I stepped out of the house twice today and these are the people that I saw

Determined to get myself on a schedule that is more in sync with the world around me, at 3:30 in the morning I set my iPhone alarm for 10:00 AM, right about sunrise. I had not engaged in my favorite morning activity for quite some time - going out for breakfast. I told Margie that if I made it up before 11:00, I would go to breakfast at Abby's and invited her to come with me.

I didn't sleep very good and I don't think I will until these shingles leave me. I believe they are on the retreat, the scabs are gone and the color is fading, but even so they are pretty damn tenacious. When the alarm went off, I could hardly move. So I tapped "snooze." Pretty soon it went off again, so I tapped "snooze" again.

I did this about three times and then finally got up at about 10:20.

Margie had already eaten, so I went to Abby's Home Cooking by myself.

Tim Mahoney was there, drinking his coffee from a cowboy cup. That's bowhead balleen from Barrow on the wall, brought back by another Mahoney brother who had been working on a construction project.

This is baby Luke. Just like baby Lynx, he was born small - five pounds, eight ounces. He went down to five pounds before he started gaining weight but now he is growing and looks fit and happy.

The eggs, ham, hashbrowns, homemade wheat bread toast cut thick and topped with butter and raspberry jam were excellent.

Abby said she had been worried about me and Margie because she had not seen us for a long time. She looked at this blog to reassure herself but still was worried. So she wouldn't let me pay for breakfast, because she was that relieved to see me.

I left a big tip.

A little after 4:00 PM, I headed out into the dark and ventured off to Metro Cafe. I have not shot any Young Writer studies for quite awhile, but here is one:

Shoshana the Young Writer, Study #2228: Shoshana about to prepare my Americano.

And one more:

Shoshana the Young Writer, Study #4: Shoshana stirs cream and raw sugar into my Americano.

And that pretty much sums up the people I saw during my two adventures outside the house today.

Return to a missing day: bunny rabbit, cowboy and grandson, dogs, bear, horse hair and more

During my hiatus, I continued to take pictures as usual -- far too many to go back and blog it all, but I will blog a little bit of it. There are a couple of photographic encounters that stand out in my mind, and I will still blog those for sure. I thought about blogging one of them today, but my readership always falls on Saturdays, so instead, I closed my eyes, ran my cursor up and down over the list of missing days, stopped, opened my eyes, and found the cursor had stopped on Thursday, September 1.

So here we go on that day:

I decided to have breakfast at Abby's Home Cooking and to go by bicycle. When I stepped out of the house, I saw this bunny rabbit dashing through the yard.

Poor bunny rabbits.

They seemed to appear out of nowhere early this summer... two or three, maybe. Their numbers quickly grew. Soon, bunny rabbits were everywhere. One evening, I came driving down Sarah's way and there was a bunny rabbit standing at the end of every driveway, like little sentries. I passed maybe ten houses protected by these little sentries.

Then, a few weeks ago, their numbers began to decline. Dogs? Maybe someone had a feast of bunny rabbit stew, somewhere, with bunny rabbits packed into the freezer for later? Humanely trapped and gone to the pound? Perished on chilly nights?

There are still a few bunny rabbits out there, but, a month from now, there won't be.

Winter is coming. These bunny rabbits are not winter rabbits.

Around here, winter is the domain of the snowshoe hare, dinner to the lynx, fox, and eagle.

Snowshoe hares are Arctic tough. These bunny rabbits are not.

At Abby's Home Cooking, I found Tim Mahoney, drinking coffee and feeding a fresh cinamon roll to his grandson, five-year old Wesley.

Wesley already helps out on the ranch.

Tim and Wesley, headed out the door.

Tim and Wesley, getting into the truck.

I was pedalling home when suddenly this dog shot past me, striking from behind, grazing my left ankle as it passed. It gave me a start, but then I recognized it. I know this dog. He likes to stage quick ambush charges, which can really startle you, because he seems to suddenly materialize out of nowhere and for a moment you do not know what is happening.

