domino effect

Allow me to start by fulfilling a meme since I was tagged by The Fabulous Miss B whereupon I must reveal SIX, count 'em, 6, secrets about myself.


topiary © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

Here goes nothing:

1. I have an irrational fear of perishing from radiation poisoning/gamma rays, not that I act upon it in any manner, but I do have a hard time watching movies where that comes into play, like K-19: The Widowmaker totally horrified me.

2. I cannot read analog clocks. Well, I can eventually but it takes me a little while to...um... sound it out.

3. I am left-handed.

4. I was obsessed with birds and insects as a child... and kept a large number of insect pets, including praying & Chinese mantids, several varieties of katydids, Colorado Potato Beetles, a bunch of butterflies and moths including hummingbird moths (which are amazing), and June Beetles.



5. I am mostly Ukrainian. My last name was "americanized" from a name which in the original Cyrillic sounded like "Kit-see".


albinos © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

6. I had very blond hair as a child.

Alas my friends who blog are lazy, its late and it is unlikely that I will hunt down anyone to tag to carry on with the meme.


bromeliads © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

I have good news coming in a matter of days that is far too secret yet to share here. Patience! But I will be having photographs in the December issue of Food & Wine magazine and an interview in a major Chinese magazine. Details, soon.

In other news:

Last week, to continue with my ongoing documentation of Terrain, I returned for the Harvest and got my pumpkin on. Autumn is in full swing, going from 96˙ evil-humid days to 60˙ days with chilly breezes in the blink of an eye. I picked an especially gorgeous day, arriving at the crack of dawn and leaving only after the golden hour of evening. It was also really lovely to see the Terrain posse again who are always a pleasure to work with... or near.


harvest spray © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.


lotus © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

Spectacular light, and not too shabby results.

An anonymous tip put me hot on the trail of an abandoned, burnt-out diner in inner the Philly burbs this week. Today Gwyn, Michael and I decided to take it on. Before we met up with Gwyn, Michael and I decided to case it and see if the entryway was still clear, look for eyes on us and parking. It was fairly out in the open but we decided to run with it... collected Gwyn and returned and slipped right in.


pumpkins and mushrooms © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

There had been an accidental kitchen fire several months ago, but despite this, everywhere but the site of the fire was in surprisingly good condition. Tables were still set with silverware, paper napkins that were slightly singed, and coffee cups sitting upside down on their saucers, booth seats barely covered with dust. We crept into the seating area, moving slowly behind the slightly-tinted glass. Gwyn followed me into the kitchen to look at the damage, while Michael wandered off around the counter.


orchilette © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.


lace © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

As I backtracked towards the booths, Michael whispers "There's someone coming, there's a guy on a bike and he is coming this way, we gotta get outta here." We grabbed our stuff and made our way out the back door, Michael saying he couldn't see him clearly, but he had a blue shirt and might be a bike cop.


arterial © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

Peeking around the corner, we saw nothing and shuffled back to the car, while the bike guy continued to stay put, staring into the diner door, barely visible to us. I turned for a moment just in time to see him slip around the corner and ride off.


albinos © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

We decided to see if we could get a good look at him (like if he was actually a bike cop or not) and get moving in case he saw us and called the cops.



apricot © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

Failing to catch up with him, we returned and waited in the parking lot to see if anything would "happen" and try to decide whether or not we should make a second attempt.

And thereupon we bailed. Not one photograph was had, not a camera unsheathed from its bag. Amped up on jittery adrenaline I snappily decided we should go check out one of the Peru House neighbors, Riddle House. This particular approximately mile stretch of road in Delaware County may have no less than 10 abandoned and/or vacant houses, some locked, some visible from the road, some posted, some not. Gwyn led us down a woodsy drive to a stupendous, rather strangely organized Victorian-ish house. There was grand front porch that was mostly surrounded by railings, though at one end, there was a bank of windows... with curtains.


the wind through us © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

The drive that encircled the house had a roofed portion that extended from the front porch, presumably to protect you from the elements while you hopped in your carriage. Around back there was a structure on top of which there was watchtower-like room, large and octagonal with big windows all the way around.


