Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Another Letter From Cameron


I got a second e-mail from Cameron Parish today. This time from Cindy Pederson who put me in touch with cowboys T-boy, Kent and Cotton. They took me with them as they rounded up cattle and put me in an airboat with T-boy's son in law John driving for a ride through the marsh. I sent the cowboys some photos through Cindy and also told them that another photographer they hosted, Redux's Eros Hoagland (http://www.eroshoagland.com/) had a photo taken in Cameron Parish chosen to one of Time Magazine's photos of the year. Below is the letter.

Hi Justin!!!!!!
Yes-We received the package with the CD of pictures. T-Boy looked over all of them that night before he went to bed and again the next day-and the next. Thanks alot!!!!!!!! "FEMA Round-up funding" has since run out right about the time he came down with the flu. That was last week-but he has recovered this week, especially when one of the area cowboys needed his assistance branding some heifers and catching a "beligerant long-horn bull" that wouldn't stay in the right pasture. He, along with Cotton and Kent, signed up for two and possibly three days of cattle work this week. He was steppin' lively this mornin' feedin' his mount. It was a-bit nippy... 41' in Sweetlake, LA. Supposed to be in the upper 20's this week-end. We realize he seems to do much better when he has outdoor chores to tend to---not so much time to think about all he needs to do to start rebuilding and you know, from the time you spent with him-----he 's not one for a "pitty-party"

I tried to find the pics you said were on the Time.com web site. Found a few. I just have to make time to really look for them better. Keep in touch I'm sending you some of my pics I took at a back-yard BBQ If you make it back down south one day ---let us know --we'll get T-Boy to "roll-a-hog"---BBQ a pig

Letter From Cameron


This morning I received an e-mail from Nanette Daigle, a resident of Cameron Parish who had her house blown away. Nanette and her family are shown on the photo on the left. I was happy to hear from her. I ate gumbo for the first time with her husband James, her two sons, and brother and sister in-law at a Cajun restuarant. Below is the letter.

Hi Justin,
I just visted your site. Congratulations on being published on Private. We had dinner with you at Steamboat Bills and went to theMcNeese Basketball game. I'm Nanette (don't know if you remembered myname), my husband and I are the ones that have the 2 little boys, Tylerand Grant. And James, Grant, and I are in the picture at the resturanton your site.We finally received our insurance settlement but Mr. Berton and Mrs.Audrey (Willie and James's grandparents) received a call yesterday thatthe engineer determined that their home was taken away by the flood andtheir claim was declined. They are cleaning their property and they areready to move back to Cameron. We think we finally found our homeabout 1 mile north of our property in Grand Chenier in the marsh. Theonly thing that is left of the house is the floor, one piece of the wallstuds and the washing machine. The washing machine is still standing onthe floor near it's original place in the house. They guy that foundit took a picture of it and he will be bringing us in an airboat to seeif it's our house. I hope it is, that will give us closure.Good Luck with your publishings and Thank You very much for reportingon our parish. It seems that we have been forgotten.

Thanks Again,James, Nanette, Tyler and Grant Daigle

Monday, February 06, 2006

Work Published in Italy


Ten of my black and white photos from Cameron Parish, La. were published online by Italy's Private Magazine. www.private.com This is the first time I've been published by a publication outside of the United States. I'm very happy that Private published the photos as its been a lot more difficult than I thought it would be to get photos published from Cameron. News-wise the country seems to have moved on. Except for an occasional report from New Orleans we hear virtually nothing about the hurricanes. The story in Cameron is ongoing though and I'm glad these photos have been published. Check them out at:

http://www.privatephotoreview.com/en/photo/pres.php/id_fo/131/id_sez/4/id_pro/1

(Note to editors: I have photos from Cameron Parish online here: www.justinvela.com/photos as well as several additional story ideas if you are interested in sending me back.)

Sunday, February 05, 2006

The Illuminated Ball


Last night I shot Olympia's Illuminated Ball for the local paper The Olympian. The Illuminated Ball is a fundraiser for Olympia's Procession of the Species. www.procession.org

My photos were published online here:
http://community.theolympian.com/gallery/view_album.php?set_albumName=illuminated-ball-2005


I'll stick up a few here also and some that weren't published too.





















Friday, February 03, 2006

Thursday 2 February 2006














Back to Olympia February 2006

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Audio Slideshow Cameron Parish, La

For you editor type folks here is a preview of an audio slideshow of photos I took in Cameron Parish, La. It can be viewed at http://www.justinvela.com/media/vela_slides-web.mov

If you are interested in publishing it get in contact with me at justinvela@justinvela.com

For those of you interested in hearing more about Cameron Parish, La and the slow move towards reconstruction there, you can also e-mail me at justinvela@justinvela.com

Monday, January 23, 2006

Model in Centralia




Today I was in Centralia, WA photographing a model named Lei behind some stores downtown.

