Grandma Moore Copyright 2009 Bryan Moore
Dec 1 My grandmother passed away after a heart attack over the Thanksgiving weekend. I have never lost any one this close to me, and I think the hardest part for me is the idea that I will never see her again. I have lost contact with people, drifted apart from people through the years and theres a good chance I will never see a lot of them again but I have once met but the option is always there, She was always there, but for the first time she won’t be there. All the memories I have with her are all the memories I will ever have. One thing I am thankful for is that I have 28 years of memories with her.
Services were held this past Thursday where my aunt and the church reverend both spoke of her greatest accomplishments, Her family, and giving back to the community. The reverend spoke of he way she welcomed every one in to the community and praised her spirit of generosity volunteer for the church a record amount of times as much as 30 out of the last 52 Sundays.
I will always remember the time spent over summers and Xmas vacation. her house bordered a golf corse with a small creek in between, in the early mornings I would get up and go fish through the creek for all the stay golf balls that golf couldn’t or choose not to find. I would bring them back and my grandparents would pay me a quarter for every ball. In the evening after all the country club players had finished for the day she would take me to the second hole that ran that was near her house and taught me to play golf.
In her spirit of giving she always donated to the center of the arts in midland and would often take me to Dow gardens as flowers and arranging plants was one of her great joys. I also credit her as one of the people who helped me develope my desire to travel the world. her and my grandpa would always travel to far exotic places. She would always have a story about some little curio or wall hanging from some country they had been to.
She was as proud of her family as you can be and when ever I was in town no matter if it was her best friend or just the clerk at a department store she would tell them my whole life story and how proud she was of all the things I was doing. Now is the time I am most proud of her as I hear al the things she accomplished in her life and how much she helped in making me who I am.
Mountain Border Copyright 2009 Bryan Moore
This image was taken in Turkmenistan at the site of old Nissa. The large white line in the foreground is the place where the ancient cities wall use to stand. in the distance the mountains provide a natural border between Turkmenistan and Iran. along the mountain side you can also see a path along the left which is a path way built by Turkmenistan’s first president as a place for citizens to walk and get healthy.
The entrance to Nissa Copyright 2009 Bryan Moore
This was the Entrance to Nissa an ancient City, and one of the first thing I stopped at to see on my trip over Seas. Traveling to see all these ruins some had degraded so much that they just looked like piles of mud but this one still had mud bricks in tact. some bricks were new in the places where the country had tried to rebuild parts of the ruins other parts were old orignal bricks. THe guide said that the old bricks lasted longer than the new even with modern technology the ancient brick were made differently that allowed them to last
The Blue Mosque Istanbul Turkey Copyright 2009 Bryan Moore
My apologizes to all that checked back while I was gone for the new post I had intended to leave a series of flea market images and stories but ran out of time before my flight, although I would like to say thank you for checking back and welcome to all the new viewers as I hit a new high in hits while I was away. As I thank you I hope to be able to share some great new work with you in the coming weeks.
I just got back from an over seas trip to Turkey and Turkmenistan, I shot 73 rolls total and dropped off all the work from Turkmenistan yesterday. so in the next weeks I hope to scan some in to share on here. For now I have a few images I took with my point and shoot digital.
Turkey was beautiful we (me and my father) had great weather while we were there although walking around and seeing the city, I thought it was an amazing city but a very challenging city to photograph. The Blue Mosque (pictured above) is one of Istanbul greatest sites but as I use a hasselbald to shoot with the square format made it hard to get the height of the spires not to mention the width of the domed roof. Even with my digital that has a rectangle format it was hard to get a great angle site. This image was a combination of two pictures I took and were sliced together in Photoshop. I never really manipulate my film work but when working on digital images I feel my goals change to trying to make the image as best I can in this case. The image was changed from color to a sepia toned type print. I don’t think the color one looked bad but I think having it in sepia makes it pop a little more, and become more about tonal scale.
