On Monday, Chelsea held its annual Memorial Day parade and ceremony to honor those who have died in service to their country. The morning included a flyover by two A-10 Warthogs out of Selfridge.
In this photo you can see the shell being ejected from the gun; however, what you can’t see is the shell flying towards me and hitting me in the head. Who says photography isn’t dangerous?
(Full gallery.)
It’s Memorial Day 2009. If you’re in the Chelsea area, the parade starts at 10:00. Yes, you should be there.
Burrill Strong Photography officially opened for business on 15 March 2007, and that means last Saturday marked the beginning of the third year of BSP. Each year this venture exists is a blessing, so I think it’s important to recognize each year the business continues to operate and to look back at the growing history of BSP.
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Just a few days after I left my office job for the last time two years ago, I was in Milan shooting a Chelsea basketball playoff game; Chelsea held a comfortable margin at halftime, so I joined the team in the locker room to get a few shots of the coach talking to the players. As I was standing off to the side shooting pictures of the coach talking to his team, suddenly I realized: this is what I do. There was no day job in the background; I was a photographer. Period. That wasn’t the moment of decision — I’d decided to pursue photography full-time shortly before my office job ended — but it was the moment decision became reality in my mind. It was a little strange, a little surreal, a little frightening … and completely exhilarating.
Two years later, that moment still sticks in my mind as a watershed. To that point I’d worked jobs that provided a paycheck but little else; when I stood in that locker room photographing that team, I knew I’d found something that would be more than a paycheck.
This is what I do.
Jennifer Jones portrait session, 16 March 2008
Spring cleaning, 6 April 2008
Chelsea baseball vs. Milan, 8 April 2008
City directory photos, 9 April 2008
Chelsea House Orchestra concert, 19 April 2008
Chelsea soccer vs. Milan, 21 April 2008
I’ve learned a great many things since I started BSP, and chief among them is this: even for a simple operation like BSP, being self-employed is more work than having a job. The lure of Being Your Own Boss sounds great on those absurd commercials featuring people who are making thousands of dollars each month! Working part time! At home! With no experience necessary! Call now! But the reality of actually being your own boss in the context of a real business is that you have to worry about the numerous important details of running a business without having a boss to catch your mistakes and to keep you working when you’re feeling lazy. Being your own boss doesn’t mean you answer to nobody; being your own boss means you have to answer to your own clients and your own balance sheets.
But while that may sound intimidating — and when you start out mildly clueless as I did, it really is — there’s a major upside: if you’re your own boss, you’re probably doing something you enjoy. And when you’re doing something you enjoy, the hassles are bearable and the satisfaction is significant. I don’t really enjoy the organizational details of running BSP, but when I’m out somewhere with a camera in my hands and I get The Shot, all the non-photographic details are worth it; when those details are in order, I know I’ll be able to spend more time pursuing The Shot.
This is what I do.
Chelsea water polo vs. Holt/EL, 29 April 2008
Chelsea shopping center fire, 5 May 2008
Memorial Day, 26 May 2008
Ron Mead retirement farewell, 28 May 2008
Wind storm damage, 3 July 2008
Zoe Rozsa portrait session, 13 August 2008
Last week I visited Beach Middle School to talk to Jason Morris’ eighth-grade digital photo classes. Public speaking is another one of those necessary details I don’t enjoy, so when I’m compelled to speak, I grit my teeth and make an effort to sound like I know something about the English language. In this case it wasn’t too difficult; I showed the classes my camera equipment and answered their questions, and that covered most of the time. With the remaining time, Jason put all my photo books around the room and gave the students time to flip through the books.
Nearly all of the books I’ve produced have been sports-related, but there is one non-sports book in my catalog: the BSP Year One book, featuring a selection of my favorite images from my first year in business. When one small group of students finished looking through the Year One book, one of the girls closed it with a slightly exasperated sigh, lamenting that her pictures never seem to turn out that well and wondering if she’d ever be able to take such good photos.
