Sun and Snow


Shooting new products and uploading them to the web is one of my responsibilities at work. Mostly I shoot with strobes in the studio, but last week it was sunny and warm out and some rather large outdoor umbrellas needed new images. So we took advantage of the beautiful weather and shot on location at a park in River North. It was a nice change to be working out of the office even for a little.

Flash forward a few days and Chicago was hit with it’s first real snowfall of the year- not bad considering it’s January. It didn’t seem bad from my office in the loop but by the time I got home to Lakeview it was a winter wonderland.


The Refrigerator Project

Not counting college dorm rooms, I have lived in at total of six different apartments in the last nine years. Now, mix being a bit of a pack rat with a undergrad degree in photography, I have carried around the same boxes of unexposed paper, plastic and aluminum film canisters, binders of contact sheets, and the same unopened rolls of film for almost a decade (unfortunately this is just a portion of my collection). Since we just purchased and moved into a condo and have a little guy on the way, I figured it was time to address this situation. Enter: The Refrigerator Project!


I’ve decided to have some fun while being productive and see if any of these rolls of film that I’ve been dragging from fridge produce drawer to drawer are any good. The problem with this film is that a) it’s film. Remember film? It’s awesome; the tones and colors are rich, you get to break out all the old cameras and oh yea, you have to yikes, get it processed. This can be a bit of an adventure in itself (like seeking out an open and semi-affordable photo lab on your lunch hour), but I can’t just throw all the film away! That would be like emulsion murder, and then what was the point in dragging it along with me all these years? Another problem with this old, at times wet, expired film is that b) you can’t use it for an actual job because it’s completely unreliable. Sure, I could shoot some great stuff with it, but the risk is too high that it might be completely ruined and in turn, ruin an important portrait session for example. So, it’s experimentation time. I won’t spend too much time shooting each roll but in the process I’d still like to make some cool stuff, and blog about it as I go.

First up? A simple 120 roll of Fuji NPS 160 color negative film. I know, a little boring but it’s been a while since I pulled out the 645 and I was on vacation in Charlevoix when I shot it so I didn’t want it to be a complete bust. Here’s a look at part of the roll scanned with the verticals rotated and the classic Murdick’s fudge shop enlarged at the top left:

Yes it was a color roll but that’s the beauty of mixing film with digital, thanks photoshop! The roll in it’s entirety:

Stay tuned for the next installment from the fridge.


For some insane reason I offered up the platform of my blog to my husband so he could share his trials and tribulations during last weekend’s Dave Matthews Caravan Concert. So for the first time EVER in history, I present:

Too Old for Dave?
by Jamie “Punky” Buhr

About 5 minutes into the shuttle ride I couldn’t get the voice of Gob Bluth out of my head. “I’ve made a huge mistake”.


The 45 minute trip on the Red Line had been trying enough, but now I find myself sandwiched on a shuttle bus between 2 girls who appear to be on the verge of a full fledged brawl. My guess is they can’t be older than 18 and their fight seems to stem from whether or not one paid the other for their alcohol. According to the more indignant one the fact that HER older brother “bought the case of bud light and Bacardi Limon” is an even bigger slap in the face. Things escalate and before I know it they are grabbing and shoving and for a brief moment I forget I’m jammed on a bus and start to enjoy myself. The cluster of intoxicated guys they are with finally take notice and intervene. “We’ve been waiting for this night our entire lives!” the drunkest of the group reminds everyone.

They separate the two girls and the accused freeloader retreats to the back of the shuttle, too embarrassed to make eye contact with anyone. Meanwhile I’m still brimming with questions. “Are they best friends who simply haven’t become used to each others drunken personalities yet?” “Are they rivals going after the same guy?” “Will they be hugging and making up by the time “Satellite” rolls around?” Sadly I know these questions will never be answered. But the good news is the shuttle has finally arrived at the venue.

