it’s very clear

I just learned the other day that my new favorite tune was the swan song of one of the greatest musical minds of all time. Our Love Is Here to Stay was composed by George Gershwin and the lyrics were written by his older brother Ira, for some long forgotten depression era musical. It was released after he had died of a brain tumor. When I read this I as taken back, what a perfect song to leave the world, like a tip from the other side of the galaxy. It is one of the deepest most succinct meditations on art making in a universe ruled by entropy.

Sometimes I question why I bother making pictures when it seems such a waste of time in the face of a world of apathetic stares. Pictures are my life but every thing ends eventually hell did you know the pyramids were buried under sand when the British found them, then they pillaged the fuck out of them and burned mummified slaves in the furnaces of the trains heading back to port. Likewise they are finding Mayan Pyramids every day underneath one thousand years of jungle vines and bat guano.

Gershwin tell us not to worry about all of that, that the work itself is the point of living and to be strong and smart enough to be able to make meaningful work is the Point of it all. We only have one life to live and the only way to even pretend to outlive your body is through hard work, and even then its just some notes on paper. Its a hard pill to swallow, that’s why the greatest voices always sing it, and they sing it often.

Think about Billie Holiday, all she really ever had was music, every thing else just kicked her in the face, racism, terrible lovers, heroin. I get so sad when I think about what the world did to her, then I hear this song and I remember why we go through it anyways.

TECHNICAL DETAILS all pictures from a roll of tr-x that I found in the bottom of a suitcase, I’m pretty sure its from like 3 years ago, shot through a broken original Nikonos… man all the pictures look like a dream from paris 1919…

PS Inspired by my Friend Traverse Robinette!

join me for pictures and good times at All Visual Boston Slideshow

I’ll be there, I got a bunch of work in (I wish I remember what I submitted) and its the day before my birthday so I was gonna try and make a night of it, come on down, I tell every one this but no one listens, Trevor Powers has special Powers dude, just having my work shown during the first event got me a show, a reason to be, and a sexy ladies number or three… hey that rhymed! Its the night before my 26th birthday so please come and we’ll make a night of it! What I mean to say is just come and bring me nothing but cornbread and cigarettes, I have no use for anything else…

PS this is my 96th post in 2 years, whodda thunk it, not Barbra Bosworth thats for damn sure!