I didn’t say anything in response to her plaint, but I couldn’t help but smile. Why? Because there have been many times I’ve looked at the work of more accomplished photographers and, with a slightly exasperated sigh, lamented that my pictures never seem to turn out that well and wondered if I’d ever be able to take such good photos. This is one of the truths of the creative world: unless you are one of the very few elite in your field, you’re always going to be looking up at somebody else.
It’s important to remember, though, that it’s a damaging truth only if you take the wrongly self-deprecatory view — that is, that your work somehow isn’t good enough because somebody else’s work is better. The last two years have helped me learn that while my work doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it also doesn’t exist to be endlessly and unfairly compared with that of more accomplished photographers. I’m not in this line of work to measure myself against other photographers or simply to be better than somebody else; I’m in this line of work to produce the best images I can.
This is what I do.
Krystin Schwarze portrait session, 17 August 2008
Chelsea Community Fair demolition derby, 19 August 2008
Phil Wickham concert, 14 September 2008
Chelsea football vs. Lincoln, 19 September 2008
Chelsea Area Fire Authority training, 5 October 2008
Chelsea football vs. Dexter, 26 October 2008
Before I officially started BSP, I was spending some of my free time photographing a few Chelsea High School sports. When I launched the business, I knew I’d have to branch out into different areas of photography to make the numbers work; however, I didn’t know how much work it would be to step outside the sports box I’d unwittingly built. Covering sports teams is an excellent way to meet a lot of people, but the more time you put into it, the more your identity becomes attached to those sports. Where do many potential clients see me most often? At sporting events. Which photos are most regularly featured in the newspaper? My sports photos. Which photos have won awards? My sports photos. I’m glad to be recognized for my sports work, but that’s not all I do!
Now, despite the frustration displayed in that paragraph, I have to be honest: I love the work I do with the local sports teams. As a sports fan, I enjoy the time I get to spend on the football sidelines or in the baseball dugout; it’s fun to get a chance not just to watch sports from afar, but to experience them close-up as I work. But I have to be honest about something else: to this point, I’ve probably gained more enjoyment than revenue out of sports. That makes the sports box considerably more confining because, sadly, enjoyment doesn’t pay the bills.
The good news is that the past year has shown some progress in my efforts to move beyond sports: I had more portrait sessions, I shot most of the photos for the current Chelsea School District brochure, and I produced a poster for the Chelsea District Library. It’s been encouraging to see the public perception begin to shift in the right direction; the progress can seem glacially slow, but there is progress. My sports work may always be one of the most prominent facets of my business, but finally, the word is starting to spread that it’s not the only facet of my business.
This is what I do.
Jennifer Jones concert, 26 October 2008
Youth Dance Theater’s Nutcracker, 6 December 2008
Chelsea hockey vs. Lumen Christi, 10 December 2008
Wind storm damage, 29 December 2008
Chelsea basketball vs. Dexter, 30 January 2009
Bruneau Dune, Idaho, 4 February 2009
Over the past year I’ve done a fair amount of freelance photography work for the Chelsea Standard and Dexter Leader, and I’ve come to enjoy the variety and community connection that work brings. Since I started shooting for the paper, I’ve attended numerous events in the area that I might not have attended otherwise and met numerous people I might not have met otherwise, and I’ve gotten to know both towns a little bit better through those events and those people. From youth theater productions and Christmas festivities to classes at the library and fundraisers for local nonprofit organizations, I’ve been able not just to experience many different parts of both communities, but also — and perhaps more importantly — to become more a part of my community through my work for the Standard.
When I hear positive feedback about my newspaper work, or when somebody asks me to shoot an upcoming event because they’ve enjoyed my published work in the past, it’s both professionally and personally gratifying; my newspaper work is a part of my business, but it’s also a part of my interaction with the local community, and my hope is that it makes some small contribution to that community.
This is what I do.
