...On the other Foot...

Putting my thoughts into elegant words like my comrade Sgt. Giunta is not my specialty, that’s why I take photos…but since this is a blog of words and photos, I shall attempt to write as well.

At times I feel the need to take a step back from the camera and view the world through my eyes rather than a lens, which is what happened during my pass in Austin, TX. The extent of my photography during this little adventure ended briefly after picking up a soldier’s, Barnhardt, pocket digital one night and trying to figure out how to work it. I gave up rather quickly and decided I’d rather sip on a Jameson and watch the insanity around me fold out. This entry won’t contain any photos, just my experience of what it is like to be cooped up for almost two months in a seemingly circle of hell, or purgatory *cough, cough*, and then let loose for a few days before going overseas.

If a camera had been turned on me during this pass, which I’m sure there was, I’d be embarrassed to show my face in Austin again…well a certain bar anyways. Making a very short night even shorter, it is physically impossible, for me, to drink the same amount of alcohol after two months of sobriety. There are only so many shots of liquor and beer you can drink in a short period of time before your body decides to shut down. After my little endeavor of making a fool of myself I decided to be sensible for the rest of the pass. The next few days were filled with excellent food, moderate drinking, and being sober enough to watch other people act like asses, only to know I was right there with them a few days ago.

The reason I write about my overly intoxicated night on this blog isn’t to sound like some frat boy blabbering about the last time he got shit faced and how everybody thought he was so cool, but to make a point of being vulnerable and under the scrutiny of others. It’s easy to photograph a soldier when he messes up or gets chewed out by his superior if it makes an interesting frame, but when the tables turn and you see photographs of your own retarded behavior, it makes you think twice about photographing somebody just to make a good photo. I could have filled this blog with photos of individuals making terrible choices while intoxicated, and I could have cleverly labeled it “When Soldiers Go Wild”, but I see no good in doing that. I understand showing how men and women act before going to ‘war’ is an important part of the story, but at what cost. At some point I feel my job as a photographer ends and I’ll just experience life with these men and women and learn from my mistakes. Maybe that makes me a soft photojournalist, but I’ll take the trust of a unit that I’ve been with for over two years rather than some scandalous photos.

- The Exodus