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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Monday
Sep142009

Cocoon mode* - day 6: I conduct a scientific experiment involving the rain, my bike, a pickup truck and a cow moose

Come noon each day that I was in India, I was quite taken by the fact that my shadow was directly beneath me. This, of course, was because the equatorial sun hung pretty-much directly overhead. Here in Alaska, even at noon in June, the sun always angles its way in, so one's shadow always falls away from him. It never appears directly beneath him.

Or so I have always believed.

Then, this morning, I was riding my bike through the rain when I looked down and saw what appeared to be my shadow, directly beneath me. I reasoned that this was because the rain-filled clouds had dispersed the sun's rays, causing them to come down upon me from all angles, as if from a big, dome-shaped lightbox, but that fewer of those dispersed rays actually struck the ground directly beneath me - hence, the shadow.

But then I got to wondering if it was a shadow that I was seeing beneath me at all. Perhaps it was just the reflection of myself and the bicycle, caused by the thin layer of water upon the pavement and it only looked like a shadow because too much of the light was being absorbed by the pavement to reflect the colors back.

I noticed that when cars and trucks drove past, I could see their reflections on the wet pavement, traveling directly beneath them.

So I was very confused. I decided that I would take a picture of a truck passing by and then study the reflection beneath it and see what I could learn.

So here is the picture. I have studied it and I have learned nothing.

Later, I took my coffee break in my car. By now, the rain had ceased. Just before I reached home, I saw this cow moose standing in someone's driveway. I decided to continue the experiment and so photographed her posing with her shadow.

I figured that once I got home and could sit down and take a good look at this picture, all my questions would be answered.

As you can see, very strange things are happening with the shadow of this moose.

I end the day in an even greater state of confusion than I began it.

*Cocoon mode: Until I finish up a big project that I am working on, I am keeping this blog at bare-minimum simple. I anticipate about one month.

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Reader Comments (4)

Shadows aside, that sure looks like a robust healthy specimen of feminine ungulate... :)

September 14, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterKarenJ

"I end the day in an even greater state of confusion than I began it.

From the sounds of it, this is unusual for your days. It happens fairly regularly to me...

*sigh*

September 16, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

Oh, and I thought of something else. Maybe you want to be careful there trying to photograph your feet, legs and shadow at the same time that you're riding your bike in the rain. Remember. You cannot swipe Marjorie's crutches for another couple of months.

Or maybe you're just more coordinated than I am.

September 16, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

Karen - Yes, she looked very healthy and strong. She had two yearling calves with her but they headed out into the trees before I could get close enough to snap.

Debby - Truth be told, if I am awake, I am confused. If I am asleep, I stumble through dreams of chaos, each turn opening up into something different, so confusion is something that we share.

and

Debby - Thank you for your concern. Believe me, having spent the greater part of 2008 in various stages of incapacitation from having taken a fall and now having to live everyday with an artificial shoulder that will never be what my real one was, I am very mindful of the possibilites when I bike along and so tend to be careful.

During my time of recovery, I did become proficient at manning a camera with only one hand, so that the fact that I got hurt then somehow makes it more unlikely that I will now, but, you just never know, one second to the next.

September 18, 2009 | Registered CommenterWasilla, Alaska, by 300

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