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A blog by Bill Hess

Running Dog Publications

P.O. Box 872383 Wasilla, Alaska 99687

 

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Wasilla

Wasilla is the place where I have lived for the past 29 years - sort of. The house in which my wife and I raised our family sits here, but I have made my rather odd career as a different sort of photojournalist by continually wandering off to other places to photograph people and gather information, which I have then put together in various publications that have served the Alaska Native Eskimo, Indian and Aleut communities.

Although I did not have a great of free time to devote to this rather strange community, named after a Tanaina Athabascan Indian chief who knew Wasilla in the way that I so impossibly long to, I have still documented it regularly over the past quarter-century plus. In the early days, my Wasilla photographs focused mostly upon my children and the events they participated in - baseball, football, figure skating, hockey, frog catching, fire cracker detonation, Fourth of July parade - that sort of thing. 

In 2002, I purchased my first digital camera and then, whenever I was home, I began to photograph Wasilla upon a daily basis, but not in a conventional way. These were grab shots - whatever caught my eye as I took my many long walks or drove through the town, shooting through the car window at people and scenes that appeared and disappeared before I could even focus and compose in the traditional photographic way.

Thus, the Wasilla portion of this blog will be devoted both to the images that I take as I wander about and those that I have taken in the past. Despite the odd, random, nature of the images, I believe they communicate something powerful about this town that I have never seen expressed anywhere else. 

Wasilla is a sprawling community that has been slapped down hodge-podge upon what was so recently wilderness of the most exquisite beauty. In its design, it is deliberately anti-zoned, anti-planned. In the building of Wasilla, the desire to make a buck has trumped aesthetics and all other considerations. This town, built in the midst of exquisite beauty, has largely become an unsightly, unattractive, mess of urban sprawl. Largely because of this, it often seems to me that Wasilla is a community with no sense of community, a town devoid of town soul.

Yet - Wasilla is my home and if I am lucky it will be until I grow old and die. Despite its horrific failings, it is still made of the stuff of any small city: people; moms and dads, grammas and grampas, teens, children, churches, bars, professionals, laborers, soldiers, missionaries, artists, athletes, geniuses, do-gooders, hoodlums, the wealthy, the homeless, the rational and logical, the slightly insane and the wholly insane - and, yes, as is now obvious to the whole world, politicians, too.

So perhaps, if one were to search hard enough, it might just be possible to find a sense of community here, and a town soul. So, using my skills as a photojournalist and a writer, I hope to do just that. If this place has a sense of community, I will find it. If there is a town soul to Wasilla, I will document it. I won't compete with the newspapers. Hell no! But as time and income allow, it will be fun to wander into the places where the folks described above gather, and then put what I find on this blog.

 

by 300...

Anywhere within a 300 mile radius of Wasilla. This encompasses perhaps the most wild, dramatic, gorgeous, beautiful section of land and sea to be found in any comparable space anywhere on Earth. I can never explore it all, but I will do the best that I can, and will here share what I find and experience with you.  

and then some...

Anywhere else in the world that I happen to get to, such as Point Lay, Alaska; Missoula, Montana; Serenki, Chukotka, Russia; or Bangalore, India. Perhaps even Lagos, Nigeria. I have both a desire and scheme to get me there. It is a long shot. We shall see if I succeed.

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Sunday
May312009

The wedding - setting the stage, part 2: the chefs

DateSunday, May 31, 2009 at 7:36PM

You are looking at a master chef. Absolutely. I cannot remember what this pancake-like bread was called, but I would soon eat some for my breakfast, not with syrup, but dipped in various sauces, all flavored by Indian spices.

Oh, my! So delicious! We would be fed two meals at the wedding, breakfast and dinner. Try to find such superb Indian cuisine anywhere among all the fine restaurants in New York City, San Francisco, Washington, D.C. ... I'm not saying it can't be done, maybe it can, but I have yet to sample it.

Were these guys to bring their magic to the right place in the US, what a success they could become!

How grand it would be if that place could be Wasilla!

Do you get the idea that I liked their cooking?

Preparing the food, # 1.

Preparing the food, # 2.

A culinary artisan.

Culinary artisans at work.

Cabbage in the process of being transformed.

Master strolls through his domain.

The cutting and chopping crew.

Head man of the cutting and chopping crew.

Three artisans with coconuts.

Breakfast still life.

Come breakfast time, the cutters become servers. Before you, you see my dish, but it is not a dish, it is a banana leaf. There is more food coming - much more. Being a mannerdly person, I will eat my breakfast with my bare right hand and so it will become very difficult to take any more pictures until I finish and wash my hands.

And the coffee! I miss it already.

Now, please note the quality of light that seeps through the windows, the softness yet contrast as light plays against shadow. I was thrilled to find such light and to be able to work with it. It was exactly what I wanted to have throughout the entire wedding, and I looked forward to having a good time with that light as it played off Soundarya and Anil and all that happened around them.

But, as it would turn out, I would have little opportunity beyond what you see here to make use of this light. With a few small exceptions, this would be it. 

In my next "setting the stage" post, you will find out why.

AuthorWasilla, Alaska, by 300 | Comment1 Comment |
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Reader Comments (1)

The pancake-like bread are called "Dosa" . Wonderful pics.

June 3, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterkavitha

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