've been absent from blogging for a few months.  I have no excuse other than just not wanting to do it, writing has never come easily to me so I don't make the time to do it.  I have a lot of new images to share though, and a lot has happened since my last entry which can be written about.

First of all, on April 11th, my father Marc Camile Lemieux died after suffering a brain aneurysm the day before and going into a coma on life support.  The doctors discovered that he had a case of acute leukemia which is probably what caused the clot in his brain.  On the morning of the 10th he collapsed and lost consciousness, which he never regained.  On that day (April 10th), I woke up early to watch the sunrise with the full moon in Mammoth Lakes, where I was for the weekend.  I spent the morning after that with friends before loading my car and taking the drive home at a leisurely pace so I could take photographs.  I normally drive home pretty directly, but I wanted to take pictures along the way.  I found out about 4 hours into my drive when my sister called me.  About an hour later as the sun was setting, I pulled my car to the side of the road in the middle of the high desert and watched the moon rise as the sun set.  It was one of the most beautiful moonrises I've ever seen.

Here are some of those photographs that I took that morning and on the drive South on highway 395.

When I got home I met with my sister and mom and we went straight to the hospital.  That was the last time I saw him.  The next day the doctors determined that he had no hopes of coming out of the coma and the decision was made to remove him from life support (which is what he had always said he would have wanted in that situation).

He was 59 years old

My parents divorced ten years ago and I had not been especially close to my father since, but I will never be able to express in words how much I learned from him and how much he contributed to the person I am today.  He had a seemingly endless curiosity about the world around him, particularly all things mechanical, and his ability to fix anything in any situation with only the most minimalistic tool kit available to him is literally the stuff of legends.  He was loved by everyone who knew him, even the people who couldn't stand him, and he will be deeply missed not only by me and my family but probably by countless people I don't know and will never meet.

Since then and excluding that, I have been keeping myself busy with photography and work and everything else.  I purchased a drone which has added a new and previously unattainable perspective to my photography, as well as opening up possibilities for new and more work.  I could go on and on about what I've been up to lately, but I will leave it to my photos to tell a story for me.

I can't believe how quickly this year has gone by so far.  I've been up and down between Mammoth and San Diego several times a month going between work at both places and trying to take as many photos as possible.  Tomorrow is the first day of spring, so here are some of the images I've taken since my last entry.  Enjoy!

2017.

It's finally here.

January first is only another day of the year no objectively different than any other.  On each day of the year, you have traveled an entire orbit around Sol from that same date the previous year.  January first is only significant because you become aware of this fact more accutly than on any other day, except perhaps your birthday.  Except this date carries with it a collective awareness, because your birthday is just yours.  January first is like the birthday for the whole world, except of course for the fact that it isn't, because the Earth wasn't born in a day, and it isn't 2,017 years old.  However we humans like to scale things down and simplify them so our brain can make sense of them.  So we celebrate these markers.

For me, looking back on this past year is a crowded view filled with many changes.  I started a new job doing something that I never imagined myself doing.  I've built relationships that I didn't plan on building, I've become reconnected to a very important place here in Mammoth, and all the while I've produced photographs that document my journey.  

Also, I have watched (as everyone has watched) the rise of the clearest embodiment of classical fascism that America and possibly the world has seen in decades.  As a political leftist and active dues paying member of th Industrial Workers of the World and the Socialist Party of the USA, this is no great surprise.  Fascism is capitalism in decay, and America has been in decay for more than a generation now.  That generation, in the avsence of a clear class analysis of their suffering, will turn to the political hucksters and glorified con artists willing to give them a direction to point their rage.  Moving into 2017 and beyond will mean people like myself must become better at communicating our solutions.  

Despite all of the failings of 2016, I wanted to begin the new year with the freshest perspective I could, so I decided to venture out before the sun rose on January first (despite having been up until 1:30 the night before) to view one of the most beautiful landscapes in the world be painted for the first time of the year.  In the pitch dark morning I drove out of the Town of Mammoth Lakes, onto US Highway 395 and behind the airport to a volcanically active area called Hot Creek.  I took set up my camera and started taking photos while the stars were still visible to the naked eye above.

The fun part had begun.

I turned my camera around to take a photo of my car.  This is my first time being in the Mountains without a 4wd truck and I was nervous about my ability to access the locations I most want to photograph.  I have been undisappointed by the VW's ability to get me where I need to be, and it's heated seats have been a godsend on mornings under 20 degrees.

No time for stopping.  Once the light starts to shift everything happens fast.  I took a few more photos at this location then was on the move again.

As I was driving my newly made friend who had agreed to join me on this morning turned my attention to the charachteristic of the light as it continued to rise to the horizon.  I stopped the car and took several more photos.

We kept driving.  Again, the light persuaded us to stop.  As I looked to the north and west, the sky opposite where the Sun would soon rise was splashed with a pink and purple glow that I wouldn't ave believed to be real if I weren't there staring at it myself.  The Eastern Sierra Mountains are known as the range of light, and not for no reason.

Finally, it was time to turn our attention to the primary reason we'd come there.  In areas of high alpine peaks, the topography of the range requires that the very tallest and most prominent mountains will be the first to recieve the direct light of the Sun as it rises over the horizon.  This phenomen is known as alpineglow, and it is a treat known to all who frequent tall mountains during the hours of dusk and dawn.  This is the way lanscapes were meant to be seen.

Being thoroughly satisfied with the things we had seen, and also very cold at this point, we made the decision to head quickly to the nearby natural hot springs which are a result of the entire area being a volcanic caldera.  A few snaps with the phone on the way out and then it was into the hot water (sans bathing trunks of course, because nature).

There's only one way to properly greet the new year after a successful morning of photography.

The day had only just begun though, so we opted to spend the rest of it skiing.

So this is it.  
The new year.  
I hope every day of it is as good as the first, filled with new experiences, new friends, new views, and nu-didty.

​Happy 2017.