and then some
December 23rd, 2009

the rising tide. (part 1)

The topic of climate change is not anything new. It’s been around for a while. Well if you consider the brief period of time we’ve been on the planet since the industrial revolution a while. That’s how long it’s taken us to make our defining mark. Yet really in the big scheme of things, in this case the history of the universe, this period of time could be referred to as a ‘blip’. Unfortunately its seems like a blip was all we needed for the biggest brains to make the biggest mistakes.

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Activists at Bank of America headquarters in San Francisco, Nov 09 protesting B of A's funding of companies who participate in mountain top removal coal mining.

In fact not only is climate change not new,  it seems like nowadays, climate change is everywhere. It’s been co-opted by every corporation, every ad agency, all the newspapers are writing about it and plenty of us are talking and blogging about it. All of us are living it. However most of all climate change has been co-opted by our governments who’s inadequate action on the issue threatens stability around the world and unless something is done sounds the death knell (and already has) for thousands of species including our own.

According to popular jargon you’re either a ‘climate denier’, or you’re a ‘climate activist’. Sometimes you’re ‘climate youth’ or ‘Nazi youth’.  It doesn’t matter what label they give you because the outcome for us all will eventually be the same. The only difference being that it will come sooner and harder for some. By some this means the poor. What we tried to achieve in Copenhagen was some semblance of justice and balance. Instead the sorry conclusion reached there, which can only be termed a travesty of justice and a betrayal of citizens by their leaders, left the world to watch while the superpowers offered their blatant lies as pathetic truths.

The effects of climate change aren’t something exclusive to the people facing water shortages in the remote villages of the Himalaya or the citizens of the Solomon islands who will simply see their lives drown in rising waters. It’s not just something happening far way in the Antarctic ice sheet. Right here in California where I currently live we’re into our third year of drought. Here the central valley produces almost 8% of America’s fresh food. However, the valley which is being referred to as California’s dust bowl, is witnessing the complete collapse of whole agricultural communities and lives. The town of Mendota at it’s center has the highest unemployment rate in the state at a staggering 41%.

The cycle of change doesn’t end with the culmination of what was the greatest marketing plan ever that got a president elected to the whitehouse. Nor does it stop when we finish chanting the cleverly catchy slogan ‘Yes We Can’ or pin our pop-art screenprints and stickers of HOPE to our walls and car bumpers. Real change is not an idea that is fashionable and trendy for you to catch on to during a campaign because everyone else is doing it in your neighborhood. It’s not something you consume like the coffee that is your ‘ritual’ every morning. No. It has much more depth than that. The sort of change that is required requires a more active awareness and involvement. Because what has become obvious in our world is that when it comes down to it no rockstar icon will save us. No politician. No religious leader. Only ourselves helping each other.

Here where I live in the SF Bay Area a bastion of liberalism and eco consciousness, there is no shortage of NGOs or environmental advocacy groups that need support and who are all hard at work. These are the people that try and keep the system in balance so that all future generations are left a fair, balanced clean and natural world. In recent weeks I’ve spent time with the Mobilization for Climate Justice West, the West Counties Toxics Coalition, Rainforest Action Network, 350.org, and the Center for Biological Diversity. These groups are currently working on a variety of issues right here in  the Bay Area one of the most important being trying to curb carbon pollution and urge senators to push for acts with legally binding commitments that will do so. Their campaigns aren’t designed by media whiz kids or high profile artists. They don’t state fancy fleeting slogans of high promise and little substance. In the world of activism and climate justice all  must be cold hard fact Fought on meager budgets with no corporation funding and by people who have little to gain personally outside of the common good.

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Activist sticker from the Rainforest Action Network and their campaign against mountain top removal coal mining.

In recent years I’ve been called a ‘hippy’ by some friends, whatever that means. I’ve also been called a ’spoilt capitalist’ by another who later apologized for that one. Most recently I was called an ‘anarchist’ by my liberal uncle a member of Ireland’s Green Party . A hippy loving spoilt capitalist anarchist. I was stumped. I got branded the altogether small minded title of anarchist after I expressed my belief that what needed to happen was a shift towards more community based oil free living as well as some sort of population control as a major step towards balance. So that’s what you think anarchy is?  I’d like to think it’s common sense.  But perhaps it’s just my idea of it. Einstein said : “Common sense is the collection of prejudices acquired by age eighteen.’ If that’s the case I had them. At 15 years old (1988) I along with a few other teenagers raised some cash and had the town’s first bottle and can recycling bank installed. If that’s an anarchist then one was born that day. I spent my time liking school, reading National Geographic, riding my bike, playing basketball and dreaming of a life in the bigger world making visual documentaries. I got riled up a lot by Maggy Thatcher and Rainbow Warriors.  I hadn’t lived in Northern California or read No Logo, yet.

October 19th, 2009

Connemara returned

Connemara from Michelle McCarron on Vimeo.

18 years past and I find myself here once again. Connemara is a place of legends and wild rugged landscape. It is an environment of delicate peat bogs, lakes, stone walls, craggy peaks, sheep, and a sense of peace. There are few places more uniquely Irish than Connemara. In a country that has gone through (and continues to do so) profound social and economic upheavel one can still come here and get a sense of something above the rush of the cities and modern life. Connemara is not just a place it is a feeling. Situated in west County Galway the people there make a clear distinction between this place, themselves and the rest of Galway if not the rest of Ireland. You couldn’t fault them for doing so. It is wild, peaceful, magic and mysterious. But it can also be loud with the sound of wind blowing across it mountain tops, it’s people laughing and traditional music escaping from bars and halls. It is home to Connemara National Park and the Twelve Ben peaks in the Maumturk mountain range where you can hike for days with sheep watching your every move. The Glencoaghan Horseshoe is one of the best hikes I’ve done anywhere and is an Irish classic. Not to mention the Diamond Hill hike which is a great way to get your day started.

