Here are a few recent photographs of Toots and Magoo's lovely product. I focused on utilizing natural light to accentuate the bold colors of the objects and make the photographs sing.
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It is always fun to shoot products that I personally find exciting and beautiful, and shooting for Toots and Magoo has been no exception. Not only do I love their bags, jewelry, paper products and antiques, they are also fair trade and sell work fromrom international artists and designers.
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A delicious Crepe cart has quickly gotten my attention and taste buds excited in Carrboro. A few Saturdays back while I was driving around looking for yard sales I continued seeing white signs with thick pink lettering reading "Crepes Today." I followed the signs to Johnny's on West Main Street and I was not disappointed.
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When I wake up in the Smoky Mountains birds are always chirping in a chorus that fills the foggy morning air. It doesn't matter if I'm camping or staying with my good friend Rebecca, long weekends in the mountains have became my respite and place to get creatively recharged.
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For the past 3 years I have been working on a series of landscapes centered on the industrial train yards of the U.S. For over 50 years the men of my family have worked on trains. Growing up I lived on a cul-de-sac with train tracks at the end. Every night I lay in bed listening to the rhythm of the train engine and shrill whistle while trying to fall asleep. It has become part of my thoughts and memories of home and family.
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My old shoes barely made it through the weekend when I visited Washington D.C. for the first time a few weeks ago. I am not an amateur when it comes to walking in the city. I understand the subtle nuances of packing versatile fashionable shoes with good arch support and plenty of breathing room, but this time my flimsy Polo kicks didn't make the mark. I had shin splints within the first 4 hours, and swollen feet by the end of the long weekend.
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I'll admit, I went to the Raleigh Flea Market with high expectations secretly hoping to relive my experiences of the markets in India. I wanted the color of fabrics hanging from tents, the textures of old books and pottery, and the smell of fresh Naan baking in an oven.
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Lately, the light in North Carolina has been even, filtered by the clouds. On most rainy days the light has a blue wash over the green of the trees, the blooming branches and cement roads. It reminds me of the light in New England that often made the color in my photos more saturated and punchy.
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My personal collection of cameras, old and new.
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The first 15 years of my life have been documented with a Polaroid Camera. My Grandpa loved having his camera within reach, ready to capture his grandchildren blowing out the candles of their Birthday cake, opening Christmas gifts, or being silly at family picnics. If I were lucky, my Grandpa would let me take a few pictures. Mesmerized, I watched the image I photographed come to life, deepen in contrast, and pop.
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I will confess to you a secret, painting and drawing are my first loves, and photography is my second. There is something about the experience of using my hands to create line and mix color that is engaging. >>
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This Christmas while I was home visiting Kansas City, I found several amazing Nativity scenes. I have always enjoyed Nativity scenes, but the ones I photographed seemed to stand out to me in a different way.>>
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Every Christmas I enjoy hand-making gifts for my family and friends for many different reasons. First of all, I try to use recycled materials whenever possible. Secondly, it’s cost affective and after going to art school I still feel it is my duty to try to use every skill (even if it is random and unpractical) that I have learned. Thirdly, it helps me to avoid the commercialism that often accompanies the season.
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When I returned from India in 2001, I moved into a gorgeous hundred-year old home with The Colonel, a sweet old man who loved and supported the arts. I rented a fully furnished room, as well as one of my friends, and lived in a museum like home for $50 a month.
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I never know how the city will have changed when I go home, just like my friends and family. Every time I go home to visit, I look forward to walking around the city and visiting old streets and buildings that I have come to know well.
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You never know what you are going to find. That’s what makes it so awesome. Pawing through racks of acrylic sweaters with snowy Christmas landscapes, embarrassing cat shirts or tiny graphic patterns and funky buttons. You never know, and for me, the obscure finds are so good, it keeps me coming back hoping for more.
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After moving across the country five years ago, I’ve found myself turning to ice cream to feel closer to home. I grew up eating ice cream almost every day. To my family, our relationship with the cold sugary cream was more than a favorite American past time- it was passion. At any given time you could find Rocky Road, Spumoni and Fat Free Tin Roof Sundae in my Grandparents freezer. At home, my Father favored the Pralines and Cream, and my Mom loved any combination of chocolate and nuts.
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