Dave Raphael

John is a fairly seminal character in my life.  I worked on my first paid job in the motion picture industry with him in 1993 or ’94.  Three summers ago, during one of those breakup inspired lost weekends that lasted eight months, I caught up with him in LA and we wound up camping in Joshua Tree for the weekend.  It was early August.  By the time we got back to LA I was sold on Burning Man, it was time.  I had heard about the festival for years but I had other things going on in the desert and it just didnt have the appeal until then.  Two weeks later I was headed up to black rock with a car full of excitement and the first sign of being alive that I had been trying to discover for months and months and months and months.  Hope and Fear provided no sign of John.  Keep in mind I knew exactly where his camp was and went there every day for a week, but thats the way it goes at Black Rock City.  Went back the next year with fully organized plans to meet up.  Again, a week went by and The Green Man didnt not produce the meeting we were hoping for.  So it goes.  Last year I was sitting in the camp across the street from me and noticed some sky divers.  What the fuck, I’ll roll over to Mystical Misfits and see if he turns up.  Sho’ nuff, as I got off my bike there’s John packing up his parachute.  I suppose this is what you look like right after you jump out of a plane…

Over his shoulder while he packed his ‘chute, one of the dancers from the camp next door climbed up on the three stories of scaffold to twirl through the air.  John had the good fortune to build his township of a camp right next door to a commune of dancers mostly from the North West.

Ive photographed a few sky divers right after they’ve landed but this was the first time I ever watched, with full attention, someone pack a parachute.  I’m still really amazed at how simple the mechanics of the pack are.  As John put it that afternoon, “you dont worry about the chute not opening, you worry about it staying closed”.  Good times were had that afternoon which was three years in the making.  This roll of film got blasted off in the first five or six minutes of that communion and while it must seem somewhat pedestrian overall, it was a bit of a milestone moment for me that might make a burner or two crack a smile.

My buddy Kevin and his lovely wife Jenny just had their first baby.  Speaking with him reminded me I had shot this series two years ago.  I was in LA mixing a movie for a friend and on a weekend off drove up to SF in total monsoon conditions.  What is usually a five or six hour drive took me eleven that day, the 5 was closed around Ft. Tejon because of snow, everyone thinks California is all sunshine and bikini’s…  After a wet night out, I met up with Kevin in the mission the next afternoon, caught a bit of a jazz band playing, went for a wet stroll and drank the night away.  Here is an excerpt from the days film.

San Francisco still has a pirate FM station.  Your city just isn’t cool until you have real pirate radio.

This dog sat watch at the top of the hill, below the park.

The Gentrified Mission.  Few years and a few dollars can change everything…

old time bro, ex bandmate, entrepreneur, and now dad.  I have some rad friends.

This is one of the many things DC missed this year because apparently staying home and quilting was more important than this shit…  I think this was Thursday afternoon.  The changing contrast in these photos is a reflection of the changing air density at center camp, there was a big dust storm brewing and as the wind kicked up, this was a quick glimpse of what was in store…

A study of our decline, indeed. Laser 3.14 is one of my favorite poets and positively the pulse of Amsterdam. Walking around town, my day is always brightened when I come across one of his pieces. His tags can be found mostly on construction sites and as such, are largely temporary. Here’s quick sample of what you can expect to see if you walk down the right path.