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It has forever been a hub for artists and writers for it’s easy to be inspired here. The main town of the area is Clifden and if you’re lucky enough to be in Connemara this week of October you’ll catch Clifden Arts Week where Irish Poet Laureate and Nobel Prize winner Seamus Heaney will be in attendance. Whilst in Clifden I had the pleasure and good ‘craic’ of strolling into the Lavelle Art Gallery where I met owner and himself a talented artist Gavin Lavelle. Gavin is a graduate of the National College of Art and Design in Dublin. We mused over the state of the art world in Ireland and I left laughing with promises to return to continue the conversation.  If you’re one for acommodations that strike at the heart of you and ooze with character I’d highly recommend the Old Monastery Hostel in Letterfrack.  Situated 35 paces from the National Park entrance. If you need to write a book, make decisions, or just be in a hospitable relaxed atmosphere you’d stay here.

This is a special place and a unique one. You won’t find the likes of it anywhere else. And that’s fact. The people who live there know it and when they say goodbye they do so with a cheeky smile because they know chances are you’ll be back. They wave with one hand and with the other they have a tight hold that lasts forever.

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A little techy moment now for all of you geeks. The video is shot with the new 5d Mark II and edited in Final Cut. The mark II presents it’s own challenges when it comes to editing it’s files and getting them into a format where I could edit natively in Final Cut but after much digging round the internet I worked a few things out.

August 25th, 2009

a life outside (the box)

Most people that know me will tell you that I can’t go very long before the urge to leave the city and get to nature becomes over whelming for me. The feeling is kind of like someone has a pillow over my face. I want to get out that bad.

Without trips like these I wouldn’t have become the type of photographer I am today. And certainly not the person I am today. One of the great things about being a photographer is that you can pretty much do it anywhere. So this month I took advantage of modern technology and took my ‘office’ to Tahoe.

I arrived in the afternoon and went to take a run just as the sun was setting on the lake.

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The air smelled of cedar and spruce and the light filtered through the trees.

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The next morning I scoped out a few cafes with wifi where I could work. Full signal and friendly staff are prerequisites when on the road. I spread out at this place several days. I spent so long here they could have charged me rent.

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When the full moon rose above my campsite on the 5th night it lit everything up. I’d test shot it every night and was ready for the final show.

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A few days into it and the storm that was forecast finally came as I was heading to Lovers Leap a favorite climbing spot to go shoot and climb with friends. By the time I arrived in the parking lot the rain was coming down steadily. But Jake my faithful climbing partner wouldn’t dream of letting something like rain dampen his spirits as we stood and drank our wine out of tin cups. All while strolling along the route of the old pony express trail and pondering the 600 ft walls that we would climb for the next few days.

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I love people with a lust for life and a desire to do things that push one outside their comfort zone. Jake is one of those people. From a little town that you might have heard of called Woodstock he has been climbing for probably 25 years. No other person has convinced me more times than anyone else that I can do something on a wall of rock hundreds of feet up in the air when I am steadfast sure I cannot.  When I’m in that place where I can’t figure the move and it looms over me like a giant and I can’t go down, the only way to go being up. Up and over what seems like an utterly impossible move. Times like this Jake has uttered some seriously convincing words.

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But really the only one who can physically get you there is yourself. Which is why when I stand at the top of a climb and I have my feet planted firmly on solid ground again, what I just accomplished makes life’s challenges on the ground seem like small fry.

When you have become so zoned in on nothing but a piece of rock in front of you with your whole body, mind and senses it is has an uncanny ability of making you feel very much alive. Not forgetting to mention the fact that you’re highly aware of your own mortality as the wind whistles in your ears as you balance there. So I take it all in afterwards, thankful for the accomplishment and my safe arrival.

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After hanging out with Jake at the Leap I headed back to west Tahoe to do a hike in the Desolation Wilderness which is right out my ‘backdoor’. I’ve spent many weeks in the Desolations Wilderness over the years and whilst it can be crowded (the most visited wilderness in America) and solitude alludes you sometimes, it is nevertheless beautiful. Miles and miles of trials where if you pick the right one(the PCT) you could go all the way north to Canada or south to Mexico.

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In one day I hiked 14 miles roundtrip up into the wilderness behind my campsite. I made the mistake of leaving camp with the wrong shoes on and by the time I got back I had a raw blister on the sole of each foot about the size of a quarter. How I managed to do this after years of experience I will never know. In hindsight I should have photographed my feet to show you just what kind of  state they were in.  However as I marched along uttering expletives to myself and my own stupidity this was some of the scenery I was greeted with.

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I had reached my half way point at Fontanillis Lake when I bump into a couple arguing in the middle of nowhere with what appeared to be their 12 year old son stuck in the middle of them. The anger and bad energy exchanged during those moments seemed wholly out of context in what I was surrounded by. I felt sorry for her as the tears rolled down her face and her partner stood mute perhaps guilty for making his wife cry.  Love can hurt but it can hurt even more when you’ve lost yourself in it. And she was definitely lost in it.  My thoughts were hey look on the bright side lady, if you’re going to be sad at least you’re looking at this.

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And the only person casting a shadow on my scene was myself.

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You could be forgiven for thinking I was in the pages of a Grimm brothers tale.

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I wasn’t. Just somewhere equally as enchanting. And like a storybook lying on your bedroom floor, you can pick it up, take a look, maybe be inspired enough by the story told within. Or. You can turn around and go to sleep.

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