tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57120475315635414132024-03-13T10:17:46.505-05:00Ryan SchierlingRyanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.comBlogger208125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-45176177676741326982012-02-22T21:28:00.003-06:002023-06-20T17:10:17.822-05:00Discount framing.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/arkies_cfs_pair_lowres.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://ryanschierling.com/arkies_cfs_pair_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">CFS & eggs @ Arkie's Grill, Austin, TX, via iPhone. © Ryan Schierling</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><i>"Where have you been, man?"</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">"I don't know. I don't... I don't know. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><i>"All I ever see of you is phone pics of food on Facebook? What's up?"</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">(I push my runny eggs around on the plate, pick up my coffee cup and look down into the blackness.)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">"It's just someone else's art in my frame. Sometimes it's easier to make the frame."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><i>"What?"</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">"Arkie made something beautiful here. And all I did was frame it."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><i>"I'm not even sure Arkie's alive anymore. I think that Mexican line cook 'made' your art."</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">"Yeah. Maybe. Does our waitress sound Norwegian or Swedish... or Finnish to you?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><i>"What?"</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">"Nevermind."</span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-13593319296600675652011-11-15T23:14:00.005-06:002023-06-20T17:11:26.783-05:00Touch me I'm late.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/mudhoney_RYN_0947_lowres.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://ryanschierling.com/mudhoney_RYN_0947_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Mudhoney @ Emo's. © Ryan Schierling</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">I never really had the opportunity to shoot Mudhoney when we lived in Seattle. I was ten years late on the grunge-fest, O.G. <a href="http://www.charlespeterson.net/" target="_blank">Charles Peterson</a>-era, grainy, gritty Sub Pop love-in that spawned <i>so</i> many amazing photographs. I was shooting burgeoning indie-rock and figuratively, I figured I'd rather just let old dogs lie. Anyway, Charles already did those photos far more beautifully than anyone else could, fifty times over.</span><br />
<div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br />
</span></div></div></div><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">But it was always buried in the back of my brain.</span><br />
<div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br />
</span></div></div></div><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">My first experience with Mudhoney was in 1990 as a teen in Emporia, Kansas. My friend Gary had the self-titled Mudhoney cassette, and "Flat Out Fucked" ruptured the speakers in his beat-to-shit black Subaru on our way to school in the mornings. More than 20 years later, he'd never seen them either.</span><br />
<div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br />
</span></div></div></div><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Last year, Gary was willing to fly all of us from Austin to Seattle to see Mudhoney play at The Crocodile, but it just didn't work out. So when I saw tour dates for late 2011 in Austin, I let him know, and I bought tickets.</span><br />
<div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br />
</span></div></div></div><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">The prominent "No Professional Photography without a Photo Pass" signs and big bouncers had me a little flummoxed at first (because I didn't even think to arrange for a photo pass), but a few beers and the realization that no one makes a professional living at live music photography anymore bolstered my spirits. I mean, I did this for a long, long time in Seattle, and if you want to throw me out for pointing a big camera at Mudhoney, then go right ahead – the Tacos El Rey truck is out there, so it's like tossing Brer Rabbit into the briar patch.</span><br />
<div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br />
</span></div></div></div><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Mark Arm and Mudhoney put on an amazing show, and all I can say is... better late than never. </span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-41777367805857677412011-11-09T17:14:00.003-06:002023-06-02T16:12:03.125-05:00What's The Doppelganger?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/wtd_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="529" src="http://ryanschierling.com/wtd_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Andrew Hetherington doppelganger. © Ryan Schierling</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's said that imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. I don't shoot square format or rock the Q-Flash, but for Halloween this year I went as swashbuckling editorial photographer </span><a href="http://www.ahetherington.com/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Andrew Hetherington</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. Don't worry if you're not quite sure who that is. I was convinced that only friends </span><a href="http://www.wmanthony.com/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">William Anthony</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and </span><a href="http://work.iliketotellstories.com/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jonathan Saunders</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> would "get it," and that's pretty much how it came off. But, it's my party and I can be who I want to. Hopefully I did Mr. Hetherington proud.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Go check out his blog </span><a href="http://www.whatsthejackanory.com/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What's The Jackanory?