He is not a mean dog, though. He just likes to give you a start. Once he has done so, he is harmless, even without the muzzle.

I wonder if he has had any bunny rabbits to eat?

As usual when I am home, the remainder of September 1 was pretty much spent at my computer - although I did take my usual 4:00 PM coffee break at Metro Cafe. As I was driving and sipping on Sunset, this dog came charging after my car. 

The dog falls back, as seen in my rearview mirror.

Continuing on, I saw that a conversation was taking place ahead, at the side of the road.

I have no idea what they were conversing about. Could have been anything... dogs, horses, women, politics, the high cost of gas, all the heat and fire in Texas and how they're sure glad they are here and not there... I don't know. 

Anything.

Peanut butter, perhaps. Does it go better with honey or jelly?

Honey, I say - but jelly can be pretty good, too.

Especially when you are cold and you have been cold for a long time, but now someone has given you a hot thermos of coffee and some Sailor Boy pilot bread cookies and there is peanut butter and you slather it on, spread jelly on top of that and you feel the heat of the coffee as it chases the peanut butter jelly down your gullet and then you have to say, this peanut butter and jelly is pretty damn good, so you lather up another.

I continued and soon saw a little black bear crossing the road ahead of me. I hoped to catch up to it before it disappeared into the trees, but it disappeared quick.

Lately, I have heard reports of some big grizzlys in this same area - of paw prints over a foot long.

On Shrock I had to pull to the side of the road to let this screaming ambulance pass by.

Somewhere nearby, someone's day had gone terribly wrong.

I hope not too terrible, but who knows?

Perhaps for someone it was the day that ended all days; perhaps someone just had bad gas and thought it was a heart attack, or maybe they shattered their shoulder like I did.

I don't know.

Come evening, I took my bike ride. These two passed me on Church Road and as they did, the kid in back waved at me. I did not have my camera ready and I missed the picture.

I felt bad about that, but there was a downhill stretch ahead of me, so maybe I could get another chance. I pedaled as hard and fast as I could and caught them and passed them about a quarter mile on. As I passed, they both waved.

I stopped at the Mahoney Ranch and took a few photos of the oats, standing in teepee-like bundles. I am not going to post those pictures, because on other days I got some, complete with Mahoneys, that I like better.

As I was taking pictures, I heard someone shout, "Hey, Bill!" I looked up and saw a Mahoney horse, in the distance, too far away for me to photograph. "I notice your hair is getting thin," the horse shouted with the full force of his massive lungs. "I left some of mine on the fence for you. Put it on your head. You'll look lots better then."

Now, back to just yesterday:

Okay... just to keep this timely, I return almost to the present, to yesterday: Kalib, pushing an empty stroller through the back yard. His mom experienced many contractions yesterday, but did not go into full labor.

We are definitely on baby watch, now.

Study of the Young Writer, Shoshana, at Metro Cafe #7,829: Shoshana with Jay Cross, pilot and aircraft mechanic. Jay was thinking that maybe my airplane could be put back into the air for less than I think. Someday,he wants to come by take a look at it.

Unless I get rich, I think that airplane is done for. As I have stated before, if I could come up with the money to put it back into the air, I would just buy another one, so that I could get there, quick. But if I get rich, I will buy another and get my wreck rebuilt and then keep both. That airplane and I had many good experiences together. I love that airplane, and that's why I keep it around, even though its no good anymore.

My next door neighbor hates my plane. He built a fence between us, just so he wouldn't have to look at it.

He doesn't like cats, either. In fact, he hates cats.

Otherwise, he seems to be a pretty decent fellow, but I doubt that we will ever be the best of friends. He keeps pretty much to himself and so do we.

I wonder how he feels about bunny rabbits? Hopping through his yard?

