A blog by Bill Hess

Running Dog Publications

P.O. Box 872383 Wasilla, Alaska 99687

 

All photos and text © Bill Hess, unless otherwise noted 
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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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Entries in moon (13)

Thursday
Mar102011

Moon over bare trees; picnic table in the nightwind; Kivgiq fans - please! Don't give up on me! I am plugging away!

By necessity, I must keep this blog exceedingly brief today. Therefore, I present to you the waxing new moon, as it appeared on my walk yesterday evening. I took this picture a bit after 7:00 PM, as lingering daylight slowly faded. 

Yes, although we will not reach the equinox for another 11 days, the season of darkness is over. Until the equinox, our days may still technically be shorter than they are for those of you live in the mid and lower latitudes, but, because of our long, lingering periods of dawn and twilight, they already feel longer.

On Tuesday, in response to the picture of this table that I posted, Fanshaw left this comment:

 

I'm no stranger to frozen lakes but I am mystified by the power poles. Why? How?

 

I gave Fanshaw a brief, deceptive, answer, but promised to go back at night and take a picture to illustrate the purpose.

I almost changed my mind, because, once again, the wind was howling and so I did not expect there to be any activity on the lake.

Still, a promise is a promise, so I drove down and parked my car (the headlights that you see glaring off the ice to the left) got out, and struggled off toward the table. This picture proved to be a huge challenge to take, because the wind was so damn strong I could hardly make any forward progress against it. I would push my way forward two or three steps and then it would push me backwards and I would have to start again.

And it was cold in that wind. It was damn cold. I pulled my hood up to give my ears a little more protection but the wind blasted into that hood, caused it to billow up like a big, round sail, practically lifted me off the ice and sent me twice as far backwards as I had already progressed.

I didn't give up, though, and finally I made it to the table.

Now it ought to be clear why there are power poles here. Lots of people like to purhase pizzas from the Pizza Hut just beyond and then sit at this table and eat the pizza while they watch figure skaters slide, twirl and dance across the ice as hockey players smash each other in the face.

The journey back to the car was much swifter than the one from, because that wind treated me just like I was a sail and sent me shooting across the ice at blinding speed.

It was kind of scary, though, because you can see that the ice is not smooth but rippled and I feared I might fall down and damage my titanium shoulder.

I am most grateful to have this titanium shoulder, but I liked my real one a lot better.

Now - for you fans of Kivgiq who are about to give up on me - don't! I am slowly inching forward. Lots to try to figure out, and my time keeps going off in unexpected divergent directions.

Anyway, Kivgiq fans, just to assure you that I am sticking with it, I am posting this picture of some of you, yourselves, the Kivgiq fans, laughing as Vernon Elavgak of the Barrow Dancers becomes a pink-haired lady and does a funny dance during their amazing and beautiful Kalukaq performance.

Next week - I expect it to happen next week. Don't expect to see it all, though. I've got way more than I can ever show, even if I greatly overdo it blog style.

(Although I did this post in the morning, I set it to post in the afternoon in order to give yesterday's post, which went up late, a little more time at the top of the pile.)

 

View images as slides, please!

 

Saturday
Jan152011

The wind tries to blow the moon away; Jimmy is a bad good cat; we pick up Kalib and Jobe; beauty at the cave temples

Again, I found myself walking in the hard, cold, wind which has seemed to become perpetual lately - temperature about 0 F. Yesterday afternoon, I heard a forecast on the radio calling for an overnight high wind advisory, with winds gusting up to 80 mph (130 km/h) at some places in this valley and temperatures going to -20 F (-28 C).

That would be quite a wind-chill factor.

Well, the night has past and none of that quite came true here - maybe it did somewhere else in the valley but not here. Still, it was a mighty cold brisk wind out there and when you went walking in it, it let you know it.

Even so, Ubiquitous Raven came sailing by.

On the moon, there was no wind at all. See how still it is up there?

The day before, a triple stop sign had ordered me to stop three times. Now, I was ordered to stop once, but I was on foot, so I did not obey that order.

Well, I guess I stopped to take the picture.

But not because I was ordered to.

If I were a child, and  had a sled...

So, just why did the chicken cross the road? I don't know, and this dog doesn't either. Furthermore, neither one of us cares. If a chicken wants to cross the road, that's the chicken's business.

Why do people make such a big deal about a chicken crossing the road, anyway?

When I left to go on my walk, Jimmy had been sitting on the sill of my office window, looking out. This had made me a bit nervous, as Jimmy can do some pretty bad things when he has the office to himself. He turns off hard drives, erases things from my computer and types gibberish into my stories.

I am not making this up - he does all of these things.

Plus, he loves to push things off counters, desks and tables and watch them fall to the floor.

Even so, he looked so happy in the window sill that I decided to chance it and leave him there.

