November 16, 2010

"Do I Hear Five?"


“You need to get to the auction at least a half an hour before it starts. The real experts sort through the junk early, separating the good from the bad and figuring out what’s valuable.”


I listened intently over the hood of my grandfathers Dodge van as we chipped at the frost on the windshield. Before I had a chance to finish scraping the passenger side, my grandfather, Bill, jumped into the driver’s seat and urged me to let the defroster handle the rest. Sensing the unbridled excitement in his voice, I obliged.



Each weekend, Bill wakes early and heads to estate sales in the heart of the Wisconsin farmland in search of antique tools and toys. After a career selling electronic switches in Milwaukee, Bill retired to a farm near Adell, Wisconsin and started raising sheep. Tired of the long hours associated with raising fifty sheep a year, he looked elsewhere for entertainment.



Acting on a life-long interest in tools and attempting to clear out his garage for his next project, Bill started selling off some tools on Ebay. Enjoying the craft of researching the history and application of antique tools, Bill started buying tools at garage sales and auctions. Since September of 2002, he has sold over 1800 antiques on Ebay.



Driving an hour north as the sun rose, Bill explained, “Your Grandmother comes sometimes just to people watch. There will be a few hundred people filtering through today. People come to bid on farm equipment, silverware, guns and others for tools,” he grinned.

“What’s the auction today?”
“The description says estate auction: farm equipment, guns, cheese-making and a pick up. You can’t go into an auction wanting something specific. You won’t find it,” Bill explained.
Grinning ear to ear, I nodded.

Arriving early, we registered with the auction service and went out searching through piles of farm equipment. Surgically, Bill sifted through the various piles and boxes making frequent introductions to other such addicts.

“He is in it for the oil cans.” Bill motioned.
Oil cans?”
“Yeah, oil cans. He collects vintage oil cans to go along with his cars,” Bill explained as he turned over a box full of Stanley planes.

Nursing my coffee, I went out in search of gems. Shivering in my wool while inspecting a wall full of shovels, pitchforks and saws, I heard the familiar pop of an aluminum can. Turning expecting to see a diet Coke or perhaps a Mountain Dew, I spotted a group of camo-clad Wisconsinites starting off their Saturday with a case of Busch Light.

With a smile, the ring leader nudged the opened case with his foot, “Want one? these things (auctions) usually last a while.”

“I am good, thanks. Trying to get through this coffee first.” I looked at my watch, 9:17.


For the next five hours, these guys stood guard centrally located between the food cart, auctioneer’s booth and port-a-potty. Providing a running commentary, they chimed in their two cents often as I passed by.

“Whatcha got there?
“What’d ya pay?”
“What the hell do you need that for?”



Good things.

As the last item sold, we packed up the Van with the day’s bounty, bid farewell to the observers and headed back to the farm.


Looking back from the drivers seat, Bill smiled. “We did good today. That was one of the best auctions I have been to in a while. Now we just need to figure out what the hell we bought.”
With no point of reference, but ecstatic from my day spent haggling and searching for gems, I nodded in approval.
Here are some more links,
Five and Go (Picasa),
Snow Fulliers (Picasa).

November 9, 2010

From Dawn Till Dusk


I reclined my seat and started to doze as the plane taxied through the fog and rain of Lagurdia International Airport. Like a five year old falsifying a snore in the back seat of the car to get carried into bed by their parents, I disguising my disregard for FAA regulations with an apparent catatonic slumber. Giving up on my returning my seat to its upright position and removing my headphones, the flight attendent moved on. Sliding into a much needed nap, I woke with a jolt some hour and half later as the pilot announced over the PA our initial approach to the Milwaukee area.


Grabbing my backpack from the over head bin, I stutter stepped and spin moved around the stragglers in the ile, eager to end my travels. Leaving my offices on Madison Av some four hours earlier, the cold midwestern air greeted my exposed skin as I waited for the familiar sight of my grandfather’s van. Within a few minutes we were heading north on 57 towards my grandfathers 97 acre farm near Adel Wisconsin.


After an hour chat with my grandfather on our way north and a pleasant reunion with my grandmother as soon as we walked through the door, I headed towards the guest room. Before sunrise the next morning, I rolled out of bed. Greeted by the subtle smell of the wood stove in the next room, I dressed and headed towards the backdoor with my camera in hand.

These photos document my first day spent exploring my grandfather’s farm and shop, from dawn till dusk.

