night falls on me

while the night is still ahead © Laura Kicey

It is best to be shown things when we are ready to see them.

Shooting at night has always been a huge challenge for me. Nightblindness. Lens slow or completely unwilling to focus at all. Tripod lugging or camerashake. Implied dangers of wandering around at night, alone.

It is autumn now, night comes early. I need to keep my eyes open...

but wait

Three posts, one day, unheard of. My memory is bad, and perhaps getting worse.

Last night as I was having a photowalk around Ambler, which turned into more of a phonewalk, I found myself getting honked at by a random car. They pulled off and lo and behold, it was Kevin Cornell who had come to my opening. He and his wife came back down to look at the show again and they decided to purchase grease fire! And they were hoping to bump into me.

I think I'm being stalked. But that is ok as long as it brings sales. My third!

Thanks Kim and Kevin!! By the by, he is an amazing illustrator, check out his site and feed the bear (see the 'work' section) at the very least.

trust, nettle geranium

Originally uploaded by Beyonce Knowles it all.

Once in a while it is good to break up the all-me-monotony with somebody else's poetry.

the last day of summer

fair trade © Laura Kicey

Last night I spent a couple hours on the phone with one of my college roommates who I had not talked to in years. She apparently had googled me this weekend looking for a phone number (but didn't find it, sigh of relief) but instead spent some time reading into the rather too numerous sites that feature things either I have written or have been written about me. Multiple times in the past month people I haven't talked to in years have been contacting me to tell me 'they've been watching me' and then tell me things about my life. Which is sometimes hilarious, sometimes sad and if I don't know them at all, downright terrifying.


coverage © Laura Kicey

We both came to realize in the *cough* years since graduating college and sharing our tiny room together how very much we shaped each other. Despite how different we were then and probably even more different now.... we both shared this inability to stop working. I think we even enjoyed it in a sick way, leading our hermit-like existences together.


untold © Laura Kicey

As co-habitating raging balls of stress, we weren't always kind to each other. But somehow we both managed to come out on the other side with love and respect for one another. I look back on myself then, the distant past, and the recent past that is being shown to me through other's eyes. So many things have changed in the past months and years, in me and around me, but really in the end the things that really matter and the people that really matter have a way of making their way back. Even if they never really left. Time softens the edges. Here is a fresh start. The last day of Summer, the first day of Autumn. Begin.


love company © Laura Kicey

painted lady

An incredibly talented reader in Montréal, Québec, one Ms. Karine Léger sent me a message today to share a painting inspired by one of my photos.


claire © Karine Léger

Thank you so much Karine. I love all your paintings, but this is a true honor.

(I hope you do not mind that I post it, I was very excited, I have linked to you your website in the sidebar.)

you have the right to remain silent

When I met the reporter, I immediately had a good feeling about the outcome and I was not wrong. KILLER HEADLINE REGINA!! And the article is fantastic!



Here it is, a portion of the mammoth feature on me and my photography in this week's Ticket. Read it all here

Thanks to Regina Rahill and The Ticket for everything!

lower story

To pick up somewhere near where I left off, my wobbly kneecap and I are nestling up to a big pillow so that we might finish the story. Nevermind that I completely neglected adventures from two weekends ago whence I met up with my favorite publicist, fellow photogoblogger and avid seen but not heard reader, Dominic.

So the evening of the opening went far too fast to really sit down and talk to the people I really wanted to spend time with. I am thus far unaware of any major faux pas I might have committed. Snapshot! courtesy David Robson and Reflection-free night vision courtesy Addie Plum.

We dined at Agavé, I on crispy fish tacos, y'know, the ones I was supposed to have while in San Fran but managed to avoid. Afterwards, the stragglers went to a bar for a spell. It was an exceptionally full night and day. That afternoon, Mr. D and I had gone out to lunch and stumbled upon me in the Upper Dublin Enterprise. They had used 'equipped', the not-so-naughty version.

Saturday was to be a big day, since D and I had been working out the details of busting into a 'new' abandonment (new to us) about an hour's drive away. So we gathered our maps and found it. Friends had encountered problems with security patrols recently. So we started off on a nervous foot, knowing we would have a long walk to the grounds ahead of us. We cased the joint very thoroughly, trying to determine the least conspicuous point of entry of the three.


sapling © Laura Kicey

Having chosen one, we made our way toward it on foot. And almost immediately we were spotted by neighbors working in their yard, two houses away from the road that only leads to the gate, clearly marked as private property etc. Anxiety starts to inflame. We pass the gate and walk slowly on. Noting that there is basically nowhere to hide. One side of the path is a steep dropoff. The other, knee high grass. As we walk on and question each other back and forth, D spots PennDot trucks up the road and dives into a patch of woods, taking me with him. Hoping to find a woodsy way in, we start making our way into the woods, through streams and muck. The mosquitos began to eat us alive.