I came home the back way, through the marsh, hoping that I might find some moose there.

I didn't, but when I came up through our back yard, I saw Jimmy sitting right where I had left him about one hour before.

He had been a good cat.

But then Jimmy is always a good cat, even when he is bad.

I don't know how there could be a better cat than Jimmy.

He is ten-and-a-half years old now.

If he goes before me, which seems quite possible, it will be very hard.

Jacob and Lavina wanted to do some major house cleaning this weekend, so they asked us to take the boys. We agreed and in the late afternoon drove into Anchorage to get them.

As you can see, Anchorage has not been scoured by the same high winds that we have - except for the Anchorage Hillside, populated largely by rich people who every winter endure 100 mph plus winds, but they have a really good view from up there. They can see Cook Inlet, Denali, Foraker and a host of active volcanoes.

The snow did not mostly all blow away there the way it did in Wasilla. Plenty was left behind to weather the big warmup - that warmup now being history.

Here we are, picking up the boys. Muzzy wants to come, too. We will not let him.

Now we are getting ready to leave, but before we do, Lisa stops by. That's her and Jacob in the driveway.

On the way out, we stopped at Taco Bell on Muldoon and found a cop with his lights flashing, parked behind an empty vehicle.

I have no idea what the story was. You could look in the Anchorage Daily News, but I doubt that you will find it there, either.

I could have played the role of the true reporter, gotten out, interviewed the officer, took a picture of any suspect with her hands over her eyes. I could have done something like that. I have those basic skills, you know.

If I had done it, then I could tell you why the cop had stopped behind the empty car.

But I was more interested in eating my burrito than in getting the story.

Nobody can fire me.

This is my blog and if I would rather eat a burrito than report on a cop-stop, I can.

We then drove on to Wasilla. The winds weren't bad at all until we reached the hay flats. Then it felt kind of like being in an airplane, flying through turbulence, except that the bumps and jolts were all lateral - no up and down.

A couple of times, we damn near got blasted out of our lane. I could hear the sound of dust and small pebbles smacking the car.

But we made it. I was glad, too, because if we hadn't have I would never have seen this tanker truck roar through the intersection of the Parks and Palmer-Wasilla highways.

I don't know about you, but, at the end of a long, hard, tough, day, I really enjoy seeing a truck blast through the intersection like this.

It just takes all the stress that I feel and carries it down the road with it.

Poor truck driver! Now he must deal with that stress.

Better him than me.

He's probably tougher than I am, better able to take it.

Truck drivers are known for being tough, able to take it.

Once in the house, Kalib found a flashlight. I found another. We played flashlight games.

Jobe does not know how to use a flashlight, but that did not stop him from joining in the games.

Yes, Kalib had brought his spatula - none of the expensive, fancy toys that he got for Christmas and his birthday. Just his spatula.

 

And this from India:

Two girls in front of the cave temples of Badami.

I hate to say this, and I mean no offense to any of my fellow Americans, but after one spends a little time in India and then returns to the US, the way people dress here - at least the women - just seems kind of dull and drab by comparison.

The women in India just dress beautifully - even poverty stricken women, begging in the streets.

They remind me of the Navajo saying, "I walk in beauty."

Badami is a long way from Navajo land, but the red rocks kind of remind me of it, as do temples, built in caves - not the same at all but yet evocative of cliff dwellings.

 

View as slide show

 

Friday
Jan142011

False front; politically correct and other signs of the time; the wind blows, a special girl is fed, a grasshopper befriended

For some damn reason, we have to pay bills - too many bills, adding up to way too much. So I drove to the Carr's Mall and let Margie out to go inside to the credit union and make our car payment. I then circled the parking lot and saw the half moon hanging over these false fronts - built to remind us here in the Far North of the Old West.

After she paid the bill, Margie got back into the car and we headed off to pay the next bill. We found ourselves directly behind this car, being ordered to think. So I thought and this is what I think: within the framework and social context of the car owner's life, community and media followed, these bumper stickers are all most likely 100 percent politically correct.

Ah... to think what might have been!

If you can't read all of the bumper stickers at this size, you probably can in slide show view.

It seemed pretty ridiculous to me and I didn't want to do it, but, being a law-abiding citizen, I stopped three times, just as the sign ordered. I don't think that my doing so made anybody any safer.

As I walked from the car to the post office, I suddenly saw these characters furiously flapping, coming directly in my direction, flying only about 20 to 30 feet above the parking lot. It would have been a wonderful picture had I been ready but, by the time I could draw and shoot, they had already passed by.

Did you know that I am a duck in human disguise?

It's true. I am. One day, I will tell the story. Or maybe I won't. Maybe I will leave readers to wonder and ponder, "what does he mean - he is a duck in human disguise?"

Melanie and Lisa are probably groaning right now.

