Thursday, June 4, 2015

Day 2&3 ~ Indecision & Decision

I spent the majority of my Tuesday rank with anxiety. Nervous. I still wasn't sure what to do, or what to pursue. I kept my mind busy with simple tasks during the day. In the evening I went looking for photographs. It wasn't until late Tuesday when I found myself sitting alone in my kitchen, that I allowed myself to actually think. Reflect. An hour or so later, Wednesday morning, I purchased a one way ticket to Seattle. And with that exhale, I slept.

So the idea is beginning to take shape and the biggest hurdle of actually choosing one of these ideas to go with, is done. I guess a question you may be ask is, am I moving? The simple answer is, no. I'm going to go stretch my legs and my mind for a bit and live creatively .. authentically.


On another note, Wednesday afternoon I had a chance to catch up with artist Sarah Davies at her workspace in Spenard. She told me of the place, an old abandoned church, a couple days prior when I bumped into her. I knew I would have to come see myself. Currently she is working on a project called, 100 Stone which you can check out here. It's set to be expressed in it's totality on December 5th 2015. 

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Day 1 ~ The Beginning

I quit my job on the day of my birthday last month. I couldn't tell you exactly why. It's just that I found myself standing so still all I could do was to take a leap of faith. And so here I am, I don't have great plan, in fact I mostly have rough ideas. But I have a commitment, to myself, and that's to love what I do and do what I love. So, this is the beginning .. of a new adventure. 

self portrait. downtown, anchorage. june 2015

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Annual Studio Party ~

Stopped by the Annual Studio Party in Downtown this past Saturday. Got drunk and took photographs, a good way to spend a Saturday evening. // Downtown, Anchorage. May 2015

Friday, March 20, 2015

Where you invest your love, You invest your life.

Back at it, it's been a while! - This week I had a chance to catch up with Sarah and her soon to be 2-year old, Mickey. We met for a quick photo-shesh at the Anchorage Museum. After, I was left with thoughts of having my own kids, and all the cool and beautiful photos we would make over the years. Just a thought though..

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Chase Maier goes to the Salmonstock Music Festival 2013 - Ninilchik, Alaska.

By: Chase Maier

The Hitch in : Press Pass

When Brandi Carlile, the musical headliner for the Salmonstock Music Festival, took stage Saturday night I was passed out drunk behind the beer garden. It was that kind of show, for me anyway. Sitting here now and writing this it's occurred to me that I know as much about Salmon now as I did before leaving for Salmonstock - which is, I love eating it.

Sitting on a highway on-ramp with with a thumb-out can be a sordid endeavor. It's either a mad or a desperate lot who take to this method of transportation. Personally, I can't recall ever having met a straight-edge hitcher even after they've pressed on from tramping about. They're all mad I tell you, mad for something that most don't want to understand. -- This said, I'll dispense attempting an explanation of my own madness and just tell you that I arrived in Ninilchik on Friday evening around 11:30 on the heels of a couple hitches in. It was Jared, a young Native guy, who picked me up off the Huffman on-ramp in Anchorage and got me into Soldotna (about 3/4 of the way to Ninilchik) around 10:30.  Before getting out along Soldonta's main strip Jared gave me the quick lay of the land which included locations of a couple bars and possible places to pitch a tent in the event I got stuck overnight. Being only a couple blocks from the Maverick bar, a bar he described as 'an old time thinking bar' I headed in that direction. The thought of a couple Whiskeys and a journal entry sounded about right. I trekked off; With thumb-out as I walked I hadn't made it farther than to the end of the block were I was intercepted by Ross, an early-30's Ninilchik native, and his old black beater-truck. And just like that I was off to Ninilchik.

I should probably preface this whole convoluted affair with mentioning that it was just a few days prior that I determined I would I would have to shell out just over a hundred dollars for a Friday - Saturday pass, food and lodging of course not included. Unfortunately, having a bit of a tight fisted budget the cost just wasn't in the cards, so I pitched a long shot to Victoria, the editor of the Anchorage Press, with an email propositioning words and photos for a press pass. -- And so to bring things here full circle it was this arrangement that got me into Salmonstock.

Saturday : Breakfast : Beer & Photos : The Plunge

I awoke Saturday morning rank with anxiety, that nervous yet excited kind with an all too clever mix of a hangover. Even despite my late evening arrival I hadn't wasted much time before getting down to the heart of the matter, mainly live music and Jameson. Sometime just before trailing off to pitch and crash I met Hannah, a self-described 'gypsy-journalist'. We both arrived at the festival stag and wanting to hear more each other we exchanged numbers. After getting my bearings Saturday morning I decided to ring her up to see if she wanted to catch breakfast. She said she did and about twenty minutes later she showed up and we walked up to the small general store about a block away. As we were walking up, I noticed she was wearing different clothes then from the night before. I hadn't changed at all. I had thought about it, but I liked what I had on, plus it wasn't dirty. Once we arrived at the store the morning's anxiety prevented me from grabbing anything of real substance, a move I would later regret. Hannah picked up a tea and a quart of milk to go with the dates and the granola cereal she brought along.

After our quaint meal outside my tent we chatted a bit about our itinerary for the day. Hannah said she was headed inside the festival while I decided to hang back and make a liquor run before bearing down on the campsite for photographs. I had decided, just from my early morning look around, that there were quite a few charismatic characters and scenes worth photographing. Just before taking off Hannah offered up some weed to smoke. Typically, I'd decline in situations when I know my activities immediately following involve dealing with people. Suffice it to say, we smoked till the bowl was toast then parted ways. After my trek up to the liquor store for a re-up of beer and whiskey I pressed upon the campground in search of photographs. That's about when the madness began.

With camera in one hand a beer in the other what I found was a litany of interesting and charismatic characters, some still clinging to a hangover, others well into round two. Seemingly everybody had a story, interesting people usually do. And as I went from one group and one adventure to another I became more and more mad desiring more and more – more interaction with those wild and diverse personalities that kept me on my toes that made me feel alive. I was alive, alive with freedom to do, think and talk like I really needed too – to smile, rage and ask questions that the timid never ask. And all along the way we drank, smoked weed and told stories of other times we were completely mad. It was when I finally stepped foot inside the music festival that the fear came crashing in around me.

Gone was the individual replaced instead with a swarming mass moving in heedless directions. I could no longer see or feel my photographs and I raced off to the beer garden where I drank and talked and laughed like a mad man with anyone who would listen. And as I fueled my madness I knew that any thoughts of doing intellectual work was gone, replaced with this sick fear and desperation to live. I found myself in this mad back and forth, immersing myself in the personality of the individual then flinging myself into the masses. The madness finally overcame me when I found myself in front of the Super Saturated Sugar Strings as their set was at a fever pitch and the crowd was kicking, dancing and jumping into the sky alongside the dust that swarmed around us. It was then I lost myself in the energy and the absolute freedom to be exactly who I wanted to be at that moment in time.

And that was the end of my time.