Ethan, 13 February 2009
Chelsea basketball vs. Pioneer, 17 February 2009
Chelsea hockey vs. Lansing Catholic Central, 21 February 2009
Chelsea basketball vs. Tecumseh, 4 March 2009
CHS faculty & friends concert, 6 March 2009
CCA’s Jazz & Chocolates, 13 March 2009
When I announced the beginning of BSP two years ago in a blog post here, I concluded the post with a verse from the book of Proverbs:
“Many are the plans in a man’s heart,
but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”
A great deal has happened since I jumped headlong into photography, but it doesn’t matter what happens: that verse will always hold true. I don’t know what the next year — or five years, or ten years — will hold for BSP; I know only that I’d like to see it grow into something much greater than it is now. But this business rests not in the plans in a man’s heart, but in the purpose of the Lord, and it will grow or fail according to that purpose. If that includes another year of BSP, then I’ll be back here next March, looking back on one more year filled with images from the life of a small-town photographer. After all…
This is what I do.
Three years after the death of Amy Schnearle-Pennywitt, it’s worth revisiting one of the comments on my original post:
Burrill, your account of the crash was forwarded to me at home by coworkers at the police department. It has provided an open forum for thought and reflection for those of us that played a small role that day. I am certain there is a God and that terrible day touched all our lives for one reason or another. I can say with absolute conviction my involvement on January 7, 2006 was meant to be.
I was the third officer to arrive at the scene and the drive to get there in one piece is one I will never forget. As quickly as I wanted to get there, the conditions would not allow me. The weather was evidenced by the amount of cars I drove past run off the roadway on Westbound 94. As I would try and push the gas pedal down farther my car would start to fishtail, wanting to get there in one piece and be able to offer some assistance was my main goal. The drive seemed to take forever and the radio traffic while en route was frightening and I began to pray out loud in the patrol car.
When I arrived on scene, Amy was being put on the stretcher. The fear in her coworkers eyes paralyzed me for a moment. My experience and training kicked in. While trying to organize the series of events that lead up to the crash, I kept praying for Amy. My ultimate assignment was to interview the man that actually struck Amy. I was mad, angry and ready to give him an earful. When I got to the hospital he was all by himself laying on a gurney in the back hallway of the ER. Still strapped down with the neck collar on he was wiping the tears from his face as I approached. He recognized me from the crash and immediately asked about the firefighter. I relayed what I knew stressing the gravity of the situation. He began to sob and I teared up as well. He appeared to be a simple guy, dressed in a flannel shirt heading to his laborer’s job that fateful morning. My anger began to melt away as this grown man sobbed. I asked him to take a blood test to ascertain whether there was any alcohol or drugs in his system. He said to “do to him whatever I needed to” (his actual words). I was so torn, what I wanted to do was grab him, shake him yell at him for what he had done, but his remorse and actions made me feel sorry for him.
A few days after the crash I went to see Amy at the hospital. From what we had been told, there was a slim chance she would regain consciousness and have a viable life. I had met Amy prior to that day on a few calls but was not a friend. When I think about her I think about her cute pink toenails as she lay in the hospital bed. I commented on it and was told her mom had painted them for her. How precious.
This past summer I retired as a police officer after 14 years of service. I am not ashamed to say the events of that January morning played a role in my decision. Life is too fragile, I have known it all along, but when it hits that close to home, it gets you thinking. I have three beautiful children that I stay at home with now. My role that day has brought me here,to be home with my kids. I miss the calls and the people but the thoughts in the back of my mind of “this might be the call that takes me away from my family” have ended. I am proud of my 14 years, and enjoyed it but I have a more important calling in life. So, even though I can’t say I knew Amy, I can say she touched my life profoundly. Whenever I paint my daughters toes, I think of Amy and smile.
Lisa
Way back in October 2004, I started a blog called the Mindreader. That name made plenty of sense when all the blog contained were words; however, a little enterprise called Burrill Strong Photography has since caused my time to be occupied by thousands of pictures, and the content of the blog has reflected that change. Because I now post far more pictures than words, it occurred to me the Mindreader name might be approaching retirement age, and I started to ponder a more pertinent replacement.
