All Locked Up

She holds the lock
Originally uploaded by sara furey

I held this lock in Leadville, Colorado in the cold month of March. Then I walked around the corner and found a Catholic Church, named St. Joseph's, which is my grandfather's name. Joe Magee is quite the devout Catholic if ever there was one.... Anyway, like I was saying, I found this church and it too was locked (bummer, its really terribly cold and windy up here this time of year) but outside there was a statue of Mary, with rosary beads wrapped up in her frigid stone hands. I'm not the best Catholic, but I grabbed the beads and remembered what prayers I could, and made up the rest as I went along.. I know my verses weren't exact, but my heart was in the right place, and if I were Protestant or Presbyterian, well, that would count for a great deal of faith. Not necessarily to everyone, but to me.. well, it was a valiant and genuinely heartfelt effort in connecting with some sort of higher sprit. I needed it.

In any case, I went to Leadville to photograph the textures of old saloons and rusty broken down pick up trucks. I came to the realization one day (FINALLY) that all these years I have been searching for interesting textures in broken down old place because I felt so numb, and I needed to feel SOMETHING- ANYTHING. The fact that I was walking down Main Street in this sad old mining town and got a bad splinter as I ran my hand along old wooden doors and
fense posts help spark this brilliant revelation.

So was there a point to this blog? Well, let's see, I spoke to God, via a snowy statue of Mary, and He actually answered me, and sent me some rather loud signs to reconfirm my faith that occasionally things will get better and will work out for me. I dont take that many macro photos of old shit anymore, I think I might have finally gotten it out of my system, and splinters suck. And the lock, well, I'll let you insert your own Bob Dylanesque allegory.

Domesticity

kitch_arms_bw
Originally uploaded by sara furey

This is a test to see if I can post directyly from Flickr...

The Spoon, The Fork, And The Damage Done

On a recent trip to Moab, Utah, I took these photos at breakfast at the Jailhouse Cafe. I highly recommend eating there. I could post some of the beautiful shots of the desert I took, but this fork seems more interesting to me. I'm also a fan of the man in the spoon, and of Neil Young.

Heavy Like A Feather

I found this little guy in Blue River near the tarn.. It was so pretty covered in dew.

Conflict

I am conflicted. I think I bore people with photographs of rusty old objects and chipping paint, but then no one really seems to "get" my more conceptual and theatrical work.. i.e. time lapses and long exposures dressed up in 1950's attire in abandoned houses, creating imagery that looks like I am melting into the floor. What do people consider "good" photography these days? Photos of aspen and rivers really really bore me, so maybe thats how others feel about my work. But landscape photography is just that.. people shoot the amazing landscapes that surround us. I can do that too, but coming up with an interesting idea and bringing it to life, or attempting to manifest my crazy imagination and thoughts into imagery.. thats art. Right? Isn't that why I went to art school? Because every photographer I met at the art festival here in Breckenridge this weekend told me that 1.) they never went to school for photography. 2.) It started out as just a hobby. 3.) People love landscapes. I'm poor, not selling any artwork and confused. I will however continue to shoot rusty old cars and tiny towns and roadside attractions, such as motel signs and abandoned gas stations... because they make me happy. Wildflowers are awesome.. but I don't get a rush from finding a few columbine.

Textures of Mining

Textures of Mining History

Images shot in Summit County, Colorado.

Roadside Coffee

Get it while its hot! This was taken in lovely downtown Las Vegas, New Mexico. My fascination with rural America never ceases to yield interesting photos of yesteryear. I toned down this image in photoshop to make it less saturated to give it a more rustic feel.

Your Time Is Up

Your Time Is UP.
Broadway. Denver, CO

Jello.. I could use somebody..

That was my quote of the day for last Friday layered over a photo I recently took of some Jello.
I have been listening to this Kings of Leon song on repeat all day... It goes like this," You know that I could use somebody.. Someone like you.. Someone like you and all you know and how you speak..." Its funny because I wonder if I'll ever meet someone who appreciates the fact that I make jello look beautiful, and the fact that I truly got excited when I took this photo.. And then I think about the song.. and I think about someone who has been on my mind lately. I'm pretty difficult to live with, and I'm extremely picky when it comes to finding someone to share my time.. and my bathroom with.

Its rare when I can find someone who actually captivates my attention for more than five minutes. I am so skilled in the art of killing conversations, I usually resort to discussion of concentration camps, and my fascination with Nazi cemeteries in Germany, or I embark on a tangent about how the US Government testes nuclear weapons on Native American lands and fucked them into the future for generations. (Nuclear fallout + reproduction = serious birth defects + alcoholism + extreme poverty = Did we seriously do that to these people? Oh yeah.) But by now I'm sure so-n-so has lost interest or got scared and looks for his escape, saving me the effort and my comfy booth in a packed bar.

