Monterey Bay Aquarium
cherry valley forever

#extradirty
NASA
Show & Tell

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shark vs the universe

Janaina Medeiros
we're not kids anymore.
KIROKAZE

⁂

titsay
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

oozey mess

if i look back, i am lost
Game of Thrones Daily

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ojovivo

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@joedviera-blog
Assignmentless on St. Patricks day my newsroom greeted me with a familiar “go find something”. I went where any of us would go when given a roamer on this sacred Irish holiday, I went to a bar.
Alone and entranced by the patrons drinking; this unidentified woman didn’t notice me until the very moment i pressed the shutter. It was my favorite photo and I at least wanted to it have as a secondary.
I asked if she would give me her name. She said “No.”, I said “Shit.”
"Why are you going to the Falls?" asked the newsroom. "Because I want to cover the fight" I replied.
I’ve only been afforded the opportunity to cover two boxing assignments in my years with the papers. There is something about boxing that feels historic. Most of the time it’s two men that have never met beating each other until they can’t.
The fighter on the ground spent most of the match either complaining or hugging the other. Not the best strategy. He lost.
Art shot for the two papers only ran in one. This particular one didn’t make the cut.
The best part of this job is that you rarely know what to expect. This October afternoon called for a trip to a farm. John greeted me with “Are those the shoes you’re gonna wear?”
Unprepared for the muddy trail that awaited us I looked at him and said “lets go.” As we walked I buttered him up with questions I don’t recall the answers to. I like talking because it helps ease people into the idea of me sticking my camera into their face.
We got to the Boar and Sows and he fed them pears as he explained how he didn’t use antibiotics on his pigs. After about a half hour I told him to walk ahead hoping I could find an genuine moment.
On my way out bought some bacon. We exchanged goodbyes and I got in my car. About a half mile down the road I looked down at my shoes. Disgusting.
At least the bacon was good.
The sound of the marimba blares from my pocket. I answer my phone to a recognizable “JOOOOOED how are ya bro?” This means one of two things, Cappy is having a cookout or Cappy needs a favor, usually the later. We talk, I hang up and plug the address he gave me into my phone and head out the door.
An hour later I’m at Ransomville Speedway. After some convincing (for some reason the publisher won’t let us have official county press credentials) I was able to persuade the gate that I was from the newspaper. I was given an orange vest and jumped into the pits of a modified stock car race event. I’ve never shot a car race so as usual, I played it by ear.
Billy Decker is the driver for the Gypsum Racing Team. His team was gracious enough to let me snoop around their trailer. I’d rather be photographing real interactions around events than pose people and ask for smiles. We’re so used to smiling for every camera that presents itself. I like it when people forget I’m there and act as though i’m not. It’s more honest.
Towards the end of July the twin cities celebrate Canalfest. The newsroom usually sends you to take pictures of a specific event say a pie eating contest or a baby race. Yes you read that right, a baby race.
Being the last day of the fair my assignment was fireworks. I find photographing fireworks boring and tedious but its all part of the job.
Photographing people on the other hand is quite entertaining. They are unpredictable, you never know what you’re gonna see. I usually roam and end up around the rides and games. You see the masses of strangers. Families in their own worlds.
The end of the fireworks display is the signal for mass exodus. I had taken all the safe shots, the ones the paper would run. Fireworks, rides, lines and fun.
As Canalfest closed up, I walked around to entertain myself and avoid the traffic. I looked for the photographs the paper seldom runs. Garbage. Emptiness. I found an operator packing up one of the popular games. The paper ran the fireworks.
I don’t live near the paper but will gladly go in early to cover something unique. The Sheriffs Emergency Response Team was having a 9AM exercise at the Catholic School. So it was that kind of morning.
Spring break affords the unit the opportunity to perform a school shooting exercise without traumatizing any students. The schools staff, volunteers, and deputies role-played as civilians, the injured and school shooters.
A few blanks shots spark the beginning of the exercise. I was placed in the room where the final shoot out took place. I’d rather have a better picture and get yelled at so I looked around a bit. I heard the S.E.R.T. clearing rooms. I made my way around the hallways and shadowed them. They ignored me and followed one of the shooters into the room and took him down.