We only had an hour, her boyfriend was with her, as well as her dog, Achilles.

Her boyfriend, it must be said, was a very nice and apparently didn't feel threatened by me photographing Lei. Which was good because he was big and played rugby and all I can say is that I most definitely am not and don't.

Lei was a native of Hawaii, but had Cherokee, Irish, and a bit of other blood in her.

She had been in Washington state for only about a year, going to school to be a vet.

Modeling was something she did on the side for a little money and fun when she had time. She'd been modeling on and off since she was 14.

Given the short amount of time we had to shoot in, I blasted away, filling up three 1 gig cards by the time the hour was up.

An old lady watched us from her window, suprised to have people taking pictures in her backyard.

Shooting models is something that I'm new to and will probably not ever be what I am really driven to photograph, but its an interesting avenue to explore occascially.



Sunday, January 22, 2006

Nazism Under the Space Needle



The one Nazi that showed up at the rally under the Space Needle today seemed more confused and lonely than radical and dangerous.

He walked up alone holding an umbrella (something that automatically marks you an outsider in Seattle, a city that scoffs at rain). He also was wearing black leatherboots with red laces, an identifying mark of a skinhead.

He sat down and immediately a counterprotester organizer named Ben who was in his mid forties or early fifties came up and started asking who he was, what he was doing, where he was from.

"Leave me alone," the Nazi said. He looked crinkly browed at the crowd and sniffled.

Ben kept asking him questions and pointed the Nazi out to his fellow counterprotesters.
They all looked at him angrily. The Nazi walked off and sat on the backrest of a bench. He watched the approximately 150 counterprotesters, who had arrived at the Space Needle an hour before the Nazi rally was scheduled to begin, chant various slogans which all basically amounted to: Nazi's get out. You're not welcomed in Seattle.

A group of counterprotesters surrounded the Nazi on the bench and started asking him questions.

He answered calmly, but in a small voice as if he was having trouble speaking loudly.

Where was he from?
LA.
Did he come to Seattle all the way from LA for this?
No. He lived in Seattle now.
Did he consider himself a Nazi?
No. He was a skinhead.
Why did he have a swatsika tattoo then?
He earned the tattoo.
He had a swatsika tattoo, but he wasn't a Nazi?
No.
Did he have any kids?
Yes. He had a little girl who was five.
When she grew up would she be allowed to date black people?
Yes. She could date them. She just couldn't fornicate with them.
Was he a racist?
No. He he didn't hate black people. Just niggers. Niggers were people who pissed him off.
So was a racist?
No. He wasn't. But the counterprotesters were. They were racist against skinheads.
Where did he learn about all this skinhead stuff?
From his brother. He had been hanging out with skinheads since kindergarten.
Where was his brother now?
Iraq.


This went on for awhile. A group of anarchists clad in black wearing bandanas and ski masks assembled in a group behind him. They talked quietly among themselves, seemingly planning the Nazi's fate.

Finally one of the anarchists, a huge twenty-something year old kid with a railroad spike in his belt came up and said that he was a Jew and wanted to talk to the Nazi one on one for a little while. The Nazi got up and walked off with him.

They went around a corner and sat close together on a bench and spoke for about fifteen minutes. When they finished they exchanged phone numbers and shook hands. The Nazi walked off.

The big anarchist with the spike in his belt went over to the other anarchists and told them that the Nazi was just confused. He wasn't even worth kicking the shit out of. Besides there were cops around.

The other anarchists didn't seem to agree though. They took off running after the Nazi.

They ran for about a quarter of a mile through downtown Seattle before cornering the Nazi in front of a liquor store.

The anarchists surrounded him. He hunkered down and looked at the anarchists, sniffling.

The anarchists were telling him to get out of Seattle. To never come back. That he was a fucking Nazi piece of shit. Several of them proclaimed themselves Jews.

A cop car rolled by. It slowed down. The cop saw the anarchists surrounding the Nazi. It didn't stop.

The Nazi began untying his red boot laces. He pulled the laces out of his boots and threw them behind him into a gutter. Then he stood up.

The group of about ten anarchists who had been circling him yelled for him to take off. One of them flung their foot out and kicked him in his butt as the Nazi ran off down the street.

The anarchists yelled a few taunts after him and then congratulated each other for "taking care" of him.

"More of them are coming up here," they said. "We've got to keep them out."

"Check it out," one of the anarchists said. He held up the Nazi's disgarded shoe laces.

"Let's burn them," another anarchist yelled. Lighters were produced. The shoe laces wouldn't catch fire so they were thrown on the ground, stomped and spit on. Then the anarchists walked off, apparently satisfied Nazism had been dealt with in Seattle. At least for today.