So, when said human does actually come along and I hang on his every word and find brilliance in his rambles and tirades on world politics and rap lyrics.. I'm pretty much hooked. Now I'm bummed because this said person of my mental affections is not around to verbally spar with me, whilst repeatedly hitting me with witty one-liners that make me want to fall on the kitchen floor in laughter.

It's hard to find somebody like you. xoxo

I love you like broken glass

I love you like broken glass
Originally uploaded by sara furey

If I could go back to this day, this house, I would. And I would stay there forever and ever and Id be so happy. I miss love.I just found out that the city of Boulder tore down this house, and I was so so sad to drive by and see more storage units sitting in its place. I texted Mike to tell him.. he wasnt nearly as devastated as I was.. but responded with a sarcastic, "Ahhh the memories!" I didnt write him after that. R.I.P. 63rd and Arapahoe..

Textual Love Affairs

Why is it so easy for people to say things like this via text message, but not in real life? Text messages, instant messages, facebook threads, wall posts and photo comments do not exist in the real world. I'd much rather have had him give me a hug, hold my hand, and say these nice things... but I'll settle for these. I wish I could have dated in earlier decades where we were not inundated with technology that makes it painfully easy to text in and out of people lives and hearts.

I Heart Leadville, Colorado

I do. I heart Leadville. I'll finish discussing why later.

The door's open but the ride ain't free

Sometimes I need to just get in my car and drive away as far and as fast as I can. I have to open all the windows and feel the cool western winds in my hair and the bright sun beating down upon me as I shoot like a bullet towards an infinite horizon. The open road stretches out before me while adventure and possibilities are endlessly unfolding with each mile ticked on the odometer. Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash serenade me on cavernous mountain roads through tiny old mining towns and down the vast expanses of lonely desert highway. Sometimes it’s lonely. Staying in strange motels alone, hearing strangers in the adjoining rooms, or maybe hearing nothing at all for hours except the sound of my own voice and my guitar. I take a lot of photos at night, it helps to pass the hours I spend not being able to sleep in these dumpy roadside motels in the middle of nowhere. If I think of it like a photo project, sometimes it’s easier. Sometimes it still freaks the hell out of me and I wonder what the hell I am doing there alone in the first place. (Insert a myriad of Dylan lyrics here..) But then I remember that in a few short hours the sun will creep in through the sadly dismal window dressings that are desperately more vintage than my 1970’s baby blue Levis chords will ever be, and I’ll go eat hotcakes at a roadside diner somewhere with local old cowboys who will look at me as if I just emerged from a foggy dream they had once.. and I’ll feel better as soon as I get back on the road and on the hunt for new roadside attractions to photograph.

This motel in Eagle's Nest, New Mexico. I believe it cost me only $35 for the evening. I didn't sleep well at all, the television was so old it had a rabbit ear antenna with aluminum foil on it.








I didn't shower in the bathroom, I was scared to take off my shoes and socks.

ReWARds

I've recently started collecting postcards and fliers from clubs, shops, cafes and anywhere else I find them. In London, over Thanksgiving, I collected about 200 different items, mostly advertising bands, and deejays, or art galleries. The image above I created by submerging in liquids, then photographing it with a macro lens. It says reward because after watching too many movies about WWII recently, I have a fascination with war.. and the word ReWARd, (oh the irony of the spoils of war that are often so beneficial to the victorious parties... President Bush.. Halliburton.. postwar Commie Germany) I think heaps of the war in Iraq and remember during the 2004 election living in a crazy house in Boulder, CO where we had a 10 foot sign on our front porch that read, "NO WAR FOR OIL!". I liked John Kerry, I cried that November, really I did.

The woman in this image looks as if she is bidding farewell to the world, she's sinking in the bubbly stew that I created for her, which is partly comprised of the different oils I have been manipulating and experimenting with. She could also be blowing you a kiss.. Reminiscent of a 1940's pin-up girl, she works with my whole World War Two theme. She doesn't resemble Eva Braun though, so the idea that flit around in my head for a few brief milliseconds about Eva saluting the Third Reich quickly dissipated. (Thankfully because if was a ridiculous stretch, even for me. Plus there were no rewards for Germany after the allies had that shit on lock down... perhaps it could have gone somewhere else with different text.. but maybe I should move on from discussing Nazis because I haven't even had lunch yet..) In conclusion, London, pin-up girls, blitzkrieg bombing raids, oil and war.. It makes sense to me.. comes full circle quite nicely. The text needs some work, I don't like the colour or the font.. but its only a prototype for an eccentric idea that will develop over time...
This is another one.. adventures with text that I took off of another postcard then manipulated in Illustrator with some background texture from another submerged collage image. It's not easy caring about issues like the planet and politics... really, it isn't. My life would be far less complicated if I wasn't burdened with a social conscience and a desire to save the earth from global warming and weapons of mass destruction.