</span></a><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/wtd_2up_pair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="275" src="http://ryanschierling.com/wtd_2up_pair.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Schierling as Hetherington. © Ryan Schierling</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-15671310724013760222011-08-15T22:07:00.001-05:002023-06-02T16:12:17.050-05:00Idle hands.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/bre_mike_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="258" src="http://ryanschierling.com/bre_mike_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(L) Bre. (R) Mike. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You will learn half of what you need to know of a person by watching what they give and take with their hands. The other half, you may never truly know.</span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-22242194419060637322011-06-27T21:28:00.014-05:002023-06-02T16:12:24.092-05:00Walls of goddamned noise and sound.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/ryan_IMG_1464_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="http://ryanschierling.com/ryan_IMG_1464_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I-35 N. © Ryan Schierling</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I looked at the black rubber marks on the Jersey barriers. I looked at them for miles, and wondered how many drivers' days had been ruined by a drift off, a drift over, a hard jolt and the high-pitched squeal of horizontally-moving rubber and metal grinding across stationary-vertical concrete, and then you're on your side with your eyes wide and drifting, searching. It's the over-correction that gets you every time.</span><br />
<div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You take off, on the road, on your own. There's always a reason for flight. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/IMG_1432_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="http://ryanschierling.com/IMG_1432_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Flyovers. © Ryan Schierling</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I stopped in West, Texas for a couple kolaches and a Dr. Pepper, and took a vanity photo of my MPG reading on the display. 259,173 miles on the odometer, and the old Saab still gets nearly 40 miles-per-gallon on the highway. It's the only proud moment I've had in a while, and why I scrub my fingernails at the end of most days. Most people don't own cars anymore. Banks own cars, and the people that drive them only know how to put fuel in them and curse at them when they're not doing what they're supposed to do. I believe in taking care of the things that take care of you, and my dad still has that old blue Pontiac Ventura, so I imagine I got a little of that from him.<br />
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/ryan_IMG_1440_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="http://ryanschierling.com/ryan_IMG_1440_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">259,173 miles. 37.9 mpg. © Ryan Schierling</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was 100-degrees when I left. After West, the temperature dropped 20 degrees in 20 miles, and I knew there was some shit blowing in.</span><br />
<div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was driving north to visit my parents, to visit my father who was diagnosed with aggressive lymphoma and undergoing radiation therapy and chemotherapy, in the year after he had retired.</span><br />
<div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You're not supposed to go through this, after working your entire life and doing the right things, making the right decisions.</span><br />
<div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's a three hour drive, and I have time to think about all the different kinds of cancer. The random, abnormal cells our body kills off every day without incident or circumstance, and the ones that just happen to stick somewhere, take up residence and open storefronts. I'm going 100 mph. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="font-family: Times;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div></div><div style="font-family: Times;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/ryan_IMG_1452_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="http://ryanschierling.com/ryan_IMG_1452_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Incoming. © Ryan Schierling</td></tr>
</tbody></table></span><br />
<div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's getting dark. There is lightening on three sides of me, and the rain is beating down on the windshield. I slow the car, and I turn up the stereo to drown everything out.</span></div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div><div style="font-family: Times;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div></div><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Everyone has those times when the night’s so long /</i></span></div></div><i>The dead-end life just drags you down /</i><br />
<i>You lean back under the microphone /</i><br />
<i>and turn your demons into walls of goddamned noise and sound</i><br />
<div><br />
</div></div></span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-30189050143850792182011-05-26T12:45:00.004-05:002023-06-02T16:12:32.516-05:00JV.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/jv_front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://ryanschierling.com/jv_front.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Take a deep breath, close your eyes. © Ryan Schierling</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/jv_back.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://ryanschierling.com/jv_back.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Turn around, relax. © Ryan Schierling</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-49264994741809498762011-05-25T12:33:00.010-05:002023-06-02T16:12:37.889-05:00John Vanderslice.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/jv_RYN_8310_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://ryanschierling.com/jv_RYN_8310_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">JV @ Mohawk - Austin, Texas. © Ryan Schierling</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-42834023888213227702011-03-24T21:08:00.012-05:002023-06-02T16:12:48.138-05:00Storied.