Louisville Party This Saturday

Just wanted to drop a line and invite my Kentucky and Ohio friends to what is going to be a large party on Saturday, June 27, in Louisville.

I'm one of about 40 or 50 artists who will be displaying just a couple of pieces at "Dreams: A Journey Within," an event being put on by a new group of artists with big plans for future events like this one around the midwest.

I was very flattered when Will Sieg asked me to participate, and I was further pleased when many of you took the time to answer my call for feedback a few weeks ago. I've already shipped my three pieces to Louisville. Come on out on the 27th and see which ones you helped me pick!

Also, my good friend Jason Buroker, who is going to be huge some day with his phospherescent pieces, will be coming down from Cincinnati to set up a dark-room display for you to ooh and aah at his glow-in-the-dark work.

This ain't your typical, quiet, boring, polite art show. There will be lots to drink, fire-eating freaks and at least a dozen musical acts over the eight-hour event. All for just $5 at the Ice House on Main Street near downtown Louisville. Peep the site below for details, and tell everybody you know:

The Art Cartel

OK, hope to see all of you on the 27th.

Dreams

It's been a long minute since I posted here. Sorry to both of you.

But once again, I need your feedback. Please click here to see what I'm talking about.

You can send me a direct email from the link that's on the page I'm linking to above. Or you can leave your comments right here. Either way, just let me know your thoughts.

Thanks so much.

Shooting With Meg

Meg is a beautiful southern gal who just got into modeling this year here in New York. After we met, I told her I'd love to shoot her for practice, and I reminded her countless times before we actually shot that I'm a complete rookie with portraits and indoor/studio lighting. But she needed some free pictures anyway, so we're kind of doing each other a favor. What you see below is from our first couple hours together. We plan to shoot again soon.

Keep in mind I'm trying to learn lighting and I'm not re-touching the images, so these are far from what a casting director would see for her. Someone on Meg's team will surely fix these up in Photoshop, but not much. She's quite striking.

Remember this shoot with Swarna? She's also a beautiful gal, but that was my first time shooting anyone and I knew absolutely nothing about lighting. I feel like I knew a little bit more before shooting Meg, and even since I shot her, I've picked up a few new tips, so I'm looking forward to my next shoot.

And finally, please let me know what you think. Thanks a lot.

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Weekend Recap: Cincinnati/Louisville Visit

Sorry I've been MIA. I know both of you were hoping to read about my trip last week. It was my fourth trip in six weeks, so I was finally a little wiped out and I've been sick a few days now. But I'm feeling better now, thank you very much, so here are some details:

Thursday, Oct. 2 -- Landed in Dayton and once again my midsize car-rental reservation was "upgraded" to a Jeep Liberty. I felt like a sissy, but the vehicle would come in handy later.

Drove down to Cincinnati and prepped for my speech at my college alma mater, the University of Cincinnati. I spoke to about 40 people, most of them students. I began my presentation at about 6:30 p.m., and talked about what I do, new media, covering the conventions and of course my arrest at the RNC. I also showed some video clips from both conventions and took questions throughout. It lasted two hours before things broke up into a short hello period, and I was out the door a little after 9 p.m.

One thing I was pleased to have gotten off my chest was an apology nearly 15 years in the making. When I got an internship right after college, my first project required me to solicit area businesses for gift donations for a promotion we were having. I got more than I needed, so guess who's pocket the UC-UK football tickets and Lexington hotel rooms went in?

My boys and me probably would have gotten away with it if one of them would have cleaned up after throwing up in his room. He told me he threw up as our three-car caravan was pulled over on the side of Interstate 75 on a Sunday morning ... with two of our guys ... throwing up. There may have been some drinking involved.

Anyway, word got back to my unofficial UC mentor, Jon C. Hughes. And the next time I called him for advice or a request for him to put a good word in somewhere, he called me out for that. I felt terrible, and until last Thursday, hadn't seen him since. So in front of this crowd of young, impressionable minds, I came forth with a sincere apology, and he politely claimed he didn't remember it, but was thankful nonetheless.

Hughes also was the one responsible for me using my middle initial in my byline the last 15 years. When you have monosyllabic first and last names, as he and I both do, he said you're more likely to be remembered if you break up your boring name with that middle initial. Consequently, some have thought of me as arrogant, while others have called me by a variety of names: JP, John P, JPW, JP Wise, P Wise and sometimes even, just P.

