZL_a/s400/Overcast-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562954553183370322" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Columbus Circle again. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEn7OdkroxBb4uQuez_G5U1E8Yei-tu5Qt0ySuyh7GENcZdl71NTY8WxZFl3d1y34fGzWiquZt1a1E54VosUE0BBMpH98CnnS5MIXZjpJZtywZergYB1wsqVqxCGIY0eJgCaLAY2oSl7uK/s1600/DSC_0428.jpg"></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7KDw-GkQ0pN1Grx7Ru8kLaV4U6gqk2O_SLJ7dyjBDW9yOl6diNUlBri_rIFisviDznOMz9-F4nV83NfRwscmg0M-fD7U0iRPXkARPrLBLaZIs8_ka8P2wOBJjt2gJ-4nPh0YE9ddpC1-X/s400/DSC_0160.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562953125823602530" style="text-align: left; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Right by my parent's house. I was just testing out my new camera. If I could take the picture again, I would have tried to frame out all of the houses and the fence. But whatever--I didn't want to go tromping through someone's yard just to get closer.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytOIkLUk7uKZBh3AJvxLYPy9RuPHVf8aTn1J8JOmupXsf7A2a3jrymlQ95cd-Vk1ZJArtzAfwHrPPpAPeg32woIO_uVQpGoTRY1mYa2vzME-oQIJBp5KpPKeeExbmVR7iweHZ3q14aug7/s400/DSC_0142.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562952899333805138" style="text-align: left; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Again, just testing out my new camera. I really like the amount of detail it can pick up (if you zoom in, you can see all of the paint flecks and pits on the hydrant's surface)</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEn7OdkroxBb4uQuez_G5U1E8Yei-tu5Qt0ySuyh7GENcZdl71NTY8WxZFl3d1y34fGzWiquZt1a1E54VosUE0BBMpH98CnnS5MIXZjpJZtywZergYB1wsqVqxCGIY0eJgCaLAY2oSl7uK/s1600/DSC_0428.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEn7OdkroxBb4uQuez_G5U1E8Yei-tu5Qt0ySuyh7GENcZdl71NTY8WxZFl3d1y34fGzWiquZt1a1E54VosUE0BBMpH98CnnS5MIXZjpJZtywZergYB1wsqVqxCGIY0eJgCaLAY2oSl7uK/s400/DSC_0428.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562954432118378162" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is literally right in front of my new house in Salt Lake City. Sure, there have been countless images of trees silhouetted against a sunset--I just haven't done any myself :)</div></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipSSQL1kslTHYjnd9boUgjfajXV_EuJlUJvaw__eZ3BMbZHCO1Q5ss6rHOWKT-FNZRtPHjFQZ3C0GPDsfawwFjv8XehpJ3dqDR5LPSfXvPEbw_GrRrvPgAM6nVqHXKk_yrjLM-8S_zXcXo/s1600/DSC_0387.jpg"></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipSSQL1kslTHYjnd9boUgjfajXV_EuJlUJvaw__eZ3BMbZHCO1Q5ss6rHOWKT-FNZRtPHjFQZ3C0GPDsfawwFjv8XehpJ3dqDR5LPSfXvPEbw_GrRrvPgAM6nVqHXKk_yrjLM-8S_zXcXo/s1600/DSC_0387.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipSSQL1kslTHYjnd9boUgjfajXV_EuJlUJvaw__eZ3BMbZHCO1Q5ss6rHOWKT-FNZRtPHjFQZ3C0GPDsfawwFjv8XehpJ3dqDR5LPSfXvPEbw_GrRrvPgAM6nVqHXKk_yrjLM-8S_zXcXo/s400/DSC_0387.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562954242806167778" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">And yesterday I went up to Red Butte Gardens just above the University of Utah. It was interesting how the garden was still fun to walk around in, even though everything was brown and decaying.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglf3NWlkosFYvBhGuLwTnRP7puUAInB9EIOvpqXXAQBu8M3GiGEzya1CgO8W0cgIdyCdGhi0wloMPdimqZE5DikT1poyuhcjDWZkNN5N16qRMZZEKV_dVboWAQpqPPKhtJXb0mslrkRXg7/s1600/DSC_0386.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglf3NWlkosFYvBhGuLwTnRP7puUAInB9EIOvpqXXAQBu8M3GiGEzya1CgO8W0cgIdyCdGhi0wloMPdimqZE5DikT1poyuhcjDWZkNN5N16qRMZZEKV_dVboWAQpqPPKhtJXb0mslrkRXg7/s400/DSC_0386.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562954055943528386" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Red Butte Gardens again</div></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid2EahgPXnntAMD5Px_ZgMlBjF5O6ZSt6NMHnhyo1YyQJ6S0WiymYo22yoHNDVETMHXA5eCSPv5GiBAc5iOc2bc5N6IPtBGaS6JzDScyeI3ePD_8QN2K_uje4ap2i8iHyPixl8sUZ4DquM/s1600/DSC_0349.jpg"></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid2EahgPXnntAMD5Px_ZgMlBjF5O6ZSt6NMHnhyo1YyQJ6S0WiymYo22yoHNDVETMHXA5eCSPv5GiBAc5iOc2bc5N6IPtBGaS6JzDScyeI3ePD_8QN2K_uje4ap2i8iHyPixl8sUZ4DquM/s1600/DSC_0349.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid2EahgPXnntAMD5Px_ZgMlBjF5O6ZSt6NMHnhyo1YyQJ6S0WiymYo22yoHNDVETMHXA5eCSPv5GiBAc5iOc2bc5N6IPtBGaS6JzDScyeI3ePD_8QN2K_uje4ap2i8iHyPixl8sUZ4DquM/s400/DSC_0349.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562953477556280802" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Last one from Red Butte Gardens. I'll have to head back in the spring/summer, when everything is in bloom. There was just something appealing about a dead garden--</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyway, leave a comment and let me know what you think. I should be able to keep this more up to date without an insane amount of deadlines--</div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-1137400258091202162010-09-04T20:55:00.005-06:002010-09-04T21:43:40.140-06:00Vacation<div>Okay, so this past week I was able to visit my family and some friends back in Utah. It was a much needed break before school starts up. I've just been working over the summer, but after falling into the frantic routine of subway, work, subway, errands, subway, and so on, I just needed a break from the city. </div><div><br /></div><div>And I had a blast in Utah. I got to see one of my sisters and her kids, and we ended up taking a trip on the Heber Valley Railroad. We went from Heber all the way down through the Provo Canyon until Vivian Park. Along the way, we got to relax and enjoy the sights in the canyon, the Deer Creek Reservoir, and the train also got stopped by horse-riding "outlaws" (ha, one of my nieces even was taken as a "hostage").</div><div><br /></div><div>I also hung around in Provo for a day, and it was kind of surreal. It made me miss going to school there, and it made me appreciate more the good times I had there. New York is fun and all, but it's different in that everyone is so spread out--you can't just rely on the apartment complex circle-of-friends in Provo. It was fun catching up with some people that I hadn't seen in years, and just walking around the campus and the bookstore. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'll try and post some more tomorrow, but I'm pretty tired right now--it was a long day rushing home from work just in time to catch the last half of the BYU football game...</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's a few pictures from the trip (mainly of some of my nieces and nephews)--</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGyMx0rvAVYHdwyPXP2qr8we-76f_IafXxYCULWFL7abvCE_scKbFqk19m5bYsWaFF90tQiNy4C_nBH0n65IblUxHcZVvO4znkGlPEgFBfiufDGAwoXm6haXcwKxzwNImfGSw1T_Ab0csT/s400/Utah+vacation-96.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513260723945018322" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Yeah, the framing is just like the famous "American Gothic" painting, but this picture still made me laugh</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhueDbDWm1vJ4EXA1MsrUVjPriiD9vng6kMghwAXAA-j9uImI2adghe-mB8xN22AWcQyeD6CSmDc471Zd11Z5cwpcdaqAMsP4ft_I_IdFXa58DCzmGw9u9Qt7MaZPP5Iojsxhitp9aDrRQB/s1600/Utah+vacation-234.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhueDbDWm1vJ4EXA1MsrUVjPriiD9vng6kMghwAXAA-j9uImI2adghe-mB8xN22AWcQyeD6CSmDc471Zd11Z5cwpcdaqAMsP4ft_I_IdFXa58DCzmGw9u9Qt7MaZPP5Iojsxhitp9aDrRQB/s400/Utah+vacation-234.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513261958705606482" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Julia -- we were in a cemetery so my sister could look up some of her husband's ancestors, and I got to watch the baby. Which meant I just put her on the ground and let her play in the pinecones and dirt</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwnEd7JgQXLgUbzxVTfcGTm9ieJQuyIlwgSHHbAyfuldIUTfdQPiOSWrn4hdJVCIsTaT6r_5a96vPbTmuSKYyOJiIpkWzrYkz-tuzau6bRmKD_jSpZdznLsxU5H6RcPz4diMAoyHYB6uWG/s1600/Utah+vacation-212.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwnEd7JgQXLgUbzxVTfcGTm9ieJQuyIlwgSHHbAyfuldIUTfdQPiOSWrn4hdJVCIsTaT6r_5a96vPbTmuSKYyOJiIpkWzrYkz-tuzau6bRmKD_jSpZdznLsxU5H6RcPz4diMAoyHYB6uWG/s400/Utah+vacation-212.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513261949797631026" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Debbie--she looks really sad in this picture, but she was actually really enjoying the train ride. I think she was a little tired, as this was after being on the train for nearly two hours</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIExcaX6-LMucUhCq-4pQY8DKVBEHNBP8VuoAPvo9BQGjWWDEV8vddsW7YZWeQ5NO3hC8kUK8NWzuUzfVb5pqZaYiXdPibNQ8WjWuhJ3kc8AQun8MAE3P3tvFJIpxe9wT_e9ljOpuqihzO/s1600/Utah+vacation-168.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIExcaX6-LMucUhCq-4pQY8DKVBEHNBP8VuoAPvo9BQGjWWDEV8vddsW7YZWeQ5NO3hC8kUK8NWzuUzfVb5pqZaYiXdPibNQ8WjWuhJ3kc8AQun8MAE3P3tvFJIpxe9wT_e9ljOpuqihzO/s400/Utah+vacation-168.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513261941425669250" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Sara</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUGoGaNUhvqTajSDsusHKhw34LFTL3X-Cqg1sNwM8MUCJFJgVY-1re9yLuhyphenhyphenWd2clI5T41PzjRQZjst9E4cN4xmmSn79fJL3NIJzU1avTBH71TYGvcndVAlYuJ6gha50UQ3RR50D87KUXe/s1600/Utah+vacation-141.