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"> <a href="http://ryanschierling.com/js_icecream_IMG_1330_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="525" src="http://ryanschierling.com/js_icecream_IMG_1330_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Photographer </span><a href="http://work.iliketotellstories.com/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Jonathan Saunders</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">, w/ ice cream sandwich outside One Bridgepoint. Austin, Texas. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></div></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll agree there could have possibly been ice cream sandwiches before or during <a href="http://www.iliketotellstories.com/" target="_blank">Saunders</a> photographing <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/23/business/media/23madoff.html" target="_blank">Bernie Madoff</a>. I cannot comment on the after. I just don't know.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As for the Saunders story of a Madoff-commissioned portrait, made by Yousuf Karsh in 1988, penultimately hung over the bed of Madoff's secretary "so he could keep an eye on her," ultimately hung in the collection of a plastic surgeon specializing in the aquisition of scandalous portraiture and willing to barter for said secretary's elective surgeries to the tune of six figures... you'll have to ask elsewhere. I have no knowledge of the subject other than hearsay.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At One Bridgepoint, though, the ice cream sandwiches were delicious. </span></div>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-62349397926505695672011-03-14T21:22:00.010-05:002023-06-02T16:13:19.787-05:00Here's to your health.<div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/hcb_montage_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="http://ryanschierling.com/hcb_montage_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/hcb_pair_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="139" src="http://ryanschierling.com/hcb_pair_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many thanks to Anne, Michele and <a href="http://www.hcbhealth.com/" target="_blank">HCB Health</a> for such a fabulous time Sunday night at their <a href="http://sxsw.com/interactive" target="_blank">SXSW Interactive</a> fête. © Ryan Schierling</span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-21676869118443528712011-02-20T19:41:00.002-06:002023-06-02T16:14:37.299-05:00Flying the freak flag.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/texas_hippie_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://ryanschierling.com/texas_hippie_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Texas, hippie, via iPhone. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-6785599746895356192011-01-11T21:04:00.001-06:002023-06-02T16:15:05.193-05:00Franklin Barbecue.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/franklin_aaron_pair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="291" src="http://ryanschierling.com/franklin_aaron_pair.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Aaron Franklin of Franklin Barbecue. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went for the <a href="http://foiegrashotdog.blogspot.com/2010/12/franklin-barbecue.html" target="_blank">fast-becoming legendary barbecue</a>. I came back for portraits. Thank you Aaron, Stacy, John and John for everything. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/franklin_trailer_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://ryanschierling.com/franklin_trailer_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(L-R) John, John, Stacy and Aaron. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-20138847103743588632010-12-31T20:24:00.002-06:002023-06-02T16:15:25.158-05:00Out with the old.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/woody_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://ryanschierling.com/woody_lowres.jpg" width="394" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Film. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Are we still supposed to be chasing the American Dream? What </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">is</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> the American Dream? I </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">think</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> it used to be a solid job that afforded you a house in the suburbs with a chest freezer full of food in the garage, a station wagon with wood panels on the sides, a loving wife and kids to fill all the seats and a golden retriever in the back. It's a worn-out frame, here, shot 365 days ago on black-and-white 127-format film made in Croatia for a Japanese twin-lens camera that was rolled out in 1958 and obsolete by '62. I was walking on the outskirts of our neighborhood looking over fences and peering into windows to see who had better stuff than me. Isn't </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> the American Dream? To have better stuff than everyone else?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't care about that stuff anymore, so I guess I better start looking for a new dream.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2011, I'm starting with you.</span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-45649300947625699582010-12-14T21:42:00.003-06:002023-06-02T16:16:18.512-05:00Inca.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/dove_RYN_6062_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="274" src="http://ryanschierling.com/dove_RYN_6062_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Burial. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We watched this one die. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I heard a 'thud' on the back deck's glass door and the cats woke up, perked up. I lowered and shook my head – goddamnit, not again. It lay on its side with an eye up, wide open, searching. The feathers on the back of this Inca dove, near the base of the tail began to lift in a slow convulsion. The eye was still open, taking in the last of things, and we both knew it. It hurt me to watch, so I quickly turned around and went out the front door, looking up at the trees and the blue sky and then finally down at the hard December dirt, knowing I'd be digging another hole in the yard soon. </span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-68068262837416385542010-12-05T17:18:00.002-06:002023-06-02T16:13:05.216-05:00Finding the inbetweens is the most difficult thing.