About Eli: a short story by Maria Kazvan

Taken with permission from her blog http://maria-kazvan.blogspot.com/

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The sun was just waking up, setting on fire bright green leaves inside of mysterious kingdoms of  trees, turning on the light inside the nests of sleepy birds. The sun was screaming to whole little town: “Wake up, sleepyhead!”
Small Eli was lying on his bed, partly covered by soft blanket. Greedy bedcover was warm only in that parts, which touched boy’s thiny bones. Blanket was taking little Eli’s energy, we can even imagine, that boy was the one, who gives his warmth to bedcover, in the middle of cold spring nights, but there was an agreement between these two.
Eli wasn’t asleep for whole night, he was creating his plan, imagining all the details of it, waiting for clock alarm. When tiny noisy machine finally tells him, that town is going to wake up in half an hour, and everything will starts again: stupid, little, senseless dances of people around.
Shorty got free from the weight of his bedcover and started looking through his equipment. Eli prepared
all these thing the day before, there was a rope – three meters, linen bag, you could put good ten kilos of apples in it, and three pieces of the best, first rated, fragrant sausage – this was the only way to lure the
Beast, most ferocious enemy of Eli. The Beast has giant fangs and clutches, which were as sharp as
blade for shaving, Eli’s dad was using.
Eli started to thinking, that he has only few hours before he will meet the Beast, little boy was imagining how his wild enemy is sleeping now, with full belly, after the night of hunting. Fear made holes inside of small boy’s body, covered by transparent, yet non-sunburnt skin. Boy was dreaming about his plan, thinking about smallest details, projecting pictures right under his eyelids. His milk teeth were shaking, his body was shaking, right when the image in his head started to be too scary and dangerous.
Boy knew the taste of Beast’s beats on his own skin. He knew, how it feel, when Beast is hitting you into the fingers and legs, Eli knew how his own blood smells and how badly Beast’s hiss sound. Eli was so afraid of these sounds, all the time he heard it, his heart stopped running for a minute and then started jumping inside of his chest like a small bird, trying to get out of bone cage, his heart was stopping for a minute and then tried to overtake all the lost pumps. The Beast could find Eli even on the top of the biggest, highest tree. Turning little boy out from the best spots, highest places of the beautiful, fragrant apple or nut trees.
But one day happened something really terrible, and it was the last drop. The Beast was laughing,  making jokes out of small Eli, in front of his own gang, ruining his reputation of fearless and strong leader. Terrible Beast dare to beat boy with it claws, while whole band of human children was watching. And that after Eli already told everyone, that he tame this wild thing. This was a peak of disrespect. Eli couldn’t allow himself to take this, whole band was standing upon his courage and militancy, upon his fearless temper.
All the neighbourhoods was talking about Eli, his courage took small souls, small bellies of other  children start hurting, after they heard descriptions of all fights. Stories was coming from one small lips to others, from one small mouth to another. There was stories about fights, about revenge. Boys were fighting in the middle of abandoned places, defending their best spots in the yard, on the playgrounds, defending their girls. They loose their milk teeth, their blood, they got bruises, they used rocks, fists and curse language, the last one was for defeated, the most of the time. You could hear whole types of curse language, flying from the tear-stained faces. Eli was a spirit of his gang, he was a tutor, quiet and wise. He couldn’t let the Beast took all his
authority, he was struggling for this too long and too hard.
Human child was waiting for the moment, when Beast, will come out of his nest. It was far from the noon
time. Sun was warming his favourite planet, embracing her with his long soft beams. The world was scared of the shadows he was droping on the ground. It was almost an evening. Hiding in dark room, Eli was stretching out his long neck, trying not to overlook the Beast. He had to entrap wild thing into this shed. That’s why he prepared those best, delicious pieces of sausage. He carefully put one piece , than another, and third one was already in the shed. The third and most important! That piece should work out, that piece should catch the Beast!
Looking for the last time, boy found the wild thing by his eyes. He came from the corner, taking steps
