Bijin Tokei

Leave it to the Japanese to come up with something this obvious, and relatively cool. It’s a website (and an iPhone app) that has 1,440 images of (somewhat) attractive Japanese women holding up a sign that tells you what time it is. One picture for every minute of the day.

Check out Bijin Tokei. It apparently means Hot Girl Clock in Nippon. Many of the girls have their full personal data listed, including measurements and blood type. Odd.

Meet Miss 18.33:

There are so many obvious variations possible to this kind of clock… it becomes kind of fun. Fine Art nudes, pictures of cakes, celebrity mug-shots with that little ID Number…  It’s like a modern day calendar in some ways. Wish Pirrelli would come up with a version of this, I would probably get an iPhone just for that app.

Better yet would be a customizable app into which prolific photographers and other designers could simply insert their own images. It would certainly solve my Valentine’s Day problem of what to get Karen, I would create a clock for her of just ME pictures!! Oh well, jewelry and another Birkin bag, like every year… NOT.

Something borrowed, something new

I have set aside 2010 to determine how I will wrestle with my photography. I have spent the last fifteen years complaining loudly, wishing that I could pursue my art more seriously, but have not had (or made) the time to give it full consideration. This year, with some encouragement from my wife and my father, I am taking a quasi-sabbatical to shoot.

It has been fun, but I must admit I find myself on a roller-coaster ride of self assessment. I am still too nervous to consummate some of the ideas I’m working on. There is the matter of collaborators, whose time I do not wish to waste until my skills are at a level I like… yet how can my skills get there if I’m not shooting what I really want to? Also, I shoot people – models mainly, and I find it daunting to be the one directing the shoot while having the least amount of experience on the set.

There are so many moving parts to this, and within the first few weeks I have already made the decision to go back to a style I know, shooting with available light. I want to get my studio lighting skills up to speed, but I don’t want to stop the creative process in favor of yet another technical aspect that ultimately yields no reward, other than being a tool in my box. I continue to shoot with lights, and am beginning to include them in the creative process, but it is still unnatural and stilted.

Even harder is the realization that I enjoy shooting, but the post-processing is incredibly time consuming. On top of that, a lot of the photographers I admire have a very strong vision, which relies on equal parts photography and image editing. A unique look is often a result of retouching as much as it is the initial capture.

The hardest part may be accepting the delta between the vision and the reality. Imagine having played the trumpet since high-school, and after 25 years you decide to take some time and join your buddies in a little jazz quintet. You’re gonna play at a friend’s bar once a week, and hopefully get booked for the occasional gig. Well, after years of listening to Miles Davis, every note coming out of your horn sounds like a stuck garage door, not an expression of unspeakable cool… All your friends love what you’re playing, but the internal critic – and those who play jazz themselves – see a lot of room for improvement.

Anyway, I know my genre, but I think I’ve been looking at too many masters. I’ve been trying to recreate shots and ideas from photographers whom I admire, but I will need to go my own way soon. I must remember that I am neither the dwarf of my fears, nor the giant of my dreams, and push on. Considering I’m two weeks into my first year, I am pleased with what I’m learning.

I will post a link as soon as I can get a site built. The Western Flatline is playing host to an occasional image, and Flickr is a dumping ground… but it’s better than an unviewed shoe-box full of prints.

Free-running in Berlin

Not a lot to say here. I’ve seen several French videos of Parkour, but it’s nice to see it being done in Berlin. Usually our German kids are really sluggish, but these guys are obviously quite fit. I’d love to be a traceur, but at my age it hurts my knees just watching them.

Cookie Monster

Amidst the whole celebration around the wall falling twenty years ago, people can be forgiven for missing Sesame Street’s fortieth anniversary. I am fully of the Sesame Street generation. In one of my earliest memories, I distinctly remember my father coming home, at what was “my” first house on Seebergsteig. He declared excitedly that a friend had told him about a great show on television, and that it was on RIGHT NOW! We bustled over to the TV, and there it was on AFN, a local channel in Berlin catering to the military that was stationed in Germany. My dad had to throw a little toggle switch on the back of the unit to receive the NTSC signal on our PAL/SECAM unit, but we were able to watch it! I don’t remember what specifically was on, but I do remember feeling like I had won some kind of great prize – Television! And the grown-ups thought it was good for me!

