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A Long Walk With My Camera

A collection of photography related and unrelated stories, memories, and lost dreams.

Snapshot

9/19/2018

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Photographer Unknown (see shadow}
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This is a snapshot of my father and stepmother that I found one day while going through the many objects that overfill the physical spaces of my life. Unfortunately everywhere I look there is usually clutter. Among the more meaningful items I save and encounter are photographs and snapshots. Wikipedia refers to a snapshot as "an amateur photograph taken without preparation." I'm not certain about the accuracy of that definition, as one can develop a philosophical discussion around it. Another concept I found is "an informal photograph, usually made with a small hand-held camera." As indicated on the back of the photo {see image above} it was taken in 1954. My guess is that it was taken with a Kodak Brownie.
My biological parents were divorced when I was very young (around the age of three). For many years I had no contact with my father who apparently made numerous attempts to re-establish communication and dialogue. My father, George, was born in Greece on an island called Chios not far from Turkey. My stepmother, Paonne was French and spoke several languages fluently including French, English, Greek, Italian, and Spanish.
I always enjoyed looking at photographs and snapshots and have this concern/idea that in the not so distant future many of the images we create on an ongoing basis will be lost. Obviously millions of photos are created on a daily basis and are stored in memory cards, on computers, online, in "clouds,"  portable hard drives, and flash drives. I suppose one day while clearing away clutter one might encounter an old flash drive or memory card but the days of finding old snapshots in files and old suitcases will one day be gone.
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A Grandmother's Patience

9/14/2018

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Photograph by Stavros Perdikakis
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My earlier years of life were an ongoing adventure, laughter, excitement, conflict and sorrow. Had it not been for my grandmother, Maria, I would have become a far worse lost soul than I currently am. Having lost her first son at Iwo Jima during WW II, I became the focus of much of her attention. This photo was taken by my Uncle Stavros, her youngest son, who will be mentioned numerous times throughout this story. It was Maria who gave me so many amazing things including my first camera. For many years we were inseparable, I learned many things from her including my personal belief in giving to others which probably led to my eventual interest in Buddhism.
This photograph was created on the front steps of the five floor walk-up where she lived. My cousin, Louise was often in the picture. Her father, Stavros, was a kind and talented man who became an older brother of sorts. A father of five children, he worked throughout the night. danced, bowled, and was always full of good humor. He was a film-lab technician and enjoyed making 16 mm. films of his family outings. Through my contact with him I learned about film-making and became inspired to learn about photography.
I often would pick up my 8mm. wind up camera and attempt to create a masterpiece. The filming was terrific fun but at the time I was unable to afford the cost of lab processing. Nevertheless for the next few years I indulged in "home movies" and was able to interact with a motley crew of friends.
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The Great "U-Turn."

9/13/2018

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Photograph by Martin Rabeno
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For many years I was fortunate to have shared the friendship of another talented individual, Martin Rabeno. I attended a high school with a specialization in the arts, mostly due to his influence and support. I was always a "lost soul" of sorts, certainly this was the case during my high school tenure. I seemed to have frequently suffered a bit from the "Rodney Dangerfield Disorder", arriving in the right place but usually on the wrong day. I can still recall much uncertainty and confusion while attending high school. At least two important teachers I encountered helped me get through, together with my love for photography and a suddenly inspired interest in English and writing.
I started working on the yearbook as a photographer and spent much of my time shooting the architecture of the building and the gargoyles that surrounded it. Perhaps it was not accidental that I was required to read and became fascinated by Victor Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre-Dame.I perceived myself to have much in common with Quasimodo.
Constantly seen with a camera in hand, I searched everywhere for clues to the meaning of life. The above photograph is a one-of-a-kind image taken by Martin in his home. It was likely created in the the early 1960's. I can still vividly remember hearing about John F. Kennedy's assassination as we walked toward his house. People were shouting through the streets in disbelief and running home to watch the news.
By the time I graduated from high school I wanted to study and learn more about photography. Instead of attending "college" like most people my age, I decided to attend a vocational school in Manhattan for a while. It was actually quite inspiring, the format replicated the experiences of an internship with a group of professionals. Unfortunately it was not an "accredited" school and concerns about the draft became paramount. I started searching for schools (no available internet back then) and located a possibility on the West Coast. A recently acquired used car, a few hundred dollars worth of clothing, and a little "pocket change" and I was off for California. I remember the long drive as I heading out West, I was full of excitement, uncertainty, and an unfortunate lack of confidence that would haunt me for most of my life. On the second night after having driven a multitude of miles, I reversed charges and called home. Not certain what to expect, my call was answered by several family members simultaneously. Each pleading with me in a "Greek Chorus" to return home and attend college nearby. Suffering from a deficiency in confidence and an undeveloped autonomy, I decided to return home. This was the major "U-Turn" of my life, I combined two days of driving into one and returned from Chicago to the East Coast in one day non-stop.
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A favorite photo taken by a great friend.

9/4/2018

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Photograph by Robert Godfried
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I have always had a passion for music. I was constantly attempting to learn to play almost every instrument that came across my path. Sadly, I never succeeded although my heart was always in the right place. Among the instruments I enjoyed most, was this "Bouzouki" that was loaned to me by a friend. For several months I struggled to play one or two "tunes." The best I ever managed was an improvisation with a group of real musicians who surrounded me late one night at someone's house. Eventually I was forced to return the instrument to its rightful owner but I always longed to replace it. The photo was taken by my friend Bob who was kind enough to let me dwell in spare room for about a year or two. A fascinating and highly intelligent friend who is full of talent and knowledge. I learned a great deal from him at the time. The photograph was likely taken with my 35 mm Minolta SR 7. I enjoyed "sepia" toning at the time and probably poisoned myself more than once in whatever darkroom I was able to build or borrow. 
A great memory of my experiences at this location was regarding one weekend in particular when my friend, Bob was away. I fell asleep sometime around midnight only to be woken up by a loud crackly voice about an hour later. The voice stopped as I looked around the room but could not locate the source. This continued throughout the night, I would hear a voice, awaken, look around, and eventually fall asleep. All night long I  checked the apartment, checked the windows, and questioned my own sanity. The next morning as I was preparing to go out for the day, I heard the voice once again! "The time is now 9:00 A.M...The time is now 9:00 A.M." I traced the source of the voice to a disc playing alarm device set at full volume to announce the time every hour on the hour. I waited a few weeks until I too would be away for the weekend and initiated my revenge! I was told it worked!
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    Author

    My first cameras were an 8mm Keystone and a great big box containing  a tiny Kodak Brownie "Holiday Flash" and all the equipment necessary for lighting and film development. I recall jumping for joy when I viewed my first self-processed image including fingerprints, dust marks, and faded grey edges! The joy of my chemical darkroom work had begun!
    Many years later I borrowed a 1 megapixel Sony floppy disk camera and gradually learned about digital photography and the many possibilities it offers.
    Here within this site I will attempt to share what I have created and what I can still remember about both methods along with many related and even unrelated stories.
     

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