muse | no muse

I am transitioning back to the insanely early start to my day this week. Though 5:00a doesn't really strike me as insanely early, it seems to horrify most people I know. However, one of the upsides to starting early for me is a bit of time to handle things requiring attention while I've still got the gumption to cope with them. To that end, I scanned a stack of mounted photos from my basic photography (Fall 2003).

The photograph as art is an idea that has been stuck in my head occupying spare cycles since midterm. To be clear, I am not considering whether or not photography is art. When one takes photographs there is process with the exposure of the film, then its developing and finally with printing from one's negatives. These prints then become the piece of art. I was amused to learn that photographers then photograph their photographs using slide film for submission to galleries, competition, etc. I'm not certain why this idea has taken up residence in my head, but it may have to do with what is an original object and what is a copy. What is real, and what is a shadow. I think I'm a bit fascinated by the idea that the documentation of the art is the same process as the art but is not actually art. I am sure that the idea will continue to coalesce. All of this thought regarding original and copy becomes a bit moot as the world moves inexorably towards digitizing all aspects of our lives, but the secret luddite part of me holds onto the hope that the value of an object made with care and craft will continue to have a home not completely tied to network.

Inconsequential blathering aside, I'm pretty happy with the results of these three series.

Basic Photography: Interior/Exterior Series

Basic Photography: Nat Portrait Series

Basic Photography: Process/Narrative Series

Enjoy.

Posted by jack hattaway at 9:01 AM | Permalink

Having a baby is somewhat like graduating high school or completing basic training in the military. Hundreds of thousands, millions, billions of people have done it before us and the same number plus will be doing it long after I've been laid to rest and forgotten. It is one of those things about which a big deal gets made when there does not seem (to me) to be a big deal to begin.

The first thing we needed to decide was whether or not we were going to tell anyone.

One of Nat's compelling reasons for not delaying children any longer was to have children while they could still know her mother, LaRayne. Nat came along twelve years after her closest sibling and I'm continually surprised when I'm reminded LaRayne has entered her seventies -- she neither looks nor acts like seventy anything to me. If it were possible to tell LaRayne and then to keep it a secret from the rest of the world, I think that I would have had no reservations with Nat telling her mom. As things are, telling LaRayne (or anyone else in her family) is the same as telling everyone in her family.

As I contemplated the potential expansion to our family between the EPT test and the blood work, I became enamored of the idea of having a secret that was Nat's and mine alone. At some point, reality intervenes and prevents you from keeping this type of secret, but I thought it would be fun as long as it lasted. As LaRayne is the only of our parental figures on whom we feel like we can rely, I was torn between telling her and keeping our secret. I finally left it up to Nat, with my marginal preference leaning towards the secret option.

For the present, it is our secret.

Posted by jack hattaway at 6:36 PM | Permalink

This remains a draft entry for the foreseeable time. That said, I'd like to capture some of what I'm thinking and feeling now, rather than recreate it later. Part of the magic behind the scenes here is that I can continue to make these private entries and not unleash them on the universe at large until we choose to air our little secret.

Sunday, December 14th, Number Six was up mid-morning rather than for dinner, as has become our habit. I was eating some lunch, and Justin and I were chatting. As he got ready to head back to his place, Nat disappeared upstairs. I did not think much about it at the time. Justin and I wrapped up our conversation and he headed out to do laundry. Nat reappeared with an object wrapped in a tissue. I was suddenly anxious, nervous, intrigued and repelled simultaneously. On one level, I was very aware of what she was presenting me as I ate my bowl of tomato soup, and I was quite excited that the news must bode well. In a darker place in my head, I was sure that I did not want to have anything to do with the item cloaked in front of me. Certainly not while I was eating.

I should, perhaps, step back for some history here. Nat and I got married in August of 1996. I've been a perennial student and she was still working on her bachelors degree and teaching certificate. I knew that children were part of being married, and we discussed the idea of reproducing on several occasions over the years. As an idea it seemed a fairly good one.

I was pretty sure of a couple of things. First, other people's children were really good -- mostly because they went home. Second, adopting was a great idea. Both of our gene pools leave much to be desired and adoption becomes a win situation all around. If you succeed at raising the adopted child into a productive member of society, it is kudos all around for your fantastic parenting skills. If, however, the child goes south in a hurry, the adoptive parents are left with the option of shrugging and saying, "Hmm. Not our genes." Nat was not keen on this train of thought.

Between our wedding and the present, we've tried our hands at keeping plants alive (marginal success), maintaining salt water aquariums (high success) and finally with raising puppies (sadly, two for three). In my head, we were preparing well for our own 2005 or 2006 model year mini-Nat (or Jack). 2005/6 seemed perfect as Nat finishes her Masters in teaching and I finish my ultra valuable Bachelors of Fine Arts this coming spring, 2004. We would both get done with our final year of currently scheduled education, calculate the optimized time to conceive, get Nat into a "motherly way" and baby would make three about the time Nat got done with school for the summer of 2005. Did I mention this was the plan in my head?

Early this year (2003), Nat strongly indicated that it was time. I disagreed. She decided to nurture a side career as a Corkie Lee sales person. It was a glorious five or ten minutes of distraction for her. Then, the full court press was on me. The recurring dribble was "baby now." Though I openly confess to being slow, I do eventually understand which way the wind blows. To my way of thinking, I was left with two options:

1) Continue to disagree about the timing for the child and be miserable until I broke; or,
2) Hop on board the crazy train, be happy and get busy reproducing, or trying, or... you get the idea.

I went with the crazy train. There was a bit of trying. There was a bit of adjusting. There were a considerable number of questions from me that went, "Are you knocked up?" There was a bit more trying.

Which brings us back to the pregnancy test wrapped up in front of me. I still could not quite bring myself to open it, so I made Nat open it. I'm aware of what it means when a woman (and by "a woman" I certainly mean Nat) with whom I've been sleeping regularly is off her schedule by five or six weeks. And, I was right. Nat went in for blood work to confirm her motherly state. It was confirmed. Surprise! I'm an adult.

Posted by jack hattaway at 4:32 PM | Permalink

I combed through my hard drives and cd back-ups from old systems and came up with a variety of photographs, mixed in a selection of new scans from slides and prints, stirred, sifted, sorted, and wound up with a collection of albums. I'm still working on labels, descriptions and basic design concerns, but that should hardly keep you from poking around. Without further ado:

The Main Gallery

Adventures in the Big Blue Room
An Ongoing View of Things I Make
Studio Construction in the Time Pending Self Sufficiency
The Misadventures of a Hi-Fi Dillettante
Here There Be Beagles
Art School Assignments
Friends and Family Captured in Glorious, Full Color Pixels
The Wonderful World of the University of Utah
Around Utah
Trips, Vacation and Other Frivolity Away From Home
Nat and Jack

Posted by jack hattaway at 4:02 PM | Permalink