3 Prints Project: Limited Success with Print Giveaway

In the driveway, packed and ready to try and give away some prints away at the Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts. Thirty prints that had lived in a box since I made them would try and find a new home.

On Sunday the festival doesn't open until 10am so I had some time to roam around on the scooter. Morning is my favorite time to ride. The earlier the better. If 6am is good then 4am is heaven. I haven't seen much of heaven lately.

I can remember days when this area was solid humanity from sidewalk to sidewalk and you could barely travel a half block in 15 minutes. Early morning is a favorite because things are more quiet. In the background you can see a bicyclist amidst the water spray made available to help cool people off and give kids some water action. The bicyclist had a small child on the back of the bike and he rode back and forth through the spray to give the little one some excitement.

The print giveaway.

Gordon Harkins and I gathered on campus and decided to make one loop through the festival and see how people reacted to our offer of free art and prints. We would make no verbal offers or approaches, just respond to inquires. We probably should have taken a long look in the mirror before making that decision.

Gordon was fully outfitted for the giveaway of his prints. Being far more serious than I am he had selected four images and made five custom, numbered prints of each. The prints were carefully signed and labeled and placed inside plastic sleeves to protect them. I had my prints in a satchel on my shoulder with a package of plastic sleeves to protect the print from barbecue sauce or funnel cake fallout should anyone desire to take one.

Neither of us had any idea how this would go. The show was just waking up and people were just beginning to arrive as we approached the sidewalk sale. I could see people reading us and wondering what we were doing. I could see furtive glances and hear soft comments like, "You ask." But no takers.

Finally, "Hey, what are you giving away?" A man in a white van who just helped unload some artist's wares. We showed him our prints and explained what we were doing but we couldn't convince him to choose a print. He told us his wife was the artist and that we should visit her just two booths away.

"Why are you giving these away?" was her question. I froze and mumbled something meaningless about having boxes of them sitting at home. Gordon stepped in for the save and told her that we are setting them free. Worked for me. Worked for her. She selected a gelatin silver print of a dead tree I shot just a few miles from where we were standing. It was made with an 8x10 Zone VI view camera and that particular image garnered a Best of Show Award in the Annual Art Alliance of Central Pennsylvania Show. I never felt it was too popular. Photographs are never supposed to be chosen over painting and sculpture for a best of show honor. It's like a mixed breed dog winning Best of Show at Westminster.

The woman wouldn't know any of this unless she visits here. Doesn't matter. I was just curious about what people would chose.

In the 90 minutes we were at the show I gave away nine prints. And I recognized another dozen individuals who wanted to ask but wouldn't. This was all Gordon's fault. He labeled his hat "Free Art". Everyone knows that's code for a credit card offer or worse.

In addition to being surprised at how reticent people were to ask I was also surprised at what they chose. One young woman picked a picture of my front yard. A young man chose a tree with a Posted, No Hunting Sign attached to it. One woman chose a picture of a single tea cup on a table in an empty Saint's Cafe and a man selected a picture of a shimmer of light on a brick wall at the Cleveland Clinic. Good thing I had a diverse selection.

Walking home Gordon and I characterized our endeavor as a limited success. No one yelled at us and no one chose a print and ritually destroyed it in our presence. That's always a good sign.

It did feel good to share the pictures and I will do it again next year. If not before. Until then I'll keep riding and making pictures. It is its own reward.

Giving Away Photographic Prints

Free. Just for the asking. If you see me wearing this handpainted T shirt on Sunday at the Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts in State College, Pennsylvania you can have one of my gelatin silver prints.

That's what my friend Gordon and I will be doing tomorrow morning -- giving away prints from our 3 Prints Project and perhaps some others that make their way into my satchel.

Gordon sprang this on me a couple days ago after thinking about a conversation about the expense of buying a photograph from an artist or photographer. No wonder so few people have original prints hanging on their walls. Collecting photographs is a pastime for those with disposable income. So giving prints away is our answer to the problem of high print prices.

It's almost midnight as I write this and I am wondering what exactly I'm doing.

I'm not certain why anyone would want a print -- their personal and not particularly pretty or decorative. They're small, black and white, and printed on 8x10 inch paper. No one is going to ask which frame looks best for putting this over the couch in the family room. They're just little memories, snapshots, snippets of experience.