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUGoGaNUhvqTajSDsusHKhw34LFTL3X-Cqg1sNwM8MUCJFJgVY-1re9yLuhyphenhyphenWd2clI5T41PzjRQZjst9E4cN4xmmSn79fJL3NIJzU1avTBH71TYGvcndVAlYuJ6gha50UQ3RR50D87KUXe/s400/Utah+vacation-141.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513261935676958818" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Eve being taken "hostage" by the train robbers</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5o3CTzqgPld9jTIKavdCnGuUg30oHPsiUhrkhtF-AyvnloomZ7GFGVhNQxSo35vSx0D2OWeaEZiEhGRfhdbNjCISC9REkqjsauloGJ5CmKB2LBfCPY7qVr3lftJHVPNF7OPMf6MZu_P4c/s1600/Utah+vacation-20.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5o3CTzqgPld9jTIKavdCnGuUg30oHPsiUhrkhtF-AyvnloomZ7GFGVhNQxSo35vSx0D2OWeaEZiEhGRfhdbNjCISC9REkqjsauloGJ5CmKB2LBfCPY7qVr3lftJHVPNF7OPMf6MZu_P4c/s400/Utah+vacation-20.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513260709414571858" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">And the train itself -- yes, the sky really was that blue, and you can see the mountains and stuff in the background.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I'll keep digging through my pictures and see what else I can post tomorrow--</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-17224504589663144212010-08-01T21:31:00.005-06:002010-08-01T22:37:51.766-06:00Tilt-shift<div style="text-align: left;"> Okay, I've had a crazy couple of weeks, but I'm finally getting caught back up with everything. I took the comprehensive exam that is required for my master's program, and that was a bit of a nightmare. I was given one week to write two ten-page papers, but my dad was in town for the first couple of days, and then I had work. I started working on the papers on a Monday evening, and they were due Friday afternoon. Between Monday and Friday, I was getting maybe two hours of sleep a night, and then I pulled an all-nighter from Thursday to Friday to get everything done (don't forget, I still had work while all this was going on). But I was able to get everything turned in on time, and I feel pretty good about it. Ha, and to show you where my priorities are, immediately after turning in my paper, my second thought was that I should go home and sleep. I mean, on the subway ride down, I nodded off three different times for a few brief seconds, but I was paranoid that I was going to miss my stop and end up in Brooklyn. But my FIRST thought after turning in the exam was, "Hey, I'm just a few blocks away from the bookstore."</div><div><br /></div><div> So I went to the bookstore. It was one of those good idea/bad idea situations. It was good in that I was able to just relax for a bit and not worry about anything, but it was a bad idea because I almost passed out at the bookstore (trust me, I know the feeling---thanks Pere. And for those of you that don't know, the count is currently in double digits for how many times I've been knocked out, with about half of them involving incidents with my brother).</div><div><br /></div><div> And I had my birthday this past week. It was a lot of fun. Some friends and I went to the Shake Shack, and it was a joint event because another friend was moving to Utah the next day. We ended up having around thirty-five people show up. After ordering all of our food and stuff, we decided to eat outside, and it was one of those perfect evenings: mid-70s, slight breeze, and and we were sitting right next to a fountain just outside of the Museum of Natural History. </div><div> This past week, another friend took off, so a group of us went walking around down in the Financial District. I kept getting left behind because I was trying to take pictures. At one point, I saw a giant American flag hung across the front of a building, and I thought that was pretty cool. About an hour or so later, we went walking past the same building and I realized that it was the New York Stock Exchange. I tried not to let everyone know that I was completely clueless about the various historical sites around us, but it was still a lot of fun. Things eventually led to one of those awkward moments. My friend Molly was leaving the city the very next day, so she was trying to finish getting rid of various things. She asked if I wanted some rolling storage drawers, and I figured I could probably use them. So she said, "I guess that means you're going to have to come home with me tonight." .... Yeah, everyone was laughing pretty hard with that one. Oh, and I also I got to try out my birthday present as we were all walking around--it's a tilt-shift lens that I have been having entirely way too much fun with. Some pictures below--</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDov-MsNJdyMQfu62XLGXS6b4YzIYfb3TYhNV3xOWj0Eeq6BDgxtYXQ5ZmMq4ECNcRI5FvzkL1cqbh-WcKgrjg-oG8qOTDaY_CyyjGCaPTl0jxuedqAeGD66i7b5uu8r-4Ty-lzZ3kEYB5/s400/tilt-6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500666606801929170" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Just outside the Shake Shack</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxzXWOBvg3xLFXbG5xYpQvDtCbSTKF4S4AVeMQnygtSSR7rWwl3ehQ6bWDRicsPyEdEoos5oHDIm6rd7YkyvvX2oH5C68_urg_B0FMjFJpFgK3Ja2vkW2hyyAFdArLSKoH0NpkPS02VbG0/s1600/Walking-20.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxzXWOBvg3xLFXbG5xYpQvDtCbSTKF4S4AVeMQnygtSSR7rWwl3ehQ6bWDRicsPyEdEoos5oHDIm6rd7YkyvvX2oH5C68_urg_B0FMjFJpFgK3Ja2vkW2hyyAFdArLSKoH0NpkPS02VbG0/s400/Walking-20.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500651930185675810" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">While we were eating dinner -- kind of random, but whatever</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6SQwzMxm65_pBNtyDDeypkDg45BJ3Wa67COrxookNcgS8wlDqGLyPW6qmyJlcMlV4scRrX7O1-P8Y31TJhniK9mIh6QEb5dC9i10xLK8PEuhy-T7gRclQHEMhYRjJraAjECmYvU9NHCSk/s1600/Walking-7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6SQwzMxm65_pBNtyDDeypkDg45BJ3Wa67COrxookNcgS8wlDqGLyPW6qmyJlcMlV4scRrX7O1-P8Y31TJhniK9mIh6QEb5dC9i10xLK8PEuhy-T7gRclQHEMhYRjJraAjECmYvU9NHCSk/s400/Walking-7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500651475797426130" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Molly -- </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuC9s_7aB3PXwDgccAWZiU__dyrYsz2Y_4F_U0WTtuYpQtUzr-W8F2i_qsPs1vRe5hiDMBPvbjFWWb89PSKPJU6u5lL8bL8Y5y5EwQ_wcWe-tFIIXK6GQZyavfktD0JtDOwFqL-VQaeMY/s1600/Walking-4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuC9s_7aB3PXwDgccAWZiU__dyrYsz2Y_4F_U0WTtuYpQtUzr-W8F2i_qsPs1vRe5hiDMBPvbjFWWb89PSKPJU6u5lL8bL8Y5y5EwQ_wcWe-tFIIXK6GQZyavfktD0JtDOwFqL-VQaeMY/s400/Walking-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500651467430750450" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Neesha -- this lens makes for some interesting portraits because of the way it blurs parts of the image</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72sggFX7vsSp_bagGJYhY6T_1YhoJ8dmr-2-8vXFkkWXHEcO11tBHj8TbPKuftoKrRQ2HSZ5ya-Vf3uMMXbsJNUzdhDRcY5g5caqWegVx0GLSpxjgaKnDx4bcD2sg-ExtQXd7tR_LAME5/s1600/tilt-13.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72sggFX7vsSp_bagGJYhY6T_1YhoJ8dmr-2-8vXFkkWXHEcO11tBHj8TbPKuftoKrRQ2HSZ5ya-Vf3uMMXbsJNUzdhDRcY5g5caqWegVx0GLSpxjgaKnDx4bcD2sg-ExtQXd7tR_LAME5/s400/tilt-13.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500651459840973682" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Also outside of the Shake Shack, waiting for everyone to show up</div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyway, don't forget to leave some comments--</div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-59664672027617387442010-06-30T13:34:00.003-06:002010-06-30T14:05:41.771-06:00Piano on the Pier<div>Things have been going pretty well this past week or so. I started training at my new job, and I'm really enjoying it. Even if I don't know what I'm supposed to do yet, I'm trying to learn as quickly as possible. A large part of my day yesterday involved answering the phones, stating the company name, and then asking the person how I could help them. I just kept writing down everything they talked about, and at a good opportunity I'd politely ask them to wait while I put them on hold. As soon as I put the phone down, I'd just explain to the closest manager what the person needed, and they'd tell me what to do after that. It seemed to work well enough, and the customers didn't seem to know that their customer service rep (me) was completely clueless. </div><div><br /></div><div>I also found a couple of the pianos for the "Play Me, I'm Yours" art project here in the city. I know I mentioned it in my last post, but I still think it's really interesting. There are around sixty pianos scattered throughout the city in parks and plazas, and me and some of my friends came across one on the pier by 72nd Street (towards the Hudson River). It was a lot of fun just listening to different people play in public. Skill level didn't matter. Several elementary school kids wanted to play Chopsticks and Heart & Soul, while another guy performed a 15 minute jazz improv. And yes, I got to play for a little bit too. It was fun, but I wish I could remember my songs better--I completely forgot the last half of two different songs.