School Chaperone

Ever since he was a little boy he had always followed the same routine. Wake up early in the morning, before his mother had a chance to sneak into his room to rouse him, take a nice long, hot shower - letting the water wash away his grogginess, before finishing it up with a bowl of oatmeal. The scent of the cinnamon and apples tickling his nose. Every day this would happen. Like clockwork. Then he'd make his way outside. Wandering along the sidewalk. Down to where the bus would pick him up. Along the way, about halfway to the bus stop he'd pass a large fenced in yard. And every day he would let his hands play along the cast iron bars. Just trailing behind him at first. Bouncing off the metal. Playing a little melody - ringing through the air. Sometimes he would pick up speed, listening to the change in tempo and pitch. Other times he'd slow down and put some force behind his hand, increasing the volume. But regardless of the day, he'd always let his fingers wander to the top of the ironwork. Using them like little legs, he'd run them along the repeating curves and points. Jumping amongst them. Sometimes far enough to skip a set of two. It was simple pleasure. Fun all the way down the fence.

When he got old enough to drive, he stopped walking along the fence every morning and he forgot about his routine. Adopting rather to sleep in and absorb as much rest as he could. When it came time to graduate, he didn't give the iron fence a second thought. He simply packed his things into a few boxes and bags and headed off to college. Ready to start a new chapter in his life. Occasionally, without thinking, he'd find his fingers dancing, running, and jumping across different objects as he walked by. Stairway handrails, windowsills, tables. Apparently old habits were hard to break.

Now he was much older. School had been behind him for some time. He had moved on. Started a new life in a far away city. Let his roots begin to take hold. A career was blossoming. He had met someone. Settled down. Even recently asked the major question. But before that could happen, he had felt the need to bring her to his hometown. Show her where he grew up. Who he had been friends with. See the area that helped shape him as the man she knew today - just as he expected to experience her home sometime in the near future.

By the time they arrived back in his town, it was the evening and she was pretty tired, opting to curl up in bed to rest, catching up with his mother. At first he was disappointed but that quickly passed as he walked out of the front of the house and down the sidewalk. As he continued forward he soaked it all in - allowing the memories to pour back into his mind. The trees he used to climb, where his friends used to live, the fresh crisp air of the mountains. It all came rushing back. And then there it was. Stretching out before him just like it always had. Standing tall and proud. He could tell it had aged. He could see the paint chipping away in spots, the rust shining through, even some of the humps and points were bent ever so slightly. But the moment his figures connected with the metal, all felt right.  He could feel the years against his fingers, but it didn't matter. There was still the 'ping' that resonated from the bars as he let his fingers slap across the bars. As he continued forward, he let his hand slowly wander higher, until his fingers were prancing across the top of the ironwork. It felt right - no longer a memory.

He was glad he old friend was still around.

Ireland: A Recap

Fun facts about the trip: Photos Taken (by me): 3,601

                                      Miles Driven (by me): 1,104

                                      Castles Seen: 17

                                      Guinness's: 13

                                      Distilleries Visited: 3 

First and foremost this was a trip for my mother. Someone who has been through more than anyone else I know in the last couple of years. Witnessing a family dissolve, a financial crisis, having one of her sons move across the country, trying to find a new job in an ever shrinking market - all while trying to finish her doctorate. The latter alone is enough to deserve praise, but she managed to complete it under all the circumstances mentioned above, with poise, grace, and dignity. She's a fighter who refused to give up and made it to her final goal. There is no one else that I know who would be able to pull off what she has done and I will be forever proud of her for doing so.

It only seemed fitting to bring her to the place she always wanted to go, back to her homeland, where her roots were. And to be honest, I don't think there is anyone else that I would have wanted to travel there with. This entire trip was such a decompresser for her. She was able to let it all out. Laugh as often and as loud and she wanted. Experience things she had never done. See places unlike anywhere else. Taste the food her ancestors ate. Smell the crisp Irish air. This was her reward to continuing onward, never giving up.