ashes © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

The front door was hanging open, its padlock busted and while the first floor was boarded, moving through the front room quickly lead us to the main stairway which was so bright by comparison, it seemed almost artificially lit. It was painted with rather unusual patterns that could have been painted really anytime... deco-y and abstract in pale pinks, yellows and greens. It had obviously been sepearated into apartments at some point during the 70s (noting the harvest gold kitchen appliances). There were signs of small fires on the second and third floors, no graffiti to speak of, no solid signs of squatters.


tissue © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

The watchtower had become a rather impressive grave for two turkey vultures. Strangely, there was one huge window wide open (maybe broken out) but the one vulture had died with its wings spread out in the center of the room. The other folded and tucked in the corner. It would seem that one would cancel the other out, but there they died together, looking like they had died at almost the same time.


nevermind © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

The house was filled with all sorts of interesting slopes and curves, rippled old glass, and subtle colors. The evening light made it so magical, but the trek earlier in the day, made me jump at the none-to-distant woosh of traffic and the scuttle of squirrels and birds outside the open windows.


marshlands © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

Having neglected to bring a flashlight we were cut off from the excitement that apparently is the other half of the house. Return is essential, with model, ideally. More photos to come, naturally.

The last few weeks of October are chock full of action to make up for the quickly approaching November deficit... of action and income. I'm starting to dread it more and I've been having some unexpected pain the past couple of days... hoping it just passes before I run into the Butcher for our ladder match. The hospital posse might have even forgotten about me by now. Next weekend by bosom friend Shanners becomes Mrs. McLaughlin and Michael and I are devoting our weekend to being her paparazzos. I have a few special visitors, models and a touch of trouble to get into... then hopefully, I will go vote, put Senator Obama into office, and then wizz off to the hospital.... A few drugs here, a few weeks of laying around there... and I will be good as new, we hope.


sprig © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

amender

Making time to do the things left undone... penned into the mental calendar for this last weekend. Mission mostly accomplished. As part of the Mr. The Dust Cakeday Celebrations, we headed back into the depths of Central PA, where I hadn't been for some time.


sticky fingers © Laura Kicey

Saturday morning sun shone kindly on the fire engine red walls of Saturday's Market in Middletown. We made the rounds to see what was 'new' and visit favorites, still there, eternally for sale. The difference this time round was bold new moves we both made with the vendors. Bob One, famed for signs proudly selling items for steals such as: ALL COLLECTORS PLATES NOW $5 EACH, 3 for $20.00. So Bob One came through the aisles of his stand. Looking dazed. Wearing a colander on his head.


ornate frames © Laura Kicey

He sat down and started talking to random people walking by. I stood by and listened, I engaged him a little. He told me to refer to him as the Wizard of Odd. Mr. D joined me and I suggested he shoot him now. Bob One agreed to it but demanded half of the sale of any photos sold on eBay. Dustin agreed. He moved onto playing a tiny violin and talking about how all comedians are either Jewish, Black or can dance. And how Sammy Davis Jr. was all three of these things. His anecdote chronicled Sammy getting his eye poked out on a car horn and how he got free Caddy's for the rest of his life then died before he could really get too many. And how Bob One, himself pined to be a comedian but was lacking in Jewishness, Blackness and rhythm.


bounds © Laura Kicey

Our second favorite corner of the market is inhabited by Bob Two and his sundry chromey kitchen devices and random other crap. Generally when Bob spies someone taking interest in his goods, he calls out 'Hey Lady!' and then fills you in with some tidbit of helpful info, such as price or era or usage. He spotted us and our cameras on the approach and announces that he has a camera over by him! I went over and we started to chat. About him photographing thing while he was in the service. While he was traveling around Central America. Panama. I don't need to apply butter, he is on a roll. He reveals what the natives in Central America taught him. Cashews, he says. Cashews are deadly if you eat them before they are roasted. The natives down there... they toss them. There are these lovely orange fruits, the pit is the cashew. The natives eat the fruit and pitch the pit.

This lead onto a tangent about hating Hershey's chocolate and trading giant freshwater shrimp for mangoes. D wanders over to listen in and suddenly Bob Two whips a little metal disc bolted to another out of a nearby box and tosses out the challenge.

What do you think this is?

I study these little metal discs with the tiny bolt and while I've seen it before I have no clue.

See your mom probably had a bowl like this.

