Wendell Earth #11

Nothing special here.

I was out one morning and I saw this door. Boarded up, rusty sheet metal, cool painted fist. When I saw it, I thought, "That boarding-up can't be to keep the mischievous at bay. Who the hell would go into this building? If that door was standing wide open, who would go through it?'"

You can add your own profound thoughts to the whole "open door" thing, if you like. For me, it was pretty simple: I ain't going in there.

Wendell Earth #10

The other day I was driving up Twelve Mile Road in Warren, Michigan. It was a beautiful day. The GM Tech Center is on Twelve Mile Road in Warren.

From Wikipedia:
"The GM Technical Center is a General Motors facility in Warren, Michigan. The campus is home to 16,000 GM engineers, designers, and technicians and has been the center of the company's engineering effort for 50 years.
The "Tech Center" was designed by architect Eero Saarinen, with construction beginning in 1949. The campus was completed in 1955 and ceremonially opened by President Dwight D. Eisenhower on May 16, 1956. The facility cost the company approximately US$100,000,000 at the time. The American Institute of Architects honored it in 1986 as the most outstanding architectural project of its era.
The Tech Center sprawls across 330 acres (1.3 km2) of land and includes 11 miles (18 km) of roads and 1.1 miles (1.8 km) of tunnels. It includes 25 main buildings and numerous additional structures including a water tower and 22-acre (89,000 m2) lake."
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/General_Motors_Technical_Center

Wendell Earth #9

When I see stuff like this, I wonder if other people see it, or am I the only one.

I look around. I see the people as they drive by. Hoopties, SUV's, Hybrids. Coffee in one hand, cell phone in the other. Child seats, fast food, grocery list, to-do list, life goals reconfigured. Chain smoking, drank too much, didn't drink enough. Emotional, love, hate, something like love and hate. "What time did I leave Point A because I don't want to get to Point B too early."

Do they see me standing along the road side with a camera and tripod? Do I look all weird too them? Do they see me and my gear and think, "What's the hell wrong with him?" Do they even notice me? And if they do, do they ever look to where I shooting expecting to see something like a fire, or a car wreck, or a naked girl? Do they find anything of interest?

Seen in Detroit #42

At one point, like many photographers, I was obsessed the urban ruin. Photo after photo exposing the ugly side of city life. Then one day, inexplicably, my attitude changed.

Wendell Earth #8

Don't bother to ask me what this is about. I'll play the aloof artist card, pretend like I don't know and then say "I saw it. I shot it. I post-processed the heck out of it."

Clearly, there are religious undertones. A result of my upbringing. But the reference would be meaningless unless you as the viewer were also familiar with the classic tales. You know; the tale of Moses and The Burning Bush? The Ten Commandments? The movie? Charlton Heston? Staff turns into a snake and eats the other snakes? The Burning Bush?

Okay, God visits Charlton Heston (as Moses) in the form of a magical bush. This bush is known ironically as The Burning Bush. Where's the irony? The bush is on fire, but the bush doesn't burn, hence the irony: even though the bush is on fire and doesn't burn, its called "The Burning Bush." Maybe it should have been called "The Flaming Bush" or "The Hot Bush."

To further the irony, after working a miracle by making a bush thats on fire but doesn't burn, instead of saving the Hebrews, The Burning Bush rolls out to Moses a list of nearly impossible assignments. I guess, in a way, its mirrors real life. How many men have prayed for hot bush, then get it, but all the hot bush does is give you stuff to do ... (note: this a joke of the perverted and sexist type ie. hot bush = hot girl; get it?)

Anyway, the bush is Moses' vision from God.

Getting back to the image, I think the reality is maybe I really did saw-it-shot-it this tree because the story is so heavily entrenched in my mind. Not to admit that i am, maybe ... programmed. Just maybe on some level I was looking for a sign. That sign. Then I saw it and went, "there it is."

A question thats more interesting to me is, "What is this image about to you?"

A Little More Story

When I was a kid, went to kindergarten at Morris Child Care in Detroit. I don't think I was there for very long because my parents had just recently moved to the neighborhood.

