Taken: June 16, 2010
Location: Healdsburg, Ca.
My bridge again. It's actually the railroad bridge that runs parallel to the Healdsburg Memorial Bridge. It's been awhile since I've gone down to shoot it. It's an easy target for me because I see it almost every day but that's why I've been avoiding it lately. Wanted to stretch out some, find other things to shoot. But its call is strong and when I crossed the bridge tonight just around sunset, I had to stop and see what I could get in the fading light.
Today, the bridge was also a little symbolic for me.
Last week, I started a class at the local junior college. It's a beginners' course in photo editing in preparation for my planned immersion into photo and film editing. I've been meaning to to this for a few years now and I'm really glad I finally got started. The whole going back to college thing is more than a little bit strange but it's also kind of good, too. I mean who doesn't like to try something you did once but with all the wisdom and maturity you didn't have the first time around?
I'm embarking on a series of classes that will lead me toward learning how to shoot and edit digital film, which like still photography, I have just enough knowledge about to be dangerous. But I want to be lethal.
I want to direct my own scripts. I want to shoot small films about big ideas, the fire, hope, dread, love, death, craziness that rages inside all of us and how we deal with it and with each other. I realize that covers a lot of ground but these stories have been in my head forever. A lot of it goes into the pages of my novels but my sense is the other stuff needs a different medium. I've always been in love with film, especially the films that tell intimate tales about the line people step across, that changes them from who they are to who they will be, the choices they make, the things they justify, the revelations they have, the loves, the loss, the tragedies, the journey. You know, the bridges they cross.
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