Anyway, I was going to stick around and watch the VP debate with the group, but instead I had to hit The Avenue Lounge to talk logistics about my photography show the next night.

Of course after meeting with the bar's very cool owner, Richard, I met up with old dude Chad (pictured here in 2007) in Covington for a couple pops.

Friday, Oct. 3 -- I spent much of the day setting up at The Avenue. I should have taken a picture of the wall before and after. When I got there in the morning, that huge "The Pad" sign was on the brick wall. The Pad is the name of the strip club that once called The Avenue's location home years ago. It is obviously no longer a strip club.

But by mid-afternoon, I had eight 20x24 frames hanged on the wall where that sign was, and of course I had a bunch of other matted prints available for sale.

The event was a good one. Good friends showed up, the bar was crowded and I sold a fair amount of pieces. Even rifle-toting Local12 reporter and all-around nice guy Rich Jaffe attended, despite having been bitten by a raccoon just hours earlier. Rich, handy with a gun from his years of being an avid hunter, gave me a slick confirmation when I asked if he killed the raccoon, which minutes earlier had attacked the Jaffes' dog. "Oh, yeah, I killed it," he said proudly, his left hand wrapped in gauze.

Also showing up were good friends Guy and Amanda van Rooyen. While I was content to hang with friends on the outside patio, Amanda said to me, "For someone who's as people-friendly as you are, you're terrible at sales." She's right. And as a result, she's asked me to promise to let her do some marketing and planning -- perhaps some selling -- next time I have a show. Stay tuned for my upcoming holiday sales drive. Perhaps Amanda will force you to buy something.

It was also good to connect with a bunch of gals from my UC days, just a week before Homecoming. I wish I could go back this weekend, as those wacky Tri-Delts seem to have some fun stuff lined up. My hair hasn't receded too terribly and I don't have a gut, so maybe I should still think about a last-minute flight. Perhaps I could rock the shelf haircut, my soccer sweatshirt and some pegged jeans and use awful lines on Kim Roberts, among others.

Saturday, Oct. 4 -- The first half of this day sucked. I spent several hours breaking everything down, re-wrapping the framed pieces and re-packing them in the boxes. Then, I drove them over to the van Rooyens' house, where they will remain until my next show in that area. Thanks, Guy and Amanda! And thanks also to Dollar Rent-A-Car for the upgrade. That Liberty was helpful in allowing me to transport those larger boxes.

I finally checked out of my hotel and got on the road to Louisville at about 4:30 p.m. I was headed to John Boel's house to watch the OSU-Wisconsin game. I'm a Bucks guy and he's a Wisconsin native and die-hard Badgers fan.

I stopped and picked up one of those 5-liter mini kegs of Coors Light. Emphasis on the word "mini," as we killed that thing I think before the game even started.

A handful of old friends showed up, Boel grilled some brats and there was way too much beer available. Mike D. showed up with a sixer of Rhinelander for $1.99. "As soon as I walked into the store, I saw a sign for a 12-pack of Rhinelander for $3.99," said Mike D., who as long as I've known him has been adept at finding great beer bargains. When I relayed his quote to my friend Pat the next day, he said, "Why didn't he buy the whole 12-pack?" Good question.

After Boel's gathering, I rolled back to St. Matthews and met up with some friends at Brendan's, where things continued to get ugly.

Sunday, Oct. 5 -- If you're 38 and you have to play flag football early on a Sunday morning, make sure you wake enough with enough time to re-hydrate, drive to the location and stretch. I did none of these things. After rolling out of bed at 10:45 a.m., getting in the Liberty 10 minutes later and arriving for the 11 a.m. game at about 11:15 a.m., I was rushed into the starting lineup because of my combination of speed and athleticism.

But about five minutes in, something happened to my lower left back and I wasn't quite the same player. Instead of being quietly mediocre, I was a glaring non-factor. A little while after the back injury, the inside of my upper left leg -- not my groin or quad or hammy; I have no idea what muscle this was -- started to get pretty sore. And this was before my one touch of the game where I caught a pass and gained about 20 yards when I thought I'd run for about 80 actually.

OK, so I'm out of shape and that game sucked, but the rest of the day was outstanding. My boy Pat and me rolled down to the very well-known St. James Court Art Show in old Louisville, then up to Wick's for the world's best pizza and a few beers. The most gorgeous friend I have, Alli, came up to say hello for an hour or two with her girlfriend Kaci, and before I knew it, it was, well, later, and I was once again overserved.