by his giant quiet paws. The Beast wasn’t afraid, he was an owner of this yard, he was the king. But then he felt the smell of the meat, sweet and tasty. He run up to the fragrant piece and bite off this red flesh, made on the factory. He was tearing his spoil with big fangs. When he finished first piece, he saw the second one, and eat it too. Then he felt the thread of smell of third piece. Eli saw and felt the fear in the Beast’s eyes, even if it’s last only for one tiny moment. Sometimes Eli felt this way too, right before the fights. But Beast run for the third piece, and here was a moment, which for boy was waiting for such a long time, dreaming, painting images in his head, now everything was real.
Boy already had a bag, prepared for his black affair. So he dropped it on the Beats and then jumped on it,
weighted down the wild thing, by his whole skinny body. Then carefully took a rope  and tie a knot. He got some bites though, but now he didn’t care about any pain in the world. The Beast was screaming and scratching, it was angry, then it started to purr, sly Beast knew, how people like all those cat’s sounds. It was begging for mercy. Whole street could hear this nice purring. But Eli wasn’t that simple, those things couldn’t touch him anymore, he was thinking only about revenge. Eli was hating this big cat so much, he could only image his death.
Boy wanted to put his burden on his back, but bag was too heavy, so he started towing it, the cat could feel all the smallest rocks with his spine and his bones. Little boy took the Beast to the garden, big grave was digged in the middle of it. He touched bag with his arm, trying to feel the warmth of the body, for the last time. Boy wanted to remember his victory till the end of his life, and that touch could help him. Then he took the bag in his small hands and drop the cat in the pit. Kitty shout, and it was the sign,  he just felt, realized the coldness and hardness of the ground with his fluffy belly and thin bones. The cat was full of the life and healthy but now he could only felt, how trapped he was. Eli started to bury his enemy alive. He was throwing pieces of ground, then  he started to trample it, to jumping on it. The last part of his job, was to cover this ill, sick place with a grass, so he did it.
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Eddy here, and here is the story again in her native Ukrainian
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І ще українською, оскільки я бачу, що хтось таки читає цей блог в Україні, тому вам буде зручніше та цікавіше цією + там, звичайно, менше помилок, ніж у англійському варіанті, та й яскравіше це все виглядає.
____Про Ілая___
   Сонце тільки-тільки прокидалось, запалювало яскраво-зелене листя в таємних царствах дерев, вмикало світло в гніздах сонних пташок, гукало до сплячого містечка: -Агов!
Малий Ілай лежав у своєму ліжку, наполовину обгорнутий м*яким покривалом. Жадібна ковдра була теплою лише у тих місцях, якими вона торкалась тоненьких кісточок хлопчиська, вбирала його енергію, можна було б навіть подумати, що це малий грів її, а не вона рятувала його від холодних весняних ночей. Проте, між цими двома була таємна домовленість.
Ілай не спав усю ніч, продумуючи свій план до найменших деталей, заздалегіть приготований дзвінок будильника нагадав йому, що от-от усе місто прокинеться, заметушиться у своєму мізерному вічному танку. Хлопчисько звільнився від тягара ковдри і почав переглядати спорядження, приготоване ним напередодні: трьохметрову мотузку, полотняний мішок, у який вмістилися б добрячі десять кілограмів яблук, та три шматки найсмачнішої, добірної, запашної ковбаси – бо лише так можна було виманити та упіймати Звіра, найлютішого ворога Ілая, озброєного велетенськими іклами та пазурями, гострими, неначе лезо для гоління, яким користувався батько малого.
До зустрічі з Тварюкою залишалось усього декілька годин, адже зараз, він мабуть спить, наїджений, після нічного полювання. Страх пробивався із маленького тільця, вкритого прозорою, ще не загорілою на сонці шкірою хлопчика. В своїй уяві він переглядав усі пункти вигаданого ним плану, занурювався, цокотав від страху молочними зубами. Він проходив усі етапи подорожі, з кропітливою увагою малював під своїми повіками кожну, найменшу деталь, і тихенько підстрибував, здригався, коли його мозок показував найстрашніші моменти.
