After I finished cleaning the bathrooms, I nipped off to try and make some pictures. I started out at the silos on First, but wasn’t feeling any of what I saw there and moved on to the old Durango Boot factory at 3rd and N Margin.

I got a couple of images that might be worth keeping but I’d held my ticket too late and the light had snuck off behind the trees, leaving the old roof and trusses flat and bland.

Again, I find that managing time is the single best going I can do to make better pictures. The time to scout is two hours BEFORE the light you want. This is especially the case when you know your subject is hemmed in on all sides by trees, meaning the Magic Time is going to be fleeting at best.

I’d wised up this time, taking one lens. But doing so once won’t break the habit of fucking around with equipment. Instead, I need to spend a couple of months shooting one lens. I could use the discipline and I’d cut down on the dead weight I drag along as well.

So much to learn. So little time.

Even when you’re really, really good at something, you have to take a break every now and then to cleanse, reorganize and reset.  Maguire is well on his way to being an “important” author whose work will be read and loved by my kids as much as I did.  But anyone looking for another recasting of a fairy tale from Gregory Maguire’s “The Next Queen of Heaven” will find themselves disappointed.

It’s not that the book isn’t good.  It is.  Very.  What it is is that it’s different enough that some portion of his readership will look to this book as an aberration, a speed bump along the way that he’s charted for us with the Wicked series and his reimagining on Snow White and other tales.  The fact is, it’s not.  

Macguire’s characters are every bit as removed from this world as any fairy tale.  It’s just that moving his setting into the twentieth-about-to-be-twenty-first century, he’s stepped away from the almost hidebound world of castles, royalty and epic time scales and concentrated on doing what he’s always done … Tell stories that look at the nature of love, and how obligation, commitment, fear and longing all play in to making us who we are.  

Since returning from New Mexico last month, I’ve been thinking a lot about curation and curatorship.

I shot 7 rolls of B/W film and about 4 GB worth of digital photos.  Of that, I made 5 prints from the film, and have yet to publish any of the digital. 

Part of the hesitation is personal.  Part of it is laziness.  But a larger part is the fact that I’m still thinking on what the work that I show says about the trip I took and, more importantly, what the trip meant. 

Without doing further reading, it seems that this is the essence of curatorship – the discipline lies in the thought that occurs before I begin posting/publishing/printing.  It’s about more than IDing the “best” of the work.  Instead, it has to do with amassing a series of photos that not only tell a story, but convey something larger.  I don’t yet know what that something is.

I hope to figure it out.

Nashville’s 31st in a ranking of the 100 Most iPad-Friendly Cities in the U.S.