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9z-iZ6IlruXK0uZt0BJm_4lHquYLnmolBBUuoOY34D6cQMcorA2r8S0ROitHBSyFCLQLrtL6btFoUhSMgxY6CjpohWVjSSEZtXeUhDvHZZH4dWUdsBY1O6m2QM0SWLqgb3nis9p5gv59/s1600/Pier.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9z-iZ6IlruXK0uZt0BJm_4lHquYLnmolBBUuoOY34D6cQMcorA2r8S0ROitHBSyFCLQLrtL6btFoUhSMgxY6CjpohWVjSSEZtXeUhDvHZZH4dWUdsBY1O6m2QM0SWLqgb3nis9p5gv59/s400/Pier.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488653287131439218" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Josh -- you can see how close to the river it is, and how random people just stop and listen</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjic2-75M0bOkmDpC3DQInwmDscj4qbJg3h8aK6u4bEsnqIgyYN66mJzwULEc4_sfbxwNDeh85bYwacjvLXfVEJ23xaL0SA1AjwJx3Cjy3DNEs3lt07TMoF5YTkxqbcpwgJ-R0oPe_dy9Y8/s1600/Pier-4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjic2-75M0bOkmDpC3DQInwmDscj4qbJg3h8aK6u4bEsnqIgyYN66mJzwULEc4_sfbxwNDeh85bYwacjvLXfVEJ23xaL0SA1AjwJx3Cjy3DNEs3lt07TMoF5YTkxqbcpwgJ-R0oPe_dy9Y8/s400/Pier-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488653275285492658" /></a><br /></div><div>And kind of a funny story. I feel bad about it now, but it was still pretty funny (my sarcastic side came out very unexpectedly...). It was a girl's birthday this past Friday, so a group of us went out to this one restaurant for cheesecake. The girl just turned 27, and all of us hung out and talked for awhile. I got home a little after midnight, and when I got on Facebook, I saw that the birthday girl was online. So just being dumb, I was like, "Do you realize now you're closer to turning 54 than you are to your birth?" Immediately after sending the message, I was like, "WHY did I just say that?" </div><div> The next day, I was watching the soccer game at a friend's house when the birthday girl walked in. The very first thing she said was "Jon called me old on my birthday." Of course everyone wanted to know what happened, and I put up a very poor defense ("It wasn't her birthday when I said it..."). We were all laughing about it. Well, a little later, I was trying to tell a story, and this girl just said, "I'm sorry, what?" I started the story again, and she stopped me again, saying, "What'd you say?" I tried telling the story a third time, and she was like, "You'll have to speak up, I'm getting a little hard of hearing." ---Yeah, she got me pretty good with that one, and once again everyone was laughing. </div><div> Later that night, I had a group of people over to watch a movie, and she came over as well. At one point she made some comment (I can't remember what it was), and then she said, "Oh, I shouldn't say that--I'm being rude." Without missing a beat (and apparently, without thinking), I said, "That's okay, old people have a right to complain." ....Once again, I was just like, "WHY ON EARTH did I just say that?!"</div><div> I think it would only make it worse to mention that this is a girl I took out on a date last week...Anyway, I will really be trying to be careful about making sarcastic comments. Sure, people might laugh about it, and they know you're not being serious, but there's a reason you feel bad after making a comment like that. </div><div><br /></div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-86056500209127820342010-06-22T22:14:00.003-06:002010-06-22T22:46:31.514-06:00End of the job hunt<div style="text-align: left;">Just a brief post for now. I got a job! A friend of mine mentioned that his company was hiring, so I figured I better submit an application. I thought the interview went okay, but not great. I left thinking, "Well, maybe something else will come through." So imagine my surprise when I got off the subway a little while later to hear a voicemail extending me the job. And yes, I did call them back, and it wasn't a fluke. I have an orientation meeting tomorrow, and it looks like I'll probably start next week. It's for a company called <a href="http://www.westelm.com/">West Elm</a>, which is part of Williams Sonoma Inc. It should help me get through grad school.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">To relax/celebrate, I decided to do a random photo-walk through Riverside Park. I was really wanting to get down to the 140th Street area, because of this: <a href="http://www.streetpianos.com/nyc2010/">http://www.streetpianos.com/nyc2010</a>/ I thought it would make for some fun photo opportunities, and I also thought I might play a song or two. Why not? I almost made it down there, but the walk was a little farther than I was expecting. I wasn't tired or anything, it was more the fact that the sun was going down and it was starting to rain. I'll try again on Thursday. I did manage to find a couple of other things along the way--</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-Rgc-W7m4g1yp_s5e8QaciDZ6Rn5fHSxoe6m6QE9YAVcx7mP2qq7604Yunnp2KHyOCtRgiKZ4Oy97mOJgcm7DZQyERZPoC3oGTjFQFMyAMAamQSFVpPhc6eHamOidZxpscPhnRnVuuZM/s1600/park-2.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-Rgc-W7m4g1yp_s5e8QaciDZ6Rn5fHSxoe6m6QE9YAVcx7mP2qq7604Yunnp2KHyOCtRgiKZ4Oy97mOJgcm7DZQyERZPoC3oGTjFQFMyAMAamQSFVpPhc6eHamOidZxpscPhnRnVuuZM/s400/park-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485818566102152626" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm still trying to train my eye to look at things tonally. I really love black & white photography, but I'm still trying to get the hang of it. Out of about 30 pictures that were "supposed" to be b&w, only two or three looked right desaturated. And then only one of them felt comfortable as a composition. I need to practice more</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglfZcSOtolhL-wMKvnQOdwLKIyY8Xjh-zYPIZqeklnH3azAwVTzZrhhxR6xpm2YRfgofyqHXkv-UFyC6QLaz5hBn_nKkLEyntB0cgTjzC2uAbQSRnjbLnX5CptEwW3Rsu1-HU_HVk8TV7X/s1600/park.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglfZcSOtolhL-wMKvnQOdwLKIyY8Xjh-zYPIZqeklnH3azAwVTzZrhhxR6xpm2YRfgofyqHXkv-UFyC6QLaz5hBn_nKkLEyntB0cgTjzC2uAbQSRnjbLnX5CptEwW3Rsu1-HU_HVk8TV7X/s400/park.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485818558629689506" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">It was a pain trying to get this shot. I didn't have a tripod with me, and I was trying to find a happy medium in shutter speeds so that the water had a motion blur while the rest of the image stayed sharp. But it was late in the day and the sky was overcast, which meant that I had to use a slow shutter speed (I think this was around 1/40 or 1/50). Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but I was also shooting at f/2.2. I kept shaking while I took the picture, and the depth of field was so narrow that I kept getting one bad picture after another. This was the best of that set, but it's still a touch soft </div><div><br /></div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-44070438985062986182010-06-20T19:20:00.005-06:002010-06-20T20:13:20.273-06:00Sailing<div style="text-align: left;">Not too much has really been happening these past couple of weeks. I've been trying to find a job here in the city, which has been interesting to say the least. It's been pretty tough, but something will come through. I had an informal interview on Thursday that I thought went pretty well, and they said they would let me know by Monday or Tuesday. I'll keep applying wherever can though.</div><div><br /></div><div>Aside from applying for jobs, I've been having fun catching some World Cup games here and there. Some of the games were pretty boring (England-Algeria, 0-0 draw...), while others were really exciting. Of course I'm talking mainly about the USA-Slovenia game. And what a game it was! I almost stopped watching at halftime. The USA played a pretty miserable first half, and found themselves down 2-0. I'm glad I decided to finish watching the game though, because it turned out to be an exciting comeback that ended in a 2-2 draw (and who says draws are boring?!). Sure, everyone still thinks the last goal should have counted (if you've seen any highlights whatsoever, you already know what I'm talking about...the potentially game-winning goal with just four minutes left to play that was disallowed by the ref), but aside from that, it was still a fun game to watch. </div><div><br /></div><div>And yesterday I went sailing for the first time. A good friend of mine (i.e., my bishop) is part of a sailing club, and he invited several of us to go sailing out in Echo Bay/Long Island Sound. We had a blast. I enjoyed everything about it: the sights along the coastline (the Bayer House, as in Bayer Aspirin; the Gatsby house; Executioner's Rock, etc.), coasting along with just the wind, admiring the multi-million dollar yachts that passed by, and just goofing off with everyone (word of advice: don't tell a group of guys you need to be back by a certain time 'cause you're taking a girl out on a date...a large part of the conversation on the four-hour trip revolved around questions like, "What's her name? Where's she from? What's she doing in the city? Where are you going on your date? Where are you going on your second date? Oh, so you're taking her there? Here's what you do: take her out to eat at restaurant overlooking the river...the sun will be setting over the river about that time...it'll be a great view...after you guys are done eating, sit on a bench overlooking the river, hold her hand and cuddle..." And so on, and so on---good times). </div><div><br /></div><div>I even got to steer the boat for awhile, even though I gave everyone a good scare several times...I kept getting things mixed up as to how to turn the boat left and right, resulting in some very sharp, unexpected turns which caused everyone on the boat to jump to their feet. I couldn't tell if they were trying to avoid the boom swinging across the deck, or if they were ready to jump out of the boat. One of my friends was commenting that it was just surprising to be coasting along, only to feel the boat start to swerve drastically and his elbow is all of a sudden in the water...But it was a lot of fun (for me anyway. Of course, that does explain why several people were feeling queasy afterwards, while I was feeling just fine).