Адже звір вже не раз робив йому боляче: кусав у пальці та ноги, роздерав шкіру до крові, сичав та шипів страшнючими голосами. Ці моторошні звуки змушували серце малого завмирати на декілька секунд, а потім знову, битись у грудях, неначе маленька пташка, що намагається вирватись із долонь. Його серце зупинялось, а потім бігло, наздоганяло усі пропущені ним удари. Звір діставав Ілая навіть на деревах, виганяючи малого з найкращих, найзручніших та найвищих місць на верхівках запашних горіхів та яблунь. І останньою краплею стала жахлива подія: коли Звір висміяв авторитет малого, сильного та безстрашного хлопчиська, адже саме таким він був у очах своїх друзів. Лютий Звірюка посмів ударити хлопця важкими кігтями й утекти у присутності усієї банди дітей людських. І це після того, як Ілай розповів своїм друзям про те, що він приручив кусюче, жорстоке Створіння. Такої неповаги він, як ватажок, не міг собі дозволити, адже усе стадо дітисьок трималось на його войовничості та безстрашності.
   З усіх околиць містечка доходили страшні розповіді, які захоплювали дитячі душі, від яких починало крутити у маленьких животиках. Історії передавались із одних маленьких вуст, у інші, і усі ці оповідки були про те, як Ілай помстився за когось із своєї банди, або ж описи війн, які розгорталися на закинутих будовах. Він був наставником, духом усієї зграї, найрозумнішим та найтихішим, у нього запитували, з ним радились, його боялись. Причини боїв були найрізноманітніші: за право користуватись найкращими місцями на ігрових майданчиках, або хтось із ворожої зграї ненароком образив сестру його друга – Квіту, битва за її честь пролила не одну краплю крові, і не один молочний зуб загубили бійці, набитий був не один десяток синців, у бій йшло все: каміння, кулаки, обрАзи, якими найчастіше, все ж, користувались переможені, заплакані обличчя.
Ілай не міг дозволити собі, щоб якась Звірюка зруйнувала те, над чим малий так довго працював. Хлопчисько обдумував план декілька днів, вживався у роль, і нарешті наважився втілити задумане. Людське дитя дочекалося того моменту, коли Звір, ситий та щасливий вийде зі свого кубла. На вулиці вже буде далеко за південь.
Сонце гріло Землю, обгортаючи свою улюблену красуню теплими золотими косами, світ відкидав, жахався своїх довгих тіней. Заховавшись у темній коморі, Ілай витягував довгу шию з-за дверей кожної секунди, намагаючись не пропустити Звіра. Наступним кроком було – заманити тварюку у сарай, для цього малий приготував шматки найсмачнішої ковбаси. Він акуратно поклав один за 10 метрів від входу у кімнату, інший – за три, а третій був уже в сараї. Третій та найважливіший, на нього Ілай покладав усю надію, він мав спрацювати, цей третій шматок!
Виглянувши ще раз, малий побачив Звіра, який вийшов з-за рогу, ступаючи своїми гігантськими м*якими тихими лапами по теплому асфальту, нікого не боячись, відчуваючи себе власником цього подвір*я. Звір відчув солодкий запах м*яса, обережно підійшов до першого шматка, обнюхав його та з*їв, вгризаючись гігантськими іклами у червону, перероблену на заводі, плоть. Потім, із ще більшим апетитом, підбіг до наступного, та миттєво проковтнув його. І далі, відчувши ниточку запаху третього шматка, у кімнаті, тварюка переборола свій страх, який хоч й тривав усього декілька мікросекунд, Ілай усе ж помітив ці вагання, адже він сам дуже часто відчував такі миті, перед великими боями. Звір обережно забіг до кімнатки, цього хлопчисько й чекав, цієї продуманої, тисячі разів пережитої в голові, миті помсти.
У малого на поготові був мішок, якого він накинув на Звіра, стрибнув та придушив його усім своїм худорлявим тільцем. Далі він обережно закрив тварюку у торбині, і все ж отримав декілька ударів кігтями. Звір бився й кричав, кликав на поміч, просив вибачення та погрожував. Звір м*явчав, і зрештою, почав муркотіти, і муркіт цей було чути на всю маленьку вуличку. Він добре знав, як цей звук діє на людей, мила котяча тріскотня, проте малий був незворушний. Не цього разу, за всі роки свого котячого існування, Звір так встиг насолити Ілаю, що жодне муркотіння не розтопило б наміри та бажання людського дитяти.
Добряче обмотавши мотузкою торбину, Ілай спробував закинути мішок на плечі, проте ця ноша була для нього надто важкою, тому він почав просто волокти її за собою, по жорсткому та шорсткому асфальті. Котяра відчував на своєму хребті удари від кожного найдрібнішого камінчика. Ілай відтягнув свого найлютішого ворога у садок, посеред якого вже була викопана яма. Хлопчисько ще раз, востаннє, доторкнувся до теплоти тільця, яка пробивалась крізь полотно, неначе намагався запам*ятати свою перемогу, неначу ця теплота була її доказом. Він швирнув мішок у яму, котяра видавив жалісний писк, у знак того, що щойно відбувся контакт із твердою землею, яку він усідомив усіма своїми кістками, своїм м*яким пухнастим животом. Ситий та здоровий звір опинився у пастці, з якої йому було вже не вибратись. Ілай засипав свого найбільшого, ще живого, ворога крихкою землею, втоптав її, обгорнув місце, на якому півгодини тому була яма,акуратно зрізаним газоном.

