Thursday, May 14, 2020

My Failures



Let me document my failures here.  Of course, that is nothing new.  Document?  Let me whine and cry and shit my pants over them.  That sounds more like it.  That is what I do.

In the most charming of ways, of course.  If you don't believe it, ask me.

I took out my big old Liberator camera on a tripod yesterday, got in the car, and drove somewhere to make pictures with the glass plates.  I loaded up several holders.  I had meters.  I was set.

Traffic was crazy.  I parked on a busy street that was originally a highway but now is something else. Traffic was so bad, I could barely get out of the car.  I went to the sidewalk side and took out my gear.  I walked down the street and set everything up.  It was laborious but I was having fun.  Cars honked and people yelled at me as they drove by.  I had chosen a very famous dive bar to photograph.  It is famous for the hardest drinks in the land.  I sat there one afternoon having a drink while I waited on someone.  I ordered a Cuba Libre.  The bar maid poured a water glass full of rum and spritzed some coke on top.  Fuck me, I thought, that is no afternoon drink.  A woman came in, sat down, and ordered a double.  Everyone in the bar began to laugh.  It was a bar and a package store.  On a Friday or Saturday night, people were sitting on boxes of liquor because the tiny bar was full.  It closed its doors in the last year, but someone has bought it and is re-opening it with the same name.  Corona, however, has stalled all that.

I was going to make two plates of it, one with iso 25 and one with the impossibly slow iso 2.  I metered with my spot meter and with the app on my phone, took my time, and made the two exposures.  I was pleased with myself.  Then I picked up my gear, walked a ways down the street, and set up to take a photo of a tattoo parlor that looked great.  I repeated the processes.  The whole thing took perhaps fifteen minutes.  Then I loaded up the car and drove home.

It was my usual time for going to my mother's.  I was anxious to develop the plates to see what I had gotten, but I am also a dutiful and loving son, so I put everything aside until I got home.

I developed the iso 2 plates first, as I could only do two at a time.  It took about twenty minutes of pouring developer, agitating every minute, rinsing, repeat with fixer. . . and then. . . two black plates.  Nothing.  No image.  Just black.

Fuck me.

So I did the same with the iso 25 plates.  One black and one with the image you see above.  What went wrong?  I am thinking that the only one that came out was the one I shot with my new plate holder.  But maybe I did something wrong in shooting.  Perhaps I left the shutter open.  I don't know.

When I scanned the good plate, it did not look good.  The building was not in focus.  The trees are and the sky is, but not the building.  How could I have missed focus so badly at such a distance?  That doesn't make sense to me.

So guess what?  I'm going to try again today.  I'm going to see if I can't figure this thing out.  Hours.  It will take hours.  And maybe, if I get lucky, I'll have an image.  WTF?

My Stephen Shore book came.  I haven't looked through the whole thing yet, but by and large I am finding it disappointing.  But it is also inspirational.  It gives me ideas.  I'm arrogant enough to think I can do better.

That is. . . if I can ever get a picture to turn out.

4 comments:



  1. well. my cabinet project turned out outstanding. it was not looking good - i started with the cabinet in the corner that spins around - dumb design. and then i decided that i needed to move the light tupperware stuff out of there - where tho? oh - there is a closet in the hall right there near the kitchen that is just a catch all. mess. i emptied everything - it appeared that bed bath beyond and my antique business vomited all over the counters, kitchen table, floor. Hannah came in and was like ..."yeah good luck with this."

    It took me all day (in between music choices, a 1/2 hour sunning session - throwing ball for the dog - prepping dinner etc. but it is done.

    "Looks like some type of magazine designer thing, mom."

    So far today - I've been to the blood clinic with my Ma. Surprised Hannah when she came home from work this morning with strawberry cinnamon french toast with whipped cream and a morning beverage. and a sign that says "I love my Healthcare Worker".

    I have refilled the jelly for the orioles. And walked the Big Bog with the two dogs.

    I'm going to take my first outdoor shower today - I can't wait. Then what? Who knows. Some baking I suppose but maybe a field trip - the sun is shining and the G.B. needs items from the packie.

    That place sounds wonderful. Great for a rainy day explore of people. I hope it opens successfully when safe to do so.










    The only real failure is trying to second-guess the taste of an audience. Nothing comes out of that except a kind of inward humiliation.

    David Bowie.

    Keep failing Kid. :).

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  2. I love the photo. You are not an artist unless you fail. I’ve made more money on my failures than my successes. Who the fuck pays for mediocrity? Nah, people pay for grotesque public displays of self-embarrassment and degradation.

    The big W.

    You are right about the drinks. It is not the sort of joint you walk into and order a Brady Alexander or a Crème de Cacao frappe.

    It was within walking distance from a now shuttered factory I worked the late-night shift at the corner of O & P, although we mostly drove there in case the need for a quick escape arose – which happened frequently as you would know.

    Rough place especially after midnight.

    After one especially evil night of debauchery and self-loathing, a co-worker tried to race his Corvette rag-top up a telephone pole. He would have made it, too, I reckon. The moon stopped him, I suppose, although witnesses are divided on that. Could have been a flock of curlews. There were feathers in the grill.

    I like the large format camera. I had another deadline recently and used my old 1920s cast iron Royal with the beveled glass sides for luck. Getting ribbons is a bitch, I’ll tell you.

    Catch you on the flip side.

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    Replies
    1. But on weekend midnight's there were often coeds from Country Club College slumming there. I've seen it with my own two eyes :)

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