The following photos were taken this week using a Polaroid 600 camera and expired film. Locations include Woodlawn Cemetery, Palm Downtown Mortuary and Cemetery, and Palm Eastern Mortuary and Cemetery.
Sin City Cemeteries: An Analog Annal
Reply
Tag Archives: cemetery
Two Weeks Of Death Can Change A Life
The last week of February and the first week of March were intense.
We spent a week in Utah, visiting family and Petey’s grave. I don’t know what to say that I haven’t already said; only that acceptance is setting in, but if you confuse that with numbness or complacency, you’d be wrong.
Grave Flowers, Moab, UT
Mound and Cliffs, Moab, UT
Roses, Moab, UT
As we made our way through Southern Utah we stopped at a few points of interest. Monument Valley did not disappoint.
Sunrise at Mexican Hat, UT
Spine, Monument Valley, UT
Then, back in Vegas, I was honored to spend the week with Lauren and Kerry from Lighthold Massage Therapy. They are massage therapists who teach courses about massage therapy for oncology patients (presently undergoing treatment as well as those who have been cancer-free for years). I took Oncology Massage 101 with them last summer and it heightened my awareness regarding client comfort and health issues in a big way.
When the weekend came around, Kerry flew home and Lauren stuck around to teach what I call “the deathy class” — Opening to the Mystery: Presence in Caregiving at the End of Life. To most, it probably sounds like a class about hospice massage…and that’s part of it. But it’s so much more.
Five other participants and myself followed Lauren’s lead through exercises in loss: loss of freedom, loss of faculties, loss of companionship, loss of touch. The course was three days long, and each day we could see more of each other as the space we created was tested and proven to be safe. We shared our doubts, fears, and plans; we shared our stories.
Friends asked me what the course was “about”. I told them I couldn’t sum it up in words but that I would try my best in a blog post. Opening to the Mystery was profound in that it provided a safe place, lead by a safe human, where the wisdom in truthfully admitting that we don’t know everything was embraced and celebrated. Centered around the impermanence of life, Lauren encouraged us to shift our perspectives from longing to loving, and from future to present.
If you think you’re up to it, I think you should enroll. Humility and vulnerability are prerequisites if you want to get the most out of the experience. Even if you’re mostly there, by day three you’ll be a changed person.
I’m not sure where my career as a massage therapist, esthetician and nail tech will take me in the years to come, but I can tell you my practice is deeper and more fulfilling because of journeys like these. Thank you.
24 Photos From New York: An Analog Annal
This November I spent a week hanging out with family and friends in Rochester and Buffalo, New York. Photography-wise, I purposely left my DSLR at home so I would be forced to use the Polaroid Spectra and 600 I had packed.
This post includes shots from Holy Sepulchre Cemetery (Rochester), Mount Hope Cemetery (Rochester), Thomas E. Burger Funeral Home (Hilton), University of Rochester, Eastman Kodak (Rochester), Forest Lawn Cemetery (Buffalo), and the abandoned aqueduct and subway tunnels of Rochester. I’m really happy with how they turned out. Enjoy!
Double Exposure Inside the Christ Our Light Mausoleum at Holy Sepulchre Cemetery
Double Exposure of My Grandparents’ Marker at Holy Sepulchre Cemetery
Mom at Grandma and Grandpa’s Grave in Holy Sepulchre Cemetery
Images from Mount Hope Cemetery:
Doug Showing Dad the Horse Drawn Hearse at Thomas E. Burger Funeral Home
Outside an Old U of R Tunnel, Expired Film, Photo by Deena Viviani
Tunnel Window Figure, U of R Campus, Expired Film
Inside the U of R Tunnel, Expired Film
Tunnel Cat, U of R, Expired Film
Double Exposure, George Eastman’s Monument, Kodak Park
Images from Forest Lawn Cemetery:
Abandoned Subway Tour
Abandoned Subway
Double Exposure Abandoned Subway and Arch
Precarious Walkway at the Aqueduct
The Clown Motel Meets Harold & Maude: An Analog Annal
A few months back I took a road trip through Nevada and up to California’s Bay Area. I spent the night in Tonopah, NV at the infamous Clown Motel, then went on an unofficial tour of some Harold and Maude filming locations once I made it up to Colma, CA and the surrounding area.