</div><div><br /></div><div>And they did get me back in time for my date. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR_ONYSTCVZEU_SnRb9oQgraPFcki3wfuneWSkgpUOg8kBAbECKQHWV3Bu-G-4zXi2hI_zEmJ5RpMqL4sWHssw-biOCyraB-BXRlSQRDH1_b1wWpxQ0IElACqXrTzasNl5NLJ75_YyKmof/s400/sailing+-+cope.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485032358588876802" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /><div style="text-align: center;">Matt -- one of the first comments I made as soon as we started sailing was to bring up the obligatory What About Bob? quote: "I'm sailing!...I sail, I'm a sailor...ahoy!"</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-SoLK0jgVVCJ0ABZyzNJuj7isYYgLLA0zBmFLwrWILiSaS0_eZW7C4ERsH8CMTKyV0SJR9MQNhaxJDuqrojYQ1HI6HkfSPn_NrSzK9CbY9CO3FIRPkDXG0wBJts2nGnn0vpqDI-lcOzUz/s1600/sailing.jpg"></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-SoLK0jgVVCJ0ABZyzNJuj7isYYgLLA0zBmFLwrWILiSaS0_eZW7C4ERsH8CMTKyV0SJR9MQNhaxJDuqrojYQ1HI6HkfSPn_NrSzK9CbY9CO3FIRPkDXG0wBJts2nGnn0vpqDI-lcOzUz/s1600/sailing.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-SoLK0jgVVCJ0ABZyzNJuj7isYYgLLA0zBmFLwrWILiSaS0_eZW7C4ERsH8CMTKyV0SJR9MQNhaxJDuqrojYQ1HI6HkfSPn_NrSzK9CbY9CO3FIRPkDXG0wBJts2nGnn0vpqDI-lcOzUz/s400/sailing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485032309307076242" style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Me taking a turn at the till -- with the previously mentioned sharp turns, I'm still surprised my camera didn't end up in the water</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSqQ7qnfXOYcXe0FWbVo51zgm8ExkVCC0-qvi9aq40eb4BUy90n-fpnDHL-aDJBBQgS-U4WMvtTInbMdiAo95kUEQ4VflxcvZz2myUfm0KWjuTZtitWr9VceWLAaYMserDv1-J_qj0YIGu/s1600/sailing+-+group-2.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSqQ7qnfXOYcXe0FWbVo51zgm8ExkVCC0-qvi9aq40eb4BUy90n-fpnDHL-aDJBBQgS-U4WMvtTInbMdiAo95kUEQ4VflxcvZz2myUfm0KWjuTZtitWr9VceWLAaYMserDv1-J_qj0YIGu/s400/sailing+-+group-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485036564087926786" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Me and Matt</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo5H0hMCsvl_EmUiusM0IclVNOG2iCKJqG4GTL-N1cEu0C2_aa9LGAS0e0LqcqciHEVjhf3uTYkfsEND6RG6H3kzZ9Y165caEwSAZT6NZC0f5YuLYVEDd2HmoNZneFJqKRNm6Y0W2UR6Kf/s1600/sailing+-+group.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo5H0hMCsvl_EmUiusM0IclVNOG2iCKJqG4GTL-N1cEu0C2_aa9LGAS0e0LqcqciHEVjhf3uTYkfsEND6RG6H3kzZ9Y165caEwSAZT6NZC0f5YuLYVEDd2HmoNZneFJqKRNm6Y0W2UR6Kf/s400/sailing+-+group.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485036523504493298" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Jordan and Mike</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1vzIo4kR0FSbnC0O2rowYs2GnCtwrgQywTCrt2T-anZpJOrrfya5NlhSC3fc2T5MxfOzCRl3ioz1xqOhbtvmO1613XajIb_itWCBwXqBXEu-vfnuSvfBkXX8Up5bk3hbWyQuPrOpFdqGR/s1600/sailing+-+jordan-2.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1vzIo4kR0FSbnC0O2rowYs2GnCtwrgQywTCrt2T-anZpJOrrfya5NlhSC3fc2T5MxfOzCRl3ioz1xqOhbtvmO1613XajIb_itWCBwXqBXEu-vfnuSvfBkXX8Up5bk3hbWyQuPrOpFdqGR/s400/sailing+-+jordan-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485032382848537522" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Jordan -- I forget why he had such an intense look on his face</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_gliwQKdC4-XMDt7vh2xxBa5oIjdG3yqoEwtHOE5T2ya_7jtnjozNiCAJ8c6_8vIOkwZkpxO3250g5692RtjcOT8qqkNqcOyb_4C1W_nHJysCnJ5Uz5UFlj71THbavdqq_7b25q-LWeQT/s1600/sailing+-+bishop.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_gliwQKdC4-XMDt7vh2xxBa5oIjdG3yqoEwtHOE5T2ya_7jtnjozNiCAJ8c6_8vIOkwZkpxO3250g5692RtjcOT8qqkNqcOyb_4C1W_nHJysCnJ5Uz5UFlj71THbavdqq_7b25q-LWeQT/s400/sailing+-+bishop.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485033488802693010" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Erik</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAIxPUsSggqOTePKR1KLzfvuTO9ur-8zDwiq3yGl9iF7RuedwmIEQ3DHlVg5LFC92yFyJTKmjEHhLvxAc2GBOMyBajaJE7bjXgSIHFIbwWgkD4IxuoCYlAblYzMGQnvF0qGhygssZLzNbq/s400/sailing+-+stuff.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485033502643388946" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Me goofing off, trying to be artistic -- I was taking more snapshots throughout the day, not worrying about composition and everything. Come to think of it, I only took two or three of the pictures in this post because we just kept passing the camera around</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-33483409942628217752010-05-19T13:43:00.002-06:002010-05-19T14:07:38.713-06:00CheeseburgerOkay, so I was out running errands with my dad, and we had just made our last stop. He told me to call mom to see if she wanted us to pick up some lunch on the way home. Well, she had actually just finished making some stuff for us, so we were just going to head home. However, as soon as I hung up, my dad laughs and says, "You still want a cheeseburger, don't you?" This is really his way of saying, "I'm hungry now, so let's get a dollar cheeseburger and if mom asks about anything, I'll just say you were hungry...."<div><br /></div><div>Yeah, we caved in and got two small cheeseburgers on the way home. We pull up into the driveway, and my dad laughs again and says, "Great! Now trash goes in the bag, we hide the evidence, and <i>don't tell Mom!" </i>That got me laughing, because whenever he would say, "Don't tell mom!" growing up, it usually meant we had done something pretty bad (setting something on fire, ruining a meal, someone got hurt, and the list could go on). So I was having a really hard time keeping a straight face walking in the door, and I would have been fine, except the first thing my dad says walking inside was, "Boy, I'm starving!"</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know, something about the way he said it, and the sneaky way we were trying to put the trash in the garbage can without making a noise---I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing (I have a terrible poker face...). Even during the prayer over the meal, I could hear my dad laughing silently about the whole thing. Sure, it was just a cheeseburger, but at the time it was the funniest thing to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been laughing a lot with my parents these past couple of days. I was remembering all of these random events from growing up in Georgia, and I'm just realizing more and more that I didn't have a "normal" childhood (normal maybe for the South, but boy do my friends act surprised that I'm still alive with all the crazy stuff I used to do). Just one story will do for now (and this isn't just me...my siblings and I believe some of my cousins were there for this incident...I think it was the Cutlers, but I'm not sure). My mom was out running some errands, leaving us kids alone in the house. We started playing around with a superball in the living room, just throwing it against the brick fireplace and bouncing it around a little. I can't remember who suggested it, but someone pointed up at the ceiling fan. So we proceeded to throw the ball up into the fan (which was at its highest setting) and laugh hysterically as it ricocheted off the walls. We continued doing this for a little while (15 minutes? 30 minutes?). But then the inevitable happened---the superball shot off and hit a picture hanging on the wall. Of course, this was also the moment that my mom was just pulling into the driveway...Thinking quickly, my older siblings and some of my cousins took the picture off the wall, pulled all of the broken glass out, and then hung it back up.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was a good three or four years before my mom ever found out. She always had us kids do the dusting in the living room, and it's not like we were going to just outright say, "There ain't any glass in this picture here!"