After we paid the bills, checked the mail and found more bills that need to be paid, we headed home, where I flailed away to no discernable accomplishment on this computer for a bit and then at 4:00 PM I headed to Metro Cafe. There were two vehicles in line ahead of me and, as I waited, Nola came walking out, headed to her own car with a cup for herself.

She stopped to chat, just for as long as her ears could take the icy bite of this bitter wind that now seems to have set in in perpetuity.

Nola would like to open up a coffee shop of her own one day soon - in Hawaii. 

And when she does, I want to stop by and buy a cup from her.

As for this day, when I got to the window, my gift cards in hand, I discovered that, once again, a kindly, anonymous reader of this blog had bought me an Americano and cinnamon roll.

My cup runneth over.

Trees, as seen from the drive-through line at Metro Cafe, after Nola had fled the wind and got back into her car.

I took the usual drive to sip and drink and so passed by Grotto Iona.

The horses from yesterday were still there, socializing.

And this plow was coming down the road, appearing to scrape ice, yet, after it passed by, all the ice still seemed to be in place.

Maybe some of it was gone. What we need now is snow, lots of snow, to cover all this stuff up and make winter look like winter should.

Right now, it's just cold, dry and windy. Not bitter cold, like it can be, but teens and single digits. But when you get into the wind, it feels pretty cold.

As readers who have stuck with me all week can see, my life this week has been pretty mundane and routine. I sit at my computer all day long, breaking away just long enough to go get a coffee or pay some bills.

Pretty boring stuff. Yet, it never seems boring to me.

Please don't abandon me, though. I will get this blog into some excitement pretty soon.

This is the roof of our house, btw. I have just returned from my coffee break.

 

And this from India:

Jesse Clithi runs a little day-care center in Bangalore that also functions kind of like a pre-school here in the US. The day after Soundarya and Anil married, Melanie and I stopped by for a visit along with my niece Sujitha, Soundarya's sister, and her fiance Manoj. The students were mostly about three or four years of age - except for one, who was eight.

She had suffered some kind of malady that had left both her brain and her body underdeveloped and so she was the same size as her classmates and, when it came to play, acted much as they did.

Yet, those who know her say that this little girl is very special, that even though her body is small and her language skills limited, she sees and understands many things that might pass by most of us. I have no doubt but what this is true.

On this day, she wanted to eat only if Manu would feed her. He did.

Suji gives the special girl a kiss.

Manu pats her on the head.

When I started this little project of frequently dropping in an image or few from India at the end of a post, I stated that I was doing so in order to let it be known that Soundarya was not and would not be forgotten, but that I would not be posting pictures of Soundarya herself.

I meant my pictures of Soundarya, which I have spent considerable time sorting through, lately, along with those of Anil, but Sujitha took this picture. She emailed it and three others to me as they were the last pictures of Sandy from her camera. She was a little apologetic about the quality of the 3 megapixel camera that she used, but my contention about pictures is that the feeling captured means much more than the technical quality rendered. 

And in this one, she captured the feeling of Soundarya and her Chooo'weet little friend, the grasshopper.

Suji calls Soundaraya, "Soundu," and uses the word with great affection. Soundu would often write to me of Suji and she would call her, "Barbie," also with great affection.

Perhaps I will include some or all of the three remaining pictures from Suji's camera in a subsequent post.

 

View images as slides

 

Wednesday
Jan122011

Moon behind the trees, icy road, free coffee and four studies of Pioneer Peak in the howling wind

As I walked, the half-moon tried to hide behind the trees. It didn't work. I spotted it, anyway.

I bet you can, too.

The wind was howling - I don't know how strong, but very strong. And the road was icy. It was kind of hard to walk, but I needed to walk, so I walked anyway and I never took a fall. I need to get some crampons to put on my shoes.

I used to have some. I don't know what happened to them.

Margie has some, but they don't fit on my shoes.

Off in the distance, a jet flew overhead. Judging from the direction that it was headed, it must have been on its way to Russia.

I suppose it might have landed before it got to Russia.

Or maybe it made a left turn, or even a right one, and then went and flew over the North Pole.

Despite the fierce wind that blew, Ubiquitous Raven came flying by. He was alone, though. I saw no other ravens on this walk. Usually, I see several.

A moose had walked by here, back when the snow was still good.

Other than my walk and coffee break, I spent the whole day right here, over 12 hours, working in my computer with Jimmy always here to help - and Pistol-Yero, too. I met the kitten seen on the screen in India. Sad story. Sad, sad, sad story.

Why did God design life to be like this?

When I arrived at Metro Cafe, Elizabeth handed me my coffee and cinnamon roll and told me that it was already paid for. As usual, she didn't know by whom. A woman, she said, whereas last time it was a man.