(he picks a nearby flat bottom bowl up)

If she got a hole in the bottom of her bowl she would unscrew this nut put the one disc inside the bowl and the other on the bottom and screw the nut to keep them together and plug the hole.

Its called an amender.

Baffling. And my mother thinks he made this up.

Somehow we got on the topic of camping. Little ground was not covered. Naturally we talked about building fires. Soft coal. Always keep it on hand, so you can start a fire no problem. And never ever start a fire on stone. Because if you throw water on it to put it out the stone will explode. Unless you throw dirt on it to put it out, then you are ok.

With much patience and nodding at these discoveries, I decided I felt gutsy enough to ask him to take his photo. He was all too happy to oblige, as long as we brought him prints next time we came. We have to do that sometime...


bob © Laura Kicey

To prepare for work on an article I am writing for LAB (which is almost done Joseph, really)... we returned almost a full year later to Violet Hobaugh's house.


mown © Laura Kicey

This time we didn't venture onto her property... which made reshooting certain things impossible... but plodding around in the frigid rain I made some new discoveries, though the things that haunt her were made no more clear. Still a fascinating, terrifying mystery that lingers long after you walk away.


windfall © Laura Kicey

The remainder of the weekend took us northerly to the Family D. Where we celebrated cake and birthing and moved some things to D's sister's new house in Sunbury and then toyed with photofanices around the house, pretending our bodies were furniture in the empty rooms.


movers © Laura Kicey

Finally Mr. D was fortunate enough to have a sale of one of his pieces in the Joints show just in time as the show came down on Sunday. Thanks again to Mugshots for having us! Now we need to figure out what to do with all these pieces that haven't sold... I think I hear Etsy knocking. If you are a Philly local, be on the lookout for Lifestyle magazine in your mailbox. My interview with Girl Wonder Shannon Collins
is in the issue that came out yesterday! Find it online here Thanks again Shannon!

turning the other cheek

It seems too much to ask, in this particular snowy winter season, for me to just get a simple cold. Having but a week ago finished my antibiotics from mystery infection number one, last night I start getting a weird ache in my wisdom-tooferless jaw. This morning the cold splash of milk washing over the teeth accompanying the morning cereal sent Rocket O' Pain shooting through my brain... and even the three minute walk to work made me shudder as my cheeks chilled outside-in.


grin and bear it © Laura Kicey

Mr. Dentist gleefully announced that additional stress I may have been experiencing in the last week or so (better known as My Lump, among other things), may have caused me to grind the choppers and weaken something and cause the hyper-sensitivity. This particular culprit tooth, has a receding gum line and a little root exposure that has never much bothered me... so he resurfaced it, with the grim additional note: there is about a 20% chance that your nerve is dying and your tooth is 'going bad' (and all the cash you are forking over to resurface said tooth will be pointless when we give you a root canal next week). Oh the pleasure. Meanwhile Lump hasn't even decided whether or not to completely stop being a nuisance...

Meanwhile I am working on some other projects outside of work-work and will be releasing a new and improved design portfolio section on my website shortly. Also of note, next week is Mr. D's Big 28!! And the article/interview on moi will be coming out on LifeStyle Magazine on March 7th! Meanwhile I have barely shot anything aside from design projects (as you will see) and am getting restless and twitchy fingered.

Now I return to biting my numb tongue and fat lip....

seen and making a tussle

left behind © Laura Kicey

I know I've been quiet. And I know I've not been shooting. Its the holidays and I have precious little to do at work. But this just made my whole day. Back in June when I went to visit San Francisco, I toook a walk with infamous photoblogger Thomas Hawk. Our run-in with a security guard at 50 Beale just made it into Wired Magazine


chord © Laura Kicey

In other news I will be having an arts feature interview/article on the Photos d'Kicey this winter in Lifestyles. It is a regional magazine for the Philadelphia area. Its rather posh I've been told. I will be interviewed by fellow Kutztown Communication Design grad Shannon Collins, who has some pretty cool work of her own.


hanging tough © Laura Kicey

The Divine Lorraine showing at Yards Brewery was a raging success, the turnout was insanely strong and I got to see a bevvy of people I had not talked to in ages which was lovely. Dustin and I are complete dorks, witness! My friend Miss Plum even had a sale. Go Plum!