Monday, Oct. 6 -- Drove to Dayton to fly back home and by the time I got to the airport, it was clear I was going to be sick for a few days. Traveling is great, for sure, but I'd hate to do it for a living. I'd been in airports and on airplanes more weekends than not the last 40 days, and I'd finally picked up enough germs to slow me down.

So I've spent much of this week pounding chicken soup and orange juice, and looking forward to catching up on sleep this weekend. And once I recover, you can bet your ass I'm putting the running shoes back on, because being old and out of shape sucks.

LA Trip, September 2008

I found a new free slideshow tool, so just wanted to show a few pictures of my LA trip last week. We've got the Santa Monica bubbles, Kim Kardashian, my sister Missy, Malibu and the Walt Disney Concert Hall. Enjoy:

Make a Free Flash Slideshow

Last Call: Summer Photography Sale

This is your final chance to contribute to the Summer Photography Sale. Click here for details on this oustanding offer that ends Friday.

Summer Photography Sale

My last call to the printer for this summer will take place this week. Get my original photography/photostrations while you can:

My Summer Photography Sale

More All-Star Weakness

I used to think ESPN celebrated itself far too much, but this is ridiculous. MLB has given itself an erection about its great players, past and present. Do we really need nearly 40 minutes of introductions?

Anyway, these current and former baseball greats participated in a -- you guessed it, lengthy -- parade up Sixth Avenue Tuesday afternoon. My pictures are at the bottom of this story on MyFoxNY.com.

2008 Belmont Stakes

I enjoy the horses. I enjoy betting on them and photographing them.

So I lugged my gear, including a rented 400mm telephoto, out to Belmont Park for what many had hoped was going to be a great day in the sport. Big Brown had a chance to become the first Triple Crown winner in 30 years, but as we all know now, he just ran out of gas.

>> Slideshow: Images From The Belmont

I've shot five Kentucky Derbys, but this was my first Belmont. Even when I know the lay of the land, as I do around Churchill Downs, there are always some curveballs that call for the need to improvise. I feel like I'm good at rolling with the punches. Saturday, however, was a fiasco in many ways.



The first Penn Station train to Belmont was scheduled to leave at 9:59 a.m. I got there at about 9:20 a.m., thinking that would be plenty of time. I was wrong. As I was in line, I heard an "all aboard" call that I thought was for Belmont, so I hurried downstairs with the masses. Again I was wrong, but the train dude said no worries, I can get on the train he was standing next to, and advised me to get off at Jamaica, then buy a ticket to Belmont. "It's cheaper to do it that way, and I'm in a good mood this morning," he said.

Little did I know it was going to take 30 years to find the ticket office once I got to Jamaica, and of course the automated machines weren't working, so as I waited in line, I missed the train to Belmont. The next one would push through in 30 minutes.

Once I got to the park, I bumped into the excellent Louisville-based columnist Pat Forde, who guided me to the media elevator for which I'd previously spent a good half hour looking. Of course, the media credentials were elsewhere, so I spent another 30 minutes looking and asking, but I finally got it and was ready to find my free boxed lunch in the photographers' room.

I chowed my lunch, ran down to the track, marked my spot along the rail, and then walked around some. When I lived in Louisville, I'd become quite familiar with Churchill Downs, but Belmont Park probably demanded just as much walking. This place was huge.

But because I'd rented a lens, I didn't horse around too much between races. I stayed close to my spot on the rail so I could watch the 10 races leading up to the big one, shooting and testing and sampling.

I was able to catch one horse, the No. 7 in the sixth race, freak out for some unknown reason in the moments after competing (see the video above). Perhaps it was the 90-plus degree heat. But his handlers were spraying him with cool water and trying to calm him down. And just when it seemed they'd turned the trick, he'd buck and bounce some more, turning nearby fans into eyewitnesses. Many compact cameras were raised high in the air until the horse finally did relax and decide it was time to play nice, head back up the tunnel and call it a day.

Shortly later, back at my post on the outside rail alongside the real photographers, I'd struck up a conversation with one of them. I noticed a twang, and sure enough, he was from Louisville and we had some mutual friends. Ted Tarquinio was stumped on why I couldn't extend the telephoto lens, but told me not to be nervous about asking another pro nearby, even though some of these guys can be fairly pompous. "Dude, so what, you're here to get your one good shot, and you'll never see this guy again," Ted said.

But Jeff Snyder wasn't pompous. He was cool, and figured out my lens, and then told me he works for the fine folks who rented me my lens. Small world.

