david schrott is everywhere

the path forward

Posted in Uncategorized by thebreakfastdictator on 02/17/2018

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There are these deep resentments inside of me that I’ve found by un-earthing just a little bit below the surface. And there are these tendencies and trends in my life that I don’t understand how they came to be. Many days, I act like a 37 year old infant and it struck me the other day – this is not normal for a properly developed man of my age. I dig down in my memory and wonder what happened that kept me in such a child like state? I don’t know, but I’ve always had younger friends – when I was in college, I’d come home for the summer and play whiffle ball with kids who were in high school and middle school. In HS, I always got a long with the class that was one year younger than me than with my class. And even now, so many of my friends are younger and single… what in the world?

I was thinking about my earliest competent photos and so many of them were laden with a deep resentment, even hatred of women (I’m assuming because I always had trouble with dating, but it could have been something else!). Those resentments faded over time and women became idolized – the zenith of humanity, sinless in everything they did, while men themselves were more lowly of a creature. (There is a lot to be said for this given our current political moment!). I wonder how these ideas became so powerful in me.

I was an arrogant photographer and it was bourne out of the fact that I knew I was skilled and saw those others who were lesser skilled as somehow less human. And then when I wasn’t able to secure jobs, my arrogance turned to self-loathing. But now, I can see that I was skilled and that I was not a good marketer and that there is something to be done about both. I’m never going to be a professional photographer, but I can do my best to bring a little beauty to the world that is so full of apathy and nihilism. So that is the goal. And it is the goal to see men and women differently too. Women are not perfectly benevolent and men are not perfectly tyrannical. There is balance to both of those extremes and to live in the extremes is to give in to the poison of the trendy Satanic lie that women are more than men.

And so here we go.

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all of the big & little beautiful things in life

Posted in B&W Photography, family, Uncategorized by thebreakfastdictator on 12/14/2017

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Callie’s first train ride

Posted in philadelphia by thebreakfastdictator on 07/14/2017

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We took the train to Philly back in May. Trains will forever and always be better than cars. I love Kodak Tri-X.

Light leaks, dust, and Je’m.

Posted in family, Lancaster by thebreakfastdictator on 04/03/2014

 

Je'm + Lucky

Je’m + Lucky

In my advanced photo class we learned how to let go a little bit; to be okay with light-leaks, film scratches, soft focus, bleached prints. I had a really hard time with some of that. I enjoyed messing up the print since the prints were easily reproducible. But I detested the idea of ruining the negative and sometimes I’d shoot an entire roll (12 images) of pretty much the exact same thing. Just in case. I barely do that anymore, but I still dust things obsessively and fear shooting all of my expired film because “what if I get a really good shot and ________?!”

I guess the world would end if that happened, wouldn’t it?

The film came back from the lab today and this photo was my favorite. It has a giant light leak across it (no idea how that happened). And when you shoot film, you can’t undo the light-leak like Afterlight or Snapseed tells you that you can.

And that’s okay.

Lighten up, David.

Winter 2014

Posted in Lancaster by thebreakfastdictator on 02/11/2014
January 2014

January 2014

This winter reminds me oh-so-much of the winter of my Junior year of college (2003). During my Junior project classes, the temperatures barely got above 20 and there was perpetual snow on the ground. This made it rather difficult to proceed with my figures in landscapes style of work that I was doing at the time. We tried once – on an 8 degree day. I don’t think we even made it through a roll of film that day.  A friend of mine hooked me up with a few indoor locations in downtown Lancaster and we got to shoot in the relatively warm (and snowless) interiors that was quite magnificent.

The above photo was shot at dusk a few Saturdays ago after a light snowstorm breezed through Central Pennsylvania. This scene was no where as light as the image makes it look. It was basically dark out. And yet it seems to capture this winter in its essence – blue, frigid, snowy.

There are plants in the potters in the basement. Spring is close. And it can’t come soon enough.

Rooster Street Finals

Posted in B&W Photography, Farm Life, Lancaster by thebreakfastdictator on 12/26/2013

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Burning Bridges

Posted in B&W Photography, Lancaster by thebreakfastdictator on 11/26/2013

Columbia, Somewhere; New Year’s Day 2007

There’s this place we love to go to. It’s three full stories of miniature and maxiature treasures. Some from the recent past and others of a time we can’t even conceive of; a time when photographs were printed on metal. In our minds this place only exists in black and white and the days are always foggy. The temperature may be a tick above uncomfortable. The silence here on these grey-grainy days is only half deafening. How can silence be deafening anyways?

2004 was nine years ago. But somehow in the slow-paced glaze of our minds, nine years moves more like nine minutes. Memories are still crisp of long hours of plaster-patching and coffee-getting during the dank winter days, punctuated by five-hundred watt light bulbs and winding trips through the gridded industrial streets. The Dodge was warm and comforting after these slavish days; shoes came off, then socks, and our toes and aching feet massaged themselves into the floorboard carpets. The cold concrete carefully caressed countless aches and pains up our feet and into our legs, backs and shoulders. Few things felt better than reclining in the plush passenger side seat, dreaming of a hot shower and conversing of the day’s events while listening to Bob’s conservative commentary.

Cross North Third street and head toward the river; the deadly river. Stand on the bridge that replaced the one the Yankees burned in 1863. Feel the cool winter air in your lungs? Breathe deeper. Inhale the grey fog. It is intoxicating; the camera and thirty-five millimeter film agree. The gravel crunches under rubber soles and we meander under the great pillars. There is a rumble here and there as the delivery trucks stumble into position. The tracks lie ahead of us and they foretell of a summer two years future, standing on a different bridge spanning the same deadly river. The narrows there is straight and long and the Volkswagen hits one-hundred on it. We park and carry our bag of golf balls (hundreds of yellow driving range balls) and baseball bats. The moon lights the expansive evening and each clang of the metal bat signals another ball entering the steamy summer night and plunking in the river a few hundred feet below. We do this for hours on end. Time is no enemy here and our youthfulness seems eternal.

In the distance there is a bellowing train whistle. We stop our midnight antics to gaze at the mighty muscle of the freight train. It pulls (or pushes?) thousands of feet of cumbersome cars. “How long is this thing?” we wonder. Its length is un-remitting and its destination unknown. Finally, the giant metal snake grinds into the horizon, the whistle fades and we settle back into our batting practice. Though the night feels everlasting, weariness sets in, the Volkswagen carries us home and the summer carries on.

Power Lines and Fog; New Year’s Day 2007

It’s January 1, 2007 and again we are here in this grey and struggling little river town. The fog is thicker than any day of recent memory and the temperature closes in on sixty. Since those grindy grey days of winter past, we have picked up cigarettes and not put them down for any real length of time. Our lungs remind us of this and the fat Camels we had the night before. A small camera sits on the back seat with a lonely roll of film next to it. These are fog photos pre-Instagram; pre-hashtag. The little city is beautiful on this soft day.

We carry our cameras there to write with light. There is no color. And let us tell you, few things are finer.

David Dietz. York, Pennsylvania

Posted in Farm Life, Fine Living Lancaster by thebreakfastdictator on 08/30/2013
David Dietz. Peasant at Large.

David Dietz. Peasant at Large.

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Posted in B&W Photography, Lancaster, Personal Work by thebreakfastdictator on 08/28/2013

Michael.

Elizabeth.

film is beautiful

Posted in B&W Photography, Lancaster, Personal Work by thebreakfastdictator on 08/19/2013