Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Out of Necessity


I am staring at a blinking cursor. There is so much potential in that little flickering set of pixels. Out of that blinking cursor comes something new. Created out of someone's mind and onto the screen. Right now I am that little blinking cursor. I am filled with potential, hope, something great, and it is up to me to make something of my talents and love of what I do.

I looked at losing my job earlier this year as devastating, and it was, but something special has happened this summer. I got to know my kids a little better. I got to know myself a little better. I learned very quickly what I wanted to do. I wanted to do something with my photography. I wanted to capture and sell and make myself the number one resource for fire departments to capture their stories. I wanted to start a relationship with the Cleveland Fire Department, a fire department coming off one of the worst scandals in it's history, to become a person they could turn to when they wanted quality photos of what they do. The activities of a few should not taint the public perception of the good work they do and I wanted to tell their story. I also wanted to double down my involvement in Fire Photographer Magazine and help it grow.

I can tell you that everything I set out out to accomplish this summer has happened. I have qucikly become Cleveland's go to on-scene guy for big events. The first event grew into another, and into another, and by the end of summer firefighters recognized me, other agencies recognized me, and I was standing in a live fire burn house snapping frames of doctors playing the role of firefighters. I met the chief, battalion chiefs, and PIOs I am happy to call my friend. People who I look up to as super heroes know my name. I was invited to sail on a Navy warship with them. I was given incredible access to capture things the general public don't get to see. Fire Photographer Magazine is growing, so what's the next step?

My dream job is working on a fire department as their official photographer. That is not a secret. When will that happen? I don't know if it will ever happen, but instead of looking at the summer as a waste, I am using it as a stepping stone for the next steps. I need to live, I need to contribute monies to the bills my wife has been working hard to pay, and I need to feel creatively satisfied.

My wife and I have been tossing around the idea of opening a creative studio. I would work as a photographer, she would work as the in house graphic designer. I grab the photos, she edits,  we sell them. We could make videos. I would write and shoot them, she would add artistic flare to them and we could sell that. She could create logos, crafty awesomeness, and we could sell that. The cursor blinks.

So what I have been doing is researching the laws about selling photography of firefighters doing their job. The conclusion is with a release I can do it. I spoke with a few firefighters that I have photographed and low and behold, I can now sell some of my best photography.

The next few weeks you will start to see things from me on various social media platforms asking for your help. Help is getting this jump started. I take photos that some people see as niche. I don't subscribe to that school of thought. I take photos that tell the same story as a landscape of Paris, except my story usually involves something burning.

So as this little cursor blinks on the screen, out of it comes something amazing and I hope to have your support both here in my personal endeavors and over at Fire Photographer Magazine, as it is recognized as the best place to see fire photography on the interwebs.


Thursday, September 6, 2012

Stolen

This post originally was posted in Fire Photographer Magazine but I wanted to share it here as well. Thank you for all your support as always. You are the best. 


Cleveland, Ohio |9-4-2012 | 2240 hours

I just tore my best friend’s car apart looking for one of three missing bags. Minutes ago as we dropped off a fellow blogger and friend at her office in Downtown, she got out to discover her missing bag. Astonished, I got out checking the back of the car, which is the hatch of a Dodge Magnum. As I looked I notice two of my bags were missing. Not where I left them. Missing. Gone. Taken.

How did I get here? What the heck happened?

I am reliving this day in my head over and over again. I was up and out the door by 0615. I met with the PIO of the Cleveland Department of Safety and we car pooled to the Justice Center where I parked and locked my car. Over the shoulders was a blue and orange backpack filled with emergency munchies, change of clothes including my Fire Photography T-Shirt, a Cleveland Browns hat, and my car keys. Over my shoulder was my black shoulder camera bag. In that bag was a Nikon D3100, 2 fully charged batteries, battery charger, two class 10 memory cards (8GB & 16GB), 3 lenses (VR 18-55mm & VR 55-200MM & screw tight Macro Fisheye combo lens, two standard light filters, and the mount for my Tri-Pod.

I was prepared. We met up with the Commander of Navy week which has just concluded in Cleveland. The last frigate, the USS DeWert, was set to steam from Cleveland to Detroit for the next week. Erica, the PIO, Danielle Fink from Channel 3, and me representing Fire Photography Magazine were going to on the ship the whole way. I was tasked to take pictures and video to document the entire day. From cast off to docking in Detroit and everything in between; this was the chance of a lifetime and to do it in conjunction with Cleveland’s Safety Department and Fire Photography Magazine was something I felt very proud to be doing.

To give you a sense of what this magazine does; I disembarked the USS DeWert in Detroit and there was an Engine sitting on the dock waiting for the tanker to fill water barricades. Of course I snapped a few photos of the rig and the guys on it, and introduced myself only by my name and asked me who I wanted to ride with tonight. They told me they liked my work in the magazine and to keep up the good work. Fire departments read my work? People I don’t know like what we are doing? This just solidifies my mission and my decision to do the kind of work I do. To shoot the stuff I shoot. We tell stories that matter to the boots on the ground. To have their support was amazing.

With my two bags over my shoulder, my best friend was there with his car to take the three of us back to Cleveland, but first we were hungry, in need of a beer or two, so we asked a local for a recommendation. They recommended Slow’s BBQ, and it did not disappoint. Half-way into the restaurant we were joking about the crime in Detroit and that we should probably bring stuff in, but we laughed as we hate it when people say that about Cleveland and we sat down. The decision to not go back for my camera will haunt me forever.

We finished dinner and headed to Cleveland. As we pulled into Channel 3’s parking lot, is when we noticed it. Danille’s bag was gone, my camera bag with everything in it including the 800+ photos on the ship and on the dock was with it, and my backpack was gone. Erica’s iPad and bags were left untouched. There were no visible signs of a break in and we just stood there, astonished. We are now just another statistic on Detroit’s crime reputation.

But I stood there, blank, numb, and with anger so red I could feel it pulsing in my toes. Erica called the restaurant and our friends at the Cleveland Police Department. They opened their doors to help start the investigation and pass whatever they had to Detroit, so they can start looking too, that is if someone hasn’t murdered someone that day. They dusted Pat’s car for prints, got a few good ones and they took my prints and the prints of everyone in the car to eliminate prints on the outside of the car.

Their generosity is something I truly appreciate and the people of Cleveland need to appreciate. They help, they will help, and they want to help. I often work with the fire department, and seeing a side of the Police Department no one sees because they can’t unless something bad has happened, is something I will never forget. They picked through everything for any shred of anything we can get.

I might never see my camera again. I will never see the photos I shot on the ship, but the memories and kind hearts of everyone I encountered is more than enough not to give up on the human race.
To all that have helped get the word out about my camera, thank you. I can’t thank you enough for the support. That camera was my livelihood since losing my job in early May. My family has been nothing but supportive, and what is life without your family? My friends who have stepped up, watching the baby while wife was at work and I was on the ship, and then was kind enough to drive us home from Detroit. Last but not least, everyone at the city of Cleveland. Their support in my mission to capture and tell their stories is nothing short of amazing.

To all who have got the story out; Thank you. Really thank you a million times.

An anonymous donor has come forward and offered to help me get a new camera. I am still in tears over this kindness, and I will let you know once I am back on my feet again and shooting fires. 

Monday, September 3, 2012