I know for certain that Akponygirl has bought me coffee. If this was again from you, thank you. If it was from someone else, then thank you, whoever you are.

I enjoyed it. And I enjoyed the cinnamon roll. Elisabeth cut it in half for me so that I would not eat the whole thing, but I ate the whole thing, anyway.

It's probably for the best. I was going to give the other half to Margie, but she's diabetic and it had a great deal of sugar on it.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #1: The reason the sky is this color is because the wind, which is fierce, is hurling glacier dust through the air. The reason there is no snow on the ground is because, prior to the big meltdown, the wind, unrestrained here by trees or much of anything, scoured almost all of it away and then the tiny bit that was left melted.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #2: You can get an idea how windy it was.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #3: I actually got out of the car to take this one, but I kept getting struck in the face not only by dust but by small pebbles that were traveling with the wind. I feared one might strike me in the eye, or scratch and chip my lens, so I got back into the car pretty quick.

This guy had this in the back of his truck, but it got blown out. Now he is trying to put it back into his truck.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #4: When Kalib came home from work, he reported that a number of his co-workers, all of whom use this same parking lot, lost car windows on this day, after the wind hurled pebbles into them with enough force to blow them out.

 

And this one from India:

Among the ruins of Hampi.

 

View images as slide show

 

Friday
Jan072011

The days lengthen; Eight studies of the new moon; Jimmy wastes my time; man climbs bamboo ladder

The days are lengthening. Here I am, at 4:00 PM, driving to Metro Cafe and I can actually see and photograph this guy and his bike. True, I am shooting at ISO 6400 at a slow shutter speed, underexposed by one stop, but still, I can photograph him even though there are no lights nearby.

This would not have been the case a very short time ago.

Shoshana served me my Americano and cinnamon roll, plus I brought a banana with me. I thought about doing more "Young Writer" studies of Shoshana, but I suppose I should not do them everyday but should give her a break between shoots.

Now here I am, driving away from Metro, on Schrock, toward the Talkeetna Mountains. Before I reach them, I will turn left, to the west.

I sip my coffee. I eat my cinnamon roll. I chomp on my banana. I listen to the news on All Things Considered. The NPR lady who fired Juan Williams has now been forced to resign herself.

NPR tries to get a quote from Juan, but he won't talk to them, so they pull a very embittered sounding quote from Juan Williams on Fox News, where he has been paid $3.5 million dollars to turn around on himself and is doing a very good job of it.

As I continue on, I spot the new moon. I understand that the way one is supposed to take such photos is to find just the right spot, stop his car, get out, anchor his camera on a tripod, shoot will as low an ISO as he can get away with and a stopped down aperture.

But I want to drive, to eat my cinnamon roll and listen to the news. So I shot at 6400 ISO, slow shutter speed, wide open aperture, many of the images through a dirty windshield but some, when the angle was right, through an open window.

This pictures look much neater on my big monitor and I hate to have to reduce them to this size, but that's how it is. They will appear a bit larger in slideshow view, but nothing like on my screen.

Oh well:

New Moon, Study #1

New Moon, Study #2

New Moon, Study #3

New Moon, Study #4

New Moon, Study #5

New Moon, Study #6

New Moon, Study #7

New Moon, Study #8

Well, this battle for sleep continues. I got to sleep somewhere between 1:30 and 2:00 AM and could not sleep a wink past 5:00. I stayed in bed and tried my best until just before 6:00, when I quit trying, got up and headed to Family Restaurant.

I was almost alone there, but not quite.

It appears that the dreadful heat wave is over. It is still not cold: 6 degrees F (-15 C)  at my house, but it isn't warm, either. Maybe it will get cold, maybe it won't. I wish it would snow a bunch first, because what little we have left is not so much snow as a hard, crust of ice, but if it gets cold it won't snow, because it never snows when it is cold.

Except for mid-winter rain, cold and no snow is the worst kind of winter weather - except for ice skaters, who get to enjoy long skates on snow-free lakes and marshes.

Any, here I am, having just stepped out of Family Restaurant, ready to drive home.

After I got home, I prepared the pictures for this blog post. It was now about 9:00 AM. I suddenly felt a crash coming on. I had no choice but to go lie down for a bit. Jimmy, my good black cat, came with me. I crawled under the covers and lay on my side. He climbed on top of the covers and also lay on my side.

I decided to leave it up to him to decide when I should get up. When he decided it was time to get up off of me, I would get back out of bed. I figured this could be anywhere from from five minutes to one hour. I was kind of hoping for half an hour.

Crazy cat. He didn't move for 3.5 hours and neither did I.

All that time was lost.

Well, I will make up for it tonight, when rational people are asleep.

 

And this one from India:

Through the window of our taxi-cab, enroute from Bangalore to Mysore: Man climbs bamboo ladder.

 

View as slideshow