I am declaring that we're in them-the dog days of summer. If it's too hot and too humid, if all you want to do is hunker down with an icy drink where its cool. Dog Days. If the idea of being out at the beach is like death to you- that's it. Dog Days. Here in Boston it's hot, it stinks and everyone's moving a little slower with more deliberation as though things are harder. After last winter it seems almost sacrilegious to say anything about it being too hot but, face it, it is too hot!

Dog Days.

 "You think he's going to get to something at least tangentially related to photograhy in this blog?"

"I hope so. Guy's a piece of work."

Here it is. I've been getting a little relief from the Monsters work currently under construction on the new show to open in September called "Wild Thing" at 555 Gallery opening September 12 (hint hint, please mark your calendars). We had a day this week framing and will have another next week. Thank you to my helpers all. 

Actually going on concurrently is the 8 x 10 work we've been scanning and I've been printing that I wrote about here 1 and here 2. That one is ongoing. Man, it is good to see theses pictures again after all these years. I am printing them 30 x 24 inches on a most wonderful paper: Innova Smooth Cotton High White, a mat watercolor paper.

But this one, this post is to serve as notification for new work just up on the site called the Tomato Portfolio, which you can see by clicking here. Well, new work yes, but not just shot, as I made them last year.

"What the hell is a Tomato Portfolio?"

"You know, I've got no idea. Let's take a look."

This is the story:

Driving south from Boston to teach at Penland School of Crafts in North Carolina in May 2014 I stopped at this Tomato warehouse under constructon in rural Georgia.

This is the kind of place where the tomatoes we get at the supermarket are grown. 'Factory' hothouse tomatoes devoid of flavor, with tough, bruise resistant skins, little color and that last a very long time. Why rural Georgia? I assume because the land and labor is cheap, the climate is right and the shipping routes are good.

I was driving by on the interstate and saw this way off on the horizon in very flat country. It was hot and it was May. Any idea what the place would be like in July or August? Fierce heat. So I stopped, asked at the trailer if I could photograph, went in and made some pictures, got back to my car, got in, and drove off. 

"So, let me see if I've got this right. Guy calls the pictures the Tomato Portfolio and there's not one freakin tomato in the whole group of pictures?"

"Yup"

"Guy's a piece of work."

Take a look (here), let me know what you think (here) and remember, you can subscribe. It won't hurt to join, and has no downside (except reading the blog) as I don't sell the email list or use it for any reason except to send you notice that there is a new post up.

And stay cool.

This blog may digress a little. You see, I am going to write about an obsession with rock, more specifically, rock faces or rock walls. When in Utah in 2010 these became a "thing" for me and I would photograph them often. Yes, I know, this is overworked, overwrought, a cliché and even boring. Doesn't matter, I'm putting them out there anyway.

We'll start here with some of the Utah pictures:

If you are perceptive and perhaps a long time reader of these blogs you may have noticed  a distinct inclination for me to make things like this that I photograph #1 planal, meaning the camera is in parallel to the thing being photographed, and #2 into an abstracted landscape, often with a perceived horizon.

Of course, the rock walls in Utah are simply amazing. And how often have you heard me say that I am interested in the thing I am photographing? Usually, it is what it becomes as a photograph that interests me. 

Northern Georgia is another place that does a similar thing, but with its red dirt.

While this series is technically called "4652 Brandon Mill Road" in Lake Rabun, Georgia it is nicknamed "Africa" for the obvious reason of:

I know what you're thinking... "what is this guy smoking?" All I can say in defense of these is that you have to see them as prints as they are gorgeous. I used to make pictures like this in 8 x 10 black and white and now in digital, for all intents and purposes, with comparable quality. 

Decay is a prevailing theme for me and and is reinforced by the Mutter Museum and Reggio Emilia series from several years ago.

Remember, to see these well view them on a real monitor and click on them to see them larger on your screen.