In OUR Backyard: Matt Eich

© 2010 Brian Adams

Last week, Brian and I were so happy to be able to spend some time with our friend, photographer Matt Eich. Matt was visiting for work, but we were able to grab dinner and drinks one evening and have a lovely bagel picnic and portrait in Prospect Park the day before he left.

I first met Matt while he was studying photography at Ohio University, but until last week, it had been almost four years since we'd seen each other. I, for one, am glad; we've both done a lot in four years. In four years, we were both married, Matt and his wife had a daughter who is now three years-old, we've both lived in several cities and states, and we have both been paving professional paths that have taken us to various parts of the world. It is encouraging to meet other young professional artists who are busy and loving it.

In addition to his personal work and long list of awards and honors, Matt is a founding member of Luceo Images, an up-and-coming photography collective with an established client list of national and international publications. On Luceo's website, Matt recently posted a blog about his NYC trip.

Matt is truly an inspiring individual as well as an incredibly gifted and talented photographer. He is intuitive, compassionate, and genuine, and his ambitions and optimism are sincere and encouraging. It was so great to see him, and we can't wait to see what he does next.

Right on, Matt.

To see more of Matt's work and bio, check out his website.

PDN Photo of the Day

When I was first introduced to The Eskimo Cookbook, I knew that I was in possession of something precious and perhaps even sacred. The paper-and-staple cookbook written by students of the Shishmaref Day School in 1951 details traditional Native Alaskan recipes for everything from Polar Bear to Whale in the simplistic language of children; the instructions are often without measurements, cooking temperatures, or times and include hand-drawn illustrations of local plants and herbs. Weathered and yellowed from handling and a shelf-life of over sixty years, the book is fragile and feels as though it could fade away at any second, not entirely unlike Shishmaref itself, currently threatened by coastal erosion induced by climate change.

Today, Brian and I were honored to have our story on Shishmaref, Alaska featured as PDN's Photo of the Day. See the full story here. What a great way to celebrate our two-month wedding anniversary, right?

Photo © 2010 Brian Adams

Text by Ash Adams

Staten Island Ferry

New York City is a place that feels both big and small at the same time. It is, after all, an island surrounded by islands, so although there is always so much to do and see and so many people to meet, Brian and I often find ourselves in the same places, surrounded by the same people.

This week, I was assigned in one of my workshops to take the Staten Island Ferry and draft a poem that explores (or is inspired by) the Manhattan cityscape. It's probably needless to say that Brian and I were both excited to have an excuse to make the short and free trip, especially on one of the sunny, beautiful days we've been enjoying lately.

To see the city from far away, muted and small, feels very much like taking a breath: there is so much in every single breath we take--years of our lives, years and breaths of others', thoughts, stresses, molecules, exchanges--but in this moment, the cityscape is one, single, unified view. Stacked and stacked and stacked in every direction with conversations, history (centuries!), and motion, but in this moment, still.

Photo © 2010 Brian Adams
Text by Ash Adams

SF {Home is Wherever I'm With You}

It is a strange feeling to walk the streets of a place you once used to live, like a dream. The buildings, restaurants, and cafes you once considered a part of your life are now occupied by strangers, and those persons you regularly saw but didn’t engage have moved on to somewhere else. They have, in a way, disappeared; there is a good chance you will never see them again.

Last weekend, Brian and I visited San Francisco, my home before Alaska, to photograph the wedding of two of our Alaskan friends, and it was, indeed, strange. When I boarded the plane to Alaska in the San Francisco International Airport, I had no idea that the next time I would visit the city would be with my husband, the love of my life, from our apartment in New York City. I had no idea that there was this person in the world whom I could not live without.

We walked the places that I love the most—from the west coast of the city to the north to the east, wandering through the markets in the Ferry Building, eating at the cafes that were once my “usuals,” and spending a few hours in my favorite place in the city—Ocean Beach—to watch the fog roll in off the west coast. We stayed with a dear beautiful friend of mine, Amanda—the one who drove me to the airport when I left the city “for good.”

It was strange to be in a place I once called home with the person who feels more like home to me than any place ever could. Brian and I looked at one another on the street one night, just as the light was fading behind the hills, and repeated a phrase that although we’ve said over and over again have not exhausted: Home is wherever I’m with you.

Text by Ash Adams
Photos 2010 © Brian Adams