this is just a picture from lifes other side

last act of the desperate by Eddy Pula
last act of the desperate, a photo by Eddy Pula on Flickr.
This song was written in the 19th century, it was a best seller when the machine that played your music was an educated daughter seated at the families piano and you fed her tea and sheet music. Hank Williams does a killer version of it too but because its his birthday, Woody does it here… I think its trying to tell us that there will always be suffering, so just try and help out every once in a while, because sometimes you’ll come across a mother and babe, in the harbor light glare see them shiver, out casts no one will save… but god help her she leaps,  theirs no one to weep, and that’s just a picture from lifes others side.

for thursdays dogs where ever they may be ****UPDATED**** with sad but true news

Jack was a good friend to me, now he’s gonna make new friends for a living, he was therapeutic dog if I ever did see one, he helped me, my friends and everyone, Jack when you get lonesome just stare at the moon and know I’m somewhere thinking of you

****UPDATE**** dogs can’t read blogs…. So Jack freaked out his first nite in his new home and now he’s back at square one… if only he knew to look at the moon… If you know somewhere cool for jack to go would you contact 413-221-1705?

Questions and Answers and Compliments from the North Country: After Hornstein

This Mornings Email

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Hello Eddy,

My name is Johan, I’m from the Netherlands and I’m a beginner TLR user. First of all my compliments on you’re photo’s and inspiring work especially your photos called “Painter” and “Reading On Bench” . Seeing you photos and the video’s in which you talk passionate about the photographs you shoot gave me that extra push to buy a beautiful Yashica 635 from 1957.
I’ve unfortunately don’t have the space to develop my owen photo’s however, I doe wan’t to start scanning my own negatives. My question to you is do you scan your own negatives and if so, which scanner do you use.
Thanks in advance for your answer.
Kind Regards,
Johan Voeten
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Howdy and congrats on the TLR, they are so great once your brain starts flipping the light left to right!
the great thing about medium format is that almost any scanner with a light source on top will work great, unlike 35mm even 600 dpi is more than enuff for web use when you have a 2 and 1/4 negative, at 1200 you can make decent 8×10′s! I use a cheapo epson 2450, got it new/old stock (never sold, new in box!) for $50 of the ebay. A epson 3800 will be better than that and probably run around $200, the best in home scanning is a v700 for like $500-700 bucks, I’ve made 16×20′s out of those and seen amazing 30×40′s off of 6×9 cm or 4×5 inch film. But don’t worry about that yet, just scan with whatever you have, one problem is computer drivers for older scanners and newer computers, the manufacturers don’t support alot of them anymore so you can either get an old mac or pc tower for pennies and just use that for scanning (I want to do that but haven’t had the time) or Vue Scan works pretty dang well, you are suppose to pay for it but……. you can find it free if you know where to look!
Do what you feel comfortable with but for b&w, developing yourself is half the fun dude! I rate (meter or just use my eyes and memory!) my tri-x at like iso 150 so I over expose about 1.5 stops (so if the meter says 125 at 22 I do about 125 at 11.5 or f16) and then pull (stop developing before the box time) about 1.5 minutes so instead of 10 minutes I do about 8.5-9 minutes and I get amazing shadow detail and it keeps the highlights in check! The negs are perfect for scanning or traditional darkroom printing, I only use tri-x or hp5 and I use them in all formats from 35mm up to 4×5 (and once 8×10!) and because I keep the film, iso and developer consistent I can throw almost any light or contrast situation at it and come away with something worth printing or scanning! I’m kind of dumb and hyper so its important to have atleast a few things constant. Hope this helps and thanks for the kind words!
Eddy Pula

Fast Eddy’s Silver Sale On Old Cotton Rag

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Hello Everybody, I’m here to kick off the first ever EDDY PULA INTERNET PICTURE TAG SALE. Now remember that I’ve never done this before, so please treat me with kid gloves, and handle the prints with archival cotton gloves (naw once I get the money I don’t care what you do with them, sure is expensive toilet paper though) I stole the Idea from Michael Johnston over at The Online Photographer, his pragmatic Midwestern democratic way of getting art to the people inspired this, so Thanks Mike! Why does art have to be only in dusty museums? Why does art only have to be in ugly vainglorious McMansions? I don’t think the status quo is really the best way to disseminate pictures or ideas so instead of complaining I decided to do something about it! Also I’m broke and out of film so there’s that reason to!