I'll be blunt. It's been hard living across the country. I miss my friends. My home. My family. I've always had a strong bond with my mother. One that I haven't seen between other parents and their kids. I can't exactly explain it, but it just works. We understand each other and respect each other. We know how we're feeling without saying a word - how to make each other smile and laugh. And the last few years have been hard on both of us, admittedly more so for her, but I felt somewhat useless. A phone call or a random Skype session could only do so much. It had almost been a year since last time I had seen her in person and this trip just rekindled what we had been missing.  Like I said, there really isn't anyone else that I'd want to have traveled the country with. She's like me. Hit the ground running. See a sign for something that looks fun and interesting? Ok cool - lets head there. We'll figure out food and lodging on the way. And for the most part, we were able to do that. Just pack our things into the car and drive out, exploring and learning as we went.

I went into this trip expecting to see someplace I had never been. But the experience was so much richer than that. I'll forever love Ireland and want to go back. It felt like home to me. I was enriched by the entire trip. I experienced a whole new culture, tried new foods, learned to drink Guinness like it was water, laughed until my stomach hurt, fell asleep without a care in the world, awoke each day as eager to explore as the last. And aside from the drinking Guinness part, I know my mom felt the same way. I haven't seen her so happy in such a long time. A smile from ear to ear was constantly on her face. Eyes wide every time we passed a castle, pleading to stop for pictures every time we saw sheep grazing on a hillside (which was about every two minutes). I know this trip was balm for her soul. It was much needed and as I said before, much deserved. But most of all, it was perfect because she got to be with her two sons again, on vacation, in Ireland. I'm just glad my brother and I were able to take her on it.

Congratulations Mom. You deserve it and I'll be forever proud of you for your achievements.

   

My Favorite Place

So tonight was frisbee night. Intense. High octane frisbee. It's official. I joined the LA league and man does it wear me down (in a good way of course). So I'm not going with an elaborate post this evening and probably won't for a few future Mondays until the game schedule changes.

I'll be brief but with heart.

Almost a year ago (actually in July) as you all know, I went on one of my favorite trips ever with a friend of mine and made a stop in Yosemite for a few days. I absolutely fell in love. Everything there is perfect. Prestine. Untouched. You really can't ask for a better wilderness landscape. And on top of that, I hadn't been camping in so long. So it was the perfect scenario.

What am I getting at? Well it's the summer and I want to go back. No. Need to go back. Just look at how beautiful it is.

Yosemite HD from Project Yosemite on Vimeo.


The first video is clearly professionally made. But check out this next one. I'm totally making something like this next time I go.

Yosemite 2013 from Nate Weiner on Vimeo.


I know you're out there, hopefully reading this and smiling watching the videos. What do you say?

Want to go back with me?

Song of the Day (Valley Winter Song) 06.07.13

Well, tuck the first week of June under your belt.

Wooh.

I probably sound like a broken record, but hot damn, time is flying fast. June already? Seriously, when did that happen?

One of the aspects about LA that I hate is June. Literally the whole month. For some reason, the entire month is gloomy - hence titled June Gloom. You wake up and it's dark and cloudy. By the time you get home, it's dark and cloudy. Maybe, just maybe during the day the sun will burn it off for a little bit, but it always comes back. When I first moved out here, I thought I'd like it because it'd remind me of the East Coast and home. But I was nieve. I thought the clouds would bring rain with them - but no. Nothing. Just grey, overcast skies. For a couple days I'm fine with it. Come day fifteen, I'm annoyed with it. By the end of the month, I'm dying for sunshine. Especially since everyone else in LA doesn't know how to deal with it and goes into a month long fit of depression. No lie. People mope about, shoulders slumped, grumpy. It's really weird.