I remember one other kid from that school. He was my friend for 20 years after that. I remember a girl pinching me until I ran to the teacher. Our class sat on the floor a lot. Took naps. Good times.

The building was painted brightly and it seems like there was a pretty big staff. Oh ... and back in 1969, 1970, kids got spankings for acting up. I don't ever remember being stubborn or disobedient. I do remember getting spankings (LOL).

This is Morris' as it exist today. Boarded up, a victim of the recession/depression. The faded wash is the remnant of what was once an unusually bright paint job.

Wendell Earth #7

I went downtown to look for the guy living in the hut. He was gone. So was his hut. I guess the neighbors living in legitimate homes finally got tired of him.

This is the view he had when he walked out his front door in the morning. Ominous, I guess. Maybe inspiring. I doubt that he saw this scene in sepia tones, though.

I wonder where he went off to.

Wendell Earth #6

A few weeks ago I drove past this building. The hole wasn't there. A new addition. Kind of interesting, though.

There's a gentleman that lives up the street from here. He built a house in a vacant lot using refrigerator doors, corrugated metal, scrap wood and so on. I guess the house is more like a hut. Its a hut.

When I drove by his place earlier that morning, he had a nice bonfire going near to his house, maybe, twenty feet away. I won't give away his location on the outside chance that someone reads this. Anyway, he wasn't home. I found him further up the street with on of his many shopping carts collecting bricks from this location. I guess he's up to some home improvements.

When I went back to take this photo, he came running up the street after me yelling something in gibberish. I don't know what he said, but I'm sure it was something like, "Get your hands off my damn bricks!!!"

I power walked back to my truck, whipped a U-turn and left.

Wendell Earth #5

The other day I was informed that my post were too serious. Too profound.

I agree. And furthermore, if you see these images and read this text, and the result is a meaningful and maybe thought provoking experience ... then, more power to you.

Wendell Earth #4

I don't really have anything comments to make about this image. Its part of the series for which this blog is named: Wendell Earth. As you can tell, the scene is an alley. The alley is located in Detroit on Rivard between Atater and Franklin streets. Nothing special. Just an alley between buildings.

What is interesting is that the Google Maps' image doesn't actually show the buildings. They've been covered over to look like empty lots.

At one point, there were plans to convert this area into a riverfront destination with restaurants and bars and casinos. Perhaps the 150 manufacturing facilities would have been replaced by those structures, by now had those plans not gone by the way side. Anyone who's ever been along that stretch of land can see the amazing potential as the area is naturally beautiful.


As it exist today, its still beautiful. The not-so towering relics of bygone prosperity standing along a shoreline, hilighting an era when the narrow stretch of water between the U.S. and Canada was an important passage between the East and the West.

Its beauty, I guess, comes from a promise. The promise of better days in the past, and in the future. A little sappy, huh? Sorry.

Seen in Detroit

I think there are three types of photographers working as artist.

First, there's the soul searcher. "My connection with my soul is in my camera." "The images come from within." "I need to understand my place in the grand scheme of things." That type.

The second type is the world saver. Those over here are suffering and those over there don't know about it. I will put the truth in your face so you can deal with it. The answer is worth the pain I've endured to bring it to you." That's what they like to think.

The third type is the shocker. Not much definition required here, other than, "F*CK YOU!!!! YOU ARE SO STUPID COMPARED TO THE GENIUS OF MY GENIUS!!!" "DO YOU SEE HOW GREAT THIS IS? NO! YOU CAN"T!!!!!!!!"

Which type am I? TBD.

When I shot these images, I was certainly looking for something, but it wasn't my soul. My soul wasn't out there to be found. I didn't want to save the world either because, in my opinion, the Earth didn't need saving. It will be here long after me. Definitely, it wasn't to be shocking. But would you be surprised if I told you this image was shot in Detroit, Michigan? Factories, condemned buildings, crime, poverty, mansions, swimming pool, prep schools? That Detroit.