The Radio Copyright 2009 Bryan Moore
The Radio
By:Bryan Moore
The announcers voice cracked over the small speaker of the radio “Johnson steps…the pitcher…he swings…it’s a…”. Ray reaches up to adjust the tuning before he sits back down on his kitchen bar stool and he takes another puff on his tobacco filled pipe, spouting smoke like a locomotive. Only the sound of the ball game hangs heavier in the air. While Ray holds a hand close to his ear, still struggling to hear, he stares blankly into the swirls of smoke that emanate from the end of his pipe, envisioning the game and thinking about the great games he has heard over the years, starting when he used to listen with his dad. The home runs, diving catches, world series and the roar of the crowd. It was then that he realized that the room was silent. He rose slowly and reached up for the little radio that sat atop the refrigerator. He rattled and banged it in his hands in an attempt to get it to work but alas, it was the last out for his radio. He shut off the lights and went to bed. A few months later he tossed the radio on his yard sale table for someone else to instill some old fashion bonding with their children.
The Typewriter Copyright 2009 Bryan Moore
The Typewriter
by: Bryan Moore
The metallic click, click of the keys rang off the crowded book shelves like rain off a tin roof. The shelves were packed with row upon row of books that bore his name. Edward Clayton’s clouded mind poured onto the page, his life drifting
in front of him as he thought of the things collected in his life. Was anyone
deserving of the memories of a life that they had not lead? Burdened with the responsibility of three children and their numerous heirs, his mind wandered back to the carefree years with his wife. But alas, that time was past as was she. Many great words had been transferred from this ribbon to the printed page, but none impacted Edward as much as the ones he regrettably typed now, but it had to be done, for the sake of whatever sanity was left between his now feuding offspring. He carefully thought out and listed the new owners of his mortal life. His life trapped in items only to be ignored. His face soured at the thought as he took firm hold of the paper, ripped it from the typewriters mechanical grasp, squeezed the paper into a crumpled ball and hurled it towards the trash can that sat next to the desk. He smoothly slid another family crested letterhead into the contraption and typed with a furious burst of passion. The keys clicked and clacked as they struck the paper, in the end producing a document with which Edward was most proud. He gave it a good tug and it slipped off the reel. He folded it neatly into thirds and sealed it in an envelope for his lawyer. As he walked proudly from his study, his memories drifted back to his wife and how he longed to see her once again. As he strolled through the house, his knees grew weak at the thought of his lost love. He could see his beautiful young bride aglow with the radiance of complete
happiness. As time passed, the will was read. A jaw dropping awe fell over the children as the lawyer told them their inheritance was but a single typewriter with the message, “You can’t be given happiness, you have to write your own story.”
Graceful laughter Copyright 2009 Bryan Moore
It has been a busy last week I have been getting ready to Leave for Turkmenistan, Getting a new roommate, and Finishing my Freelance job. I think I have everything in order though I have packed dn repacked my bag to see how much I will have with me and if there is any thing else I would need. One thing I wanted to do was predate a few web blogs to be released while I was away. The next few post are a series of images I took at a weekly flea market while working on my collection The Faces of NY. The Images them self are fine but I felt they would benefit from writing.
I don’t consider my self a great writer although it is one of the talents I hope you work on in the future. the next few post are Images of items from the flea market with a small story of the past owner and reason for the item being at the flea market now. These back stories are all made up but are some of the best examples of how I would like to enhance my work further. I hope you enjoy them when I am away and when I get back I hope to have all new work to show.
Flower silhouette Copyright 2009 Bryan Moore
Up Hill Copyright 2009 Bryan Moore
Down Hill Copyright 2009 Bryan Moore
The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Cuban Street Sign Copyright 2009 Bryan Moore
Ever since I got back from Cuba I have been wanting to travel some where else, but where? While working on the book for my Cuba work I also took time of to apply for a number of grants to get the money to travel and document something. while thinking of projects to write about I had looked in to countries that had there borders closed at one point. I researched the history of countries day after day and then came to a country I had never heard of. My father had sent me an article on Turkmenistan, an ex-soviet country that in its entire 15 year history of Independence was ruled by one of the largest personal cults in the world.
With only 1500 visitors last year this seemed like the perfect country to visit for a photo project. The Idea that I could photograph something that most people have never seen is a huge thrill. It’s hard to tell what I will see when I get there in the research I have done there has not a vast amount out there about the country. One of the things I am looking forward to is the huge open air market located in the capital. The Market was originally a big stop on the travelers of the silk road. I am hopping this will provide alot of opportunities for great images. Beyond that there are many sites stretching throw the desert of past great empire that once ruled the land.
