The Mighty Quinn Oatmeal Stout Redux

The Mighty Quinn Oatmeal Stout (version 2) is bottled and labeled.

The re-shoot with Quinn, the mighty, didn't go quite like I planned. I had the boots, the shirt, the shovel, the helmet - everything I thought I needed. But I also got a big dose of (the) protest.

That's okay. Boy was tired and wanted to watch some Yo Gabba Gabba. I understand. And I can work with this. An Oatmeal Stout seems to be a good solid beer for those exhausted after a long day at work (Fuck yes I love a few after a 13 hour day of teaching). Why not just go with the slightly exasperated, more melancholy than I had hoped for, expression on his face?

I did. And I think I'm happy with the photograph I came up with. Grittier than I'd planned at first, but Stout!

Hopefully, this beer will best version 1 which for some reason, tasted great but poured with a mighty foam. This version scales down the hops a bit and ups the chocolate and crystal malts. Tasted great flat and warm when I bottled it, so I have my fingers crossed.

Daddy put that camera away.

The terrible two's are almost over. And they haven't been terrible at all. Quinn had some epic toddler tantrums when he was about 20 months old. Frigin legendary. He would protest everything. But until recently, he's been happy to oblige daddy for the most part.

Except he appears to be tired of getting his picture taken. And I'm talking stills images here. He still loves watching himself in the video LCD (he insists on watching the footage as it records). But pull out the DSLR and just try to get some cooperation.

Here are a few shots as I tried to get him to show me his Popsicle stains on his chin:


Not very happy with daddy. But still frigin cute.

Now that I've found somewhere safe

To bury my bone.

I'm thinking that maybe this is not the best music for the gym.
The song, Pigs on the Wing, really just makes me want to do three sets of staring (I'm typing this later as I recollect).

But, frick, the album cover art for Animals is still inspiring.
One of my favorites still. A shelter for pigs on the wing.

How I love thee...

Oatmeal Stout.

One of my goals in life, besides doing a Fulbright and raising a good boy, is to craft the perfect Oatmeal Stout. My mind has shifted to this goal last night when I bottled the latest brew - the Barley DoppelBark.

So up next is The Mighty Quinn's Oatmeal Stout (version 2). I was just working on a rough of the label:


I'm digging the boots and the gesture. There is some mighty in there. Quinn stepped into these not on my urge, but on his own. And it was frigin cute. Now I need to get him to do the same thing while holding a shovel above his head while I shoot from a lower angle.

Yeah...best of luck with this.

Quinn will never do the same thing twice. So, I'm sure this will be a battle of wills. And I doubt that me repeating "but Quinn, you'll have your own beer named after you" will help.

I should be working on The Mighty Quinn's Oatmeal Cookie.

Squirrel, You Will Find a Home.

Today was a visually productive day. Or at least it will be. I photographed a friends bone collection. Err, well, her collection of dead things. There were a few incredibly fascinating specimens.



Like this squirrel whose arms were spread as if it had been crucified. As soon as I framed it in my viewfinder I knew...I will use this image.

And now I feel as if I have some sort of responsibility for it. Not the dead squirrel, but the image of the dead squirrel. You see, the image, bathed in it's white surround - it's such a beautiful metaphor already. I just want to use it and not fuck it up.

And we digital artists and digital photographers do this some time. We take things top far. We make the real artificial and in doing this it becomes superficial. So squirrel, I promise you this. You will find a home within my imagery (hopefully, within this Dig series I'm currently constructing), where you belong. A visual home that makes you metaphorically stronger. You will be the amazing bionic dead squirrel.

Probably The Best Pantry Photograph Ever

But possibly not. I mean I do really like it. How could I not? It's Beer. Ten gallons of really good (I hope) home-brewed beer with an ABV of about 16% between them. And an added bonus - it's sitting next to 20 lbs. of pasta (Bucatini, another fave).

Wait, where were we...Oh yeah, thinking about photographs.

Photographically, this isn't going to become one of the images I exhibit, though perhaps, in the right context it could impress some meaning on the viewer. I'm thinking that a powerful photograph should transcend it subject, should shed some light on it. It should "set the stage" (as a former professor of mine at Ohio State used to say) for some meaningful dialog with the viewer.

This is not that kind of image.

I find gratification in the image not for it's formal qualities, or because it reflects some profound meaning. Let's face it. An photographic image is subject bound. It can't escape this fact. But I should separate whats great about the image from what's in the picture.

So while my pantry has never looked so beautiful, this is not a product of my photographic skill. Just my love for beer and pasta.

Failure: The Opportunity

I've been teaching at the University level for many years. One of my mantras has always been that failure, for an artist, can be a good thing. Creativity can't exist without a struggle. One can't break new ground if the ground doesn't present an obstacle. If we end up just where we thought we would well, then, what have we really learned?

I'm not the first to notice this. There have been countless artist before me who have recognized that artistic creation is not just the product of moving from point A to B. It's more like swimming through a fog. I know I'm on my way to SOMETHING. What that SOMETHING is still a bit obscure...distorted...fuzzy.

Lately, however, I've noticed that parenting magazine are commenting on this as well - recognizing that a child can't grow without facing challenges, and more importantly, overcoming their initial failure with independent persistence. So, we are encouraged to step back and let the little one fail. Right. Sure. No problem. This is what I've been saying to my students all along.

In truth. It's pretty hard.