As Abbie and I begin to wander the grounds I can’t help but wonder why anyone would ever pick this place for a concert venue. I thought I heard someone say it used to be a steel mill and it certainly has the charm of a place that used to be a steel mill. We make our way to the main stage and trip over the first of many small boulders we will encounter throughout the night. We find Abbie’s friends who have carved out an area close to the stage with several blankets. As I sip my beer and watch Ray Lamontagne begin his set I think to myself “this is pretty awesome”. I have never seen him live before and am enjoying myself thoroughly. Maybe it was the right call to get a last second ticket…

The very talented Ray Lamontagne
The very talented Ray Lamontagne

“Dave’s gonna start any minute!” someone shrieks from the area just in front of the long row of port-a-potties. These words seem to kick the bathroom lines into a tense overdrive. We have successfully executed a bathroom/food/beer run after Ray Lamontagne finished but it seems like time is running out. I find Abbie and we walk as quickly as you can walk while holding 2 full beers. As soon as we begin making our way back into the area we had left our friends and blankets I immediately have a bad feeling. I can make out roughly where we had set up shop but the big difference now is there are about 30 rows of tightly packed rabid Dave Matthews fans standing in our way. “Come on, we gotta keep moving” I hear Abbie shout as the crowd’s noise level rises in anticipation.

The next 10 minutes are more or less a blur. It becomes clear to me pretty quickly that most of the people who had enjoyed their luxurious blankets and picnics during Ray Lamontagne have quickly lost the majority of their real estate. And they are not happy. It starts with a few glares and eye rolls. Those don’t concern me because they mainly came from mild mannered couples in their late 20’s or early 30’s. But the closer we inch towards our blanket (and Abbie’s purse) the younger and drunker the crowd becomes. And those eye rolls quickly turn to verbal jabs.

“What the eff dude!”
“Yeah, just walk on through!”
“She’s GOTTA get closer to see DAVE”

A quick side note to women out there. When you’re leading your husband or boyfriend by the hand through a crowd of highly intoxicated concertgoers who either just had their blankets trampled or think you’re trying to cut everyone to get closer to the stage, where do you think the brunt of the vitriol is going to fall? Here’s a hint: not the woman.

In Abbie’s mind we were justified making our way back to our blanket (if it even still existed) but it’s not like I could explain to every single person we bumped on our way “hey I swear we were sitting up there less than 30 minutes ago, you gotta believe me!”. No, there is no time for explanations in this scenario and even if there were it is too effing loud to hear them anyway. To these people I was simply the gutless asshole letting his woman lead him to get a better view of Dave. Finally I had enough.

“Abbie if you take another step I’m going to join the angry mob and turn on you”.
“But what about…”
“But nothing. We’re almost to the tanktop guy section, and there’s no way I’m venturing into their territory”

She finally seems to accept the fact that we weren’t getting back to our area that had been so perfectly reserved a mere half an hour ago. I do a quick recon glance behind us and am met by 20 or so eyeballs of pure disdain. To make it worse we are now standing right in front of a couple who are still sitting defiantly in their lawn chairs. The only thing missing is a giant spotlight on us.

All I can think to myself is “please start playing, please start playing, make everyone happy”. Each minute feels like an hour. I don’t dare look back again. I think I feel someone kick half a cup of beer at my legs. To add insult to injury a beach ball is batted back to me not once but twice. The first time I quickly swat it away the way you would a mosquito. The second time it comes from the side and awkwardly lands on my shoulder. I feel hundreds of eyes burn into my back as again I try to get that damn beach ball away from me as quickly as possible. I don’t think I’ve ever got the beach ball when I’ve actually wanted to bat it. But the one time I want to blend in, NEED to blend in the thing basically latches onto me like Velcro. In a vain attempt at redemption I do my best to make it appear that I’m lecturing and scolding Abbie about the foolishness of our endeavor and try to say things like “I don’t know where our blanket is!” and “we’ll just have to find your purse later!” as loudly as possible in hopes to win some sympathy from the jury behind us.

After what feels like 2 days, the music finally starts and the crowd erupts. I instantly feel the spotlight start to fade and I even give a half hearted fist pump. Still we are jammed in tight and the couple behind us is still defiantly sitting in their lawn chairs. It’s so tight that one misstep or bump could easily send me sprawling on top of them. As the set begins I try to enjoy myself as much as possible but it’s futile. I don’t know if it’s the lady in the lawn chair tapping her foot to the beat of the music and hitting my calf in the process. Or the fact that everyone around us seems to know every single word and I can’t even come up with the name of the last two songs. Or it could be the overly excited high school kids high fiving and saying things like “strong start!” and “2 for 2!”.

