The Ritual Apology

I keep encountering people during interviews who proclaim themselves woefully inept at communicating or brand themselves as boring. And, yet, often these people end up being the most interesting once they get going.

I wonder if the whole concept is similar to what our writing crew at the University of San Diego used to call "the ritual apology" — an affirmation of inadequacy that is offered prior to presenting one's work that often consists of such gems as "I wrote it at five in the morning after getting back from a bar," or "I wrote this several years ago" — which we found ourselves doing before reading each piece in our little writer's club. Once we branded it, if anyone began to apologize for their work, we'd stop them, chiding in unison "ritual apology" and get on with the workshop.

I think maybe sometimes people just want to free themselves from negativity they're holding inside — these thoughts that what they have to say is not important.

One of the things I try to do in my writing — journalistic, fiction and here — and photographs, is to show that nothing is by definition insignificant.

Sure, we have to filter things we encounter, choosing what is more or less important, but that doesn't make the things we overlook any less significant to someone else.

Recognition

I made this picture during the tricycle and scooter races at Rambling River Days, the town festival in Farmington, MN. The photographer from our competitor newspaper was shooting the same event and I remember watching and wondering what he was seeing and thinking of what I wanted to see.

It seemed the glory for these kids was at the finish line, so I put on my long lens and hoped for the best. Lo and behold, I'd read the situation right and the above photo is what emerged. I love the drama and whimsy of the image. It's clearly a simple event — the trike tells us this. Yet the emotion, the attempt to capture it for all time on video and the juxtaposition of the teenager in the left corner, inattentively and talking on her cell phone make this image very real for me.

This year, I took second place in our company-wide editorial contests for Best Feature Photo for this shot. It was nice to be recognized, especially for such a fun shot.

I was also excited to win a few writing awards, including a first place for Best Social Issues story for a piece I wrote about Oral Cancer. It's gratifying to win the award, though I'd already been heavily rewarded through feedback I'd received from people who were helped or enlightened by the article.

In both cases, I felt the award winning work was created because I had the ability to recognize the possibility in situations that evolved on their own. That's the beauty in journalism and photojournalism — using knowledge, skill and intuition, not to create, but to capture what has already been created and represent it in such a way that others are able to access its message.

If These Walls Could Talk ...

In this week's paper I ran two house profiles for which I also created photo-tours.

You can view the Flynn house or read more about it. You can also view the T.C. Davis Manor or read more about it.

Incidentally, these will likely be my last Farmington stories as I transition to a new position as the city of Savage editor and Scott County reporter. I'll also be the Arts editor.