Currently I am hiding away in the attic waiting for my next opportunity to shoot during daylight hours, being cranky and nervous in the meantime over matters I am not at liberty to discuss. In lieu of shooting I've been working on some illustrations of cats for gifts...


luna cat © Laura Kicey

Holiday cheer for all! Go 2007!

on and off the wall

been © Laura Kicey

A few things I neglected to mention, loose ends needing tied up:

I've been submitting over at JPG like a madwoman and really not promoting it at all. Currently up for voting is theme 'Street'. Rather than plug mine, I'd like to say, just go and vote for stuff you like. I was published in the Shoot Your Self Issue, the first issue to be available in bookstores and the first issue where contributors received $100 for their entries that were used.

Last Friday, the show Small Works opened at the Muse Gallery and my photo, Lifespan ,is in the show until December 30th.

In the wake of the photographer free-for-all at the Divine Lorraine Hotel, the organizer, Jim Primdahl, has also put together a show of photographs from hotel. I am pretty sure I will be participating (I really hope so as I went out and bought frames last night). The opening is this coming Saturday Decemeber 9th, from 3-6pm, at Yards Brewery, 2439 Amber Street, Philadelphia. Still hoping to return to the hotel this week for more shooting. Looks grim.


skipping © Laura Kicey

And one last thing, my interview sounding a bit like a broken record over at Smith Magazine.

joints

It figures that the time when the most is actually happening, oodles of slippery tales of trespassing, transvestites, scalawags and amazing lighting equipment, all running freshly through my head... I have the least time to actually write about them.

I write today in the wake of Thanksgiving and my show coming unhung... and my more faithful readers are probably fading off into the distance. While things are fairly stable on the whole, photography as 'business' to me is in flux and lots of things are shaking loose, for better or worse. I felt a little twinge of the sadness as I whisked all my photos from the windows on Butler Avenue. There was some rigamarole the night before where the next artist was amongst the missing and I was told I'd be up for another two weeks, until after Thanksgiving. Then the early morning call came and I was racing around, sweating, cursing, and nearly catching on fire thanks to my now deceased hairdryer. I sold another piece last week, from the show, it was one of the two most expensive, so I officially broke even on all costs for the show. I maybe made like $20. Heh.

After we were done packing my car with my show, the one curator said he wanted to select some pieces to be printed so he could frame them and hang them in his frame shop. Apparently Ambler Theater is still running my ad. Last week, I visited a restaurant that wanted to show some of my work, so I now have 6 pieces hanging at the Funky Lil Kitchen. They serve delightfully inventive food, the menu is never the same twice. I can be quoted as having told the chef/owner "My mouth is excited." They will be up until the show Dustin and I are having together opens at Mugshots in February. This is the announcement piece we put 'together':


joints © Laura Kicey & Dustin Fenstermacher

We are curating the show like an exquisite corps in a way. I select a photo of mine, he follows it with a photo of his that has a common thread, it could be color, location, idea, compositional device, whatever, so long as it shares something with the photo prior and at the same time, leads us away from monotony. Since we are frequently shooting at the same places at the same times, often side by side literally, we decided to capitalize on how our visions are distinctive and harmonious.

Also available for your reading pleasure is 10 Things About Helveticaneue on Utata, a very recent interview with Brittney Bush. Smithmag has asked to show some of my self portraits along with an accompanying interview (which I think will have fairly redundant content, alas). I'll post up a link when it goes live.

This long (too short) Thanksgiving weekend was nothing short of astounding. While the turkey and stuffing was right on par, all other excursions proved mind-bending. Dustin is flexing his studio lighting muscles and I got to lend a hand as photo assistant. Post holiday engorgement, we set up at his grandmother's amazing house for a portrait session.


jingle © Laura Kicey

He managed to persuade her to sit for him in her pink-metallic-flamingo-print wallpapered bathroom. For our Black Friday pleasure, we set off for what has become our traditional Thanksgiving destination, nearby Centralia.


brew © Laura Kicey

Dustin brought me to an abandoned trailer he had previously explored, but I had yet to enter. Apparently it belonged to Pastor Edward Chapman and his wife Marguerite. We found a photo of him and a number of correspondences between he, his wife and friends of their's. They kept a huge amount of newspaper and magazines (in relation to the size of the tiny trailer), spanning years 1999-2001. The latest calendar on the wall showed November 2001.


wardrobe © Laura Kicey

The kitchen was filled with bloated canned foods and cleaning supplies. The floors of the entire trailer were carpeted with books, letters, postcards, clothes and papers. This was another strange contrast to other abandoned homes I'd been in. The other house in Centralia had been carefully emptied of all its contents. The Rementer House had been left basically in the state Mr. Rementer left it when he died. Here, they had left things of possible sentimental value, but in a whirlwind state. Residents of Centralia were offered large sums of money by the goverment to purchase their properties. Many relocated to the nearby town of Mount Carmel. This couple's abrupt-looking departure seems different and so much less methodical, which makes it all the more unsettling.

