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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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Thursday
Sep302010

Too busy to blog today, so here is Pistol-Yero, at the moment of forgiveness

DateThursday, September 30, 2010 at 3:04PM

Truly, good readers, I am too pressed for time to blog today. It could be this way for a couple of days. Still, to affirm my presence in cyberspace, I feel a need to post something, so here is Pistol-Yero.

We had suffered a little dispute and Pistol had gone into the garage to growl and hiss, because he is the kind of cat that does that when he can't always get his way. I sat down to work, but left the door between my office and the garage open enough to allow him to come in when he felt ready.

After about two hours, he suddenly appeared on my lap. He rotated his head toward me until it came into contact with my chest, just below my chin. He spent about 15 minutes there, leaning into me, purring.

Tavra.

This is all I have to say today.

AuthorWasilla, Alaska, by 300 | Comment7 Comments |
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Reader Comments (7)

Awww so sweet. I'm currently in disfavor with my "Bits" because I had the temerity to cut his claws last night. To say he hates it is to put it mildly. He doesn't forgive as easily as Pistol -Yerro. Unlike his brother "Sammy" he holds grudges. =) He did sleep with me last night - careful not to touch me. When I petted him, he moved out of reach, letting me know he was still mad. He's still avoiding me, but I sense a thaw on the way. Aren't they just awesome? And a source of continuing amusement & love.

Thanks for taking the time to share the picture & story when you're so busy. Just do what you have to do, we'll be here when you get back.

September 30, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterKat

glad all is right again...i'm hoping to have a cat again someday .

October 1, 2010 | Unregistered Commentertwain12

Oops - sorry, I misspelled Pistol-Yero who is indeed an awesome kitty.

October 1, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterKat

LOL-
I have a pistol-kitty too!
Only mine keeps a half option for returning to hostilities open when she returns for that purring in your lap session.
She keeps her back to me :-)
Best wishes for your projects and thank you for popping in here for us!

October 1, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterAlaska Pi

Tim sulks and stalks off to the garage to growl and hiss when he does not get his way, and he gives me the same look that Pistol-Yero gives you upon his return.

Interpretation? : "Okay. I'm feeling better now. Feed me."

October 1, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

I like the focus, or lack there-of. It reminds of my fabulous toy, a lens-baby.
Cats! What would we do without them?

October 1, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterLittle Sister

Bill, just discovered your blog. I have seen your work around, but did not know you lived so close. I live just off Seldon on Camby. I run our siberians up to Church and back. My wife walks them at 5am.
Mike

Newest Blog Post

October 3, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterMike Criss

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