The author during happier times
The author during happier times

The moment it finally hit me what was really bothering me was between the 4th and 5th song where I let my mind start to wander and suddenly this thought crept into my head “I totally forgot that Ann Coulter is going to be on Bill Maher tonight, that should be great”. Holy shit. I am way too old to be this close to the stage. Way too old to be packed in with the diehards and kids who are drunk off liquor bought for them by older brothers or fake IDs. Way too old to be amongst the fans that recognize each song after the first chord. I finally have some clarity. I don’t belong here anymore. At least not this close.

I turn to Abbie and shout into her ear “You want to move back?!”. She gives me a look that says “I thought you’d never ask” and I love her for it. As we make our escape the insults fly in similar fashion to when we made our reckless trek toward the stage:

“Bathroom already!?”
“Yo, the show just STARTED bro”
“See ya loser!”

Only this time I don’t care because I know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. After a few minutes of weaving the crowd finally gets lighter and I feel the anxiety melt away. The further we walk the more it makes sense. Now we are among the people who STILL are on blankets and even playing Frisbee. Look there’s someone dancing with some glow sticks! I nod knowingly to myself. Yup. This is where we should have been sitting the entire time. Sure we don’t have the best view but who do we think we are? 19? No, no, no. I’m 29ish. I’m a little disappointed it took me this long to figure it out. Even during Ray Lamontagne we had out kicked our coverage in closeness to the stage. I didn’t know it at that moment in time but I was about to get a hard lesson in outdoor concerts.

You see there are many types of fans and you just have to know what your lane is and stay in it. If you studied the people from closest proximity to the stage to furthest it would probably look something like this.

1) The diehards who will find a spot by the stage 5 hours before the show begins and not move. They’ll pee in a diaper before they risk losing their spot.
2) The meatheads (usually shirtless or in tank tops) who don’t necessarily know the words to the songs or even the names of them. But they are big enough to get as close as they want because no one’s really going to say shit.
3) The fans in their late 20’s or early 30’s that in their Dave Matthews heyday knew all the words and have fond memories of their late teens and early 20’s at a venue much like this one. More than likely their blanket has been trampled and they mutter amongst themselves how many “punk Dave fans” there are these days.
4) The people who get it. They don’t care how close they are as long as they can hear the music and at least see the two giant screens. Their blankets have not been trampled and they seem to be enjoying the hell out of themselves. Some are playing Frisbee. Some are pulling bottles of wine from their picnic baskets. Some even seem to be on some pretty awesome drugs. This is where I belonged.

As we finish the second half of the concert comfortably from our new found spot I keep glancing to the area we watched the first 5 songs from and can’t help but laugh. Now it looks like you’d have to helicopter in to have any chance to get back to Abbie’s purse. Luckily her friends saved the day and grabbed it before it was passed around by people looking for money or pot.

Now we could both relax and enjoy the music. I feel better knowing I will walk away from this experience a little savvier and wiser. I vow my next concert will either involve an assigned seat or an 8 by 8 area that will never be compromised by stampedes. Even if that means the parking lot. And as if the concert gods finally decided to throw me a bone I was able to recognize the next 3 songs and even kind of sing along to them. And thanks to the power of DVR “Real Time” will be waiting for me when I got home. I wonder if Ann Coulter’s trip into the Lions Den had worked out any better than mine…

John & Allison

Hello everyone after a very long break from blogging! I’m blaming the absence on my first Chicago winter, as well as a busy second semester of grad school. Summer is finally here, school is out, and I dug my hybrid out of the laundry room- I am feeling good! Ok, back to business. I was honored to shoot my bff Jenna’s brothers wedding in the awesome town of Memphis last month.



It was a wonderful affair on a warm summer evening filled with lots of heartfelt speeches and dancing. Here’s a few highlights for now- congrats John, Ali and little Jenna, and thanks for letting me be part of your special day!

Ali about to throw her bouquet
Ali about to throw her bouquet
The two Jenna's- adorable!
The two Jenna’s- adorable!

The Holidays


We went back to Ann Arbor for Thanksgiving last week and were welcomed with this beautiful display of lights. Though it wasn’t quite as impressive as the annual display back in Brooklyn, I couldn’t leave without taking a few shots (thanks 5D for the excellent high ISO settings).

With the holidays now here and the end of the semester creeping up, it’s going to be a crazy few weeks, but I’m going to try and start posting more. I’ve also still helping with my Mom’s blog Ninth and Olive, so please check that out periodically for some great cooking, gardening and other fun things. Usually we try and do a big monster blog when we get together, with lots of photos and recipes, so look for that soon since we will be going down to Florida this month.