If you’re like me and you can only vaguely remember the idyllic notion of 20/20 vision, you have an important notation on your drivers license: “Corrective Lens.” It’s just a fancy way of saying your eyesight genes hate you and so you wear glasses or contacts in order to tell whether that object in the other lane is a car with a burned-out headlight or an anglerfish. For some odd reason, that fancy phrase wandered into my mind as I was pondering a new name for this blog, and before long it morphed into the new name: the Connective Lens.
I settled on the Connective Lens because it expresses what my photography work has done for my interaction with the community of Chelsea. My circulating through Chelsea and shooting such a wide variety of events — from sports to the arts to events like the Christmas tree lighting — has made me much more a part of this community than I was before I became Burrill Strong Photography; through my photography work, I get to see so many different pieces of Chelsea and interact with so many different people in Chelsea, and that has given me a greater appreciation of — and connection to — my hometown.
As well, the Connective Lens expresses what I hope my work accomplishes within the Chelsea community. Many of the events I shoot end up with half- or full-page photo spreads in the Chelsea Standard, and it’s my hope that those spreads not only shed light on all the community’s varied elements, but also help serve as a connection among all those elements. Sports, the arts and holiday celebrations can be disparate, but they’ve all traveled through my lens to the attention of the community by way of the newspaper and this blog; those who wouldn’t normally show up to a play, a hockey game or a Christmas tree lighting ceremony have gotten to see all those and more in the pages of the Chelsea Standard and in the posts of this blog.
So, whether or not this blog ever gains a significant and consistent Chelsea readership, many of the images posted herein represent not only my contribution to my community, but also my community’s contribution to me. And that’s why it’s called the Connective Lens.
(Fun trivia: the very first Mindreader post was titled “The Downward Spiral of Conformity, or: Everyone Else Has One, So I’ll Have One Too!”)
Newspaper shoot: The Great Chelsea Shopping Center Fire (5 May 2008).
Two weeks ago, I was sitting at home processing pictures when I heard sirens in Chelsea. Normally I don’t pay much attention to sirens in town, but this was different: there were more sirens than normal, and they just seemed to keep going. Eventually, when I remembered to turn on my cell phone, I found out what had happened: the Chelsea Shopping Center caught fire, and the fire was swift and dangerous enough to prompt several other area fire departments to respond. (Apparently it was a slow news day, too, because it also prompted the Detroit media to respond.) I wasn’t able to make it to the scene while the building was on fire, but I was able to get a few worthwhile shots of the damage.
The fire never broke through the roof, but smoke and water damaged seven businesses (one of which managed to reopen the next day!). The cause of the fire appears to have been an electrical malfunction.
Most importantly, nobody was injured.
Sunday, 13 January 2008, marked two years since the death of Ann Arbor firefighter Amy Schnearle-Pennywitt. As with the day of the accident, I didn’t want the day to pass without commemoration, so I visited the grave after church.
I wasn’t the only one commemorating that day; Amy’s family members, friends and co-workers were there for a memorial service. I arrived shortly after the service ended, so I had the privilege of actually meeting a number of people for the first time (and in a few cases, reacquainting myself with people I’d met on the scene of the accident); those conversations were moving and humbling. I was aware that her family members and co-workers had read my account of the accident, but I didn’t know just how much it meant to them until I was able to meet them; I posted my thoughts mostly for me, but when I met her family members and co-workers, I learned that those thoughts ended up serving a purpose far greater than my own catharsis.
It is the hand of God that took my words — the words of someone who played the wrong sort of role in the tragedy of that morning — and used them to bring comfort to those who needed it.
As of today, 7 January 2008, it has been two years since the highway pileup that eventually claimed the life of Amy Schnearle-Pennywitt, an Ann Arbor firefighter. I didn’t want to let the day pass without commemoration, so I stopped and left a rose at the plaque in front of the fire station at which she worked.
At the end of Band of Brothers, one of the veterans portrayed in that remarkable series quotes the words of a fellow veteran.
I cherish the memories of a question my grandson asked me the other day when he said, “Grandpa, were you a hero in the war?”
Grandpa said, “No, but I served in a company of heroes.”
Happy Memorial Day.
(Those of you who have not yet seen Band of Brothers should remedy that oversight as soon as possible.)