Luckily it's early in the month so I'm appreciating the change in weather. Cruising along in the morning under a blanket of clouds is still nice. But like all weather, a certain type of music is required. So thats why I'm choosing the next song for you. It's mellow. Has a melody that is pure, sweet, and simple. It just flows easily, as if it would be a perfect companion on a rainy or snowy day (I don't mean for that to sound so poetic, but really, the song is perfect for a that kind of weather). Most of you probably have forgotten about this band and only know them for their one hit, "Stacey's Mom," but I assure you, Fountains of Wayne has some real gems in their discography. I'd say they're grossly underrated as a band and I hope that this will invoke you to go out and listen to more of their stuff. Do yourself a favor and kick back and relax a bit to Fountain of Wayne's "Valley Winter Song."

Have a great weekend!

Cinematography Stumped

So you all know my love of time lapse projects. Not only do they look cool, I appreciate the amount of work that is poured into each and every piece. The delicate camera setups, well thought out plans, the time commitment. It really isn't a simple style to shoot, even though it may seem like you can simply set up the camera, turn it on, and walk away. Returning later to have all your footage ready to edit.

If only it were that easy...

As I watched the piece below, I kept finding myself scratching my head. I'll be the first to admit I'm a beginner in the whole process. I've only shot three different pieces (one of which I haven't even published yet) and I'm still experimenting - trying to figure out what is the best strategy for certain types of movements, angles, and subjects. It won't be years until I can even act like I know what I'm doing. What unfolds below if truly breathtaking. And I have the utmost respect for the man who shot it. I'll break it down for you a few ways.

1.) The overall picture quality is stunning. Everything is exposed correctly, nothing is over saturated. And think about it - for the hours that it is captured, as the sun rises, clouds pass by, and it becomes night, the exposure/f-stop and aperture have to all be adjusted to maintain that picture quality. How this is done without changing the framing of the shot is ridiculous.

2.) The time commitment. This piece obviously wasn't shot in one day. Probably not even in one week. I'd still be astonished if it was shot in under a month. Look at all the locations featured. Atop buildings, on boats, inside taxi cabs. No portion of Shanghai was spaired. You're getting a full, in depth tour of the city.

3.) Reasons one and two alone are noteworthy, but the part that truly amazes me is the camera movement. I can work out how he jumps between angles and shots (thats just creative editing), but how he manages to track cars, passing boats, and pedestrians with such precision is beyond me. It's not like there is some program that will automatically track each subject for him. He has to manually follow, for instance, the cab on the freeway, snapping enough photos. This alone seems like a lot of work, but then keep in mind, since these are all still photos, he has to keep the cab in focus the whole time, adjusting for each individual shot. I've never seen so much camera movement in a time lapse before and as a result, my mind is blown.

I have a grasp on everything else, since I've done it myself (walking down streets, riding in a car, focusing on people doing everyday tasks, etc), but as a whole, this is an amazing piece.

I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. Oh - and consider Shanghai on my list of cities to visit.

Day Six: Giants Causeway, Bushmills. and the North and East Coast(s)

To quickly fill you in, the prior night we drove from the west coast all the way across the country towards Dublin, eventually turning north, to drive along the east coast to reach Belfast and our hotel which was in a smaller town right outside the city limits. By the time we had gotten to the hotel, I was pretty spent from the day of driving (even got pulled over/escorted by a police office at one point because our GPS stopped working) so I wandered down to the bar with madre and had a pint before crawling into bed and falling right asleep.