I went into this assignment knowing nothing about this man. It’s hard to invest myself in every story, sometimes I take a photograph, file it and call it a day. Thats what i did when Richard Bertrand came to our office.
When the story got pushed back and the reporter told me more about him it inspired me. I asked for a reshoot. I wanted to make an environmental portrait that represented him better. He deserved that.
The housing authority has not been publicly posting their meeting times. Richard being a tenant noticed and submitted some freedom of information law requests to resolve it. He wanted to inform other tenants that they could attend the board meetings.
Although the tenants have two electable representatives on the board most don’t know who they are. Richard is attempting to give his neighbors a voice by using transparency to inform them of the boards activities.
I find that commendable.
Skyla is a 7 year old who is currently undergoing treatment for acute myeloblastic leukemia. Approaching assignments like this is emotionally tough. I have to quickly create a comfort level with subjects and photograph them sensitively.
I got to Roswell early, she wasn’t ready so I waited around for a while. I introduced myself to Skyla and her mother Beth. Skyla was brushing her doll’s hair. I started to shoot. I asked her questions about her toys and school. We visited one of her new friends also under going treatment at the Institute. Skyla was so cheerful. I hadn’t expected that
I took the safe publishable shots but i decided to stay a while longer to see if I could get something other than cute. I followed her to a play room where she enjoyed cooking games on a computer. After about a half hour a nurse came in and grabbed her for the EKG.
Skyla helped the nurse place the electrodes and complained that she didn’t like removing them because it was painful. Her mother comforted her and reminded her that she had been through worse.
After the EKG it was back to the playroom. I taught her and her friend how to play monopoly. Before long it seemed like most of the nursing staff was in the room watching. Skyla won.
The sound of the marimba blares from my pocket. I answer my phone to a recognizable “JOOOOOED how are ya bro?” This means one of two things, Cappy is having a cookout or Cappy needs a favor, usually the later. We talk, I hang up and plug the address he gave me into my phone and head out the door. An hour later I’m at Ransomville Speedway. After some convincing (for some reason the publisher won’t let us have official county press credentials) I was able to persuade the gate that I was from the newspaper. I was given an orange vest and jumped into the pits of a modified stock car race event. I’ve never shot a car race so as usual, I played it by ear. Billy Decker is the driver for the Gypsum Racing Team. His team was gracious enough to let me snoop around their trailer. I’d rather be photographing real interactions around events than pose people and ask for smiles. We’re so used to smiling for every camera that presents itself. I like it when people forget I’m there and act as though i’m not. It’s more honest.
The best part of this job is that you rarely know what to expect. This October afternoon called for a trip to a farm. John greeted me with “Are those the shoes you’re gonna wear?”
Unprepared for the muddy trail that awaited us I looked at him and said “lets go.” As we walked I buttered him up with questions I don’t recall the answers to. I like talking because it helps ease people into the idea of me sticking my camera into their face.
We got to the Boar and Sows and he fed them pears as he explained how he didn’t use antibiotics on his pigs. After about a half hour I told him to walk ahead hoping I could find an genuine moment.
On my way out bought some bacon. We exchanged goodbyes and I got in my car. About a half mile down the road I looked down at my shoes. Disgusting.
At least the bacon was good.
"Why are you going to the Falls?" asked the newsroom. "Because I want to cover the fight" I replied. I’ve only been afforded the opportunity to cover two boxing assignments in my years with the papers. There is something about boxing that feels historic. Most of the time it’s two men that have never met beating each other until they can’t. The fighter on the ground spent most of the match either complaining or hugging the other. Not the best strategy. He lost. Art shot for the two papers only ran in one. This particular one didn’t make the cut.
Assignmentless on St. Patricks day my newsroom greeted me with a familiar “go find something”. I went where any of us would go when given a roamer on this sacred Irish holiday, I went to a bar. Alone and entranced by the patrons drinking; this unidentified woman didn’t notice me until the very moment i pressed the shutter. It was my favorite photo and I at least wanted to it have as a secondary. I asked if she would give me her name. She said “No.”, I said “Shit.”