I wanted to reveal something, which is the point of all art: to show the viewer something. But what?

To be frank, when I made this image I was frustrated by the tendency of the artistic community to focus on urban blight and decay and ruin. There was more to city life than that. I wanted to reveal that.

Consider this: once people came to this place now referred to as Detroit. When they got here, they saw beauty. Natural beauty. Trees, rivers, streams. Incredible skies. It was all around, in every direction. It still is.

We can't destroy that. At best, we can hide from it.

Was that soul-searching or world-saving or shocking? Which type am I?

Wendell Earth #1

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A smart man once said to me, "How can you know others if you don't know yourself." 

I gave him the look, then asked, "What the hell is that suppose to mean?" 

That's what this blog is about. What the hell that means .....

See this bench? At my lowest point, I sat on that bench. So what? Everyone has low points? True. And when I stood in front of that bench, was my suffering greater then yours? I doubt it. Did I feel like I was going to implode more than you ever felt like you were going to implode? I don't think so. A wise man once implied suffering comes to all who live. He's right.

Remember, even though there are people on this world who are starving, suffering illness, enduring torture and impossible cruelty, only fools and children believe they suffer more than everyone else. The other side of the coin is true as well: only fools and children believe they are happier than everyone else.

But this post isn't about the deep philosophical dilemma that is existence. I just wanted to show you this bench and tell you what it meant to me.

If you were standing where I was standing when I took this picture, behind you and to the left is a tree. This tree overlooks the Detroit River from Belle Isle. Belle Isle is a little island park in on the Detroit River in case you hadn't heard of it.


Among the long list of things I took the time to believe in, one was Tai Chi practice. Go ahead, take a moment to laugh, but its true. The slow moving, deep breathing, old-Chinese-people-doing, funny outfits and so on, Tai Chi. Early on weekend mornings, in the pre-dawn hours, I would throw my cameras into the truck and begin.

Driving slowly through the streets, I'd work my way from my home in Ferndale, to East Grand Boulevard and Jefferson. Some days the trip was a straight shot up Woodward. Other days, a two hour excursion weaving up and down side streets the entire way.

Between 5-6am, photo-ops are innumerable. I rarely stopped to shoot, though. The city was so peaceful and quiet. If you were the type of person that believed that the City of Detroit was nothing more than crime and ruin, you'd be in for an interesting surprise. Its a beautiful experience, like walking into a room where a baby is sleeping. Peaceful, quiet, for a moment anyway.

I'd cross the MacArthur Bridge onto Belle Isle and follow the parameter road until I found the closed concession stand. I'd show you a picture of the stand, but its gone, now.

This is foot path leading up to the tree. Not so beautiful at the end of winter, but in a few weeks, it will be. By the way, my tree isn't one of the trees in this image.

I would sound really cool and zen-like if I said it was a long journey along this path to my tree and bench. That would be the poetic choice. In reality, my Tai Chi escape is just to the left and off camera. This is it, the solitary one.

Pretty scraggly looking. Even on its best day, this tree kind of looked like hell, but that was my tree. That's were I ended a weekly early morning ritual designed to restart my point of view. Square up my frame of mind. Forget my troubles.

I'd practice near this tree for maybe 90 minutes. It was great, a great feeling. Was it real? I think it was. It could have been something else. Maybe it was the hour of day. Maybe it was my strange purposefulness. Maybe it was the silence, broken only by natural sounds. Maybe it was the exhaust fumes collecting in the truck from driving so slowly. Real or not, it was real for me. The experience was real.

The Beginning

To the best of my memory, it started at my grand parents house. My earliest memories, begin here; 1970, Detroit, Michigan, USA.

My mom lived here with her father, a Baptist minister, her mother and her two brothers. As I recall, my grandfather wasn't the stern type, but he could be tough. My grandmother, on the other hand, when God passed out ball busting, she got in line twice. At the time, visiting my grand parents was always scary and exciting and wonderful.

This is my grandfathers house as it exist, today:


Not quite so beautiful now, but as a kid, I loved this place.