Although I’ve already posted a bunch of digital shots from this road trip, these instant film randoms have been collecting dust, just waiting to be scanned. I’m heading out of town tomorrow and figured I should post ’em before they’re buried under dozens of Rochester memories. Enjoy!
The Clown Motel in Tonopah, NV — Impossible 600 color film that I left in my hot car after processing
Life-size clown in the Clown Motel’s lobby.
Clown Motel selfie.
Clown Motel remnants.
At Holy Cross Cemetery in Colma, CA. The clearing used to be home to a large tree, featured prominently in Harold and Maude in the scene where Harold first sees Maude at the cemetery. — expired Impossible SX-70 film
Also from Holy Cross Cemetery in Colma. — expired Impossible SX-70 film
At Holy Cross Cemetery, standing where Harold was when he spotted Maude for the first time at the cemetery. — expired Impossible SX-70 film
I figured I should take a photo with a camera that would’ve been in production around the time that Harold and Maude was being filmed. Enter the Polaroid Big Shot! Holy Cross Cemetery, Colma, CA
The Silent Sleep in Colma
Cypress Lawn Memorial Park is located next to Holy Cross Cemetery in Colma, CA. (I visited Holy Cross during my Harold and Maude tour; ending up at Cypress Lawn the same day was merely a happy accident.)
Wikipedia tells us this cemetery is also known as the “City of the Silent”, and that moniker pleases me greatly. The memorial statues here are massive and plentiful, with many figures adopting grief-stricken poses that make you feel it in here. *points to chest*
Here are some highlights from my brief but memorable visit to Cypress Lawn. Enjoy!
On The Road to Find Out: A Love Letter to Harold and Maude
(Spoilers ahead. Duh.)
I was sixteen at the time and working at the local library. I must have spotted the Harold and Maude paperback while reshelving books and noticed “Paramount Pictures Presents” and “Songs by Cat Stevens” on the back cover. (I listened to a lot of Cat Stevens as a depressed, small town teenager. He seemed to have had it all figured out.)
My Cat fascination led me to locate the VHS copy of this particular Paramount Picture in our library’s AV department. I remember noticing it hadn’t been checked out in months. This was not 1994’s version of a smash library hit like Return of the Jedi or Fifty Shades of Grey; this was a bizarro 1971 cult film featuring mock suicides and age play that had mysteriously made its way into the catacombs of a library located in a quiet, one-stoplighted village in western New York. Were forest gnomes to blame? Or the high school janitor with the missing hard palate? We may never know.
Eventually the equally unpopular paperback made it into the library’s discard pile, then into my hot little hands.
The day I met Harold and Maude was a day that changed my life. I had been spending my free time writing poetry about hating myself and being stuck inside the brain of an OCD sufferer who ofttimes wished she wouldn’t wake up, only to open my eyes each morning to begin the hellish cycle of Pure O all over again. Bud Cort’s Harold Chasen was stuck in a holding pattern of his own, hungry for hope, freedom and a new direction in life, but in his isolation he didn’t realize these things were possible — and without Maude to show him the way, he most definitely wouldn’t have known which steps to take. I could relate to this 20 year old kid dressed in Vietnam-era bell bottoms more than I could relate to pretty much all of the people I knew in real life. He was also cute and sweet and funny.
Ruth Gordon’s Maude was like Death of the Endless (from Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman graphic novels) if Death traded in her black buckle boots and tank for your grandma’s tweedy winter coat and wool tights, then aged six human decades. Maude is old and wise. She teaches Harold about the ways of the world and how one person has the power to make it a better place, but when she does this she’s really teaching us. Aside from her horrendous driving skills, I hope to be as Maude-like as possible when I’m her age. You want to see someone who truly has no fucks to give? That person is Dame Marjorie Chardin, but you can call her Maude.
