I had not seen this image for some time and it is surprising the emotion that it envokes even with the passing of many years. One thing that I notice about it is the size of the plane in comparison with the building. The plane looks almost like a toy which makes the destruction that happened hard to believe.

It could be seen symbolically as the insignificant group of radicals going after the stolid giant of America represented by a towering building. I doubt the photographer had time to think about that, but the image could be read in this symbolic way.

Looking at the picture with hindsight, I see the end of an era- the end of innocence and the feeling of impenetrability which had covered America for decades. Probably not since the McCarthy era did Americans have their civil liberties quashed as they did after 9/11. The government began to spy on citizens in order to prevent this atrocity from ever happening again. Security quadrupled and now old people have to remove their orthopaedic shoes before going through metal detectors when they want to fly. People have their name on 'no fly lists' sometimes in error.

The airline delays and inconveniences are just one example of consequences of the 9/11 attack. The United States got retribution on the attackers by starting a war on Iraq--you'd have to ask the President for his rationale on choosing Iraq rather than attacking where the terrorists came from, but that is a whole 'nother political discussion.

If we could follow the trickle down effects of the war we'd probably ultimately find a child in a rural school built by railroad tracks which shakes when the trains rumble past. The government has found other uses for our tax money than to provide proper education for the children who are the future of the country.

The image shows a tiny plane about to impact a towering building, but the story is much more than the image shows. It doesn't show the long term effects and it doesn't show the near term effects of families losing their loved ones, or the personal decision that some had to make--to stay in the building and burn to death or to jump. It doesn't show the final phone messages that were left when people in the building knew their death was imminent and wanted to leave final words for their loved ones. It doesn't show the effects on people left behind or the effects on the firefighters and other rescue personnel who saw the destruction close up.

The hate and desperation behind the acts is something that is not supposed to be felt here in America. We are the land of the free and the home of the brave. We take the poor and hungry to live on our streets paved with gold. We are supposed to be immune from terrorist acts which happen in other parts of the world almost as a matter of course. I think the affront woke us up and I am sorry to be awake. I liked America when we lived in innocence. . . and some would say ignorance.

Picture

I chose this picture of the dead soldier by Mathew Brady because it is striking how death equalizes us all. This is a young man who should have his whole life ahead of him, instead he is a body on the field. He does not appear wounded. If it was not for the uncomfortable position he is in he might be asleep.
I looked Mathew Brady up on the internet and found that he was notorious for taking credit for others' photographic work AND for moving bodies into a position which might have greater viewer impact. He would also place props in the picture for more impact. I believe that he sometimes would pose a Confederate soldier with Union weapons. I was told to look closely at the canteens that are with the soldier. The one in his bag is of one type and the one on the ground is a totally different shape. Perhaps that is an example of mixed props.
The image made me stop and think how short and violent life can be and I suppose the impact is the purpose of Brady's posing his subjects. I don't think that it can be called documentary photography if he posed his subjects with props for more effect. You could call it portrait photography. Documentary photography is supposed to tell some truth, part of the truth told in Brady's images is manufactured for maximum benefit rather than the reality of the situation as he came upon it.
My husband, who was a photojournalist, and I had a discussion about the posing of the subjects and whether if they were posed it was TRUE documentation. In my opinion if you are documenting the aging process (for example) and you photograph a person over a number of years in the same pose you are documenting THEIR aging process (granted not the aging process in general). But Brady's image is completely manufactured as the soldier has no input into whether he wanted to be photographed in this bunker or where he lay originally. I'd be interested to get feedback about the idea whether posed subjects can be documentary work or whether the image has to be spontaneously captured to be truly documentary.

Project ideas

I did my blackboard post on lack of female leaders in the Catholic Church. I feel strongly about that issue only becuase of its inherent unfairness. I do not attend Catholic Church or any other for that matter so it does not personally affect me. If they had female priests I doubt very much I would return. There is so much corruption in the history of the church that I find it difficult to be a supporter.

The other issue that I am really interested in is how disability affects one's identity. This is an unresearched thought, but it seems to me men have a more difficult time adjusting to disability, even aging, than women do. That may be a stereotype that I have bought into, but it seems like men bemoan the diminishing of their former strenght. Maybe women never used their physical strength as much so the loss of it is less jarring. So given that my father who is 76 and my husband who is 53 both mention the things that they 'USED to be able to do with ease and now it's so much harder' I can't imagine that men who suffer a physical disability through accident or war would not have a hard time reconfiguring their identity in light of their gender.

The other issue I am interested is female poverty. I think there are statistics which back up that there are more females in poverty than there are men in poverty. Many times women are single mothers and have the added responsibility of providing for their children.

Those are my ideas. I am happy for any feedback on any or all of them.