It seems like I knew all the characters instantly, and that they stayed with me forever. I have three sons now, and tried to kindle in them the same love for the show, but somehow it didn’t take root. There are too many other programs on, there is no real story to follow on Sesame Street, and only the youngest are fascinated by the mundane stuff that is shown – let’s go buy shoes, let’s walk to school, let’s go to the dentist. Elmo, a newer character invented for the very young long after my time, definitely grabbed Isaac by the virtual lapels, but that passed quickly.

The show’s had a number of great celebrity guests on, including Michelle Obama. No coincidence, as her husband is considered the first President “from Sesame Street.” But slowly the show is losing its urban edge, as political correctness creeps into a program that was created by people completely outside of the system. The Southern Baptists suspect Ernie & Bert of having a gay agenda, some of the puppets have been taken out of circulation for being racially stereotypical or simply too scary, and the animated segments celebrating certain numbers or letters are considerably less psychedelic. Cookie Monster, the original addict and physical embodiment of pure unbridled desire, has been forced to pass up cookies in favor of healthier fare such as fruits and vegetables.

Oh well, it remains a great show, and I still love watching it. As Theo begins his inevitable relationship with TV, I will sit with him. I don’t like the German version, it was a castrated show from the beginning, designed by German “Pedagogen” who have raised a generation of soulless, humorless Love Parade attendees… No, it will be the US version, preferably some of the older shows.

I also have the full Electric Company on DVD, but the kids liked that even less. But for those of you who remember the original Sesame Street, let me make one recommendation: go see Avenue Q. The characters have been changed just enough to protect the innocent, but to an experienced viewer they are clearly recognizable. Imagine our favorite characters growing up, retaining their sense of humor and ability to sing, and combine that with drugs, internet porn, and Broadway soft-shoe. Brilliant!

PC in the Kitchen

I have a computer in the kitchen. It’s a pretty useful tool, because Karen and I are able to check email from there, and as people who work from home it’s nice to be so close without having to wander over to the office all the time. The computer also serves as a virtual recipe book, and a general access point for planning kids activities, managing various schedules, and putting together the endless grocery list.

But it also serves as a gateway to the news, and to social networking sites like LinkedIn and Facebook. These kinds of web visits are hardly mission-critical, but it’s hard to escape the allure of a juicy news story, or the tales of a friend’s weekend activities. Unfortunately we find ourselves checking it while the kids are in the kitchen… either having breakfast or dinner. Instead of paying full attention, we will just check out a quick story, read a funny thread of posts, or follow a link. We find ourselves giving half-answers to the kids, and setting a terrible example in general. Karen occasionally calls me on it, but she does it too if the content is sufficiently compelling or important.

We are the first generation to have that particular device in our life. In some ways it can be argued that it’s not much different than the absent-minded father who reads through the morning paper before leaving for work, his head buried behind a giant broadsheet of print. And there is something to be said for the productivity. An important pending issue can be resolved with a quick response, approvals granted, team-members managed, and the day can launch properly even before you’ve suited up the kids and mounted them in their car seats.

The same thing happens with the BlackBerries and iPhones. It is hard for the person across the table to know whether I’m dealing with an important business issue, a text-message from the nanny about a kid that fell and hurt himself, or whether I’m responding to a Facebook post. We take the kids out to lunch, and I find myself checking the incoming messages. I no longer respond to them unless they are important, in which case I always explain why I need to interrupt the conversation to take care of the pending issue… but I would never tolerate one of those sullen teenagers at my table texting away, so I better make damn sure I’m not a parent who is doing the same thing.

There is something positive about the kitchen computer though: the screensaver spools our life past us, one image every six seconds, and it’s a wonderful way to keep our family memories alive, and to be reminded of all the friends we have across the world. The boys have a high awareness of their extended family, and it constantly triggers questions from the kids about people and places that we know.