Spoonflower Fabric Contest

If you haven’t heard of the site Spoonflower yet you are missing out. It’s a website that allows designers (or anyone), to upload their own fabric designs then buy or sell them as real fabric. It was founded “by two Internet geeks who had crafty wives but who knew nothing about textiles”. But in the mean time, please take a second to vote for my friend Samarra in this weeks special Celebrity Fabric Design Smackdown (this is a thumbnail of her design here, so when you go to vote remember it’s the one with the purple background and teardrop shapes). It’s one vote per person and only one vote per IP address will be counted, so please pass along so she can win! While you are there check out her other designs. There is a theme for each weekly contest and she’s put together an amazing group of designs so far. Now I just need to get my hands on a sewing machine!


This isn’t exactly a post about photos but it’s somewhat related and I wanted to share it. Last weekend I went to the Renegade Craft Fair in Wicker Park and there was all kind of inspiring stuff for sale or just to look at. Silkscreen, lots of letterpress, pottery, fiber arts, jewelry and photography just to name a few. I also had a minor Etsy celebrity sighting as well. Maryink, an adorable couple who run their own silk screen studio in Nashville, was there selling their amazing t-shirts (and a few other things), and I recognized them from one of Etsy’s wonderful “Handmade Portrait” videos on their site. Basically it’s a short video profiling different artists that sell on Etsy. Long story short, I chatted them up a bit and bought one of their shirts for a bday present. Please check out their video above, and when you have a few spare moments there are tons of other great ones in the video section on Etsy’s blog page. A running friend back in Brooklyn actually produces a bunch of them and I think she has about the coolest job on the planet.

Tuesday Morning

This is the first September 11th that I’m not living in New York. It’s pretty hard to believe it’s been almost ten years since that day. It was the beginning of my sophomore year at SVA and I was living in the dorms right on 23rd st and Lexington Ave. After waking up oddly early for my noon class a little after 9am, turned on NY1 like I did everyday, saw what was happening and stuck my head out my window to look downtown. Sure enough what I saw on the screen was right before my eyes a few miles downtown. Moments later Jenna came to my door and we spent the next hour glued to the tv in her room and going up to the roof to get a better view. After the first one fell, we were all pretty much in shock since it had never occurred to us that that would be the outcome. I remember wondering how they were going to repair them, but never that they were going to fall. The rest of the day everyone in the city walked around like zombies, and school was canceled the rest of the week.

A few snapshots taken during trips in high school-


The following images are some I took the days and the weeks following with my 35mm Minolta and 400 tri-x film (being a photo student I was deep into my black and white film phase). There’s also a few random color ones mixed in. The armory was a block away from our dorm room and became sort of a home-base for family and friends to go and wait to hear some news about their loved ones. Army tanks lined Lexington for weeks. Right afterward you couldn’t go all the way downtown. They had it blocked off from Canal street I think for about a week, and then every few days they’d open up a few more streets little by little. It was so strange how there were no cars anywhere and I just remember the sound of people’s feet walking towards downtown, trying to get some answers and see for themselves (us included), what had happened. There were makeshift memorials set up everywhere, especially at Union Square and Washington Square. People just didn’t want to be alone, stuck inside their apts.


I remember struggling a lot with how much I should have been documenting what was happening. I still think about it sometimes, if I shot too little, but I didn’t want to be exploitative. People everywhere were really hurting and I was lucky enough to not be personally effected by it. Sticking a camera in someone’s face who may have just lost someone was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. Also, sometimes you don’t need to take a million photos, just going through the experience is enough to remember it by.


I know it’s a sad and depressing thing to think about, and not to be dramatic or corny, but we really should always try and remember what happened that day and to not forget it. And not just because it’s the anniversary.

A Busy August

I’ve been having a hectic month filled with traveling, seeing family and friends, and some really great weekends locally and away. Relaxing up north at Becky’s beautiful place on Bear Lake . . .


Visited my Mom in Florida, spent some time with her adorable new dog Riley (aka “Boots”) that she adopted from Animal Haven when she was in New York helping us move. Also helped get her new cooking and lifestyle blog, Ninth and Olive, off the ground which I encourage you to check out!


Completed my first olympic distance triathlon right here in Chicago in 90 degree weather.

The transition station
The transition station at 5am

Am now looking forward to the fall, settling into more of a routine and the temps getting a little more livable!