Coloring Outside the Lines

Found myself pondering the concepts of emotional intelligence, artificial intelligence, creativity and inspiration lately. Heart versus head, mind over muse, and the places where those polarities inevitably intersect.

As a teen, with an evolving but deep appreciation for music holding a formidable presence in my life, I remember wrestling with the dilemma of how to render what I felt - with what I might be able to create. I knew just enough piano to recognize the what happens when too many discordant sounds are strung together, but I was a long way from expressing the depth of what properly arranged notes can have on the human soul.

Decades later, that question has never been resolved.

At 17, I pursued a few lessons, and early on it became clear that I was a student who would need to limit any grand aspirations. My patient instructor (please have a look at my tribute to the incomparable Betty Hansen here) seemed to realize in short order that the circle of fifths might as well be the circle of fiftieths and that a heavy emphasis on music theory would likely have a ‘diminuendo’ effect an already flickering flame.

Less inclined at that age to embrace the work - the mind work - that growing as a musician would have involved, I would inevitably migrate toward the unexpected delights I’d find following my hands across the keys, expressing, even in a minor and imperfect way, an inner voice.

I rarely practiced during the weeks between my 30 minute lessons. The hieroglyphics of the musical score never became second nature, and even if they did, they would never be my notes - my language - only mine to interpret.

Until one day.

At Mrs. Hansen’s urging, a small composition that I had been working was played on her Steinway grand for her - tentatively - and met with an unwarranted standing ovation from the ever-encouraging instructor. Our lesson that day quickly segued from me attempting to play what I had not practiced, to a seasoned musician transcribing this hidden solitary piece, note by note, into a printed score - “Genesis” by John Hart.

I guess I always knew my calling - or at least my talents - resided elsewhere. Still the flame still burns on occasion, and wherever that internal voice resides, part of it is quietly reminding me: “You really should have paid attention to your lessons more.”

Anyways, this all came to mind recently while coming across a pretty novel and surprisingly effective use of artificial intelligence. Sadly, for the world, Betty Hansen is no longer with us, but I began to wonder if it’s possible to have a musical score generated from an audio file. So, for the price of a cup of coffee, I uploaded to a website a two minute piece of music of mine that happened to reside on my phone. Then, seconds later, there it was in all its black and white hieroglyphic grandeur: “Something More” by John Hart.

The melody was nothing more than a fleeting moment of improvisation at the time, an impromptu combination sounds generated by fingers on ivories. Had they had not been recorded, they would never have been heard again. To me, though, the printed representation left me curious, amused. There seemed to be an added value to the audio piece as a result of this new visual confirmation. More accomplished musicians might be able to discern how accurate the transcription is (as I’d still be challenged to read it!), but for now, I’m content to ponder just what resides in that space between the head and the heart, emotion and reason, inspiration and artificial intelligence.

SEEN | 2025 in two parts

Here are a pair of short videos recapping a few favorite visual moments from the past year. The first is a compilation of personal work generated outside my photojournalism career. The second is a sample of my daily editorial work for the Wisconsin State Journal. As usual, a bit of original music accompanies the presentations, if your sound is up.

SEEN | 2024

As the year comes to a close, here again is my annual reflection on the past 12 months. There were some challenging moments - geopolitical tensions taking hold domestically, severe weather and tornadoes upending lives, a contentious and divisive political season and a tragic school shooting There were moments of joy, whimsy and beauty though, too, as always. One highlight.? Maybe climbing to the top of a wind turbine. Anyways, here’s a brief recap of a few memorable moments that happened in front of my camera. Most of the work is from my State Journal assignments, but I’ve also tossed in a few personal images as well. As usual, little original music accompanies the two-minute piece, if you have your sound up.

A Visual Voice - An online presentation

Enjoyed the opportunity to bounce a few words and images off satellites during an online event hosted by PhotoMidwest in Madison, Wisconsin. The presentation offered me a chance to touch on work from both my documentary and art archives and field questions about my process.

2023 - A brief retrospective

Happy to again offer a look back at a few of the moments that caught my eye in the past year. Accompanied by a bit of original music, the images are largely culled from my Wisconsin State Journal work, but I've included a few personal favorites in the mix as well. As always, I'm deeply appreciative of the inspiration I continue to draw from my friends and colleagues in the journalism, photography and arts communities, and grateful for the subjects in the photographs who are open to sharing their time and stories.

Grateful and inspired

As one who’s continually inspired by my photojournalist colleagues, I’m beyond grateful to be included in this group. Do read through the remarks of the other regional winners who were also recognized to get a sense of what drives those in our profession to do what we do.

An Old Soul Navigates a New World

I normally keep my poetry mostly to myself, because, well, most people hate poetry! Still, was prone to some introspection when a recent kayaking outing was put into perspective by a social media posting I came across. Happened to be drifting past a cemetery when my phone teased the news of yet another tragic death of someone I didn’t know.

