Nice Surprises

Almost every time I hit the road on assignment, I find something that calls out to me "Photograph me." It can be something that has nothing to do with the assignment and very often it has to do with a life lesson.

On one very recent trip to South Carolina to photograph farmers, I was taken by the number of businesses closed and abandoned. With growth to blame, a large number of hotels, gas stations, and restaurants have been forgotten. Among the many I passed, I had an opportunity to stop and photograph just one. Looking back on the trip I wonder what it might have been like to live in the 60's. Traveling the back roads at a gentle pace, stopping occasionally to refuel or to grab a bite must have been very exciting.

In today's world we seem to want things quicker. We want more for less and we want it now. As parents my wife and I have discussed many times how we might make our children's lives more meaningful. One thing we agree on and that we sometimes have control over, is pace. So, let's all make a deliberate choice and sometimes take the slow road. I feel certain, we as a human race will find more gratification and more peace on the slower road.

It's probably too late for an entire generation of these old businesses and the buildings they occupied but it's not too late for us. So, get off the Interstate and take a path that, given the chance, I'm sure you'll love.

Skyline: Charlotte, NC

I remember the very first skyline I shot about 25 years ago. It was a summer night, hot but clear. I was a student in Atlanta, GA at The Art Institute and I was looking for the ultimate spot to catch the city known as The Big Peach. Hotlanta.

After a couple of hours of driving around, I finally found THE spot. A bridge just out of downtown with the interstate running beneath. It seemed like a perfect place. On the night in question there were about 20 other photographers standing by tripods. The bridge was famous for catching the right shot.

I jockeyed for position. Set my tripod in place and put my new 35mm FM2 on top of it. That night I must have shot 4 rolls of film (Remember film). It was gorgeous and somewhat reminiscent of a recent attempt here in Charlotte.

Same sort of night - hot, but thankfully clear. My position: a bridge just out of the city with an interstate running beneath. Among a few of the obvious differences, such as I'm 25 years older, on this night I was alone on THE bridge. Oh, and I shot not with my trusty FM2, but with a Hasselblad outfitted with a 40 megapixel back tethered to a laptop.

Though many things have changed, one thing remains the same, a gorgeous shot of a skyline can always excite.

Caring for My Soul

The days - if we let them - will get away from us. Before we know it, we will have given them to things that really don't matter much. We'll give them to worry, to stress, to pain, to boredom, or to waiting. Freely, we just give our time away.

Beside my desk, or bed, or favorite chair, or even in the car, I try to keep something close to me that helps me remember the importance of time. These things can be photos, notes that I've written, or a book.

One of my favorite books, given to me long ago by a friend, is a book of hours. It's a simple set of pages separated into days of the week and then into specific hours of each day. I've had the book 10 years now and haven't started or finished it. My practice is to pick up the book when I think about it and turn to the page that represents the day and time best. Today, I picked up the book and turned to Monday, Noon. There I found a piece written by John Burroughs.
An excerpt that means a lot to me:

Nature-love as Emerson knew it, and as Wordsworth knew it, and as any of the choicer spirits of our time have known it, has distinctly a religious value. It does not come to a man or a woman who is wholly absorbed in selfish or worldly or material ends. Except ye become in a measure as little children, ye cannot enter the kingdom of Nature - as Audubon entered it, as Thoreau entered it, as Bryant and Amiel entered it, and as all those enter it who make it a resource in their lives and an instrument of their culture.

John Burroughs, American (1837-1921)

Open House

It has been one hell of a month. Not only has it been business as usual with work and family, but I've had to add to my list preparing the house for an open house and showing.

I've moved thousands of pounds of river rock and mulch, planted a number of trees and bushes, painted in and out, stained concrete, pressure washed, etc. You get the idea. It's been grueling.

BUT, it has really paid off. The open house went incredibly well. The biggest comment: "How on Earth could you and your family ever move out of such a spectacular home?"

The truth is, it's home and we love it, but we have projects to do, places to go, things to see. So change is necessary.

The most rewarding part of the open house evening for me and my wife was welcoming into our home many lovers of mid-century modern architecture. Among them was Alan Ingram, the original architect of our home. What an incredible pleasure it was to see his reactions to all of the updates, especially the 1500 square foot addition designed by Bruce Berberick. Bruce and Alan got along famously. Alan loved Bruce's addition to "his" creation.

Below is an email from Alan I received after the showing. Thanks Alan and thanks Bruce. AND thanks Shonn for being our Realtor.

The soiree held last night by Mr. and Mrs. Mike Carroll, owners of ‘the Mann House' in Charlotte was an outstanding success. Some 50-60 guests attended and toured the house, a mid-century modern tri-level.

The house was designed by Alan Ingram, and has a beautiful studio for Mike Carroll’s very professional photography practice, designed by architect Bruce Berberick. Striking as the house is, it serves as a display platform for the beautiful furnishings selected by the owners.

This is one you really should visit. I was knocked over by the sensitive design of the interiors and careful placement of objets d’art.

Regards,
Alan Ingram

What inspires you?

This nation has been suffering some fairly bad times for a couple years now. Not only in the financial markets, but also environmentally. We've seen earthquakes, floods, and now an ocean bleeding hundreds of thousands of gallons of oil a day.

When will it stop? When will we just be able to take a breath? For goodness sake, my 3 year old wants to know if she'll be able to swim in the ocean this summer. She wants to know why the oil is in the Gulf.

It breaks my heart to listen to the reports each day. It's one of the reasons my wife and I long ago rid our house of cable and TV. We get all the news we need from reports via the internet or the newspapers. Even that is overload at times.

Back to my title for this entry - with all of this bad news, how do we keep going? Why do we keep going? For me there are so many reasons that I keep hope close to me. These are the same reasons I get up each day and have a cup of coffee and try my best to do my bit to make this life meaningful. It's not a simple time but my reasons are simple:

House 4 Sale

For the last month, I've spent every spare second getting my family's house ready to put on the market. I've got one thing to say, much respect for Realtors.

I've been a painter, a builder, a lawn mowing nut, a garage organizing wild man. You get the idea. If I have learned anything it's this: live in your house the way you want it from the very first day.

With this said, my wife and I, along with our daughters, live in one of the coolest houses I've ever seen. We're thankful we've had the experience and time to get to know mid-century architecture and the lifestyle that goes along with it. When we bought the house 4 years ago, all of our family and friends said the same thing, "This house is so you." I guess it is. We've had a blast here.

But, it's time to move on and we're so excited that somebody - the right buyer - will decide to take over where we're leaving off. We've created a vibe here that permeates through you and brings on relaxation and the desire to drink a martini, or mojito, or a great big robust red wine, or for me, a hop-injected beer.

Part of readying the house for the market has included photographing the structure and the rooms inside. I have a new respect for architecture shooters. It's something I do once in a while, but for the folks that do it day in and day out, you rock.

Check out some of my selects. And if you're a mid-century lover, come buy my house.

A Day in the Foothills

My love for mountain biking was rejuvenated just recently while on assignment for Mountain Bike Magazine. I can remember a time that mountain biking and trail riding were pretty much the center of my life. Lunch breaks were spent on local single tracks dialing in technique. Vacations were scheduled around weekend long trail rides. And if I spent a dime it was for a new jersey or bike part.

I'm not sure why my passion for such a killer sport eventually waned. Perhaps work got in the way, maybe the transition to having a young family gave me less time for play, or maybe, like anything, I just needed a break.

Well, my break is over. It's time for my next epic ride. I can't wait to sling a little mud. See you on the trail. Until then, please enjoy a few shots from the assignment.