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/cold_warm_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://ryanschierling.com/cold_warm_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">© Ryan Schierling</span></div>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-24401833987875692282010-12-01T17:35:00.001-06:002023-06-02T16:14:38.221-05:00Above it.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/skyballroom_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://ryanschierling.com/skyballroom_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">© Ryan Schierling</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-14318727622457803722010-10-20T21:00:00.001-05:002023-06-02T16:13:24.519-05:00Flight vs. float.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/looking_down_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://ryanschierling.com/looking_down_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Two bridges, looking down. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-5876902973255906872010-10-12T21:08:00.006-05:002023-06-02T16:13:36.028-05:00Different types of stillness.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/birdstrike_RYN_4975_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="274" src="http://ryanschierling.com/birdstrike_RYN_4975_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Bird strike on the kitchen window. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/dove_RYN_4887_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="274" src="http://ryanschierling.com/dove_RYN_4887_lowres.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Dead white-winged dove on the back porch. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A bird hit our kitchen window weeks ago. It left an imprint of what I can only assume to be avian body oils, as moisture would have evaporated leaving little trace of the impact. There was no carcass, just a faint aura left of a sudden flailing in-flight moment for this anonymous bird. I have not cleaned this window, this image made weeks before I photographed it. </span></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tonight, I came home to find a white-winged dove, quiet and still on the back deck, a few feet from the sliding glass door. </span></div></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I buried it under the old avocado tree.</span></div></div>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-70360401852275003952010-09-28T20:29:00.014-05:002023-06-02T16:13:45.552-05:00Breathing dirt and pine and fresh mountain air.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/rs_dr_IMG_0443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://ryanschierling.com/rs_dr_IMG_0443.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Doctor office for hand/forearm contusion, via iPhone. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://ryanschierling.com/failure_IMG_0003_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="http://ryanschierling.com/failure_IMG_0003_lowres.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Failure. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I woke up early this morning to the sound of our neighbors pulling into their driveway. Our bedroom windows were open because the weather had cooled off so gloriously, with no humidity and temperatures in the low 60s. </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">(Should we talk about the weather?)</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> I rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was 2:30 a.m. I heard two car doors slam, and a single sentence spoken in a male voice:</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">"Just put the weed in the center of my desk so the dogs don't get it."</span></span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I fell asleep again, and dreamed in restless fits. I felt as though someone had a remote control for the stories going on in my head, and they were changing channels every five seconds to look for something more interesting. </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">(Boring, boring... BORING (In Rik Mayall's voice). There's nothing on. There's got to be something on.)</span></span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Stop.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">There was a bus with no available seats departing a mountain top, en route a </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">carnivale macabre</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> mid-mountain. I opted to run, parkour style </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">(l'art du déplacement)</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> down the mass to get to the show. I was jumping and falling and soaring and grasping and swinging, in a body that felt 20 years younger. I was breathing dirt and pine and fresh mountain air and my dream-state self almost convinced my real self that I could do this when I was awake, but my real self knows better. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I arrived to an amphitheater built into the mountainside. The bus had unloaded and its occupants had seated themselves for this mad circus. I walked through the hundreds of freaks gathering on the dirt floor of the amphitheater and made my way up the sloped seating to the middle, where there was a doorway-sized hole flat in the ground with black flowers and blood-red silk draperies framing it. No one was looking at the amphitheater floor – not the patrons, not the performers – they were looking at this hole, this portal to something that seemed to be more important than the carnival itself. I was there, but do not remember sitting or standing. I just remember watching.