Ten miles to the east, the morning’s sun reflected off the water of Lake Michigan, creating one of the most beautiful sunrises I have seen.


The back of my Grandfather’s Dodge Ram.


Local Suffolks grassing in the cold November morning

All of the license plates my 76 year old grandfather has ever owned.

The inside of his barn.


After a stint raising sheep post retirement, my Grandfather now enjoys his time hunting for antique tools, cleaning and researching them, and subsequently selling the cream on eBay. Check out his Ebay Store.


Red.


A brisk November Sunset.


I shot all of these photos with a Zeiss 35mm F2.0.


Tire tracks compressed by the mornings frost, leaving lasting marks in the recently cut grass.

As the sun sank towards the east, I returned to the very stairs where I started my day, some ten hours earlier. Curiously anticipating the next days estate auction, I found comfort in the periodic dashes to the woodpile and the biting cold of Wisconsin’s november night. Tired from the days exploring, I put up a meek fight against extending my evening, and was in bed before 10.
Here are some more links
Snow Flurries (Picasa),
Follow me on Twitter.

November 3, 2010

Early in the Morning and Late in the Evening


As the days shorten, the shadows come later and leave earlier. This fall, I have made a point to take photos early in the morning and late in the evening.


Connected by this common thread, these photos were shot with my 5D mark II and a canon 50mm f1.4 lens in the last two months.


Washougal, Washington, September.


Studio 26, September.



Western Pennsylvania, October.


Chelsea Market, October.


Best Made Studio Space, Tribeca, October.

Washougal, Washington, September.


Upper West Side, October.


Best Made Studio Space, Tribeca, October.


Washougal, Washington, September.
Sometimes pictures convey more than words. I love when the shadows are long and the light warm.

Here are some more links,

Fall Colors (Picasa),

Grass Fed (Picasa),

Atom (Picasa),

Forts (Picasa).

October 26, 2010

Changing Seasons: Fall in New York


LL Bean buck over Colby’s campus in fall 2008, a few weeks after starting A Restless Transplants and buying my first camera.

An over ambitious sip of Joe’s coffee scalded my tongue. Sucking and blowing repeatedly in attempt to ventilate my mouth, my breath hung on the cool mornings air as I sat on a rock outcropping in Central Park. Rising over Midtown, the morning’s light cast long shadows over the lake and through the autumn foliage.

Canvas Sneaker over Colby’s Quad in January of 2009.

As June quickly slid into September, the reality that I wasn’t returning to Maine for another winter slowly took shape. Each changing shade of foliage and brisk morning helped confirm my permanent acclimation to my new life in New York. Three times in the last few weeks, I packed my REI backpack with my 5D Mark II and lenses and headed towards the rock peninsula near 79th street and Central Park West with the hope of capturing the changing season with a shoe. Despite successfully avoiding joggers, tourists and leashed French bulldogs, my shots failed to turn out.

Common Projects sneaker over Cobly’s Quad in March of 2009.

Last Sunday morning, I woke early and dug through my pile of shoes. Perhaps as homage to my time spent in Maine or their relevance in the frequent mud puddles familiar with fall in New York, I grabbed my eight-inch Bean boot and headed towards door.

Van’s Authentic over Colby’s Quad in August of 2009

Ralph Lauren Wingtip over Colby’s quad in October of 2009

The morning’s light bounced the buildings of the Upper West Side as I grabbed a cup of coffee at Joe’s and headed towards Central Park’s lake intent on waiting for the sun to rise above the buildings of midtown. Patiently, I sat facing south towards Manhattan’s skyline. Periodically testing my coffee, I tuned out tourists’ conversations and turned an occasional glance at a group of forty-somethings performing a lost east Asian ritual associated with Subarus and merino wool socks.

Danner Mountain Light II over Colby’s quad in December of 2009.

Checking my watch, I realized that fifteen minutes had marched past and I reclaimed my camera from my drawstring backpack. I removed my left Bean boot, set the frame and tossed my shoe in the air.

British Walker Buck over Colby’s Quad in April of 2010.

Taking a sip of my now tepid coffee, I picked the boot off the exposed bedrock and tossed it up in the air for another countless shot. Reflecting off the glassy water, the morning’s light warmed the chain-link sole as I fired the shutter near the height of the boots arc. Looking down at the preview screen, I couldn’t help but smile. I like calling a new place home.

Here are some more links,
Changing Seasons (Picasa),
Changing Seasons (ART).