I figure I’ve probably viewed Harold and Maude approximately one hundred times since 1994. It is, without a doubt, my favorite movie of all time. That being said, I became worried a few months back, having not watched my favorite movie for a few years and wanting to but fearing that the darker events involving death by suicide that had recently occurred in my own life would change my perspective on the film in a bad way. What if I now felt it trivialized suicide? Or mocked it? Or used it to get a cheap laugh? What if I felt the deep meanings I took away from the film in the past wouldn’t hold up to a viewing today? What if the world had become so fucking painful that my precious celluloid life raft would leave me to drown in my own disillusionment? There was only one way to find out.
Had I known that director Hal Ashby’s father had suicided when Hal was 12, maybe I wouldn’t have worried. Because I shouldn’t have. If anything, Harold and Maude is even more beautiful, profound and perfect now. Now I notice things I hadn’t noticed during a hundred previous viewings: stuff on the shelves in Maude’s train car; the expression on Glaucus’ face; the observation that everything Maude says to Harold in the greenhouse about “living things” applies to him. Now it consistently brings me to tears…as it should. It’s a phenomenal movie.
I drove up to the Bay Area a few weeks ago and made it my mission to visit as many Harold and Maude filming locations as possible. What follows is a rag tag compilation of photos taken with my DSLR and my phone (depending on what I had with me at the time), as well as a YouTube video! Some images have been edited, some are raw, and some require lengthy descriptions. At any rate, I hope you enjoy this project that’s been twenty years in the making. ❤
At Holy Cross Cemetery in Colma, CA. This is where Harold sees Maude for the first time. He’s attending a service held in the vicinity of the Hanlon gravestone while Maude is hanging out by a (now missing) tree behind the Donovan gravestone. The red arrow shows you where Maude was chillin’.
The Hanlon grave at Holy Cross.
Another view of the area where Harold was standing by the casket.
Another view of the filming site at Holy Cross. Maude was positioned behind this front row of gravestones. And no tree!
A close up of the top of the Donovan stone. You can actually see the yellowed etching for a split second in the movie.
Also at Holy Cross Cemetery. For over an hour I tried to locate the exact row where Harold and Maude encounter each other again at another graveside service. Much like the missing tree, I think some changes have been made to the grave markers here over the last 45 years, so I have no idea if I captured the exact spot. Just know that I tried!
Maybe here?
This should look familiar! The shadowy area to the left is the spot where Maude pulls up to pick Harold up after the service, then the priest questions her about painting the saint after she drove off in his VW.
That musty mausoleum scent was wafting across the cemetery, beckoning…
Inside the mausoleum.
Work in progress. (Underneath? Curing concrete.)
The whys and what fors.
Ravens in flight at Holy Cross Cemetery.
Golden Gate National Cemetery in San Bruno, CA.
The trees are definitely bigger than they were in the 1970s.
The Sutro Baths Ruins in San Francisco, CA. This is where Uncle Victor and Harold encounter Maude protesting for peace.
These are the stairs (now crumbling and probably not safe to walk on) that Harold chases Maude down after she grabs his shrunken head.
Mori Point in Pacifica, CA where the final scene was filmed. The goal? Follow the trail up to the top of that tall thing.
Clowning around on the trail to Mori Point.
Ocean, you make me feel insignificant and I like it.
Stumbling up to the top of Mori Point (in flip flops — not recommended), I was rewarded with bird parts.
The grass is worn away in tire track formation. I think this is it.
AHHHHH!
“You see, Harold, I feel that much of the world’s sorrow comes from people who are *this*, yet allow themselves be treated as *that*.” — Flowers at Mori Point.
Interlope At Antelope
While driving up to the Bay Area a few weeks back I made a brief, unplanned pit stop at a cemetery on the side of the road in picturesque Coleville, CA .