Waking up, we packed our things into the car (yet again) and off we went. Farther north, toward the coast, passing through the town of Bushmills (which we'll get back to), eventually reaching the water and our first destination, Giants Causeway. Even before we reached Ireland, both my mother and I decided this was one of the "must see" spots for the trip. We had both heard from our own sources that it was something that couldn't be missed. And boy - were they right. Giants Causeway has to be one of the most beautiful places I have ever been in my life. It's this strip of coastline that has amazing vistas, cliffs, and unique geographic formations, which you'll see below. For any of you who aren't familiar with the story, this is where Finn MacCool resided (and old Irish loire about a giant - totally worth looking up). We had the option to take a bus tour, but we decided to walk it. Down through the hills, past these beautiful flowers that had thousands of black flies buzzing about them - massive swarms that just hung lazily n the air, never bothering us. Looping around the path, we eventually made it to the main spot, where over millions of years, rocks had formed into columns. About 40,000 in all - resulting from a volcanic eruption. It was absolutely amazing how unique each was, but still managed to fit together, like a massive puzzle that formed thousands of stairs. It was unlike something I've ever seen. The air was fresh and pure. The ocean was crashing at our feet. The sun was sneaking through the clouds. It was a perfect as one could ask for.

When we felt like we had soaked in as much as we could, we walked back up to the car and made our way back into town to tour the Bushmill's Whiskey Factory. I'll preface this with that they did not allow electronics to be on during the tour, so I couldn't take any pictures. Why you ask? Because they are still brewing and distilling on location unlike Jameson or Guinness so there is a fire hazard with all the alcohol in the air.

By far this was my favorite tour. Not only because Bushmill's is my favorite whiskey, but because we got to see everything as it happened. We got to smell and feel the barley, watch it churn in the mash tun, mix with yeast, breath in the alcohol vapors in the distilling room, see the thousands of oak barrels in the storeroom, and of course, sample the whiskey. I could fill you in on all the fund facts (founded officially in 1608, world's oldest distillery, etc) but I'll let you do the research on your own. Overall, it all just felt alive. Workers were doing their thing, the grounds were bustling. It didn't feel like it was a show. It honestly felt like we just happened to be walking through as a normal day happened. Which, compared to the other tours, was special.

Climbing back into the car, we headed out for our trip and final night back in Dublin. I made a executive decision because I was driving and chose to drive along the coast, stopping wherever I saw fit. One of which being the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge (which is easily missable if you don't look out for the signs). It's a rope bridge that spans 66ft between the mainland and an island, hanging 98ft above the water. To be honest, there isn't mush else to do in the area besides walk along a small set of cliffs and eventually cross the bridge onto the island, but again, like anywhere else we went in Ireland, it was just stunningly beautiful. Mom was a little freaked out crossing it both times, but managed fine and loved the experience (hell, she even got to see some puffins along the way).

After we were done at the bridge, we kept driving along the coast for some time, through hills, farms, a pine forest (all of which you'll see in the video), until we finally met back up with the highway and continued down to Dublin.

Once there, we checked into our hotel for the last night.

So so sad.

Day Five: The Cliffs of Moher

When the three of us awoke Friday morning, we had a slight dilemma on our hands. Originally, we had booked through the website Airbnb to stay in an "Irish Cabin" but upon arrive late the night before, found it to really be much more of a converted garage. There was nothing special about it. Nothing unique. No charm. Realistically, there was nothing notable about it at all. So we decided to pack up our things and continue on our way, choosing to not stay the second night and figure out a place to sleep as we were driving.

We waisted absolutely no time, hightailing it out of Gort and heading towards the western coast to see the world famous Cliffs of Moher. The drive out was spectacular enough. Following the winding road along the coast (of course making stops along the way). Amongst large dunes, passing through little seaside villages, along wind-swept gold courses, until finally pulling into the complex for the cliffs.

After a short walk we were on the edge and my breath was stolen from my body. People had told me they were spectacular. Huge. Vertigo inducing. I had never experienced something quite like this other than the Grande Canyon, yet this was different because out in front of me was just the abyss of the ocean. I saw no other land. Nothing to give me a perception of how high the cliffs really are (the highest point is actually 702 ft). It was humbling seeing anit-suicide signs lining the edges of the cliffs and the walls built to keep people away. But it was also surprising to see that after a certain distance in either direction, the walls just ended, allowing you to wander out as close to the cliff as one dared. Needless to say, I got pretty close for some photos, but never close enough that I felt in danger. We walked around for a bit, doing the touristy things. Posing. Soaking in the sights. Hiking up to O'Brien Tower (where my mom was just smitten). Overall, we were probably there for a couple hours before walking back to our little Nissan to continue the day.