SEEN | 2022 - A retrospective look at 2022 in images

SEEN | 2022

A look back at the past year and some of the moments that caught my eye. Primarily featuring work produced for the Wisconsin State Journal, a few personal captures are mixed in as well. As in previous renditions, a little original music accompanies the piece if your sound is up. Grateful as always for the opportunity to continue forging this career path and for all those in my life that continue to encourage and inspire.

The Relative Value of Art and Expression

When I was a young man with limited spending money at my disposal, I remember riffling through bins of discounted vinyl albums known as cut-outs - marked by snipped or notched corners - searching for overlooked little gems of music that fell under the radar and out of general circulation for one reason or another. Before the days of digital streaming, one had to rely on instinct and intuition while attempting to discern what might resonate most. Cover art, song titles and musician credits were about all one had to rely while taking a chance on a little known artist or group, hoping to find at least a song or two or three that might justify the purchase and transcend the unrealized expectations of the artists.

I recalled that experience recently when I received a small bank deposit from Amazon for a little book of photographs I released in 2010. Produced on a slight budget and tight schedule, it was a minor homage to a community where I was wrapping up an 18 year photojournalism career at. “Common Ground” sold a few copies at the time, through a local bookstore and online, and was mostly intended as a remembrance of the place that offered me many images over the years.

While checking the title recently through Amazon, I was surprised to see the retailer has discounted the paperback 73% to $4.02. Cutout status! Never did read the fine print of that publishing arrangement, but no matter, it wasn’t really intended as a revenue-generator anyways. Still, the experience harkened back to that time in my life where the bargain bin was a place where small treasures might be found. So, if you ever thought about obtaining copy of the book that’s currently ranked #9,428,165 in Amazon’s catalog - here’s your chance. Or, if you’re looking to save even more, I believe I may still have a box of them in a closet somewhere!

Looking back at 2021 - The Year in Review

Here’s a brief look back at a few of the moments that occurred in front of my camera during 2021. Mostly work produced for the Wisconsin State Journal, with a few personal images included as well.

Hindsight 2020 - Perseverance and then some

Well, what a year.. While considering whether to continue this annual retrospective in images, I initially wasn’t sure if I really had it in me to revisit much of what 2020 threw at us. A pandemic, civil unrest and racial injustice marches, business and school closings, event cancellations and election year marked by discord and acrimony. What I was surprised to find, though, were a whole bunch photographs that found a way to illustrate life enduring despite the steady barrage of challenges. Maybe it was out of habit, maybe it was something more, but at any rate, here’s a surprising collection of mostly life-affirming moments collected during the course of our mutual uphill run.

Finding the Center

In a playground of my youth, I can remember a weathered and worn merry-go-round, elevated slightly above a dirt patch of ground and comprised of rusty steel supports and cracked wooden planks. A little off-kilter and listing sideways from years of use, it was a splinter hazard too, but the rewards outweighed the risks each time we’d visit. The challenge, of course, was to spin each other on its creaky platform, as fast as possible, tempting the forces of physics to beat us at our game. We’d lose on occasion, such as the time when my brother Tom returned home with a mostly-missing tooth and a broken smile. Still, we’d return often for mad summer spins in the park - instantly transforming our world into a blur of color and motion.

What we learned, though, was that when we’d near the point of losing our grasp, there was always a chance to retreat to the center of the twirling carousel, balance and reset. From there, we’d watch composed, as others vainly tested their endurance, competing against the outward pull of forces.

Sometimes, in a world that seems like it’s spinning out of control, there is a tendency to feel pulled toward the margins. A raucous periphery of confusion and uncertainty, with those on opposing sides of the same plane holding tight, wrestling for control. In those moments, it’s good to remember that we all share an axis, a common place of relative stability and calm. It’s available to each of us, if we’re able to just catch our breath and look inward.

Resonance

The image on the left is widely considered to be one of the most viewed photographs of all time. Most will recognize it as the photograph that Microsoft selected for the wallpaper of their Windows XP operating system. For the rights to “Bliss,” the company reportedly paid California photographer Charles O’Rear a six-figure sum. The image on the right is a hill I pass nearly every day near my home. I’ve long-noticed the resemblance, but this time of year, when the grasses emerge and the foreground corn crop is low, the resonance is especially apparent, right down to the delineating line at the base of the slope. I call it “Bliss 2.0,” and will be making zero figures from it. The saturation has been tweaked a bit to approximate the also-retouched original, but the content is unaltered and just the way I saw it recently.

Moments Shared - Looking back at 2019

Continuing a tradition, here’s a brief look back at some of my favorite images from the past year, set to a little original music. Grateful to those who allowed me to share their moments, their stories in 2019. Looking forward to seeing what happens in front of my camera in the coming year.