My House

I LOVE my house. It is old and run down and I absolutely LOVE IT! My husband and I bought it almost 5 years ago. It had cracked plaster walls and red shag rug throughout. There was a place on the living room ceiling that had been patched once because there must have been a terrible flood from upstairs.
We bought it and I started cleaning it because that is what I do. I started on the stove. there were YEARS of grease stored in that stove. I got it all clean--finally-- and noticed that the plug was sparking when water hit it. Why? A rat had eaten through the insulation on the wire--I was tempting death by electrocution!
My husband said, "We'll patch the cracks and paint it and it'll be beautiful." I started picking at the walls till they came tumbling down. Let me tell you that plaster is HEAVY. One garbage can full at a time, out it went. Then there were none. . no walls no ceilings. . no red shag carpet.
When you strip off the top layer there can be beauty and opportunity behind. We have beautiful heart pine floors and new electrical wiring and new plumbing. Some rooms have walls and ceilings now. We have a beautiful kitchen and built in bookcases in the family room (all thanks to my wonderful talented husband), but there are some rooms that still have potential, but no drywall.
I LOVE my house. I love the squeaky floors and the fact that there are no 90 degree corners. And I love my husband for doing all the work he does without getting overwhelmed by the immensity of the job (like I do sometimes).

Image

READ and you will LEARN. You just click the icon to post a picture. Who'da known!!

Reflections on an image

I tried many times to get a picture from my computer onto this page. I tried to copy and paste, but it would not paste. Let me describe it to you. It is a picture of my husband and myself when we were getting married in Belize a little over 3 years ago. The ceremony was held on a gazebo that was at the end of a long dock. I don't remember the name of the body of water but you can see the water in the background and the shore in the distance. I am wearing a dress with large red flowers on it that I had bought, not for this purpose, when I went in to have new tires put on my car at JC Penny at Virginia Center Commons. I had some time to kil so wandered through the mall and found this beautiful dress for $19.95. Can't beat that for the cost of a wedding dress. Rob, my husband is wearing khaki shorts and a blue shirt with some kind of crazy decoration on it. Neither of us is wearing shoes (although you can't see that in the picture.)
The thing that is striking about the picture is the fact that we both look so sad. I haven't looked at these pictures in a while and when I conjured the image in my head during class I did not see the sad expressions.
I can speak for myself and hopefully for Rob as well that we were NOT sad at all. We were trying not to cry (me less sucessfully than he) but not from sadness. Rather from the sheer joy of finally being with the person that completes us. I had been married for many years in a tumultous relationship and had decided when my first husband died that I would NEVER put myself in THAT situation again. But then I met Rob and knew that there were some good people in the world and I was one of the lucky ones.
So the interesting thing about the image is that it tells a story, but maybe not the one you might make up for yourself if you see it without knowing the history behind the characters portrayed.

This was an interesting assignment. It prompted me to think about the reality of versus the impression conveyed by an image.

Difference

Everyone is different. We are different genders, different 'races' (whatever that means), different sizes, different shapes, have different abilities and interests. We come from different places in the world so we have different cultures, religions, beliefs. Some of us know alot and some of don't know so much. There are many waysw that we are different and most of us notice the differences right away. Not only do we notice the differences, but we make value judgements about the differences. "He's fat." or "Her hair looks better than mine." "He is much better than that than I am."

Buddhist talk about 'accepting the differences.' Maybe we continue to notice them, but we eliminate the judgement part. That's a grand goal and one I aspire to, but one which I haven't achieved yet. . . "She did though. . . I wish I was as open minded as HER!"

We talked the other day about WHY difference is important. The class mostly decided that we separate ourselves from others and notice differences because we want to be noticed for who we are as individuals. We want to 'stand out from the crowd' to show how special we are, but at the same time we have a need to fit in. The need to fit in may have roots in biology. Animals have to live in groups because each individual can't do everything needed for survival. We need to surround ourselves with others for protection and support, both physical and emotional.

We surround ourselves with people like us. People with like experiences who will understand our point of view and the things we say without a lot of explanation. Think about cliques. Oreven the groups that form in a large crowd. Members of the groupd will look superficially alike. Within the large group there may be smaller groups or people more deeply alike. . . Like concentric circles. And even within those groups each person strives to maintain his/her individuality.

First time blogging

I have never blogged before!! For many of you that may sound quaint, even ridiculous. But for me the idea of expressing my ideas on the internet for the world to see is outrageous and a bit intimidating. I'm not a member of Facebook because I am not sure people need to know that much about me. But college opens up all kinds of opportunities and provides for new experiences so this is one of them. So. . . I'm a blogger. . . and a female. . . and a student. . . and a wife. . and a daughter. . and a mother. . . and a friend. . . This class is called Documentary Studies: Gender and Identity so I've given you some identifing characteristics about myself. It'll be interesting to see what changes as the semester goes on.