4:07pm

Venice Beach

The pier

This is a photograph I did not take. There are nine light poles each separated with enough space between them so that there is no overlap. Along the right hand side are three boats, one speed boat that has a small trail of waves behind it, and two sail boats that are moving in the same direction. In the foreground, on the right hand side, are two men fishing. One has a full head of hair the other is completely bald by choice. They seem to know each other because there is a comfort between them that seems like more than mere acknowledgment of each other. Both rest their left hand on the left cheek and stare at their fishing poles. The waves continue to rolls past their fishing lines without recognizing the lures. Further down the pier other clusters of people fish and in the middle ground two seagulls fight over a hamburger roll.

3rd day in LA

Is it that obvious that I'm from the east coast?

I've been in LA for about 48 hours now and there are something about me that are apparently east coast traits. I'm impatient and bouncing, jiggling, or moving your leg, hand and/or foot makes you seem impatient. I constantly want something to do and I move pretty quickly. Now this is odd for me because at home I walk the slowest out of my friends and family but out here I could join a speed walking team and easily become their best athlete. The way I talk I guess lets people know I'm from the east coast. When I get excited about something I talked faster and louder and tend to use my hands. I thought that was just an Italian thing.

Los Angeleans are an interesting type of people, they never seem rushed and generally don't rush others. For example I was hell bent on spending exact change at a grocery store, I wanted to use ever last penny, so I ended up counting out sixteen cents. Not once to the cashier get huffy with me, it was wild. The wildest part about was that I was still trying to counting the change out fast.

Anyway, I'm not sure if I'll ever be full acclamiated to the west coast but here are some photos from Big Sur.

“No man should go through life without once experiencing healthy, even bored solitude in the wilderness, finding himself depending solely on himself and thereby learning his true and hidden strength.”-Jack Kerouac

Tallyho!

It's been awhile since so here's a quick re-cap of the end of my trip, got to spend a day and a half with my grandparents in Utah and then traveled to California and basically traveled the length of the state. Somewhere between San Fransisco and Los Angeles the weather, people, and my nerves changed. Luckily two nights in Big Sur helped eased the transition.

In San Francisco I got to listen to a band that complied the accordion, violin, upright bass, drums and the bass guitar and realized that people in the west coast are very mellow, no one speeds. ever. or uses their directionals either, both irritated me to no end. I also found it interesting that once we crossed into California there was a stop on highway 15 where we were asked if we had fresh fruit or animals in the car. Do you suddenly have to go through customs to enter California? Apparently.

Also the moment we got into Illnois, there were all kinds of green energy suppliers. Windmills and solar panels were speckled across the landscape which was nice to see. However the west and midwest seem to make-up for their green efforts by dumping abandoned cars along the roads.

Thousands of feet above sea level

We made it to Colorado. Fourteen hours later, five rain storms, and fifteen construction delays later. Nebraska may be my new favorite state on the account that the speed limit was 75 mph and the scenery was beautifully flat. The closer I got to Colorado the more the sky darkened and then the rains came.

Our first day we made it to Chicago and I got to take a trip down memory lane and visit my old home. My very small 1930's bungaloo style home. Many things were still the same and many things were different fortunately the woman who currently lives there didn't get to freak out by a complete stranger asking to walk through her home.

Tomorrow I'm hoping to make it to St. George, Utah where my paternal grandparents live. Here's hoping I can get adjusted to the mountain times zone!

You're not home til you're fighting with you siblings

Typical evening in the Lohmiller household. Wine and walking through the yard preceded dinner which was til about 7:30pm. The whole time mockery was sprinkled within the conversation and as usual rival occurred. The problem is that my younger siblings are growing up. Actually they're out growing me.

Half way there

My things are getting close to being packed and and my laundry is almost done. I've finished my 11 weeks of work at the Erie Times News and now I'm preparing for a move west. Very west. Los Angeles in fact. I've never been to California which makes this exciting and terrifying all at the same time. I will be working for Lauren Greenfield for the next three months which is complete 360 from the newspaper. I'm hoping that I learn more about a different aspect to photojournalism and see really great work.

Here's what I've learned from working at a newspaper:
1.) Never assume anything, even if you think the person is the mayor ask anyway.
2.) Even if it's sunny outside, use a flash
3.) Don't think that just because you're working for a newspaper that you'll never have to do a portrait or studio work
4.) Keep your cell phone on you at all times, you never know when your editor or someone from the newspaper will need to contact you
5.) Go the extra distance when you have the time, if you're given an hour to photograph a book use that full hour to try something different. Your editor will see the extra effort and like the variety.
6.) Talk to the other photographers, they'll have good insight to approaching assignments and have good stories to tell
7.) You will mess up and it's ok because that assignment was a one time thing once it's done, it's over and you have to move on to the next thing.

I understand why it's called hard news

I got into to around 8:15 am Monday morning and checked my work email, added paper to the printer, and looked to see what my assignments were. I didn't have much to do other than cover a press conference by the police chief. Well when I got to city hall with the other photographer we saw a news station videographer standing by the side door. Big Mike was waiting for Aaron Noyer to be walked out by police. I had been gone for the week and didn't know why there was a secret perp walk. Noyer was the lead suspect in a child abduction. Rob, the other photographer then found out that the press conference was about the missing two year old girl.

I missed the press conference. So I shot two cops being sworn in a was able to get an interview with the police chief. They found the little girl too late. She was taken from her room, sexual assaulted, and then strangled to death. I then had to shoot video of this story. It was a very hard day. I had to go to the site where the found the body and then to the little girls house.

If shooting was difficult, the editing of the video was. I understand why this is called hard news. There's nothing about this story that is easy. There's nothing about these types of stories that will ever be easy. Now as I sit in the office listening to the police scanner through the left ear, my right ear can hear the reporters and editors having a pow-wow discussing where this story is going. The plot continues to thicken with this story, it's too bad that this won't be the last time something like this appears on the news.

Tobacco juice and the all american game

About a week ago I had to photograph the Erie SeaWolves, the minor league baseball team. This meant I dragged around a lens that was heavy enough to kill a person, hung out in the dugout, and tried to follow a game that I know nothing about.

Knowing what I do about baseball, which is absolutely nothing, I basically switched from dugout to dugout and would switch from fan watching to sport watching. I now understand why sports photographers study the games with religious fervor, there are many nuances you can miss when you don't understand how the sport is played.

Another thing about the game I never realized was how much spitting occurs. Seriously. At any point during the five innings that I was there, I could find someone spitting. Whether they were on the field, in the dugout, waiting to bat; someone is spitting, like Men's Warehouse I guarantee it. And this spit is not the usually saliva mixture, nope it's a wonderful concotion of saliva, gatorade, and chewing tobacco. There was no tip-toe through the tulips but rather try not to step in spit.

Planes, Trains, and Highways

I've put many miles on my car and have hit almost every gas station from albany to erie along i90. this weekend however i spent along the beach of ontario lake and plotting the second part of internship filled 6 months.

here's some photos from a pit stop, the beach, and my vacation bible school project.