So I tested some more stuff, and got ready for the big race, which was fast approaching. And my shirt was soaked. I hit the clubhouse and the paddock and another spot here and there. Good buddy John Charlton was busy saying hi to Shaquille O'Neal, David Hasselhoff, Steve Guttenberg and Bo Derek, all while I was down on the rail working on my farmer's tan. Steve Guttenberg! Why couldn't I have been there?

I bought my tickets -- 10 $1 winners on Big Brown that I was not going to cash; instead I'd planned to frame and give as gifts to friends in the event of a Big Brown victory -- including a couple of $2-across-the-board bets on some longer shots. Then I was in for the long haul.

The race was pretty uneventful, actually. Big Brown was a big disappointment. He just ran out of gas. I didn't really get the picture I was hoping for Saturday. I honestly got nothing worthwhile.

So knowing that trying to get on a train after the race was just a ridiculous fantasy, I cooled my heels and waited to catch up with some friends. Charlton, who'd just bought my car two months ago, was on his way to meet me, and I was also trying to say hello to Fred Cowgill, who, despite the disgusting, daylong heat, was still wearing a crispy shirt with sleeves fully extended and the knot of his tie all the way up to the neck. How did he do that for 12 hours?

On the way back to the car, we passed ESPN star Chris Fowler, who as host of "College Football GameDay" has the best job in the business ... by far. I got a good laugh from him when I told him I was in need of his mother's lemon meringue pie recipe.

Years ago, back when a roommate and I used to have late-night parties, we'd call ESPN after many beers and ask to talk to their on-air people. We got through with surprising ease. But one night we got Fowler's voice mail and the outgoing greeting went something like this: "Press 1 to leave me a voice mail, press 2 to return to the operator, press 3 for my checking account number and press 4 for my mother's lemon . . . " Funny dude, he is.

But that was the last laugh of the night. When I parted from Charlton and his crew, two hours after the big race had ended, there were still thousands of people waiting for trains. So I called Charlton, who despite dreading a long drive back to Hartford, Conn., offered to take me somewhere not too out of the way for him, like Queens, where I'd get on a train and find my way home.

So I met him at his shuttle bus, and once we got off the bus near his car, I realized I'd left my cell phone on it, so I hustled over there, and once I returned and started to walk away, I realized that while I was looking for the phone, I'd set my monopod down and left it. So I ran back and got it.

We piled into Charlton's car, which was mine until eight weeks ago, and headed for the interstate. They dropped me at a corner that reminded me of the East St. Louis neighborhood where Clark Griswold took his family for an impromptu drive two decades ago.

Once I got into the train station, guess who didn't have his wallet? Thankfully, Charlton was only a half block away, so I hurried back down to retrieve the wallet. I later realized my ballcap was in his car. I left four things behind in two hours, but got three of them back. Charlton can't find my baseball hat, and I have no idea where it is.

So I got back to the warm apartment at about 10 p.m. and there were certainly cold beers in the fridge. The television told me that on the day horse racing history was almost made, one of its biggest fans, sports TV pioneer Jim McKay had died at 87.

And in other bad news, friend Mike Budenholzer was passed over for the Phoenix Suns' head coaching job.

Big Crown?

I've shot six Kentucky Derbys, but this Saturday could be the most important day at the track for me, and I'm nowhere near Louisville, where I definitely know my way around Churchill Downs.

Saturday, I'll be shooting the Belmont Stakes on a day where Big Brown is expected to be the first horse to win the Triple Crown in 30 years.

I don't know what to expect at Belmont Park, but if it's anything like Churchill on Derby Day, it will be difficult to use the cell phone. If I can get a signal, though, then you should sign up for my Twitter updates.

Just click that link above, then search "John P. Wise" or "jpwise," then figure out how to "Follow" me. I'll be sending updates throughout the day as long as there is cellular reception.

And lastly, one of the things I do at work is use AP photos or those of my own and add text to them. We use posters like this for several of our bigger stories each day. That explains the image above.

NYC Crane Collapse

Not long after I heard about the Manhattan crane collapse this morning, my boss and I agreed I should go up there and shoot it. By the time I got there, unfortunately, cops were in a-hole mode and not allowing a whole lot of photographers too close. I take that back; they do have to keep things secure and allowing media free reign is not their top priority.

I did get a few shots, but they're all from a block away, so while I wish I could give you something closer, this is all I've got.