But they originals and they are free. At least until someone says we aren't allowed to give them away. I certainly don't want to end up on the no-fly list over it.

For now it's just an opportunity to do something just to see what happens.

The BMW R1200 RT: Riding a Big Bike

What’s big? When your everyday ride is a Vespa almost everything seems big. I’ll confess a predjudice towards large motorcycles and share my reactions as I tried out the BMW. The BMW R1200 RT fits neatly into my big motorcycle category with descriptors like heavy, lumbering, cumbersome, overpowered, and expensive. All of them negative and a reflection of my own riding preferences. Even Craig Kissell recognized my bias when he offered me the motorcycle beginning with, “I know this isn’t your style.” That’s the baggage I brought along on this ride.

I tell myself I’m going to be open and fair towards this BMW when I roll it out of my garage on a clear, 40 degree morning (back in early May). After placing my camera, notebook, and map in one of the side cases and checking the bike over I decided to leave my cold weather riding jacket and gloves at home and surrender myself to the protection of this touring machine.

My feelings about big bikes might color my riding expectations, but it does not affect my familiarization routine with a new machine. In a parking area at the end of the street I sit quietly examining the controls, feeling the switches with my thumb, and raising my boots off the ground to experiment with the motorcycle’s balance. It’s what I do. It makes me feel better that I won’t be making that call, “Hey Craig, you know that BMW I’m riding….”

There’s a riding plan in my head but before heading down the road I force myself to practice a few slow speed maneuvers and some braking tests. Nothing dramatic, just enough to feel how the BMW responds.

I plan is to ride north on main roads. Fast, without stops. No meandering down back roads looking for pictures. This time I am going to be a real rider. No frequent stops, just a fast direct route to breakfast 50 miles away.

The R1200 RT is designed to travel. If I had to ride to Montana tomorrow and didn’t have a lot of time this is the kind of motorcycle I would choose to make it a pleasant, comfortable trip. Pleasant and comfortable -- new descriptors.

It’s cold outside. On the Vespa I would have several layers under my cold weather riding jacket, electric gloves, and overpants. At 70mph on a 40 degree morning a person would get pretty cold without protection from the wind. But here I am with a sweater and t-shirt under my mesh summer riding jacket, summer gloves, jeans and boots. The power windshield and cowling keeps me out of the windblast. The heated grips keep my hands toasty and the heated seat, well, let’s just say it’s nice. By the time the thermometer reaches 55 I have shed the sweater. I could see riding this motorcycle until the snow flies.

I make the 50-mile trip to breakfast in record time with only one stop to take a picture. The BMW is smooth and the faster you go the smoother is seems to get. It feels luxurious. I add smooth and luxurious to my list.

No one passed me and when I joined the four-lane section of US 220 BMW traveled at speeds my Vespa could only dream about. Did I mention the R1200 RT has cruise control?

After a hearty breakfast at the Restless Oaks Restaurant near McElhattan, Pennsylvania I pointed the bike north towards Mansfield 70 miles away.

The BMW does a bit of deception when it comes to speed. The wind protection, power, and smooth ride give the impression that you aren’t traveling as fast as your actually are. On a stretch of US 15 I glanced at the speedometer and saw 80mph. I would have sworn to the State Police that I was going 60. No wonder I was passing everyone.

On the high points of US 15 just south of Mansfield I hit some heavy crosswinds. The bike's big profile would seem to make it a perfect target for some serious buffeting but the R1200 RT tracked along well after scrubbing off some speed. Pretty impressive considering how badly some other bikes I have ridden performed in crosswinds. I add stable to my list. I don’t want to add impressive yet.

I think about the motorcycle during a stop to stretch my legs and make a few pictures. I’m beginning to understand what a touring bike is about and why someone would want one. Everything works smoothly to deliver a great ride on the highway. It’s got plenty of power, lots of storage and storage potential, and plenty of features to extend a rider’s comfort range. Things like electronic suspension adjustment and integrated ABS brakes. What do I love? The big display that tells me what gear I am in. Now you know where I’m coming from technically.

