santa clara valley

santa clara valley, originally uploaded by Janelka.

On a whim, Jon and I took a lovely long walk to check out the petroglyphs in Santa Clara. There was some really fun/stunning/amusing rock art. The scenery was rather lovely, too. Jon and I tried to imagine how the ancient natives lived out there, when the climate was a little different. Jon pointed out that where the petroglyphs are, there are alcoves where you could hide from the sun or prepare meals as well as large flat rocks to lay out and sun yourself on. It painted a pretty picture in my head.

This photo was taken just after the sun ducked behind a desert mountain peak.
I used my Berkey Keystone camera, on expired Polaroid ID-UV film.

Instant Utah

View From The Depths

I snapped the one above while hiking around Bryce Canyon on Sept 6th. We met a guy there who used to use a Polaroid 180, and was very intrigued by my use of instant film in this day and age. We had a good little chat and then ran into him (and his wife?) a few more times along the Navajo Trail. This picture was taken with my Berkey Keystone Everflash on ID-UV Polaroid film that expired 03/2008. Hence the color shift and corner that didn't quite work out. I love it all the more for its imperfections.

In comparison, the next two photographs below were taken on the same Everflash camera, but on Fuji 100-C film.

Grafton here, send more tractors.

The ghost town of Grafton was a fun little site to walk around. Besides using my Everflash, I took photos on my Diana camera (and possibly my Holga as well). There are a handful of structures that remain standing as memory of what could have been. This was a failed pioneer project not too far from modern-day Springdale, Utah.

Rock Hounds

Jon's friends Mike and Phil came in from the Cincinnati area for the wedding. When they came through the St. George area we took them to Grafton and this rock pit. Aren't we great hosts? I'm not sure what they thought of Grafton, but to be honest, they all got a kick out of our local pit. Mike LOVES rocks. He ran around with this excitement and enthusiasm that was infectious, flipping through rocks and finding a few to ship back to Ohio. I didn't quite focus on the guys too well, as the pile of dust in front of their feet is what came out crisp, but you get the general idea of what's going on, right?

The Tiniest Island

I obviously didn't take this last photograph. Jon did. On my Everflash, again. And the ID-UV film. As you can see, there was a lot of fun color-shifting going on, plus it came out a little over-exposed. I love the blue shadow and how my hair looks auburn. Hmm... auburn hair. There's an idea.

Hawaiian Polaroids

In trying to decide which of my Polaroid cameras to take with me to Kauai, I kept coming back to The Reporter, and my Polaroid knock-off, a Berkey Keystone Everyflash. Both big black cameras-- the Keystone had already made some lovely images, but it is a huge brick of a thing. While The Reporter was up til then untested, it is much more compact and manageable. Ultimately, size and weight mattered when hiking. I have posted below the shots I took with my Polaroid camera, titled The Reporter. These photos remind me of the feel of each of these places more than the crisp images that Jon and I got on our digital cameras.

Waimea Canyon. The Grand Canyon of Kauai. It is indeed a grand place, home to mountain goats and soaring birds and trees and a wild wind.

We were in a place where the clouds rubbed up against the mountain's edge, where they bumped, jostled, and rough-housed until they finally fell over one another and rolled over the tree tops and over the edge of the mountains themselves. . .

Lawai International Center

How I loved this magical, quiet, spiritual place. Whispers of hopes, wishes, and prayers nestle among the ferns and shrines that line the hillside. I couldn't help but feel peace settling down into my bones as I walked the trails of the grounds. It felt as though this sleepy, quiet, powerful place woke something in me.

This is how I'll remember these sites-- in the magical, nostalgic, slightly blown-out sepia tones of my expired Polaroid film.