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Retreat becomes full-blown hiatus - final post until September 15: puddle lakes, familiar road, study of the young writer

I shot two scenes today, both on my morning walk, and one portrait, on my coffee break. This is the first scene and I shot it because when I saw these puddles, I was reminded of how it used to be when I would be flying my airplane and would look down and see a seemingly endless spatter of lakes laid out across the tundra.

Minnesota boasts of 10,000 lakes. There are 3 million in Alaska and I used to fly over them in my little airplane. I would pay very close attention to those lakes, and match them up with the ones on my map. I always wanted to know just where I was.

Once I lost track and then all the lakes looked the same and I could not match any of them to my map. Oh, well. I just followed my compass and it took me to where I wanted to go, anyway - that being Umiat. Then GPS came along and it didn't seem to matter anymore, but still I kept track of those lakes, because I still wanted to always know where I was.

I long to fly over those lakes again.

I have photographed this stretch of road many times - with snow, school buses, people on bicycles, fall leaves, dogs running, moose crossing, a cat walking... but somehow, today, when I looked at it, it looked different to me than it had ever looked before.

So I shot it again.

Afterward, I realized - this summer retreat that I announced awhile back - this effort to keep this blog short and simple? I must make it a full hiatus and break away until mid-September.

It is not because I am tired of doing the blog. I love doing the blog. Of all the forms of publishing that I have ever engaged myself in there is only one that I like doing better than the blog - and that is the writing and making of books.

That is my favorite thing of all - to write and make books - I have done a lot of book writing and making that still needs to be brought to completion - and then this blog.

But I have some projects I must finish, and soon, including two Uiñiq magazines, the second of which will probably be the last Uiñiq I ever do. I can't say that for certain, because I thought that in 1996, yet I wound up doing some more.

If I am to finish these Uiñiqs and the two other jobs I have lined up between now and summer's end, I must put aside as many distractions as I possibly can.

And, as much as I love it, this blog is a distraction from those projects.

So I am putting it aside until September 15, when all the paying projects that I am working on should be done.

Then I truly need to figure out how to make online publishing pay, because I either figure out how to live in the world of online publishing or I go under. It is that simple.

The old ways of doing things are fading and, when I finish my current projects, I am pretty sure they will be over for me, for good, permanently.

So I have to figure it out.

I do not have the temperament to take a regular job - even a photography job - and to work for someone and get bossed around. And there aren't so many good jobs left anymore, anyway, because everybody's got a camera on their phone and everybody is on Facebook and photographs are seen more and more as cheap and common things that are to be taken for free and given away for free and it is pretty hard to compete against free and for free.

And yet, to survive online, one must somehow learn to give away his work for free and yet bring in income for doing it.

I have yet to figure it out, but I must.

If I can, I can really do something.

If not... no... it can work. I know it can work.

It must work. It will work. 

I can do it and I will do it.

I just don't know how.

Haven't a clue.

This is the portrait I shot, just before I rolled past the drive-through window at Metro Cafe. Hence:

Study of the Young Writer, Shoshana, #7,921: she appears at the Metro window with a braid in her hair.

I know that in taking such a long break, I will lose some of my current readers for good. Other things will fill the time they now devote to this blog and when I return, they will just keep going on as they are.

But I won't lose Shoshana. She will come back and she will read the blog again. I am confident that others among you will, too.

And then I have to get... I don't know... say, 100,000 or so more new readers to join in.

Maybe a million more.

Or one very rich philanthropist who wants to turn me loose.

Then I would not have to worry about making a living and I could really go nuts. I could make an online publication like no one had ever seen before.

I am not saying it would be the best online photographic publication in the world - not with great publications out there like Burn and Visura and Lens, drawing on a wide variety of the best photo talent in the world. But it would be good and it would be like nothing else anyone had seen before. This I am confident of.

Alaska would come alive, right here, in my blog, or whatever my blog becomes or merges with. ALIVE!!! Because this place called Alaska lives, and I live to be in it.

