Fellow Englewood Avenue homesteader and photographer extraordinaire MJ Sharp has an exhibit of large format, long exposure work here in the foyer gallery. (see bottom of this post for an excerpt from the exhibit text).
The reception is this Friday, March 20, from 6-9pm. Everyone who rides here on a bicycle gets a free beer courtesy of the H&B Transportation Stimulation program.
We’ll be raffling off two weekend passes to the Full Frame documentary film festival. (The weekend passes are officially sold out, they do have single show advance tix available as of March 23)
$5 a ticket, or 5 tickets for $20. The winner will be pulled out of a hat at 8:45 and receives both passes (you don’t have to be here then to claim the prize).
The posters I’ve designed for Full Frame, with film descriptions and the four day schedule, will be on hand for the taking. Please feel free to take and distribute.
MJ Sharp website
Full Frame website
EXCERPT FROM MJ’s TEXT PANEL…
“I’ve been a documentary photographer for quite a while now, but starting around the turn of the millennium, I found myself drawn to a very specific bailiwick: endangered, night-dwelling animals. I teamed up with writer Elizabeth Brownrigg to report on the sea turtles that hatch at night along the North Carolina coastline, sometimes mistaking the lights of town for the moonlight that is supposed to direct them safely to the water. Later we reported on a contingent of bat biologists as they gathered for their annual “Bat Blitz,” a sort of Christmas Bird Count for the night-flying-mammal set. Both stories involved misunderstood, rarely-glimpsed creatures whose eons of adaptationto their environment were suddenly no match for human-inflicted habitat destruction.
Clearly, the unsuitability of the human environment was dominating my thoughts at that time, and what constituted “unsuitability” then began to enlarge in scope. There had been serious illness in my family, and seeing loved ones try to navigate the modern world when they were sick, weak, or frail, pointed a damning finger at the ruinous pace of it. Our efficient, fast-paced society began to feel very damaging, unhealthy, and suspect. There was no place for slow healing; no time for truth to ever-so-incrementally reveal itself. The day began to feel toxic. The night felt more honest. At night, everything was operating on its own time.”