Best of 2008 Photography Installment #1

I began looking back through my photographs from 2008. In terms of photography it was a big year for me. I bought a digital SLR, and I truly began to learn much more regarding the technical aspects of photography, and my camera tells me I took over 7400 photographs. It is a confluence of science of art, technical know how, and a compositional eye. I still have much to learn. Some of these photos are placed in this category because I thought they were great photos, some because they have sentimental value, and others because It was the first time I took a good picture using a new technique. I suppose it is hard to really critique your own photos because there is certainly a level of attachment that exists. Here is the first component of the best of 2008.



This is actually me climbing. My cousin, Siamak, took this photograph. I think it is amazing. As my good friend Matt Kerr says, this should be on the cover of climbing magazine IMHO.








I soloed half way up a sketch 5.7 trad route at T wall to get a photo of my friend Kyle on an adjacent route. To my dismay, I could not even see him climb. I felt obligated to take a photo, and this is the product. A nice perspective of T wall.

Photoneering

It seems Danny and I have been trying to get up to the Satellites for weeks, but the weather or other activities seem to stand in our way. We attempted to head up there today, but after eying the amount of snow and lack of sunlight we decided on a Flagstaff session. Who drives 45 minutes for a Flagstaff session?!?? Apparently we do.


Pre Warm Up Warm Up.

Nearly a great picture on the Amphitheatre.

Southwest Arete Face.

A little Scary, but how could I not post the glory of Danny's white stomach?

Danny's side of the story here.

The List

It seems posting the goals of the upcoming year is quite en vogue right now, so I'm jumping on the bandwagon and posting some of my goals. It also forces me to hold myself accountable for the production or lack thereof in the next year with respect to climbing. Here are just a few problems that really stick out in my mind that I would like to tick, and their respective grades.

--v4--
Spewbacca, Flatirons
--v5--
Lobster Claw, Hueco*
Germ Free Adolescence, Eldo
--v7--
The Ineditable, Independence Pass
Doughboy, Carter Lake
Baby Face, Hueco Tanks*
--v8--
Turning Point, Flatirons
Skipper D, RMNP
The Orb, Rocktown*
--v9--
Handicapps, RMNP
--v10--
Tower of Power, Flatirons

--5.7--
The Bastille Crack, Eldo
--5.10--
Rock Wars, RRG*
--5.11--
Purple Toe Nails, Shelf
--5.12--
Sargasso Sea, Dream Canyon
Tell Tale Heart, Boulder Canyon


* If I can make a trip out to said destination

Taming Infinity

Mathematics is the most beautiful, creative art that exists. Unfortunately it is lost on most. This lecture given by Manil Suri doesn't require any formal mathematical training, and if you have an extra hour of time, and interest in the existence of different sizes of infinity I implore you to watch this.

My Great Climbing Debate

In my relatively short career as a climber I have always been able to easily identify my strengths and weaknesses with respect to climbing. Of course as the disparity between my strengths and weaknesses grew, I tended towards my strengths because that is human nature. We enjoy what we are good at simply from the success achieved. As a result I labeled myself a boulderer, bought a membership to the spot, and made gains in contact strength, maximum power, and the mental thought process and problem solving associated with bouldering. I vehemently resisted moving out of this description. It became a part of my identity as a climber, as a person.
Then I moved to the South, and was forced to maneuver out of my bouldering persona because of the weather, but more importantly because of my passion for climbing movement. During the summer months, the sandstone sweat too much and the friction hardly existed for "hard" bouldering to take place. I began learning the art of sport and trad. Oh it was too easy to make excuses why I didn't excel at these disciplines. "I'm a boulderer at heart, I have no endurance!"
Now it is the midst of winter in Colorado. I imagined I would be doing nothing but bouldering this time of year simply for the fact it is miserable climbing and belaying routes in the bitter cold. Lo and Behonld, I have crossed the threshold into a rope wrangler, albeit a bad one....for now. My thoughts are consumed by routes I'm dying to crush, and the process involved. The epiphany which struck me is climbing is climbing, and it is dangerous to limit and label yourself in one discipline of climbing. Perhaps this seems like common sense to most climbers, but Its something I'm just beginning to discover.


Ian's proud onsight of Lats Don't Have Feelings at Shelf.

Said and the case of the mistaken Mullet

I googled a barber shop today in hopes of getting a great haircut after multiple bad experiences from franchise shops such as Great Clips and Fantastic Sams. I was in for quite a surprise. My stylist, a nice older lady who has been cutting hair for the past 3 decades, gave me possibly the best (and worst) haircut I've ever received. She told me she loves to cut hair, and it is her creative outlet. After hearing such enthusiasm and passion I thought I would allow her free reign with my hair. She buttered up the deal by constantly complementing my great hair. I think she was thankful I wasn't bald like most of her clients.
I asked her for something short and easy to maintain. I was in desperate need of taming my rambuncious curls. This was my first haircut since Lasik, so I was a bit ackward with my eye contact. Where are you suppose to look during a haircut anyways? I've always had the blind experience, and never knew such ackwardness at the barber shop before. Regardless, this is the haircut I received:


Business in the front.

Party in the Back.

Being an unemployed, poor student I can not afford a second haircut, so I shall rock the mullet, perhaps indefinitely.

Back To Basics

Went to Cherry Creek Reservoir for the magic hour today. It was cold. I was reminded of the following poem. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by: Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of the easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

Werd Birds.

I wanted to go out on the ice, but got scared.