That will not happen, of course. That philanthropist does not exist. But, somehow... I just have to figure it out.

Maybe pulling back from it for awhile will help me figure it out.

Or maybe it is all a foolish dream, destined to go the way of all foolish dreams.

No... no... I cannot yield to that notion.

I will keep reading Shoshana's stories as well. When she finishes a story, she brings a copy to Metro Cafe and passes it through the window to me, along with the coffee and the pastry.

That is why I know she is a talented writer. She is a talented barista as well, but her talents go way beyond making and serving lattes.

See you in September!

PS: Even though I will not be posting, I will keep shooting, everyday, capturing smatterings of whatever I see, just as I have been.

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Mended computer; Shoshana study; the vandalized fence; young music producer Alan Drumsbarger

I back up to the day before yesterday:

The stress of the combination of being both without a working computer and the necessary capital to pay bills took its toll, so much so that once I found myself with a good working computer and funds enough in the bank to carry us for some time, I suddenly felt drained. All energy left me.

At 4:00 PM, Margie drove into ?downtown? Wasilla to shop for groceries and pay bills. I had her drop me off at Metro Cafe, so I could walk home. I would have ridden my bike, but I did not feel that I had the energy to pedal it.

That put me on the inside of Metro. There, I saw Greg pull up to the window. I often see Greg through that window, but usually I am in the car and looking at him on the inside on the other side of the counter. Somehow, Greg and I often wind up at Metro at the same time and he has appeared in a number of studies. Today, it was reversed - I on the inside and he out, looking in. Hence, the above study:

Study of the young writer, Shoshana, #6921: just after she handed a Rockstar power drink to Greg, he on the outside looking in, me on the inside looking out, and accepted his payment.

I had to pay Shoshana for my coffee and pastry of the previous day as well, because on that day I had not been able to scrape together even enough loose change but they knew I was good for it and so carried me for a day. Now I am flush and the summer ahead looks good.

Such can be the life of a freelance photographer/writer. You gotta love it to do it, and if you don't love it, you can't do it. To live this way, it must be the only way your soul will allow you to live.

I walked on the bike trail towards home. I had not gone far before I came upon this fence, newly bashed in several places. Alas, folks, this kind of thing is part of Wasilla, too. It really is. Most folks here are decent, I believe, but there is an element who simply have no respect for anybody or anything but would sure whine mightily were the situation reversed even slightly.

Somebody spends money, works hard, takes pride, and then someone who understands nothing of life comes along and does this.

Probably a kid or a couple of kids, and since we were all kids once, we must forgive kids of many things, but in a case like this, forgiveness should come only after a significant price is paid - including full restoration of the fence.

I walked a little further down the bike trail, then turned around to get a comprehensive view of the damage. I saw a stranger coming along.

It turned out to be Alan Drumsbarger, who is not a stranger any more. "Nice camera," he said, when he caught up to me about two blocks down. We then walked and chatted together for a few more blocks. Alan was born and raised in Wasilla and now runs a little music recording business, 49 State Records, along with relatives and friends. He has a studio in his basement.

He is also a guitarist and base player, and stands in with many bands.

As we walked and talked, he told me all about his studio, and the hard and soft ware that he uses to record and produce music. He told me many things, more than I can take the time to write here. When I asked him if the business was profitable, he laughed. It's an art, you know, and artists are driven by other forces first and profit second, or maybe third or fourth or fifth or maybe they don't even give a damn about profit, but it is just one of those evil necessities that must be figured out, just to allow them to survive and keep making their art.

He did not say it that way, but I know for a first-hand fact that is how it is with some artists.

You will notice that I once again have four photos, whereas I had set a time-saving limit of three.

Well, with this computer now running hot and fast, trust me, I prepared these four photos MUCH faster than I would have prepared three, before Bruce pointed me toward this fix.

