some things i've been doing
Since quitting HP in March, I've been focusing on photography and very much not on programming. I have a few projects up in the air, and some that are dead ends. There was the clock-winder in JP,
the mask-maker in Somerville
and my judo sensei/tailor.
I just finished a class with this guy
and gained an enhanced way of seeing things.
Among other topics, I shot my local watering hole,
and even used film once or twice.
I started a project on garbage men
and a fascinating farmer.
I had a fun opportunity to be the DP on a short film called Balance, and I hope to develop more video skills and work with the rest of those folks in the future.
It's rare that I'm not with my camera (and a ridiculous amount of other gear) anywhere I go, and on the off chance that my camera is at home, I'm always in observing mode: on the street,
pretending to be professional,
or running into strange people who ask me to take their picture.
The wiring change in my brain from cubicle-dweller to would-be-documentarian was swift and painless, though I can't say that the past few months have been psychologically easy.
I've stepped into a great unknown and am constantly thinking about how it's all going to work out. It's been a challenge to get out of my head and just shoot, but when I have a direction, the way is clear.
Eventually, I'll have all of these projects in a presentable form on my website. For now, I'll just leave some pie here; I'm really hungry at the moment.
This is the last thing my grandfather told me before he died: "I saw your house. Nice town." I regret that I wasn't home the only time that he was able to visit my neighborhood.
I miss his advice, his stories about life, and his quiet support. He was one tough cookie who worked hard and handled whatever life dealt him. (Nate said all of this better.)
Life is like a subway car, rattling down the tracks. The braking and accelerating, bumps and tugs are the changes in life that send us in new directions. Some people in the car try to stand in the middle and end up bouncing against the walls and other people. Some will even blame the tracks for being so rutted or curse the driver for not driving smoothly. Others, who hold firmly to the car or sit comfortably in a seat, feel much less of the ride — in fact, the bumps are relaxing enough to make them fall asleep.
How can we maintain a firm grip on the changes in our lives? How do we stop bumping into people and yelling about unforeseen turns? How do we become the drivers of our lives?
I've been thinking a lot about Judo lately. On December 1st, my sensei promoted me to yellow belt, which was exciting if only because it matches my blue gi well. It's nice to see progress recognized, even if the belt system can seem very arbitrary (I've sparred with some yellow belts who were clueless, and some higher belt folks have forgotten basic things).
The more I learn about Judo, the more subtleties I see that I've yet to internalize. For instance, when I first started, I often became frustrated because it seemed to me that despite all the talk of minimizing effort and using one's opponent's weight against him, actually throwing someone required great strength. I would look around and think that everybody must be stronger than I was, because when I tried to throw, I felt that I had to exert so much. But after 6 months, I'm finally starting to figure out kuzushi1, and the techniques make more sense now. With the right kuzushi, throws feel effortless for both parties. A good Judoka was demonstrating uchi mata on me, and it felt like nothing was happening until I landed on the mat after spinning through the air. A poorly executed uchi mata feels like a kick in the groin and an awkward, hard fall. Technique, and especially kuzushi, make all the difference. A clean throw should make uke2 feel like he's going for a pleasant ride through the air, followed by a clean landing, distributing the impact across the body. Bad technique is painful, like when my foot sweeps were more kicks to the shin than anything resembling a sweep.
This focus on continually improving the technique keeps me interested. I'm turned off by the brute strength in typical MMA style grappling, and I'm surprised that I used to watch UFC matches on TV. These days, they're pretty much lugheads bashing each other. On the other hand, watching the old masters demonstrate the gokyo inspires me with their effortless execution3.
Judo has made me stronger and better balanced. Whereas wrestling requires extra strength training to compete, just doing Judo (and the many many uchikomi4 we do) builds enough strength to do the techniques. How do you move someone 100lbs heavier who doesn't want to move? You push and pull in little movements, using the whole body. All of this searching for kuzushi ends up strengthening one's core muscles such that the body becomes more spring-like. Every step and movement in a throw contributes towards maximizing the explosive power from the body. It's really an amazing thing.
Sometimes we talk amongst ourselves about how challenging sparring can be with a heavier Judoka, and then we wonder how a real life situation would look. Judging from the ease of throwing most normal people who walk onto the mat for the first time, I'd say that Judo would seriously injure someone on the street. It's sobering to think that some of the throws that we do to each other every day might kill a person who didn't know Judo or at least understand how to fall correctly.
Aside from the physical aspects, Judo has helped me stay...err, grounded. And it's helped me with some personal adversity and stress where I may have crumbled before. I don't know; I'm still often surly. Maybe Judo can't help with that aspect, but it reminds me that at the end of the day, someone is going to launch me into the air onto my back. If you can pick yourself up off the mat every time, suddenly those other life problems aren't so abiding.
redline fight night
On July 18th, I competed in Redline's first grappling/MMA night. Above is my first match against training partner, Jordan. I wasn't very satisfied with my performance — I still have trouble finding entrances for throws. And it was an ugly win. I never even try guillotine chokes in practice because they're too much of a strength move and not very elegant. I guess I just wanted the match to end at that point.
My second match went into double overtime and was more exciting (it was somewhat rigged, but we don't have to talk about that) before I lost to Humphrey via armbar. Nate took a bunch of photos of the night.
I've been meaning to post more about all of the recent news from my life, but I've been too busy living to type it out. Soon.