We continued on our way back home stopping at the epicenter for outdoors equipment shopping, Cabela's. It was staggering in size, content and clientele. Taxidermy everyhwere, fish to big game, waterfowl to trophy heads. Men casually shopping with their families, decked out in head-to-toe camouflage, children toting toy guns.


fishing line © Laura Kicey

We walked around with our jaws dragging on the floor. Later filling the hatch with wild boar and smoked ostrich sandwiches. It was kind of like going to an amusement park of natural history museum in this twisted backwards way.


migration © Laura Kicey

Saturday I dropped off a piece at the Muse Gallery that apparently will be in a Small Works show opening this Friday night, 60 N. 2nd Street (between Market and Arch Streets). I have never been in a non-juried show and I am still confused how I pay $20 and suddenly I am being shown in a gallery. Alas I cannot come to the opening. But will check it out in the coming weeks. If I don't check it out I won't believe it is there.

A trek to Jim Thorpe yesterday proved to be my closest-ever legal call in terms of trespassing. Big oops. We took one pass by the Lehigh Valley Railway warehouse on our way into Jim Thorpe, saw someone there and decided to catch it on the way back. Jim Thorpe was slightly more underwhelming that I recalled, having camped there three years ago, B.C. (before camera). After a brisk walk through the town and its shops, a spot of lunch Mr. D and I decided we were up for some trespassing, instead of this nambypamby hippie open-door crap.

So we returned to the warehouse to find twice as many cars outside. We decided we would just go for it anyway. Crossing the railroad that was marked Private Rail, No Tresspassing. We pulled up next to this guy who was erecting up this enormous old camera complete with glass plate (at least 8x10) large bellows and a drape that he eventually pulled over his head while focusing. We said our hellos and I went into the nearest building. Moments later another truck pulls up.



where the twain meet © Laura Kicey

The guy who gets out calls us out of the building. From the patch on his shoulder he is a park ranger. He informs us we are trespassing, the buildings are dangerous, we can run but he won't chase us. We all just stand there and say nothing. He starts rambling on about the history of the buildings, how they used to repair train cars there, liability, squatters and graffiti, and how they are scheduled to be torn down, replaced with businesses or somesuch, and then the guy with the giant bellows camera asks if maybe we could stay and just shoot outside (since we are all obviously harmless camera nerds).


over the years © Laura Kicey

Mr. Ranger says he'll check with his boss and disappears into his truck. We stand in silence until he returns. He said his boss doesn't mind if we stay, we must be careful as they are old unstable buildings, etc, liabilty issues. But he is going to have to write us all tickets for trespassing.

Hahaha! Just Kidding! he says.

Still, we continue to say nothing and stare. He told us he wouldn't bother us anymore, but if a state trooper came around we would be in trouble for sure... as he leaves, we thank him profusely and we all immediately disperse into and around the warehouse and outbuildings. Being distinctly uncareful. Those buildings were solid, especially if they were meant to hold railcars... nary a brick had fallen from the vaulted ceilings.

..............................


As I am ridiculously backlogged on what I've been up to, I may have to come back and write up my visit to the Kulpsville Flea & Antiques Market and the Norristown Farm Park and State Mental Hospital. Or maybe I'll lazily post up a photo or 8 and just say it was cold and dismal and we didn't trespass but I may have been exposed to PCBs but I'll likely not die for a bit. And the flea market was in an old school that had an inexplicably still-filled swimming pool and lots of school furniture mingling with the items for sale. In the classrooms and offices.

Tomorrow I will be returning for an early morning shoot to Rementer House, with my boss. Wasn't the idea to skip out of work to go shoot, not pull me out of bed hours earlier than usual so I can't function at work at all? Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz......


the sitting room © Laura Kicey