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Each picture is hand printed in my darkroom (except for the finale, but we can all just wait for that) A-F are 8×10 rc prints from 35mm negatives I have shot in the past 6 weeks, those are all priced at $20, and are an open edition (but so what, grow up or shut up, its only 20 bucks, what do you need a certificate of authenticity too) but as of now, and probably forever, each print is an kinda closed edition of 3 with 1 for me!

H-Lambda (yeah I got kinda carried away and ran out of alphabet, so I switched to pig latin) are all 11×14 fiber prints from either 2 1/4 square negatives or 4×5 and are priced @ 50 bucks and there is about 5 copies of each. I sold a couple at a show last October and some got destroyed at the closing ceremonies of the famed Other Side Cafe, did you know that Nan Goldin used to show the ballad of sexual dependency there? She went to the Museum School and its only like half a mile from it but anyways I digress. If you are curios I will write a little info on the back along with my signature, like where and when the picture was taken.

Finally prints X and Z are freaking huge inkjets made with epson paper and ink, I don’t even know how big they are… wait a second for whatever reason they are 24×31 inches big and were overseen by my teacher Matt Connors, he told me I wouldn’t be allowed to take any more pictures or be let back into class till I did justice to these two and he basically taught me the proper way to photoshop and the right songs to sing to the giant epson printer so it wouldn’t screw up your pictures (they like ‘row row row your boat gently down the print, merrily merrily merrily life is but zone IV and sepia tint’) They only hung once, for a finale critique and they were well received by the likes of Frank Gohlke, Nick Nixon and Abe Morrell, so if its good enough for them… One problem is they were so heavy I had to drive push pins right through the corners, but a matte job or even cheaper, nice paper cutter will fix that and give you the slightly more even 24×30 prints, so fashionable in the salons of Paris! Other than that they are perfect! There has to be at least 200 dollars worth of ink in them so how about $200 a piece!

Each print will be shipped in a cardboard sleeve, with a mystery gift inserted, what will it be, 4×5 contact prints, some random negative, thing I find on floor? Send me your money and we’ll find out together, but just to show you the idea, here is a picture of the highlighted script I wrote for my first lecture, it was for Irina Rozovsky’s sophomore seminar at the Art Institute of Boston, I left it at home and had to make it up on the spot but they didn’t call security so I think it went well. That kind of priceless eddy memorabilia is what we are giving away today with every order, now where are you gonna find another deal like that?

Ok so here is how we are gonna do it, you pick your prize by leaving a comment on the bottom of the blog, tell me your name and which letter of the alphabet soup picture you want, that will be your claim and it’ll be in public so there won’t be any funny business, then email me at eddypula@gmail.com with your address and I’ll calculate shipping (dude I’m working with a big deal importer exporter, he even has a label maker and scale and everything!) which will be extra, but we’ll keep it as cheap as we can, even international shipping, cause this dude get and ships all over the globe! It looks like lower 48 states will cost $6 and I’m sorry but International shipping will be $20, but I’ll make it up to you foreigners with extra mystery prizes! Then you paypal me eddybula@gmail.com (weird I know but Bula is the only guy I can trust with all the monies) and I’ll sign it and make it out to your girlfriend or spinster aunt or whomever and throw in your mystery prize and its out the door with the next UPS shipment! The prints are already made so all I need is new collectors for my old and new pictures! Come on folks, pick a picture any picture, there’s a winner born every minute but you gotta be in it to win it, am I right?

romney’s america

romneys america by Eddy Pula
romneys america, a photo by Eddy Pula on Flickr.

“6 months after Romney is elected the Yankee nuclear facility will melt down and giant mutants will try and hit on normal sized chicks all the way from Maine to Greenwich Connecticut, I have the pictures I can PROVE IT”
Statement from [REDACTED] a Mental Patient in the care of Dr. Ticlea, Cooley Dickinson Hospital, 6/17/2012