After a stop for fuel along US 6 (I didn’t check the fuel economy) I headed into Wellsboro for a quick look around. Thirty-six years ago I regularly traveled through this area in a 1970 VW Beetle as I made routine trips from State College to northern Tioga County. The BMW is a far better way to travel than that old bug.

Just a few hours on this motorcycle and I had to reevaluate my early expectations. It doesn’t seem large and I was impressed at how easy it was to handle. It wasn’t cumbersome though you do have to pay attention to what you are doing, especially doing very slow maneuvers or pushing the bike around for parking. If something stupid is going to happen that’s where I’ll place my bet. Several times I caught myself saying, “This BMW is pretty nimble.” I’m not adding nimble to the list.

I make a stop for water and chocolate at the Pierce General Store in Morris, Pennsylvania. It’s nice to go into a place that doesn’t have dozens of other stores just like it. Standing outside I was considering routes home. There’s always a choice in Pennsylvania – the simple direct route and the rider route that is twice as far and four times as scenic.

I choose the latter and turn off PA 287 onto PA 414 towards Blackwell and many miles of narrow, twisting road along Pine Creek.

When asked “Why do you ride?” I think about places like this. Lightly traveled roads through the forests and mountains of north central Pennsylvania where my spirit and thoughts are free to wander unencumbered by the more serious nature of work and responsibility. And there is so much to see. My desire to see the landscape is, in part, why larger motorcycles don’t fit easily into my riding world.

With more powerful motorcycles I find I ride faster more often and I just see less. Over 30mph and you just miss the details of a place. Traveling fast requires a lot of attention to the road because things happen so fast. You just can’t pay attention to the landscape around you as well. And I’m much less inclined to stop and inspect things because of the work involved making U-turns, parking and getting on and off a big bike. But that’s me.

I did stop and turn around to look at this cable car linking this side of the road to a cabin across the creek. Lot’s of nice little cabins in this part of the state.

The road is narrow, high crowned with almost no shoulder. I feel as if the bike isn’t tracking well through the broken, uneven curves and turns. This is no place to cross the center line or drop off the side of the road. I ratchet up my attention and think again of the need to practice on a new motorcycle. It’s the first time my lack of experience with the bike is apparent.

I’m stopping a lot now to look around and take pictures. This time as I cross Pine Creek. I’m feeling the lack of flexibility in my legs and hips as I swing my leg up and over the side cases and seat of the BMW for the 20th time. While the bike is designed for comfort it was never intended for the stop, start, and stop again riding routine I can get into.

Just to make sure you understand what I’m talking about, I may stop 6 times in one mile and spend 20 minutes looking around. It’s a wonder I ever get anywhere at all.

The road moves in and out of the forest as it tracks along above Pine Creek. I never tire of this part of Pennsylvania.

Crossing into a new county the road surface changes. Amazing what planning and cash can do for a road.

This is the first BMW I’ve ridden with a boxer style engine. It seems to have great low and medium speed torque and power and shifts as smoothly as anything I’ve ridden. It’s easy to understand why the BMW has developed a mystic among its riding community.

At another bridge I’ve been on and off the bike for over four hours and aside from the soreness related to swinging my leg over the bike I am remarkably relaxed and comfortable. Had I been heading to Montana I would be approaching the Ohio-Indiana border with plenty of energy to ride on to Chicago and beyond before bedtime.

On one stretch of road along the creek it was nice having a windshield as I plowed through swarms of insects. I was nice not having to stop and clean off my face shield.

One final stop at Ross Siding and I made the decision to put the camera away and head home. Directly. I’m 70 miles from home and just enjoyed the ride on the BMW R1200 RT.

With the bike sitting in the driveway I imagined the kinds of rides I could make. Long day rides, weekend rides, or extended tours. The BMW R1200 RT would be ready for any of them. For my choppy, start and stop, pictures first, riding second style it would not be the best bet. But for many riders this motorcycle would be heaven.

Lessons from Junior

Sometimes I look and Junior and try to imagine how simply he takes life. Looking out ahead at the path in the woods nothing else exists for him other than what he senses before him. He has lessons to teach. I have to practice to achieve what comes natural to him. And even then it seldom lasts long. This picture was made a few days ago as part of my ongoing 3 Prints Project work.