</div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-20489504428555454332010-05-06T19:07:00.006-06:002010-05-06T20:01:58.041-06:00Summer Vacation<div>I finally finished all of my papers, and I can now relax for a little bit. This semester actually went a lot better than the last one. I was able to sleep for a few hours here and there as I tried to finish all of my papers, and I'm pleased with the work I did. I'm going to start looking for a job in the next few weeks, which should be a pretty interesting experience here in the city. </div><div><br /></div><div>And as for other stuff, I had quite a few "not at BYU anymore" moments this past semester, most of which were pretty funny. One week in my Television History class, we watched an episode of the Smothers Brothers. At one point, one of the characters said "s***" which was a big thing that kind of slipped through the censors (ironic, since we were talking about how an entire portion of the episode was cut at the last second because of its anti-Vietnam stance). The following week, we were discussing the episode in class, and one girl asked, "Now, did anyone else hear the word s*** during the episode?" Someone else chimed in, "No, nobody said s***." Even the professor remarked, "Hmm...I'm not sure if someone said s***. That's kind of a big thing to slip by the censors."</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, I remembered exactly where the word had been said because it was so out of place with the rest of the show. So I called out, "It was during the spoof on Bonanza. The guest star said the 's' word." .....There was an awkward silence in the room. Then the professor said, "Ooh...the 's' word." Everyone started laughing hysterically (myself included), which caused me to call out, "Sorry! I don't swear!" which led to even more fits of laughter from the class. And that's what I call a "not at BYU anymore" moment.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, here's a few pictures I was able to take before the semester got too crazy. I'll be taking some more now that I have some downtime, but these will have to do for now.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9XF5RaxOwM_bWyR4FEY954i-XwdHJjlpeBOlredVPJwxWsvsuLUy3F4ie17CMXVJQtE_jUn0vsdVptxtoHaIlwJyKdizNzYuSRv7pS_Ve6z8cDmlTJo27sQxhchqWKhB_q78x3J4Hih7O/s1600/George+Washington+Bridge-111.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9XF5RaxOwM_bWyR4FEY954i-XwdHJjlpeBOlredVPJwxWsvsuLUy3F4ie17CMXVJQtE_jUn0vsdVptxtoHaIlwJyKdizNzYuSRv7pS_Ve6z8cDmlTJo27sQxhchqWKhB_q78x3J4Hih7O/s400/George+Washington+Bridge-111.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468333543214852338" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Five minutes away from my house, there's a small trail that walks alongside some railroad tracks. This fence is supposed to keep people out, and I just thought it was interesting</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOnSy1ctHISdKMhy8RfrbOaKklYixw-jnvlBn-zgYhcqnh5TZRw0WGZerfNaBxZHAOAPLKardiRahijTr5tofKOA2pQeTF0Hkg42ufIR7Kn-BJ2qG6PpViAI9kmD9J6bAvUpEzLaKFL3Ta/s1600/George+Washington+Bridge-60.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOnSy1ctHISdKMhy8RfrbOaKklYixw-jnvlBn-zgYhcqnh5TZRw0WGZerfNaBxZHAOAPLKardiRahijTr5tofKOA2pQeTF0Hkg42ufIR7Kn-BJ2qG6PpViAI9kmD9J6bAvUpEzLaKFL3Ta/s400/George+Washington+Bridge-60.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468332974766065874" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Riverside Park -- I have three different parks within walking distance of my apartment, and they each have their own unique quirks. This park led me right by the Little Red Lighthouse, which is apparently the last remaining lighthouse on Manhattan Island. </div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ylP-vgerZUwBnFNuxBXbpszYsOdYTw7ESkpS8DFC7HfUnRIzBxXR1GM4D5eapQqSeSzMVJ9afpKGry53kFxLbxH2hXxnCFT_AqjukBq_fmyZpRGmV2jU5_DK1L2G820mJglPc9y8ebfS/s1600/George+Washington+Bridge-23.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ylP-vgerZUwBnFNuxBXbpszYsOdYTw7ESkpS8DFC7HfUnRIzBxXR1GM4D5eapQqSeSzMVJ9afpKGry53kFxLbxH2hXxnCFT_AqjukBq_fmyZpRGmV2jU5_DK1L2G820mJglPc9y8ebfS/s400/George+Washington+Bridge-23.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468332967105491042" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Riverside Park -- I was trying to get the bike riders to be just out of focus, but my hand slipped when I was about to take the picture. By the time I re-composed, the bike riders were already almost out of view. Oh well</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIk99GI00o3Glxe6eHS5k0g7ew27u6Uq87_2ahECJOpFP1T5BNdTriORN2mSO0rz9z-rB4kDRgOpgfP1gE7sKUfpFn5XDK09Ref4XY7LNXzDDiST9lHDdZwfFZqVHQJlxPBPe6VCHraC6n/s1600/George+Washington+Bridge-3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIk99GI00o3Glxe6eHS5k0g7ew27u6Uq87_2ahECJOpFP1T5BNdTriORN2mSO0rz9z-rB4kDRgOpgfP1gE7sKUfpFn5XDK09Ref4XY7LNXzDDiST9lHDdZwfFZqVHQJlxPBPe6VCHraC6n/s400/George+Washington+Bridge-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468332312349609986" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This piece of grass is about ten square feet, and it is more than a hundred yards from the nearest apartment. Who was raking, and why did they just give up and leave the rake there?</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22BzghV7eUhHbrPx8ntU8CUBNyrp1Up68V6IfK_aUt82sOioUnpelPqWiKT6dAni0Or5ElD6QhpisRu6pllGnSsn_Khyspe-f-jXNzhBAM1Z9DSXzyG4rZh6H_zZJThEJZahZk-sJfhzF/s1600/Friday.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22BzghV7eUhHbrPx8ntU8CUBNyrp1Up68V6IfK_aUt82sOioUnpelPqWiKT6dAni0Or5ElD6QhpisRu6pllGnSsn_Khyspe-f-jXNzhBAM1Z9DSXzyG4rZh6H_zZJThEJZahZk-sJfhzF/s400/Friday.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468329715320163506" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Just some mailboxes across the street from Tisch</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ciDxNkamxgo-ZNEPS-zsxxlWxwsgdZmyZDTekJHMq9mpSzuFRLWbgjhH-5eYB6SWjBMmRcDhmW1oLr1LU9D110Mqk891ImWhjwSoYk0S6fC1_fnCjyzjF4F0psQNiZ4-40uqOHJFG6kn/s1600/Evening-19.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ciDxNkamxgo-ZNEPS-zsxxlWxwsgdZmyZDTekJHMq9mpSzuFRLWbgjhH-5eYB6SWjBMmRcDhmW1oLr1LU9D110Mqk891ImWhjwSoYk0S6fC1_fnCjyzjF4F0psQNiZ4-40uqOHJFG6kn/s400/Evening-19.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468329708946708146" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I didn't realize until just now that this picture has nausea-inducing saturation--I'll have to dial that down a bit, but I'm not worried about it now </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilQRGPcj_f2gq13DFs-_tbZqBisWM5A09PmR6Ovqhjp4SM_KvU3EwxPbkyzwmUnNjqHBV-HWpo3cnDL63OmePxNA4KltJtmtlnpl0W83Xo1kNg1oDy7mtHjfF4V6I6mNWqhzu7kKce196p/s1600/Alex-11.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilQRGPcj_f2gq13DFs-_tbZqBisWM5A09PmR6Ovqhjp4SM_KvU3EwxPbkyzwmUnNjqHBV-HWpo3cnDL63OmePxNA4KltJtmtlnpl0W83Xo1kNg1oDy7mtHjfF4V6I6mNWqhzu7kKce196p/s400/Alex-11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468329699979356082" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Alex -- this picture was extremely difficult to take, just because he was moving around a lot as he was playing. I kind of like how his fingers are blurred from the motion, and just a tiny part of the strings is in focus</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-32673695261480353222010-04-11T16:16:00.010-06:002010-04-12T00:32:37.945-06:00Inspector 42 -- Emmy Winner<div style="text-align: left;">Last night, "Inspector 42" won two College Television Awards (aka, the student Emmys). It won the 1st Place Award for Drama, as well as the Directing award--I believe those went to my friends Lyvia Martinez (the producer) and Nathan Lee (the director). A huge congratulations to both of them! The film also won a Bronze Award for Excellence in the Craft of Filmmaking last year, which was for the outstanding cinematography of Derek Pueblo.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLn885FebjEv0kOhDwHwwcst-Y1WhChVd_W7R4qqG_kfSoKQm0x_ukSFI7HgNSkqPldsLCnvO3_5dm7jZsGlPJD2f9MqnCDWcJjZ4wKsULZGGdmxoK1WUaiP_9l7gcvlNlF2of4NgDKQZT/s1600/inspector+42+146.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLn885FebjEv0kOhDwHwwcst-Y1WhChVd_W7R4qqG_kfSoKQm0x_ukSFI7HgNSkqPldsLCnvO3_5dm7jZsGlPJD2f9MqnCDWcJjZ4wKsULZGGdmxoK1WUaiP_9l7gcvlNlF2of4NgDKQZT/s400/inspector+42+146.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459118098026969410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 279px; height: 400px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Nathan Lee -- on the set of Inspector 42</div><div><br /></div><div>And I realized that I should probably talk a little bit more about the actual production. I am even going to post some behind-the-scenes pictures (I uploaded them onto Facebook last year, and I completely forgot to post any here on the blog).