From the cliffs, we decided to make a quick trip through Galway which is as cute as can be. It had the same feeling as Dingle in the sense that it was on the water, but it was much bigger, with more energy, and a more modern vibe. People were out and about drinking, eating, laughing. Unfortunately we were only able to walk around for a while before climbing back into the car and making our way back across the country towards Dublin, before turning north, to make out way to Belfast.

Our goal for the next day was to see Giants Causeway and Bushmills, so in order to save some time we decided spending most of Friday driving instead of Saturday made sense.

And yes - in retrospect, I know this post is pretty short. Mainly because we spent so much time in the car rather than out of it.

Next stop: Northern Ireland and the UK.

Day Four: Ring of Kerry, Dingle, and Gort

Day four was upon us. We awoke in our lovely little Bed and Breakfast, to a wonderful meal provided by our host Kathy (Bangers, Fried Eggs, Pudding, Beans, Toast, Coffee, Tea, and assorted cereals...yum). We ate up, cleaned up, packed up, and headed out the door to begin the day's adventure.  And it was to be the first real day of driving (7+ hours in the car).

Our first stop...well, multiple stops, was the Ring of Kerry. For those of you not familiar, it is a loop in Southern Ireland that showcases all the natural beauty that one would expect to see in Ireland. Lush, green forests, flowing waterfalls, lakes set against towering mountains, old castles and churches, sheer cliffs, farms with hundreds of sheep. The whole shebang. The best part about it though was being able to drive it at our own pace, without any worry about a tour group rushing us past certain stops or directing us somewhere we didn't have much interest. And to say it was beautiful would be the understatement of the year. It was beyond gorgeous. Vistas and views unlike anything I had ever seen. Truly awe inspiring. Dublin had impressed me and won me over. But this was what I had come to Ireland to see.

After putzing around on the Ring of Kerry for a bit, we finally decided to leave the route and head out onto one of Ireland's Western Peninsula's, towards the little sea town of Dingle. After talking to Paige at the start of the trip, we decided it seemed like a nice place to stop on our way to Galway/Gort. But before we got there, we needed to adventure out onto some very "local" roads. Here we met some tiny streets, very large mountains, cliffs, and high winds. I can't remember the name of it off the top of my head, but one of the passes we drove through was absolutely one of my favorite parts of the trip. I can't even really describe it, so I'll let the following pictures speak for themselves. But it was just unbelievable and I couldn't believe that I was actually driving through it. Sheer rock walls on my left and hundred foot cliffs to my right.

Once me made it to the other side of the mountains, the world just opened up to the beautiful Atlantic Ocean. We stopped a few times to soak in the views. Walking down to the beaches. Breathing in the salty air, feeling the sand whip against our skin from the gusting wind. Certainly nothing like here in America (and yes - I creeped on an old lady a little bit. But she was damn cute).

We eventually made it to Dingle and while we couldn't stay for too long, we had a blast. I loved everything about that little town. For anyone who has been to a little, quaint, New England fishing town like Portsmouth, imagine that times 1000x. Dingle felt so close to home for me. Yes - I understand that New England took almost all of its heritage from the UK (hence the name) but I didn't feel like a tourist there. I had always been raised near the water, so seeing the wharfs, hearing the seagulls, smelling the fish and salt in the air, it all felt natural and comforting. The town itself was picturesque. Nestled into a bay, surrounded by water and fishing vessels. To be honest it was perfect and I wish we had more time there to experience it to the fullest. But on to Gort we went, to check into our abode for the night and rest ourselves for the following day of Cliffs, Galway, and eventually Belfast.