Now, if only I could do something about the many time-wasting inefficiencies built into Squarespace, my bloghost, I could add even more images in the same time.

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Encounters at the Post Office: an aging dog, the man who loves the dog even more than he loves cameras and the anonymous woman coffee buyer; health benefits of coffee

I spotted them the other day at the post office as I was walking back to my car, the man still in his car with the dog. I thought, "I should photograph these two before the man gets out of the car," but I was feeling very lazy, tired to the extreme, worn down by all my recent travels and sleepless nights.

If I took the picture, then it would only be right to show it to the man and dog and tell them what I was doing, but I did not feel like explaining anything to anyone and I already had a tremendous amount of pictures to deal with, so I let the moment pass.

Just before I got into my car, the man stepped out of his car and commented on my camera. He wondered if it it was film or digital and if one could even still buy film at all.

He still had an old film camera, he said, but the camera didn't work anymore. He loved photography, he loved film. He had misgivings toward digital.

So I told him I would like to photograph his dog with my digital camera and he said sure. He wondered if he should roll down the window so that I could see the dog better but I told him "no" because if he left it up I could get both the dog and him in the picture - he by reflection.

The dog is Sleater, and she is 13 years old. She has cataracts and diabetes. Jerry would like to buy a new camera, but he spends a lot of money on Sleater's medical bills. There is not enough left to spare for a new camera.

Through the Metro Window, study # 4997: Discussing the health benefits of coffee

At the post office, I also came upon someone else. I am not quite certain who. A woman. Was it the woman driving a pickup truck who parked in the spot next to mine? Was it the woman who came through the door right behind me, so instead of letting it shut in her face I held it open and she walked through and smiled and said "Thank you?"

Or was it the one who held the door for me and I said "Thank you," to?

Or just one I passed in the hall?

There was one more who I remember seeing as she walked on the sidewalk to the post office door and then went inside well before I reached the door? She returned to her car even as I was still getting my mail.

These incidents happened on a couple of different days and I cannot quite sort which ones happened on the very day that I pulled up to the window at Metro Cafe and Carmen said my coffee was free, that a woman had seen me at the Post Office and so had bought this coffee for me, plus a pastry and she had even left one dollar for the tip.

This left a quarter in change, so Carmen gave me the quarter.

Whichever one of these ladies you might have been - thank you!

I also heard a story on NPR about coffee and health and in particular, prostate health. A study had been done and it found that men who drank a goodly amount of coffee were 60 percent less likely to get prostate cancer than men who did not. 

Those who drank a modest amount of coffee, 30 percent less likely.

And it noted that due to the anti-oxcidents in coffee, there are many other health benefits to be had from drinking coffee.

In my upbringing, to drink a cup of coffee was to sin - and to sin big.

I developed prostate problems very early in life. These problems caused me a great deal of pain and discomfort. I had to get up two or three times a night - sometimes even more.

I did not start drinking coffee until I started to hang out with Iñupiat whale hunters. 

It took a lot of years, but those prostate pains and problems all seem to have gone away.

Most nights, I do not have to get up even once now.

I did take some medication for awhile and it helped a lot, but I had to stop because I could not afford it and the insurance company that charged me cadillac premiums for clunker service and eventually drove me off their rolls before health care could pass would not help with the medications.

Yet the problems went away after I quit the medication.

Coffee?

I don't know. Maybe. Could have been.

In this picture, by the way, Carmen, Shoshana and I are having a serious discussion about the health benefits of drinking coffee, vs. religious taboos against drinking coffee.

In some ways, I still feel like I am committing a grave sin everytime I drink a cup of coffee, but I enjoy the coffee and maybe, just maybe, it is helping to keep me alive.

The story said that for maximum benefit, one should drink six cups of coffee every day. 

I would, but I fear that if I drank that much coffee every day, it would kill me.

When I am with whalers, I sometimes drink that much coffee but when one is on the ice the body metabolizes everything very fast.

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