Antelope Valley Cemetery has a lot in common with many desert cemeteries, and I was struck by the haunting figures guarding some of the graves. Here are some quick unedited snaps of my new friends. Enjoy!
Lizard!
Chasing Clowns and Burial Grounds
Are you ready for photos from the Tonopah Clown Motel?
Welcome to Part II of my photographic journey from Vegas to Vallejo, CA!
First, let’s warm up with some photos of some ruins and abandoned buildings from the ghost town of Rhyolite, NV that I visited on my way to Tonopah.
Clown Motel!
The rooms are pretty normal (aside from a couple of framed sad clowns hanging over the headboards). Let’s take a little tour of the magic that awaits in the motel’s lobby, shall we?
The lobby features a selection of old treasures available for purchase, as well as Clown Motel mugs, tees and postcards.
Then there’s the old Tonopah Cemetery conveniently located right next door to the Clown Motel!
Did you know there’s ANOTHER cemetery just down the street from the Clown Motel? It’s the *new* Tonopah Cemetery!
Destruction and Tonopah-related graffiti over the border near Benton, CA.
Are you cravin’ more creepin’? The journey to Vallejo continues…stay tuned!
On The Road To Tonopah
I’m writing this from the guest bedroom belonging to my ladyfriends in Vallejo, CA. It has been more than three years since I last made my way up to the Bay Area for a visit and I was way overdue. (My ladies just opened a cafe here, so if you’re ever in the ‘hood do yourself a favor and enjoy some quiche and coffee at LEAF on Marin St. in Vallejo.)
I drove up here, opting to take a meandering route north of Vegas and west/northwest of Tonopah, stopping at several ghost towns along the way. I even spent one night at the infamous Tonopah Clown Motel (those photos deserve their own post…stay tuned!).
Here are some unedited photos of some old cemeteries and abandoned places located between Las Vegas and Yosemite National Park. I hope you enjoy Part I of this who-knows-how-many-parts trip to Vallejo!
Armagosa Desert Memorial Cemetery, NV
Lizard!
Abandoned Armagosa
Desert Hills Cemetery, Beatty, NV
Bullfrog-Rhyolite Cemetery, Rhyolite, NV
Just outside of the cemetery fence in Rhyolite…
A single(?) grave pet cemetery!
Goldfield Cemetery, NV
Silver Peak Cemetery, NV
Perfect 10: Exploring Central Nevada’s Cemeteries
The other day Glenda and I drove up to Cathedral Gorge State Park for an overnight camping trip. Our adventuring included Glenda giving me a delightful massage in a tent, snoozing in said tent with her two puppies, and freeing Glenda’s truck from a rut in a dirt road somewhere between Pioche and Sunnyside, Nevada. These sisters were doin’ it for themselves!
Our travels also led us to what amounted to ten different cemeteries. Some were on the agenda and others were unexpected treats. Here are a whole lot of (mostly) cemetery photos straight from the ol’ Canon Rebel T2i. Enjoy!
Cemetery #1, Alamo Cemetery
I’m not sure if these random wooden cross-shaped grave markers just down the road from Alamo Cemetery are related to the main cemetery, and I have no idea who’s buried here, but there were a few of them scattered throughout this area.
Cemetery #2, Richardville Cemetery, Alamo
Cemetery #3, Caliente City Cemetery
Cemetery #4, Conaway Memorial Veterans Cemetery, Caliente
Cemetery #5, Caliente IOOF (Odd Fellows) Cemetery
Cemetery #6, Bullionville Cemetery, Pioche
Cemetery #7, Pioche IOOF and Masonic Cemetery
Cemetery #8, Pioche Public Cemetery
Cemetery #9, Boot Hill Cemetery, Pioche
Cemetery #10, St. Laurence Catholic Cemetery, Pioche
I’d be remiss in my duties if I didn’t post a few random shots from the trip, including a handful from Cathedral Gorge.
Pioche definitely boasts some strange tourist trappings.
Gem Theater, Pioche, NV
Until next time…
