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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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Tuesday
Aug312010

Three images from coffee drive: hot dog in puddle; dropping seeds; a small spot of rain

DateTuesday, August 31, 2010 at 12:29PM

I have no time to blog today, so I'm going to keep it very simple. After I made my 4:00 o'clock run to Metro, I drove home the long way and saw this dog standing in this puddle.

The dog must have been hot - a hot dog who wanted to cool off.

And I drove by this man who appeared to be dropping seeds in a cleared lot. I don't know what kind of seeds. Radishes, perhaps.

Up ahead, I spotted a place where the rain had hit the ground in a small, well defined spot and had left a border on the road. When I drove into the rain spot, it was still sprinkling there - very lightly. Out of curiousity, I turned left down a side road, drove for about two or three hundred yards and came upon a rain border as distinct as this one. I then drove back onto the road you see here, continued on, and drove across the far side border a few hundred yards beyond the top of this little hill.

Now, as for me, I am in a bit of predicament. I feel an urgent need to catch the plane north tomorrow morning, but the resource that will enable me to purchase the ticket has not yet come in and I don't think it is going to in time for me to do that. Plus, I really need to get some new Arctic gear before I leave on this trip. Until I get those resources, I am stuck. I think I will be okay even if I leave as late as Thursday, likely even Friday, but I am growing nervous and would like to get going.

 

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AuthorWasilla, Alaska, by 300 | Comment4 Comments |
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Reader Comments (4)

Hope everything works out Bill...keep my fingers crossed for you

August 31, 2010 | Unregistered Commentertwain12

The dog is bravely waiting to rescue any unfortunate soul who might happen upon that puddle, fall in and drown. The man has a hankering for salad that cannot be quenched and so he is planting 27 different kinds of lettuce. And the rain? Well. I have no explanation for that, but you know, (and I remember this distinctly) watching a line of rain approaching my childhood home, coming across the field. Repeatedly, this summer, I have discovered that while it is pouring at my house, two miles away, the sun is shining and it hasn't rained at all. Or vice versa. Interesting, innit?

September 1, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

Everytime I see that dog, I crack up. Hope your having a good/safe trip. See you when you get home.
~J

September 3, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterJfH

Thanks for giving this blog and this is too impressive work.
prix photographe mariage

September 8, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterprix photographe mariage

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