Fully knowing the delights that await us on the other end no longer seems enough for us to keep trudging onward. So we stop and turn back. Jointly deciding that attacking the asbestos factory to make our way to the second floor would be less taxing. So we did.


aim high © Laura Kicey

We actually covered a lot of ground that previously I thought was too unstable. It probably was extremely unstable, especially after a rain. By making our way to the far end of a building that kept us out of its basement only by the hair of our chiny chin chins and a thinning layer of rotting wood, we accessed 1. a ramp into the basement 2. the remodeled section of the complex via a hole in the sheetrock.


repeat repeat © Laura Kicey

Whatever work had been done on this building is very much in the process of being undone by the rival paintball teams in Ambler. They've broken out most of the new windows. Put huge holes through the sheetrock, and tagged everywhere. We found a wobbly set of stairs that lead to the second story. Which you could not pay me enough to walk out on. Doubling back, we made our way into the basement.

I get frustrated quickly in the dark. I panic when I can't see and more annoyed when I can see well enough but my camera can't. I struggle with long exposures, getting the setting right on my flash, and getting things vaguely in focus.


tendril © Laura Kicey

The basement was terrifying in this respect. Cut off from vision and control... plus I was being constantly dripped on. Our tiny flashlights barely touched the darkness. The basement under the remodeled portion apparently leads to Hell. The long hall lined with columns was deeply flooded, light couldn't reach its end. It was amazing.

I got edgy after spending very little time underground. We moved out and went to visit the building where I shot calligraphic. It had been so long since I had been back, I wanted to see how much was still intact. Fortunately it was still there, untouched. We wandered around playing at portraits and self-portrait duels with the remaining daylight.


flood © Laura Kicey

It was a fantastic weekend and a breathtaking adventure. I had the best of everything for days on end... I am very, very lucky.

no introduction necessary

Photo by Dan Marcolina


Subtle, really subtle.

squid marks

Chained as I am, sat with my legs propped up on the radiator by my desk, icing my knee to reduce the swelling, it seems poifect time for a blog entry. And who wants to clean mud out of the bath tub anyway?

Since everything went so well for so many days on end, it is fitting to end the weekend by going to the basement to do laundry and slipping and falling on the foul mudslick floor and damaging my already unhappy knee. Grrrr.

It is red and swollen and I can't bend it but I think I will live....

by my computer and never move again.

Thusday morning started with a sloppy hitch: it was pouring out. This was the morning I was to hang the show, so, armed with my battalion of garbage bags, I wrapped everything up, donned my trusty Russian Mail Order Bride hat and stuffed the trunk of my car. When I had all the pieces together in one room, it all looked like so much. When I got down to the gallery and started the selection process, seeing the pieces in relation to the space, they all rather shrank.



Aside from noticing that one of my frames does not meet correctly, and will not, no matter how I will it and turn purple from exertion, everything went in smoothly. And looked good, even better with the final lighting arrangement. I was pleased and more so, relieved. The curators, Mark and Karen, were helpful and happy with the selection.

Having the entire day off, I met up with the radiant Ms. Regina Rahill, staff photographer at The Ticket, for coffee and interview probing. She was great fun to talk to. This last week, The Ticket ran one of my photos with an extended caption to announce the opening. Next week, Ms. Rahill's piece will be accompanied by a number of my photos. After the interview, she and I walked down to the gallery and she managed to take a few shots of me with the wildly reflective cases, sipping my iced coffee through a straw, me: rain-soaked and messy. This... is also going to run, I think. Though I think I am supposed to dress nicely tomorrow. Just in case

Afterwards I was ready to collapse but was picked up by one Mr. D... from whom I received (among other things) a fantastic birthday present: a fluffy pink flamingo marionette. Quite astounding. I was most pleased. I had decided I wanted a new lighting fixture in my kitchen and mac & cheese. So we went to Ikea and I had my birthday dinner of meatballs, accompanied by said cheesy indulgence, seated with a tiny plush octopus... though I did not get a new light, I got my fill.

Friday morning the rain came in waves, slowing but never seeming to completely stop. Until the sun burst forth at 3pm. Before 5.30 we had people off the street coming through, puppies and children prancing around.

This will have to be continued tomorrow as I 1. took zero pictures of the opening, attendees, post-celebration, etc. 2. am realizing that once I get up from my chair, I don't want to sit back down because my knee is really stiff and it hurts. So I am going to bed.

Before doing so, I want so say thank you to everyone who contributed their time, two cents, thoughts, wishes, muscle and presence to this whole very crazed process. It was felt, through and through, whether you made it to the opening or not. It was not wasted, I am the better for it.

I need to go elevate my limbs now.

chantepleure

aging gracefully © Laura Kicey

Today: emotional turnstile.
Phone calls, text messages, emails, IMs... all people I haven't heard from in eons... they have all came out of the woodwork at once.

Instead of a birthday card, I got a letter from the DA about the sentencing hearing for the robbery that happened almost a year ago.


I'm scattered....

the day before

shift © Laura Kicey

I was going through my blog visitors log and noticed someone from Australia, the date of their visit was September 11th. Our today is still the 10th. September has all rather crept up on me. This week especially, with all the things it marks both personally and on an enormous scale.

I remember five years ago tomorrow, the day before my 24th birthday, I decided I would go into my then-place of work at the crack of dawn. So I got on the bus in Nutley, NJ around 6.30am and was in Midtown Manhattan bit after 7am. I was plannning on printing pieces for my portfolio so I could go look for a new job elsewhere, I was very unhappy there. I wanted to change my life, starting that day. How things did change.

