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.
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.
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.
Monday, July 27, 2009 at 12:02AM She re-injured her knee and is suffering significant pain and discomfort. It looks like she will be bedridden for the next six weeks or so.
This happened in the early afternoon and her care has occupied 99 percent of my time since, but I have to take a short break now to feed the fish, clean the kitty litter and make this short, picture-less post.
This is it for now.
Reader Comments (8)
I'm sorry to hear this. Knee injuries are sometimes difficult. I hope she is able to get good medical care, if necessary.
Hoping your wife feels better soon! So sorry to hear about her troubles. Take care both of you.
Sorry about your wife's fall. I fell in the file room of our office - couldn't stop myself going down. Weight landed on one finger, and top of my right foot. They still hurt. All I did was misstep in some flip-flop sandals I was wearing. It doesn't take much. Take care of her.
Hope she feels better and take good care of her. Enjoy your time at home.
Such a bad tune tio re-injure her knee while it's still summer. Take good care of her now. Glad you're home now.
Maak & Larry
Best wishes for your wife. I hope that she will know that many wish her well.
Said a prayer for margie and your family...richard's mom too; she's having sciatica pains too-and awaiting mri results for a treatment plan. Being back home is always comforting.
Thanks, everybody - You are right, it is good that I am home now. Arlene, I am sorry to hear about Alice. She is one of my most admired and favorite people. I hope she improves soon.