No More Knives performed at the High Dive in Freemont…One thing about Seattle, is for sure. If you are hungry for music, look around…you can feed your face.
Travis Morrow, Jeff Mann and Gilberto Cuvarrubias put on a show and wiped the sweat off their foreheads afterwards.
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I have never done a hundred mind you… but as I stood there taking photos I turned to my friend Johnny and said…. “I feel like I have to go home and do a hundred push ups untill I cry.” He laughed and agreed. This Fight gone bad was most impressive. As I watched one of the competitors, who’s name I will not produce just incase she minds… I saw her at her ’1 minute rest’ her face looked like a face I have felt… at the end of running in 110+ weather in South Texas at noon after I run 13+ miles.. I feel like vomitting…. but. I don’t. So my empathy made my eyes water….
I run… and everyday along the run, I am amazed by how beautiful it is. I see the flowers. I see wild fruit. I see old doors. And I see the water everywhere. After my run today, I got home and grabbed my camera and went back to take a picture of this gate that I always see…and flowers that my eyes enjoy…
I took this photo at an AVA tounament on Alki Beach. The actual 5 foot by 3 foot print is hanging in the Volleyball store “Seattle Beach Volleyball Club,’ Brian Boyer opened this summer. (photographAEP@hotmail.com contact me for questions on shooting your events.) Store is location: 2622 Alki Ave SW #102
Seattle, WA 98116 admin@bbvbclub.com
Brian was done as a Navy officer…..and what to do next. His passion was for Volleyball. So why not start a company and base it in Alki? His involvement in the game lead him to meet his future wife Lisa. Recently engaged, it made sense to take them to the beach to shoot their photos….
This is at Golden Gardens Beach in Seattle, WA.
A Veterans Day tribute by a Veteran to her Father…And all vets.
Posted: November 13, 2009 in UncategorizedOne thing we all share is racism. Every culture and people in different countries, can give examples of racism, if even the slightest instances. And it would seem that most of our problems and more obviously, our world’s war have roots in racism. “The Great War,” or World War I ended officially when the Treaty of Versailles was signed in France, but the cease fire went into effect on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. Though there have been changes of the date the United States celebrates this day, and even a change in name of the celebration, November 11th is Veterans Day, this day is a day to honor the dead and the living that have served in wartime and during peace. Minorities have always been part of the military, even though times of more obvious racism. It is very interesting to hear from my father, things that he had never talked much about and things I had not really asked about; his years in the Navy during Vietnam. And while he did experience or witness racism, he did make it clear, that although there was racism in the military, there was much more acceptance and camaraderie between different races. Especially during war, people were dying around you. You defended the person next to you. Black, white, yellow, brown…it did not matter. You depended on the guy in front of you, behind you and next to you. ‘Varied discrimination’ is how he described the discrimination he witnessed. It was not only discrimination between racism. Caucasians from Boston would discriminate to Caucasians from Louisiana to Caucasians from California. “You dumb hick from Tennessee” is one of the common remarks he heard thrown around. I myself laughed at this because I remember, as a Mexican-American from Texas, we used to say “Those damn California-Mexicans.” Going back to comments that stayed in my fathers’ memories, he heard things like: Well if it hadn’t been for Pedro we would all be dead. Well where’s Pedro? He’s over there…in a body bag. Comments like these were made by Caucasian military service members; discrimination was toned down in these cases. But discrimination went on at these times as well, but in a different form. It was that other people did not say anything. Nothing bad, but nothing good. Almost like not acknowledging this person who died saving them, had not really helped. From the wars of the eighteenth century, the U.S. Military was weary of non-English immigrants. Yes, yes, we all get out turn on the discrimination wheel. Scotch-Irish, German, Swiss, French, Asian, Mexican, African and every other group I fail to mention, all were discriminated against in the military. Again though, there tends to be more acceptance between the actual members in the military opposed to the outside community. As far as discrimination in the Navy during the Vietnam War, the enlisted saw lots of people dead. In my fathers’ case, he rarely made it to land because he stayed on the ship, but they were picking up bodies, ‘It’s very sobering to see bodies, sometime the same people you took over.’ People they picked up from Hawaii and took to Vietnam, sometimes returned four days later in body bags. It kind of makes you forget about being discriminatory. Mass ceremonies were held in the hanger-bay of the ship. The families were Mexican, they were black, they were Chinese, and they were White. The families all cried together.
So the baby and mother photo, I think looked real nice in black and white. His eyes stood out more.
The bride to be wanted photos in black and white, just to have for her own, as a memory. I think she looks classic.
Before I even entered Colorado from Kansas…I got news of a winter storm that would hit. I wanted so bad to get through the storm. But it nailed me in Wyoming, just as it killed these roses. I stayed in Cheyenne for two nights. I had to take photos or felt that it would be such a losss of time. 
The town had a lot of action going on, but only on the train side of it. The entire town town was shut down. Except for a few things that I noticed. One of then being a bar that had the word ‘Skunk” in it’s title and a place to eat called Capital Diner at a hotel.
In Kansas, this was the same day of the storm. But a few hours before in the drive twards Wyoming. I kept driving for miles and miles, wondering. “Where are the people. I pulled over suddenly after seeing this irrigation set up, that I had seen in several fields. Not even a minute after I pulled over a cop was behind me. I thought, well I didn’t do anything, sooooo… He asked “Does your car use oil?”
“Oil?” I repeated
“Yes…I saw some white smoke but 
maybe it was the dirt.”
Wow I thought, he is just being helpful…
I forgot I was not in Texas anymore. I explained I needed to take photos but kept seeing fields like this. He said that if I took the next exit there was a corn field that had not been cut at a farm. (VERY interesting I thought. That this is what he had to say.) So I did take the exit. And I found some old equipment and took some photos.
I spent my time by the Marcus team. Needless to say, there were tears shed by the team members after the game, I felt emotional for them. After the game, Christy Tumilty, Marcus head coach’s children came into the dugout, with little tears and sniffles. They asked their mother why the girls were crying and why they were sad. She told them that they were sad because it was over. And one of the little boys said, “Well, it’s not over forever.” She agreed and said, it was just over for now.
After the game Tumily told her team that she was proud that they had come this far.
The photos of the team in red is Marcus. Plano east in black.
