Me and My Father

Paul and Stephen Burd, 1993

In my last post I mentioned we were headed to Portland and I would be posting again in a few days. That plan got sidetracked a little. The day we returned home I received word that my father, Stephen Burd, had died. I wrote more about that on my other blog.

I took this photograph around 1992-93. It's a self-protrait. I'm on the right, and I'm also the baby. The man holding me is my dad (when he was 19).

I created this image in a pre-digital world... no digital photography, and no Photoshop. The compositing was accomplished in-camera by projecting a 16mm home movie onto myself.

The image held a lot of meaning for me at the time, and now it means even more.

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Confinement

Paul Burd, Self Portrait

San Francisco, CA - Home

We went out to dinner earlier tonight. It was the first time I've left the house in 8 days. Last Thursday morning I threw out my back. I've been in bed ever since. I'm feeling a little better today. I was also finally able to stand long enough to shave that fur off my face. It felt great to get clean again.

The image is full-frame (not cropped). I'm holding the camera in one hand, and aiming it back at myself. I'm using a 50mm (80mm equivalent) lens, which is why the composition is so tight. It took a few tries to get the aim right. I took a few others with a wider view, but I thought the tight composition of this one lent itself to the idea of "confinement".

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Blast from the Past

Night shot of me in Tempe, AZ - 1992

Location: Tempe, AZ - University Ave.

This is a self portrait I did back around 1992. I shot it around 3:00am. It was shot on black and white 35mm film and printed full-frame. I just scanned the print in today.

At the time I was taking a photography class at Mesa Community Collage. It was independant-study, which just meant that you could shoot whatever you want. The class would get together every week or two and have critiques. I really enjoyed taking those classes.

As a secret back-story, I used to take that mug (that's under my hand) to critiques. It was filled with orange juice and taquilla. I always thought critiques were a little more lively with a good buzz on.

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