</div><div><br /></div><div>As I said in my previous post, the shoot was extremely ambitious, but it paid off in the end. At the time, I just remember thinking how insane the production was going to be, and being on edge leading up to the shoot, wondering if everything was actually going to come together. And I was just the transportation coordinator--I could only imagine how nervous Nathan, Lyvia, Whitney (the production designer), and the rest of the key personnel must have been. </div><div><br /></div><div>Just to give you an idea: the film is set in the 1950s, which required a lot of work to make everything feel authentic. The film follows a shirt inspector (hence the title, Inspector 42) who begins to use defective shirts to fill quotas. The shirts then cause havoc in the community, as loose threads get caught in machinery, on window ledges, and so on. This results in some serious repercussions with friendships, a romance, and the lives of the people around Inspector 42. It's a nice metaphor that is played subtly: how often do we have "loose threads" in our lives, little secrets that come back to hurt ourselves and those around us? Things unravel and tear apart, exposing the fragile creatures underneath. </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghKDOe2NvgKvr882QWHfcxRYR01JY5guGCxGJ7Hdzu6PeK_C_WEeakfPtZS9izoafW9zNtcdS3ugszWtNbZ5Xid20EiXgLDEBM8XckV-1HirA9EBBba0oCCAP2M-WZebIHP3pn_Z3HwrSy/s1600/inspector+42+137.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghKDOe2NvgKvr882QWHfcxRYR01JY5guGCxGJ7Hdzu6PeK_C_WEeakfPtZS9izoafW9zNtcdS3ugszWtNbZ5Xid20EiXgLDEBM8XckV-1HirA9EBBba0oCCAP2M-WZebIHP3pn_Z3HwrSy/s400/inspector+42+137.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459118090439022114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Alexis Wardle - "Seamstress 61" </div><div style="text-align: center;">Notice the colors of the outfits here--the designers had to look at things tonally, trying to determine how things would translate to black and white</div><div><br /></div><div>The film was shot for black and white. I don't know the exact workflow, but I believe it was shot on color film first and then desaturated in post-production (I think...I know they talked about it during the production meetings, but I wasn't absorbing every detail about the cinematography).</div><div>Now for the fun stuff. An entire shirt factory had to be created, involving shirts, sewing machines, workstations, and costumes for everyone (not to mention the background props like chalkboards and signs with the company goals/quotas). The scene also had to be carefully lit, especially since the camera would be moving around at times, weaving in and around the workstations, following the storage bins and racks as they moved around the factory.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8CHzvEiHsllJ_cWG1kBYmnWWOol50lB9B__gpEozWm6X3OZSeOFXbe7GeBu_VsxLPFyUUezujiUgAKTh8ulYgWswT_2KCd4VrPK6HV_Olc5neWkv7D_xTAFs3YyUjyZ8hG6KIwWB26or/s1600/inspector+42+025.jpg" style="text-decoration: none; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8CHzvEiHsllJ_cWG1kBYmnWWOol50lB9B__gpEozWm6X3OZSeOFXbe7GeBu_VsxLPFyUUezujiUgAKTh8ulYgWswT_2KCd4VrPK6HV_Olc5neWkv7D_xTAFs3YyUjyZ8hG6KIwWB26or/s400/inspector+42+025.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459115397711647314" style="text-align: left; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">One of the extras -- sadly, I can't remember his name</div><div><br /></div><div>And as I said in my earlier post, an entire city block in downtown Salt Lake City had to be turned into the 1950s, which led to one of the craziest days of filming. The buildings themselves were already period-ready, but then cars needed to be brought in, some stationary, and others moving (that was my job, coordinating the cars). It required dozens and dozens of phone calls to track down classic car owners in the Utah area who would be willing to volunteer their time and vehicles (it was a student project after all--so apart from lunch and gas reimbursement, there wasn't much we could offer). On top of that, schedules had to be coordinated so that the cars showed up at a specific time, and hoping like crazy it didn't rain that day.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8CHzvEiHsllJ_cWG1kBYmnWWOol50lB9B__gpEozWm6X3OZSeOFXbe7GeBu_VsxLPFyUUezujiUgAKTh8ulYgWswT_2KCd4VrPK6HV_Olc5neWkv7D_xTAFs3YyUjyZ8hG6KIwWB26or/s1600/inspector+42+025.jpg"><br /></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Aa3UrVlp1JMHBwkjgiY_dKMlKB69xkSJ06ljNoFGnuvefxRlkOUOnznHPsE7l74gBZWIRGjLL5WHs_Q4o7LUYSu7BegPeoLieqgK7ZVZ9cWz-fY0ijdspsy5IWA1xlc7P1WOOaRRcLsV/s1600/inspector+42+001.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Aa3UrVlp1JMHBwkjgiY_dKMlKB69xkSJ06ljNoFGnuvefxRlkOUOnznHPsE7l74gBZWIRGjLL5WHs_Q4o7LUYSu7BegPeoLieqgK7ZVZ9cWz-fY0ijdspsy5IWA1xlc7P1WOOaRRcLsV/s400/inspector+42+001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459114421960258898" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">One of the classic cars -- a 1947 Ford Super Deluxe</div><br /><div>One of the scenes also required a process trailer, where one of the antique cars would be loaded on a trailer, allowing the actor to play his part without having to actually worry about driving. We couldn't afford an actual process trailer, which sits low to the ground (one company had a trailer that came just six inches of the ground, with enough room for the camera to be placed around the vehicle). It would have cost around $700 for a single day, plus insurance, plus a police escort (the companies required a police presence to direct traffic).</div><div><br /></div><div>Instead, we used a U-Haul trailer. It sat higher off the ground (around 20 inches, I believe), but Derek Pueblo worked some cinematographic magic to create the illusion that it sat lower. I will say too, there was a moment where my heart skipped a beat, when we were loading the antique car onto the trailer. As the car was being loaded onto the trailer, the actor that was driving (I was going to drive it, but I needed to focus on making it secure) accidentally gunned it a little too much. Imagine my sheer terror seeing a 1957 Ford Thunderbird ride up out of the wheel well, mere inches from sailing off the trailer. I don't know how it managed to stay on the trailer, but it did--we nervously laughed, secured the wheels, and kept right on shooting. We tried to get twelve cars, but only ended up with four (a fifth car--an antique police car--was used on a different day). Once again, with some careful placement and rearranging between shots, those few cars seemed to multiply. </div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLI7ktSsvDD53Zi4PbgaCBYrN-SD_Cvc35LuN7ClyggAOYET-SvqwYcFT4gkinP2ewWfVRJG3vykICuYPCUOP05rUqMtTJozZiRYm7xtvkXaWMvxO4fTmLwfHbIrn0Pepc1EELERiVN4TR/s1600/inspector+42+065.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLI7ktSsvDD53Zi4PbgaCBYrN-SD_Cvc35LuN7ClyggAOYET-SvqwYcFT4gkinP2ewWfVRJG3vykICuYPCUOP05rUqMtTJozZiRYm7xtvkXaWMvxO4fTmLwfHbIrn0Pepc1EELERiVN4TR/s400/inspector+42+065.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459115405332424610" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Our process trailer -- that's me driving the truck. It was a narrow street, and after each take, we would back the entire rig up the street and do it again...Have you ever driven a trailer in reverse? Yeah, we did that again and again until we got the shot right--</div><div><br /></div><div>There were actually two camera units filming for awhile on this particular day, because there was so much that needed to be covered. If I'm not mistaken, Nathan acted as both director and director of photography for one of the units, while James Alexander was 2nd unit director, with Derek Pueblo as DP for the 2nd unit (I think that's right...I might be slightly off on that). We even had an RV rented for the day to use as a wardrobe and makeup area, as well as the production office. </div><div><br /></div><div>That same day, a car wreck needed to be simulated (scary...considering the antique cars we were working with). It required the crew to move to another part of the city, including the transportation of the RV, trucks, generators, and antique cars. I even got to drive the '57 Thunderbird for a couple of takes while the actor was changing wardrobe. Nathan's direction to me for the take: "Go tearing through the scene as fast you can..." Trust me, tearing through on that car was absolutely exhilarating.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuq08yUUHpW_kck2P-gfFPwT4YlWCLAaqQZHE8iEZmJyzG2gW8hkwbVOYb3lXeGkggVjbwiYQIvqkaaOZN3W9D2SmjCJ4MNKfl0Kjdp77IXFuXJsSCDu4rUDiKezwhUCoiAKAquAqJGiFh/s400/inspector+42+177.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459118104824456370" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;">After the car accident -- the haze is actually smoke billowing through the scene. I can't remember why fuller's earth wasn't used </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCmN3XOTvR_G7nT_TpvEwpTg9Mbs3n-8Pia5CE2k7Aq82av9dWktAMiumnF-aPszUAfFAUc330UsmSCJ8hY7-Nasn3ymykOhryhySyLFKPNCWKGAFtaLebop6rJXD08hXu866JtetN9fUg/s400/inspector+42+022.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459127318037977826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Luke Drake - "Inspector 42"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And this is mostly detailing one particular production day. Hopefully that gives you an idea of the scope of this project, and how hard every single person had to work to pull it off. I know I posted it before, but still check out the trailer for the film on <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SwFD-gvLx0">Youtube</a>. Don't forget to leave some comments, especially if you happened to be involved in the production (feel free to say what you did, or describe some part of the production!). </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-79607998206457929862010-04-03T08:26:00.003-06:002010-04-03T16:13:07.684-06:00Inspector 42<div>Cool -- so a picture I took last year on the set of "Inspector 42" took seventh place in a weekly photo contest. I don't know how many people entered, but when I looked on Wednesday, there were 900+ entries.