But I will tell you I followed some dude up the elevator in a Marriott right across from the site (91st and 1st), and when he asked me what floor after he hit 15, I said I'll go to 15 as well. He got a little suspicious, but then when I told him what I was up to, he suggested I try the roof.

Considering the hotel's location, I would have had the money shot if it wasn't for that huge red "DO NOT ENTER" sign on the inside of the door leading to the roof, but I didn't risk it.

And for those keeping score at home, this is just a few blocks from my apartment, and today's collapse was the second one on the Upper East Side in three months.

Here are the rest of the pictures.

Brooklyn Bridge Turns 125

Good friends Kelly and Timm let me come to their cool place in DUMBO Thursday night to shoot the fireworks celebrating the Brooklyn Bridge's 125th birthday.

I've shot better fireworks before, but I had pretty much free reign during Thunder Over Louisville in 2006. Thursday night, the Manhattan backdrop was far more dramatic, but I had a pair of obstructions. If I swiveled my tripod too far to the south, in order to capture more of the bridge, I got the corner of the rooftop cabana next to the one our small group was in. And if I tried to lower the swivel and show more of the East River, to add some colorful reflections on the water, the outer edge of the rooftop crept into the frame.

So please keep those two facts in mind when viewing. Other than that, enjoy!

My First Photo Shoot

OK, so I've been saying for a year how I've been ready to start doing portraits. I bought a slightly-better-than-a-beginner's light set and I have a black backdrop that I've nailed into my living-room wall.

Good friend Swarna, an aspiring TV reporter, needs some head shots. After months of talking about it, she finally became my first victim Monday.

Now this is where you come in. We're trying to figure out which head shot(s) to use.

I took about 160 shots in four hours or so. Most of them were straight-up head shots, but there were a few from the waist up and a handful of 3/4 shots. Below are eight face shots. Let me know which one(s) you favor. Oh, and one last item that should let you know how well I know my audience: Obscene commentary will obviously not be posted. And disclaimer number two: there might be a renegade shadow here or there that I might have missed. Again, this is my first shoot, and I'm far from a lighting expert.

Thanks for your help.

Holiday Photography Sale

Sorry for the obnoxious spam on Thursday, but in case you were the one person in North America who didn't get it, I'm trying to raise some money for a new camera and some other things in 2008, so here's a link to my holiday photography sale. Thanks for your support!

Review: My Party

I still wouldn't call myself an artist, but I think I took a pretty positive step Saturday night.

I hosted a party at my apartment last night to display and sell my photography. It was my first such "opening," if you will. I sent the evite out to about 90 people, hoping a third would show up. Some replied that they'd come, and didn't show up, but others who didn't reply did end up visiting, so things seemed to even out, and I had about 35 people in my small Upper East Side crib to look at my work, and more importantly, drink free alcohol.

At its peak, there were about 20-25 people here at once for a good 90 minutes. A complete stranger from MySpace stopped by, as did a friendly gal I met on the subway platform a few weeks ago. Cousin John McIntosh and wife Kalia also made appearances, not to mention multiple purchases. My new friend Marc Boriosi brought his good buddy Mark Rapp and some other friends after Rapp performed at Rockwood Music Hall. Marc with a C asked me a couple weeks ago if I wanted to send my partygoers to Mark with a K's performance before my party, but I knew I'd be stressed out trying to get my place ready. Since, however, Rapp briefly played his didgeridoo for impressed party people here, I certainly owe him some return support.

Beer, liquor and wine were on the menu, as were pineapple-and-cheddar, bloody mary pops, a lovely cucumber-goat cheese-sun dried tomato appetizer and prosciutto and melon. Late night bananas foster is a staple.

At my previous TV jobs in Cincinnati and Louisville, on-air friends weren't afraid or too cool to attend my parties. But where I work now is Diva Central, so I wasn't expecting any of those pretties, which is why I was quite pleased when one reporter did come by after delivering the news after 11 or so.

In all, I sold 13 pieces and also collected a handful of promises of future purchases. What made me most happy is that lots of the pictures I put out there drew a variety of raves, not just the same four or five.

I live just a few blocks down from the Met, and this spring I plan to take my prints there and sit among the real artists, trying to sell my stuff. Maybe I'll get a Web site together this year as well. The sooner I start making some money, the sooner my hair can go from scraggly to "interesting" and my personality from weird to eccentric. I'll always favor the dorky glasses, but I'll definitely be shaving off this full orange beard on March 18.