Top
A blog by Bill Hess

Running Dog Publications

P.O. Box 872383 Wasilla, Alaska 99687

 

All photos and text © Bill Hess, unless otherwise noted 
All support is appreciated
Bill Hess's other sites
Search
Navigation
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.

Blog archive
Blog arhive - page view

Entries in Tiffany (1)

Friday
Apr102009

Valiant though his effort be, Muzzy pees and pees and pees and pees, yet fails to reclaim Serendipity

DateFriday, April 10, 2009 at 6:50PM

Muzzy and I walked into Upper Serendipity (the developers call it, "Serendipity Hills) and Muzzy immediately marked the subdivision as his.

Muzzy continually checked for any challenges to his claim as we walked on through Serendipity.

Perhaps some dog has challenged him on that berm, but the leash is too short for him to reach and sniff it.

The Saint Bernard zeros in on a challenge.

Muzzy stakes his claim deeper in Serendipity.

He believes himself to be grabbing even more new territory.

He will soon claim this spot, too.

Of all the new homes in Serendipity, this is the most ostentatious - excuse me - I mean "grand." This is the most grand home in all of Serendipity. Muzzy must find just the right spot before he stakes his claim.

Muzzy finds the spot. He claims the property, along with all of Serendipity.

He zeros in on his next mark.

Soon, we will leave Serendipity. He reinforces his claim with a final mark.

Muzzy is proud and happy. He believes that he has claimed all of Serendipity. He does not realize that human law does not recognize "Deed by Pee." He does not realize that, the moment someone called these former woods Serendipity, they were lost to us forever.

As we near home and walk back down Sarah's Way (the name was quite innocent back when we moved in) we spot Tiffany driving the oppposite way. She had been at the house to visit Caleb. She stops and pets Muzzy, who still believes himself to be the owner of Serendipity.

He is most definitely The King of Pee.

AuthorWasilla, Alaska, by 300 | Comment3 Comments |
in , , , ,