Riding comes close to what I imagine Junior experiences. Once on the road I'm able to let go of the noise and chaos that gathers in my head. At times it's loud enough to keep the Vespa in the garage. Lately there has been a lot to do at work and around the house and I have not been as productive a blogger as I wish I could be. Two BMW motorcycle reviews live as notes that need to be massaged into blog posts. Add my dislike of riding in warm weather and suddenly I find myself arriving at work in a truck. This picture was made on Father's Day. A fine, relaxed ride through the countryside.

Every morning the boy reminds me of the importance of ritual. Rain or shine, hot or cold, busy or not, we walk. How hard is it to apply that lesson to work, photography, and other parts of my life?

My friend Gordon and I have continued showing up each Sunday morning to share prints made during the previous week. Some weeks I show up with nothing more than good intentions. We added a stick to the project for motivation. If one of us doesn't have any prints they owe the other $20. It's helped so far.

Even with the added motivation I find myself rushing at the last minute. Last week my prints weren't completely dry so instead of a relaxing ride into town on the Vespa I had to spread the prints on the front seat of the truck with the air-conditioner blowing them dry.

Rushing means you'll miss something. I first saw these ducks in town while having breakfast with a friend. Junior found them first my smell and then by site on another day as we walked through town. With nose to the ground he is open to what the next turn brings. I have to remember that.

Sunday morning means a ride to Saint's Cafe or Starbucks to share prints and provide moral support for creative endeavor. At times I ask myself why I continue to shoot film, make prints, spend the money on something that will never return a nickel for my effort. Then I think of Junior and try not to ask the why questions. Those are for God.

Dogs are good teachers. They know what they want. They know what's important. I've been photographing Junior more in hopes of discovering a few secret ways. I hope to find those things in many of the pictures I make as part of the 3 Prints Project. Of few of the recent prints follow below.

Kim sitting in a corner of the garden as the light fails in the evening.

Saturday morning not far from Warriors Mark.

An angel looks out over our garden.

Junior waits patiently for me to remove his leash and throw tennis balls across the field. He has a few obsessive traits. Tennis balls are one.

I feel guilty every time I look at this picture. Gordon made it one Sunday morning as I prepared to ride a BMW F650 GS north towards Sproul State Forest. Looking at it makes me feel guilty. I still have not written reviews of two other BMWs I have ridden -- the F800 GS and the RT1200. They're on my list of things to do.

Junior contemplating a fork in the dog road while I contemplate him.



Kim photographing ornamental grasses in the late day sunlight.

It's late Sunday night and I still have a few chores to finish. The Vespa is out in the driveway and I am not sure how to get it into the garage without first taking it for a ride. Junior waits patiently for one last walk through the night.

Perhaps he has one last lesson for me.

Catching Up, Falling Behind, and Playing with BMWs

Sometimes it's useful to stop and take a look in the mirror. Even if it's only a reflection in a bank window. While my wife says I look like a space alien I see something different. Making the picture serves as an way point in the week, a chance to figure out what I'm doing and where I'm going. Work, riding, photography, the dog, Kim, the garden, all things I love . The more I do the more I seem to want to do. And that's ok.

I have punctuation marks in my blog post title. That's a bad sign. I've worked in academia a long time.

The dearth of blog posts here lately are direct result of the following excuses:

1. I didn't have anything to ride. My Vespa was in the shop for service -- valve adjustment, belt and roller change, fluid and filter changes, sparkplug, that sort of stuff.

2. I was riding too much that I didn't have any time to write. I still haven't posted my reviews of the BMW RT1200 or the BMW F800 GS.

3. My dog ate my writing time. Junior is going through a growth spurt and demands more attention. Just when I sit down to the computer he needs to chase a tennis ball.

4. I've been doing other stuff. Like watching DVDs with Kim of Project Runway, True Blood, and The Sopranos.

So just a quick update of what's going on and some promises to post a few items soon.

Picking the Vespa up today at Kissell Motorsports I saw the BMW truck full of demo bikes in their parking lot and couldn't pass up the big, bright graphics for a picture. If you have some time on Friday or Saturday and want to take a BMW for a ride now's your chance.