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">A woman with black hair and pale skin began to rise out of the hole. She had no clothes that I could see, but I only noticed her upper body coming up out of the dark hollow. She was lying back, nearly parallel with the horizontal hole. There was a rift in the center of her chest, and as she rose, a hand and forearm began to push its way up through that rift. The crowd gasped. She opened her mouth as if to cry out and the hand and forearm began to shrink back into her chest, ultimately returning again through her silent, wide open lips as she reached her peak. Children and mothers were sobbing. Men cringed and turned away. She slowly descended back into the pit. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I remember blackness, and then sitting alone on the bus. </span></span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-1088283801723680202010-09-19T23:08:00.004-05:002023-06-02T16:15:21.249-05:00Nobody move, or the mandolin gets it.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ryanschierling.com/mick_mandolin.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 588px;" src="http://ryanschierling.com/mick_mandolin.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">Mick Chegwidden, the most talented stringed-instrument player I've ever known. © Ryan Schierling</span></div></span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-36968247081723790292010-09-15T20:44:00.002-05:002023-06-02T16:45:40.119-05:00The art of controversy.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ryanschierling.com/naked_hitler_IMG_0055.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="http://ryanschierling.com/naked_hitler_IMG_0055.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">The controversy of art. Junk shop on South Congress. © Ryan Schierling</span></div></span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-42520022072686295912010-09-05T11:20:00.001-05:002023-06-02T16:14:16.557-05:00TGICFS.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ryanschierling.com/trudys_WEE_2010_09_05_660.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://ryanschierling.com/trudys_WEE_2010_09_05_660.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">All of my favorite food groups are brown and white. Trudy's - Austin, Texas. © Ryan Schierling</span></div></span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-87577809218788249992010-08-15T15:27:00.002-05:002023-06-02T16:14:21.930-05:00Over easy like Sunday morning.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ryanschierling.com/jims_IMG_0373_cfs_lowres.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://ryanschierling.com/jims_IMG_0373_cfs_lowres.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">All of my favorite food groups are brown and white. Jim's Restaurant - Austin, Texas. © Ryan Schierling</span></div></span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-28590985131584540102010-08-10T16:34:00.001-05:002023-06-02T16:14:29.219-05:0021 years and 627 miles.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ryanschierling.com/gary_pair_lowres.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://ryanschierling.com/gary_pair_lowres.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(L) Gary, 1989. Emporia, Kansas. (R) Gary, 2010. Austin, Texas. © Ryan Schierling</span></span></div></span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-61333978956381979042010-08-01T20:18:00.002-05:002023-06-02T16:15:02.640-05:00Forgotten holes, abandoned goals.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ryanschierling.com/putt_single_lowres.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 274px;" src="http://ryanschierling.com/putt_single_lowres.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">I squeezed in a quick 18 before lunch today. Putt Putt, Burnet Rd. (Click for larger image.) © Ryan Schierling</span></div></span><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ryanschierling.com/putt_double_lowres.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 139px;" src="http://ryanschierling.com/putt_double_lowres.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">(Click for larger image.) © Ryan Schierling</span></div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ryanschierling.com/putt_15up_lowres.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 452px;" src="http://ryanschierling.com/putt_15up_lowres.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">(Click for larger image.) © Ryan Schierling</span></div></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>"Thank you for your interest in becoming a Putt-Putt franchisee. As you probably know, children and adults have been playing Putt-Putt miniature golf for over 50 years and the Putt-Putt brand has some of the highest name recognition of any family entertainment business in the world.<br /><br />If you think you want to open a franchise, we strongly encourage you to read all of the information that we have provided to help you understand the commitment and requirements that are necessary to be successful. Once you have read the information provided, click on the Application Process t</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>ab and follow the steps outlined.</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>Financial requirements for an Individual Franchisee or Franchise Group:</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>1. For a 36-hole golf only franchise, net worth of at least $1,000,000 with $200,000 cash to invest in the business.</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>2. For a golf and game room franchise (requires building of at least 3,500 square feet), net worth of at least $2,000,000 with $300,000 cash to invest in the business.</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>3. For a multi-attraction family entertainment center with golf, games, party areas and at least two other attractions, net worth of at least $3,000,000 with $500,000 to invest in the business."</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5712047531563541413.post-53900790121167410502010-07-25T14:43:00.003-05:002023-06-02T16:15:09.331-05:00On the road - New Braunfels, Texas.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ryanschierling.com/cfs_newbraunfels_IMG_0300_lowres.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://ryanschierling.com/cfs_newbraunfels_IMG_0300_lowres.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">All of my favorite food groups are brown and white. Union Street Station. © Ryan Schierling</span></div></span>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07391749137311792860noreply@blogger.com0