Somewhere it is already tomorrow. I remember.

out of step

all-day breakfast at tiffany's © Laura Kicey

Monte Cristos with syrup. Wrinkled venetian blind in pink and green. Stale smoky air. Chrome and neon. Failed shopping mission made better with fries on the side.

This weekend I need to amend all the stuff I have not done or done but done wrong... I did indeed make a mistake on my framing and all my hangers need to be shifted. I should probably open the frames and remove the bottom tape affixing the print to the matte.. some are buckling already. I should hand out postcards in Center City. I should shop for something new I feel fabulous in. And try to ignore the chunk of change I just laid out on getting an ad to be played before movies at the Ambler Theater for a month.


spangled © Laura Kicey

More reports of people traveling absurdly great distances to attend the opening.

No pressure.

(hyperventilating)

I am about to forget my birthday. But I think that is okay, considering maybe everyone else will forget it too.

connectivity fee

dialogue © Laura Kicey

Redecorating wiht breakfast cereal is probably not the best way to deal with anxieties. But this time next week, I will be considering it. I am completely preoccupied with the show and am trying desperately to distract with anything... which makes me feel like I am neglecting it and so I inevitably return my thougts to that. A friend from Toronto is coming to the show. Yes, you Gail. It blows my mind to consider a year and half ago all the people I didn't know who are now filling up my life. Some people I've yet to meet, but whom I've shared so much with already.

I know, its a little show in little Ambler. It is really the people all along the way, they have made the difference. Where this is taking my emotions is all new territory.


Oh and I might be going to Poughkeepsie next month. Anyone know anything about Poughkeepsie? Another stranger-friend wants me to meet her half way and that seemed like the right spot on the map...

rising from flames

invisible © Laura Kicey

I'm sitting here with Maggs on my lap, filling my belly with Cholle and realizing that even though I cannot top the adventures of last weekend I can say I feel rested for the first time in weeks. And that is not exiciting blog material whatsoever.

This weekend I started methodically mapping all of my photos on flickr (further proof of how little else I did). I love this because a. I adore maps b. I have a terrible memory c. I can actually spatially relate one place to another as usually I have a horrible sense of where I am in relation to where I have been.

Oh this town was HERE?! We were right next to this and didn't go there!?

I like being able to track 'accomplishments' or at the very least, the amount of ground I have covered.



pop © Laura Kicey

Next to be plotted is Phoenixville, where I went today. I drove through Valley Forge National Park, for the first time ever, to get there. It was complete mayhem. And didn't look compelling at all.
Phoenixville itself has a lot of little gems, a few rugged industrial patches, slightly rundown (but not terrifying) neighborhood streets, huge sagging Victorian houses, overgrown alleyways..... and it smelled like a laundromat and BBQ on the grill. Now that could just be because it was Labor Day, but it helps me get excited about the place. I want to eat it and wrap myself in it, ok? Ahem. It is pretty big... bigger than Ambler, might even have a couple of interesting shops of the thrify-antiquey variety... plus a couple gallery spaces I might need to look into when everything is actually open. Though I should really point the efforts at The City proper. One thing at a time.


pointers © Laura Kicey

Labors of the Weekend

The framing is finished due to the combined efforts of Daniel and myself. Thanks Daniel!

Things I learned/observed from this process:

•Pulling the sticky paper off the acrylic is hard.

•I don't think I can be persuaded to cut my own mattes. Ever.

•If I was really rich I would have had way more larger pieces than I do and I feel a tinge of regret. I might have gone even bigger for some, like 16x20.

•I have made peace with signing my pieces. Am trying to gracefully accept that I am selling 'pieces of art' not 'just photos'. I think?

•I stand firm in my refusal to number things. That just seems really pretentious.

•I don't think my photos have subjects per se.

•When I had all the framed pieces propped up sitting around me in the room, I felt like I was in a room full of people I knew and felt kind of emotional. Which is weird. It made me feel strange about selling them.

•Three people, ones I know, have already asked to buy something.

•Since I have no basis for comparison I have probably done something really wrong, but won't know it until the day we hang the show or perhaps after.

Final curatorial choices were made also... unless someone pitches a fit and convinces me the severed deer leg shouldn't be in the show. Mom tried and failed. That is a challenge people! I need to fuss over some stuff on my website tonight. And do laundry. Write an artist's statement. (Hohohohhahaha!). Make a piece list for the window. And price everything (belly laugh).

The plan from here is to find something passable to wear to the event. Turn 29 peacefully in a week and half. Hang the show two days later. Sleep the remainder of that day. Go to work the next day and leave early. Open the show, see people: ones I don't know, hardly ever see, am trying to hide from, am glad to have there, or am dying to see... then make squillions of dollars and not sound like a dunce or turn magenta.

hang me

me and the kids © Laura Kicey

For some reason I don't feel like typing.

All done framing, minus one....

and exhale.

pick up lines

Ambler Gazette TODAY.

Tomorrow the world.

Or not.