JV.

Take a deep breath, close your eyes. © Ryan Schierling

Turn around, relax. © Ryan Schierling

John Vanderslice.

JV @ Mohawk - Austin, Texas. © Ryan Schierling

Storied.

 

Photographer Jonathan Saunders, w/ ice cream sandwich outside One Bridgepoint. Austin, Texas. © Ryan Schierling

I'll agree there could have possibly been ice cream sandwiches before or during Saunders photographing Bernie Madoff. I cannot comment on the after. I just don't know.

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.

At One Bridgepoint, though, the ice cream sandwiches were delicious. 

Here's to your health.

Many thanks to Anne, Michele and HCB Health for such a fabulous time Sunday night at their SXSW Interactive fête.  © Ryan Schierling

Flying the freak flag.

Texas, hippie, via iPhone. © Ryan Schierling

Franklin Barbecue.

Aaron Franklin of Franklin Barbecue. © Ryan Schierling

I went for the fast-becoming legendary barbecue. I came back for portraits. Thank you Aaron, Stacy, John and John for everything. 

(L-R) John, John, Stacy and Aaron. © Ryan Schierling

Out with the old.

Film. © Ryan Schierling

Are we still supposed to be chasing the American Dream? What is the American Dream? I think 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 that the American Dream? To have better stuff than everyone else?


I don't care about that stuff anymore, so I guess I better start looking for a new dream.


2011, I'm starting with you.

Inca.

Burial. © Ryan Schierling

We watched this one die. 


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. 

Finding the inbetweens is the most difficult thing.

© Ryan Schierling

Above it.

© Ryan Schierling