Seeing, serendipity and the artist experience

A photograph I recently made has started me thinking again about the artist experience, perception, and why and how we create.

The picture, spotted during a rural drive, offers a remarkable juxtaposition of elements. There’s a broken crevice in a fractured road sign that reads ‘Valley,’ and the letter ‘V’ happens to be filled nearly perfectly by the rift. Amazing. 

It makes me wonder about all the other fleeting coincidences we pass every day - sometimes at highway speed - most not. I really think the world is full of wondrous, rare moments, just waiting for our eyes to perceive them. Distractions abound - devices, agendas, obligations. Our routines sometimes quell our discovery.

A little further up the road from the ‘Valley’ sign, I passed another for a Rainbow Road. The conditions were nearly perfect, broken skies, a little sun and a light rain. At least that day, the convergence wasn’t in the cards. But I was aware, and that’s really the first step.

Moments, 2018

Grateful for the chance to explore some new paths this year and share the stories of those I've met along the way. Here's a brief look back at a few of the moments that captured my interest in 2018.

On Finding Inspiration

The creative process can be illusive, unpredictable. Sometimes, though, inspiration may arise from unlikely, unexpected sources.

Most artists I know tend to draw ideas for their own work from a wide variety of places. Painting, music, photography, poetry, literature, dance, sculpture and theater all are fuel for their dynamic, evolving fires. For them, the quest to create is innate, and the wonder of the new is an important component of their muse.

I passed this random arrangement of trash bins recently and immediately sensed a convergence of two of my own personal passions. My interest in music well precedes my chosen career, but it's something I've continued to explore in a quiet, personal way for a long time. The pattern of D, D, A, A, C, B struck a chord, and inpired me to try and make a small composition out of the haphazard collection.

While it's not necessarily the prettiest musical progression in the world, I still felt inclined to spend few moments at the keyboard in an effort to give the temporary assemblage a little life. It's an impromptu, unrefined piece, and one that I may not spend too much more time on, but it does hint at what drives myself, and others, to create - and the interesting, unexpected touchstones that drive the process.

Select play below to hear the composition:

Sharing on Stellar

One of the benefits of working in a visual medium is exploring the continually-evolving landscape of publishing platforms. Came across Steller recently, and was drawn to its intruiging blend of traditional and digital styles. Offering a nice array of still, video and typeface components, I found it pretty easy to put together this little art piece of a few personal nature captures. It was really nothing more than initial test for me, but I was surprised to see it draw over 22k page views in a few days. I'll probably try a few more efforts in the future.

Nature, Considered - Visual Conversations with the Natural World

Images, 2017 - Year in Review

I enjoy each year the chance to review some of my favorite moments, and favorite captures, from the previous 12 months. Always feel lucky to be working in a profession that presents new experiences and new opportunities each day. Backed with a little original music, here's a brief look back at a few of the experiences and images that caught my eye in 2017.

An Ode to an Inspiration

Was reminiscing recently about a battered and worn upright piano that occupied a back corner of our family's garage during my teenage years. It wasn't very pretty - broken ivories, broken keys, broken wood. Still, there were strings - and the potential for music. 

Occasionally, I would wander over to the tired instrument, hoping to coax a melody or two from the heart inside its fading shell. Untrained, I was relegated to simple, original compositions - haphazard improvisations that were largely exercises in avoiding dissonance. 

At seventeen, my parents, maybe sensing a little spark, upgraded the piano and enrolled me in lessons with a woman who lived across town named Betty Hansen. A middle-aged widow, she possessed a sparkling personality and a vast love for music that outsized her petite frame. In her cramped front room resided the Steinway. Around it, stacks and stacks of sheet music - Gershwin, The Beatles, show tunes and folk songs - most of them transcribed in her own hand and signed - "Arranged by Betty M. Hansen"

We progressed slowly, working through primary books, and eventually some of her simple sheets. I was surely one of her least diligent students - though she would never say so. We'd meet for 30 minute sessions every couple of weeks, and there were periods where I might not have played in between. Still, she was patient, always quick to encourage and careful not to criticize. Occasionally, when I'd do something well, she would prop open the top on the grand, offering my tentative hands the chance to fill the room with sound. Her love of music was contagious, and over time, I had learned just enough to carry my interest forward, a gift I appreciate to this day.

Near the end of our time together, when it was becoming clear that music was going to be just an avocation for me, Mrs. Hansen offered to score one of the small pieces I had composed. As I played, she plotted the notes on paper. Her handwriting was elegant, lyrical. When we finished, she added my name next to the title: "Genesis."

I read today that Betty May Hansen died two weeks ago. She was 88 years old. One year for each of the keys on her piano.

When we first met, she had a few octaves yet to play. But midway through her own life's symphony, Betty Hansen struck a more resonant chord than she knew. Because of her, I still play today, decades later. Still can't say I practice much, but I play.. I play.