I feel a little guilty that I haven't posted my review of the BMW RT1200. Just a little though. Things improve with age. It's been three weeks since I put it through its paces in the sticks. I'm working on it though and will post it soon.

I've been riding the BMW F800 GS. Another review to write. And I have so many pictures of the motorcycle. What started out as little blog posts are fast becoming motorcycle manifestos. I need to edit.

Anyways, that's how things stand right now. The Vespa is still out in the driveway as the midnight hour approaches and part of me just wants to go for a ride.

The (non) Epic Journey

On the way to work a few mornings ago. I find my adventure in small doses. As much imagined as real. A turn off the pavement to enjoy a mile of gravel, a view, the fragrance of honeysuckle floating on a moist morning fog. The Vespa is my license for (non) epic journeys.

Twilight has been calling strongly to the rider. There is so much to see. Everything is different. On a ride to pick up takeout food from Kelly's Steak and Seafood I stopped to admire the changing light on this small white building. I have a collection of photographs of this structure but still I have not seen all its faces. Riding, the camera, and my Moleskine journal continue to work their magic on my brain.

It's essential magic.

Out near midnight doing nothing in particular I stop to admire the moonlight paint the trees along the highway. The magic comes when I am processing the image and see rust behind the front wheel. I've observed many riders fastidiously (obsessively) cleaning and polishing their machines. I don't remember washing any salt away this past year. My Google Tasks now includes some remedial and cosmetic service, hopefully in time before the International Association of Sparkling Chrome, Paint and Detailing Science arrives to revoke my Vespa ownership.

I recognize the heightened risk of riding at night. Common sense, extensive adjustments to managing the machine and the road, and a nod to the riding fairies are all part of the ritual. Thoughts of Bambi, the drunk, and the stray cinder block on the road sharpen attention to detail.

Solitude is rarefied at night. Even the most hectic places succumb to a sleepy state of quiet. Scrambling up the side of the hill to make the picture, looking out over the Vespa and the night sky, I could hear the Eagle's Peaceful Easy Feeling play in my head.

Not too bad for a few (non) epic journeys.

Midnight Ride

Leaving town this evening I felt the night calling. I love riding at night though seldom do it other than a quick errand. Books on riding technique and safety say no to the night. Still it calls. A half moon was already high in the sky and the air was just beginning to cool. But dinner and good sense sent me home.

Just before midnight Kim and I were in the garden watering plants. The moon was glowing through the bows of the fir trees and she commented on how nice it was outside. I couldn't stand it any longer. I hadn't put the Vespa away when I got home so it only took a moment to be on the road, the GTS's bright, red instrument cluster warm like a fire as I began a short ride. I only needed a mile, maybe two, and I would be satisfied.

One last stop for a picture and then home, relaxed, content, awash in the magic of the night. How is it something so simple can be so luxurious?

Taking the Road Less Traveled

I made this picture on the way home from work last night. A short detour from the predictable route. Small adventures where I find them. Riding to work (and home) is what I make of it.

A still unmowed pasture offered itself up for a new shortcut that I just couldn't resist. On a motorcycle like the BMW F650 GS taking this road would be uneventful. On the small-wheeled Vespa the unseen hazards lurking below the canopy of grass, clover, groundhog holes and dandelions add an element of potential surprise. It makes me ride with a different quality of attention.

The sky lured me in as well. I saw clouds growing dark from the highway and began searching for a place open enough to photograph them well. Thoughts of my Vespa bucket list photos moved through my head as I considered, "Vespa with funnel cloud". Not on this ride though.

It was a good day at work with much accomplished. Riding from the parking lot towards home I sensed the need for an attitude adjustment which often results from diverging from the predictable path. And I think I achieved what poet Robert Frost said so well in the last stanza of The Road Not Taken.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

With a sigh I am off to a new day of work. Sadly not on two wheels.

What Goes on in Your Head?

A friend linked to the video below on Facebook. I thought it was a riding video and I guess it sort of is. Made me wonder about what moves through my brain while moving down the road. I'm certainly not thinking about the things that concern Mordeth13.

Most of the time I am moving away from any concerns at all and just soaking in the visual experience. But everyone's different. And maybe if I was riding through traffic like this fellow who made the video I would have different concerns too...