Monthly Archives: January 2004

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Snow tree.

[caption id="attachment_2405" align="alignnone" width="580" caption="rural Kearney, Neb."]rural Kearney, Neb.[/caption]

Monday, January 26, 2004

This photo is for Melanie who doesn’t get to see winter anymore.

Pudding time, children.

[caption id="attachment_2408" align="alignnone" width="576" caption="Ryan and Lane circa 1996"]Ryan and Lane circa 1997[/caption]

Friday, January 16, 2004

It was spring of 1996, to the best of my memory. In those days Ryan Soderlin and I had just finished our first photojournalism class. At this point in our lives neither had ever earned a penny with our cameras. Everything was new: confusing and fascinating at the same time. We were dumbfounded by certain foreign photography techniques such as using a flash. I had yet to grasp any concept of composition and light.

It was during that first class when Ryan and I started a weekly ceremony of listening to CCR, eating tapioca pudding and drinking Busch Light (at least Ryan did, I was only 20 and of course didn

2003 Year in Numbers

[caption id="attachment_2411" align="alignnone" width="652" caption="Sarah, Seaside, Ore."]Sarah, Seaside, Ore.[/caption]

Thursday, January 15, 2004

With the turning of each new year

there is always some time for reflection. What a ride 2003 was,

and the numbers prove it. Only two weeks late, I present to you

my very own YEAR IN NUMBERS

16000

4786

1353

250

205

140

83

81

57

28

24

17

10

6

5

4

3

2

1

0

approximate number of miles driven

unique visits to my web page

feet high is the Sears Tower Skydeck, one of the many places I visited

approximate number of baby calves whose first human contact was with me

eartag of the cow that tried to kill me….twice

approximate number of kids who I taught photography to

speed I was driving when my streak of warnings without a ticket was broken

photos posted in my web journal

journal entries

my age at the end of it all. No, my income did not match it.

states visited, 7 of them new

love letters sent to me in Maine

my streak of warnings, which was broken

gigs of hard drive space worth of photos wiped out

number of W2 tax forms I expect to get this month

towns lived in

grandparents who I got to know better than I ever had

coasts that wet my feet

soulmate found

regrets