</div><div><br /></div><div> <center><a href="http://www.iheartfaces.com/"><img src="http://www.livinglocurto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/I_Heart_Faces_TOP10_125x100.jpg" /></a></center><br /></div><div>Anyway, the blog was <a href="http://iheartfaces.blogspot.com/2009/03/winning-photoscont.html">http://www.iheartfaces.blogspot.com</a> . From their comment, it looks like they thought it was an engagement picture. </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_y08o4AJ8sSTs0Hnscfc0BBbjLdJ6eB2jLl61dR72HRp5QmTcJ2NBTdth4kXGhhJ4KVpzwg0pkRCl2o6aSpIjovdAfDziUwzBr23XPCHBCh1al9ZTZb246I5cAAKx77a3yRYrKBo_4Dl/s1600/inspector+42+018.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_y08o4AJ8sSTs0Hnscfc0BBbjLdJ6eB2jLl61dR72HRp5QmTcJ2NBTdth4kXGhhJ4KVpzwg0pkRCl2o6aSpIjovdAfDziUwzBr23XPCHBCh1al9ZTZb246I5cAAKx77a3yRYrKBo_4Dl/s400/inspector+42+018.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455917645839990258" /></a>And I was really surprised this shot came out the way it did. It was really difficult to focus, because everyone was moving--the actors were moving towards me, while the extras were passing in front of me, and I was shooting wide open at f/1.8. <div><br /></div><div>Anyway, the film was a student project done by several of my friends, but it was one of the most intense shoots I've been on. The film was shot in downtown Salt Lake, but the block we were on couldn't technically be "shut down." So the crew was having to deal with cars passing through the set occasionally, and it was a big shooting area. At one point, there were two camera crews filming different things simultaneously on the same block. The film follows a shirt inspector (aka, Inspector 42), who begins to use defective shirts to meet a quota. But then the defective shirts start wreaking havoc in the community...You can see a trailer for it <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SwFD-gvLx0">here</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Like I said, it was a big project, but it was so much fun. I was in charge of transportation, which meant coordinating the vehicles for equipment, the crew, and parts of the cast. It also included driving an RV a couple of times (yes, an RV! It was a <i>really </i>big project), and coordinating all of the antique cars you see in the film. </div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-48520412567662482492010-03-31T10:20:00.002-06:002010-03-31T10:27:33.606-06:00Tunnel<div>I just wanted to post this picture I took last night. I came across this ridiculously long subway entrance. The art on the walls may or may not be graffiti--I don't really know. Some parts of the tunnel had actual art sketches on the wall, but it blended in with the walls so well that you could barely see it. Anyway, the picture is slightly off-center. I was standing just left of the middle of the tunnel because there was a swarm of people right behind me and I was trying not to block the tunnel. But the lights weren't flush with the piping either, so it makes it look a little bit "off." </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOR2It9_MgTNtsMh9i6D072QTrnJZsiEYMa-emCriD7gUZ_krqnFx0yLYNZKCE7O_6cBE71Pe0vvLT4ao1fhxvfWbxZmHm-FANZBwyt0W6GeFwsjpjUPODiwEma-0xlt6ihty-sifyCe4d/s1600/tunnel-17.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOR2It9_MgTNtsMh9i6D072QTrnJZsiEYMa-emCriD7gUZ_krqnFx0yLYNZKCE7O_6cBE71Pe0vvLT4ao1fhxvfWbxZmHm-FANZBwyt0W6GeFwsjpjUPODiwEma-0xlt6ihty-sifyCe4d/s400/tunnel-17.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454833984661348306" /></a>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-7390471329984813552010-03-29T22:33:00.004-06:002010-03-29T22:52:35.279-06:00Rain<div style="text-align: left;">The weather is starting to get a little nicer here in NYC, and I've been itching to take a lot of pictures. So in the past couple of weeks, I've taken somewhere in the neighborhood of 600 pictures. I did get a flickr account (http://www.flickr.com/photos/jon_foto if you're interested), and I've been having fun uploading. I think I've only been able to get like 25 pictures up (it takes awhile to upload), but I'll be trying to update it frequently.</div><div><br /></div><div>So these are just a couple of pictures I took earlier today. The subway ran a little faster than normal, so I had half an hour to kill before class. I thought I'd take a stroll through Washington Square Park, since it tends to deserted whenever it rains.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2q-CNrCihRcvdKLc6FGGOMYoKEPg3XhF4FFJ8hy26cTqT7MTIDvXatOTQ6UQxFvpB4oJpvZR6q-zBQFOlGjdKXtkWGKF-C66llEk9NDO-AVTfMx-Q1QrFbPGwvwrA8EBhzlIoAaWbBF8B/s1600/Rain-3.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2q-CNrCihRcvdKLc6FGGOMYoKEPg3XhF4FFJ8hy26cTqT7MTIDvXatOTQ6UQxFvpB4oJpvZR6q-zBQFOlGjdKXtkWGKF-C66llEk9NDO-AVTfMx-Q1QrFbPGwvwrA8EBhzlIoAaWbBF8B/s400/Rain-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454282135540893202" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I wanted to take some pictures of the chess tables, but that part of the park is closed due to construction. So I took some pictures of these benches instead. I've really been wanting to take more black & white pictures lately, and I'm trying to "train" my eye to see more tones and textures, and to work a little harder with composition. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyUUY8M7TEyli-FquBsA6T8GQKweDOxM5WpISpc-2yiYKpDDu8fIaNedI-fKcN8hON3BBecDCV_5ExyEnxEFmn9RmFD8y8tZY59f_r6m2gmIB-9kO5GtFEjWp0bg9BJSVMRuj_n5FzCsUH/s1600/Rain-12.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyUUY8M7TEyli-FquBsA6T8GQKweDOxM5WpISpc-2yiYKpDDu8fIaNedI-fKcN8hON3BBecDCV_5ExyEnxEFmn9RmFD8y8tZY59f_r6m2gmIB-9kO5GtFEjWp0bg9BJSVMRuj_n5FzCsUH/s400/Rain-12.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454283086766259858" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">So it's kind of random to show a picture of a half-eaten fruit, but I accidentally scared away the squirrel that had been happily feasting away--you can see some of the scraps on the bench from the squirrel had been eating.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVoXjxkm9p-hEFIhv5HT8PnYDc3Mb5Z8X2x1NOSmZRbsLENHpFyBKu04Pcvjm29jsf4GvFjkNrE_KrH0FBgkZXVDQNdcoiZFh1XnWc0Ved4MvI35zWe6oDnlxzkY87Cgy9-uHk5KyiQ8dX/s1600/Rain-46.jpg" style="text-decoration: none; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVoXjxkm9p-hEFIhv5HT8PnYDc3Mb5Z8X2x1NOSmZRbsLENHpFyBKu04Pcvjm29jsf4GvFjkNrE_KrH0FBgkZXVDQNdcoiZFh1XnWc0Ved4MvI35zWe6oDnlxzkY87Cgy9-uHk5KyiQ8dX/s400/Rain-46.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454283094871057170" style="text-align: left; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Meh, just a bicycle. I was going to play around with composition a little more here, but I was standing in the rain and I was starting to get cold--</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Sorry this post is kind of short--I'll be posting more later this week, and hopefully some more pictures. I don't have work for a week and a half because the middle school where I work is on spring break, so I'll have plenty of time to explore different parts of the city. </div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4004111715557417612.post-33184374757107237042010-03-21T20:31:00.013-06:002010-03-21T22:40:46.765-06:00Spring Break<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><br /><div>Well, I don't know how much of a coincidence this really is, but I realized that the last time I wrote, BYU had just been beaten by TCU in football. And last night, the men's basketball team lost to Kansas State. I don't even know how the game was--as much of a fan of BYU as I am, I was actually watching Wicked on Broadway, 4th row. But hey, at least they made it past the first round.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've really been enjoying my classes this semester. I'm still really busy with papers and assignments, but I feel like they're helping get a better grasp of the material. For instance, in Television History and Culture, I had to research a trade journal from 1957. This meant sifting through about 1500 pages worth of material, formulating a narrative based on my research, and then preparing a report on how the research could be helpful to historians. As nerdy as it sounds, I really enjoyed reading about the changes in the television industry during the 1950s, and how it rippled down through the decades to give birth to the cable and satellite broadcasting available today. As far back as the 1950s, people were theorizing about premium movie channels and sports stations that a user could subscribe to. Like I said, it's totally nerdy, but I'm still having a blast with it.