Black and White

I’ve been delving into taxes this week, and my mind is feeling addled and burnt out from crunching numbers. So, I’m taking a break this morning to post a few photos I took in January. These were shot with my film camera using BW400CN, a film stock recommended by my friend Clark. Clark has been developing his own black and white film at home lately, and he suggested this film stock as a cheap, easy alternative to true black and white photography. BW400CN is actually a color film that is developed using the ubiquitous (and cheap) color process, but it produces a quite effective black and white image. Here are the results:

Phil of the Bowerbirds sings at the Grey Eagle.

Yann backs him up.

James drinks.

The Bowerbirds are a new favorite band of mine, and they played a great show at the Grey Eagle on January 12th. James Michael and Anne went along with me, and they were both very impressed with Yann’s multitasking at the drums, keyboard, and backup vocals. I thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of the show.

Bowerbirds music can best be classified in the alt-country and freak folk genres. This latter genre title is new to me and doesn’t seem quite appropriate for the music itself (in fact, many of the artists labeled as freak folk resent the title), but it’s the most specific classification I’ve found yet for this brand of contemporary folk; so there you have it. Whatever you call it, this is music well worth checking out.

I also participated in a pair of cold-weather kayak races in January: The Iceman Championship on the Saluda River and the Chattooga Race. I left both events feeling I’d underperformed and fallen short of my potential, but this is a regular theme for me in competitions. I almost never feel like I’ve done as well as I ought.

Chris Gragtmans boofs onto the finish line at Sock'em Dog rapid, Chattooga River.

In the Chattooga Race I made a strategic error coming off the starting line and got swallowed in the pack of twenty boats that were all vying for position. In a head-to-head start it’s essential to get out front early so that you don’t waste energy fighting with the pack, but I got myself stuck in the thick of the racers, all of us paddling behind the two-foot wake that the leaders were raising across the narrow river bed.

I spent the rest of the race trying to gain ground, and I managed to work up to fifth position (still about a hundred yards behind the front group of three). I would have been somewhat happy with a fifth-place result, but at the final rapid of the race, Sock’em Dog, I pulled a weak boof stroke and back-endered into the hole. I was stuck in there long enough for three or four other paddlers to boof in atop me and pass right at the finish line. I was too exhausted to fight out of the hole and eventually left my boat, was recirculated three times, and finally caught a rope to be pulled out. No glory there, but still a thoroughly fun day on the river with friends.

The racers gathered together around a fire, relieved to be at the finish rock.

Here is the last picture of the set and my personal favorite. It was taken at my friend Bryan’s house on a night when he had several people over to enjoy a backyard bonfire and a pony keg of Pisgah Pale Ale. This is the best of mountain living in winter, though by now everyone around these parts is ready to bid winter farewell.

Well, I’ve been playing the avoidance game long enough–it’s time to turn back to my least favorite harbinger of Spring: taxes. Thanks for visiting, and please leave a comment if you’d like.

-Chris