</div><div><br /></div><div>As for more recent stuff, my sister went on a mission to Rancagua Chile, my brother is here in the city visiting for the weekend, and I'm still trying to figure out the dating scene here (I was totally thrown off recently--a girl I had asked out met me at the restaurant, payed for herself, and then just got off the subway when her stop came up...I don't if that's just considered normal for NYC or not, but I feel like I failed with everything I'm used to: picking the girl up, paying for dinner, and then walking her back to her apartment). </div><div><br /></div><div>On a side note, I finally submitted a story proposal to This American Life. I had made an audio documentary several years ago for a class at BYU (you can listen to it at this link <a href="http://www.handsonacamera.org/Uaudio4.html">http://www.handsonacamera.org/Uaudio4.html</a>), and I kept meaning to send it in.</div><div><br /></div><div>And finally, this past week was spring break. I was able to go up to West Point on Thursday with some friends, and we just walked around the campus and enjoyed our time out of the city. My brother came into town yesterday, and we walked around Times Square for several hours and then ended up going to see Wicked (fourth row seats!). Today we walked around the Financial District and took the Staten Island Ferry, and tomorrow we're going to visit the Guggenheim. Here's some pictures from the past week or so--</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8M0-MwQ1clrSTf6O7gF7v0w36O8UBR5TxoMrxdvLpZqy7BaeQvIyUHDPTat4U9-vSs1UIUsD4xQU1mqgWGd5vF-OL22ppZ49YXAxEuRs3hdJkvTWj4D9R1zo9tgq9bf2mRAK4Y-3euWk4/s1600-h/Spring+Break-26.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8M0-MwQ1clrSTf6O7gF7v0w36O8UBR5TxoMrxdvLpZqy7BaeQvIyUHDPTat4U9-vSs1UIUsD4xQU1mqgWGd5vF-OL22ppZ49YXAxEuRs3hdJkvTWj4D9R1zo9tgq9bf2mRAK4Y-3euWk4/s400/Spring+Break-26.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451288694713435314" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">One of my friends found this nut starting to blossom. It was tricky trying to take this picture because the depth of field was so narrow--</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMnDH-r6YzV16Rq_gwTPATIK5OwrfPP9OXUR7UrB_gtO44ljKtlR-WwDzmup1LJTybbzWalOpem6zNq2_tRZjvUf_GkpcEShaz8GU3QC20Orp6C7sjgY3AT4pL45v5MzB_opsYRg4citQ/s1600-h/Spring+Break-74.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMnDH-r6YzV16Rq_gwTPATIK5OwrfPP9OXUR7UrB_gtO44ljKtlR-WwDzmup1LJTybbzWalOpem6zNq2_tRZjvUf_GkpcEShaz8GU3QC20Orp6C7sjgY3AT4pL45v5MzB_opsYRg4citQ/s400/Spring+Break-74.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451288428157406370" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Part of a tree on West Point. We relaxed on the lawn in front of the museum for a little while, and I wanted to play around some more with depth of field.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7XrypvgbOocbLCL9KL4BU0Tm7NNr9LBOrXT8vMd3r10OFFtjZ0BIq8TNh-7Led821yfJ4cpov9cyMGbwCXTWhpwciZZ0trxbKRSBhJtC_6Oqo8hg0JoK_luZ23U7VPEYg0UBK1SVEW6pf/s1600-h/Spring+Break-109.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7XrypvgbOocbLCL9KL4BU0Tm7NNr9LBOrXT8vMd3r10OFFtjZ0BIq8TNh-7Led821yfJ4cpov9cyMGbwCXTWhpwciZZ0trxbKRSBhJtC_6Oqo8hg0JoK_luZ23U7VPEYg0UBK1SVEW6pf/s400/Spring+Break-109.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451288105785450930" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The Cathedral at West Point</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggeh5LLwENQbsxEZj9p9nkw-Ub3Dn4I7i2rpLqCp-r3O9tbWeaH2J9pk2K0tdnFKWrkj08w6_HQ-tPqv3_3edYGVqGEQOuvFL49TMHn0KH8WDmlx6xRxzEe7MKxGCMhXvZaIc94lJFnvHp/s1600-h/Spring+Break-95.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggeh5LLwENQbsxEZj9p9nkw-Ub3Dn4I7i2rpLqCp-r3O9tbWeaH2J9pk2K0tdnFKWrkj08w6_HQ-tPqv3_3edYGVqGEQOuvFL49TMHn0KH8WDmlx6xRxzEe7MKxGCMhXvZaIc94lJFnvHp/s400/Spring+Break-95.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451287532143895282" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I don't remember what field this was next to, but it was still on West Point</div></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJHgxZFfXgwlS-M3VIoXI5_2bzablYZf7j9PD8x9HSTrRQqYWbCp03rOB5ju2tH47mcXXHc14j40PsMGwknrvvRg0Ovb4ngIXHzxMIlbViOobxNFuniaDPci0H__XGi7JUg5oxsQNkaFU/s1600-h/Spring+Break-80.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJHgxZFfXgwlS-M3VIoXI5_2bzablYZf7j9PD8x9HSTrRQqYWbCp03rOB5ju2tH47mcXXHc14j40PsMGwknrvvRg0Ovb4ngIXHzxMIlbViOobxNFuniaDPci0H__XGi7JUg5oxsQNkaFU/s400/Spring+Break-80.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451283321271751426" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">One of the buildings on West Point. It was pretty cool seeing how a lot of the different buildings looked like castles or something--we're going to try and go back during the spring or summer</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuzde2Anyh783n2JgJoZJha6RDBsfp2A_mkPCF3o8uqa-RYQeFG0h0KKfn97B3cNw8Wp6K1J_MyItyfhCi9-VTiQkMuN9PzR3gr8gnBdrilRstzys-1n1q6tU8LNFm4A9cHoH4FR7Udry/s1600-h/Spring+Break-117.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuzde2Anyh783n2JgJoZJha6RDBsfp2A_mkPCF3o8uqa-RYQeFG0h0KKfn97B3cNw8Wp6K1J_MyItyfhCi9-VTiQkMuN9PzR3gr8gnBdrilRstzys-1n1q6tU8LNFm4A9cHoH4FR7Udry/s400/Spring+Break-117.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451285653586680594" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">As we were heading home from West Point, we stopped at this outcropping to take some pictures.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4fYnajwz8aWdfnsc7ROuGZ9j5UMoNqum6nqkTgXMjjRPVvb9hqmoWeuCEmDTycJ_jub9YGdxXitysSMRQHC892Ho9Qo1kKGEbxKfHL6bcnu9lhw-W9O_sfV67iico7up7ryyRYOlSdZzB/s400/Spring+Break-126.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451282719790666626" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We thought we were getting into a sketchy situation at the outcropping, because it looked like a motorcycle gang was surrounding the place. Of all things, they were trying to throw a paper airplane off the cliff edge and into the river--so yeah, it wasn't a gang at all, just some friends out for a ride. They let me take some pictures--</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYr3uSbG0WLt7_J2S34T0Xzv029KgMrMCbC4O4xudgL-6FlwoTh-XI9MnYHyRdTwkkThkphWm7nu9rmixC2N2z0OhwBW4oIakoX65LG8t5SjTYsAexbU1zSSUQUVuPjzmqD3dOvW8tbBIz/s1600-h/Spring+Break-144.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYr3uSbG0WLt7_J2S34T0Xzv029KgMrMCbC4O4xudgL-6FlwoTh-XI9MnYHyRdTwkkThkphWm7nu9rmixC2N2z0OhwBW4oIakoX65LG8t5SjTYsAexbU1zSSUQUVuPjzmqD3dOvW8tbBIz/s400/Spring+Break-144.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451286402531878882" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Just another sunset pic</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJHgxZFfXgwlS-M3VIoXI5_2bzablYZf7j9PD8x9HSTrRQqYWbCp03rOB5ju2tH47mcXXHc14j40PsMGwknrvvRg0Ovb4ngIXHzxMIlbViOobxNFuniaDPci0H__XGi7JUg5oxsQNkaFU/s1600-h/Spring+Break-80.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></a></div><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdTK4yCWU8lNZbZHzi06HLS3Gn90FCuQAneu4g9563B0yxS4ThXyhfqOPdz_Wq-5yQOfo9OHl77-FoNav23fRpIxvW6Vylc_Uy8oWHe1TkjdlDKDDppEmOqYi4gtFVw3iTt_nRPjsJlc-N/s1600-h/Spring+Break-54.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdTK4yCWU8lNZbZHzi06HLS3Gn90FCuQAneu4g9563B0yxS4ThXyhfqOPdz_Wq-5yQOfo9OHl77-FoNav23fRpIxvW6Vylc_Uy8oWHe1TkjdlDKDDppEmOqYi4gtFVw3iTt_nRPjsJlc-N/s400/Spring+Break-54.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451283657100268274" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">On the Staten Island Ferry--I tilted the camera on purpose just to play around with perspective a little. This is right as the ferry was getting ready to dock back in Manhattan. Everyone ran to the windows to take pictures of the NYC skyline, so I thought I'd take a picture of them instead</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsXPktJLMesixEFXJCYqhS1ajBXr4B0hvgJk1WM_n2oqkMw3QVgOGvrbe6neqSZ3UBXiMy5sf8_YAvDhhN9r6XXCSv3fPlm-w6eEVGarcSii7fnff4XPIdz97Co0rFAb5SaPIi4sWSrfFb/s1600-h/Spring+Break-61.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsXPktJLMesixEFXJCYqhS1ajBXr4B0hvgJk1WM_n2oqkMw3QVgOGvrbe6neqSZ3UBXiMy5sf8_YAvDhhN9r6XXCSv3fPlm-w6eEVGarcSii7fnff4XPIdz97Co0rFAb5SaPIi4sWSrfFb/s400/Spring+Break-61.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451285286656988402" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">My brother Pere -- Staten Island Ferry</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxqT-cesAL_YPM-JnPJo3fk3Rq57ETnPxQ2D44lUPSCrluHEz2xl3pEJRUlIIMod0GDmf6GwM_-o2rURElDtpqZjBXfnTEr2It3b7u9CoeeOEicEIlKsYEqYZujFgJUMyCBFbKwc2QAqqQ/s1600-h/Spring+Break-75.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxqT-cesAL_YPM-JnPJo3fk3Rq57ETnPxQ2D44lUPSCrluHEz2xl3pEJRUlIIMod0GDmf6GwM_-o2rURElDtpqZjBXfnTEr2It3b7u9CoeeOEicEIlKsYEqYZujFgJUMyCBFbKwc2QAqqQ/s400/Spring+Break-75.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451312720581447170" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Some random wall in the Financial District -- everything else was sparkling clean, but this one alleyway just didn't match</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyway, sorry it has been so long since I last updated my blog. I've just been pretty busy with school and everything. Hopefully I can post more pictures soon--</div></div></div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02820288584628385009noreply@blogger.com2