Not even a breeze

One thing you never forget, growing up in northern North Dakota, is the relentless wind. 

On a visit home, recently, I caught myself staring at the windmill in our back yard.

I could not remember ever seeing it so still.  Even the frost was able to rest on its blades.

© 2010 Mike Anderson.  All rights reserved.

Wired

When electrical lines were strung across the plains, there were few obstacles.  With such a wide-open canvas, the power company took the shortest distance between two points... and created a straight line of symetry.

On a plain with few landmarks to distinguish here from there, the tall poles take on a distinguished look, until they walk toward the horizon and disappear.

 © 2009-2011 Mike Anderson.  All rights reserved.

You're never at the end of the road

This summer, I was invited to an event that turned into much more than just another speaking engagement.  The conference was hosted by ART, a trade organization whose members include interior designers, artists, manufacturers and retailers involved with the home furnishings industry.  In addition to workshops and presentations, participants—more than a hundred of us—had volunteered to work for a half-day on behalf of Jericho Road, a housing renewal effort created by the Episcopal Church.

At around noon on Friday, we boarded two charter buses for a trip to the urban neighborhood, where four houses had been built prior to our arrival.  Within four hours, the group would completely finish and furnish the interiors of all four homes, and make them ready for their new owners to arrive.  As we stepped off the bus, I noticed a man, sitting on the curb, as if he had reached the end of the road.

Manufacturers and retail sponsors had donated truck loads of furniture, sculptures, paintings and other artwork… to turn these inner-city homes into the kind of showcases that one might see in the pages of Architectural Digest.  It wasn’t just about the merchandise; it was the way 100+ volunteers—led by four expert design stars—approached the assignment with such passion and know-how.

There are many worthy non-profit organizations that help build homes for people in need.  But even seven years after Hurricane Katrina, New Orleans’ need runs deep.  Pressed into the mud in front of one of the houses that was still a tattered shell, I saw a piece of cardboard that someone had fashioned into a sign of despair:  "Homeless and Hungry... God Bless." 

That note of desperation amplified the good that Jericho Road and its' volunteers are doing, rebuilding entire neighborhoods, and changing peoples’ lives for the better.  They don’t just build and finish a home; they overhaul entire city blocks, and then move beyond, re-planting trees and shrubs far into their neighboring area.  A single homeowner or family does not benefit from a Jericho Road house… the entire community becomes a better place.

A church should always serve to build their congregation’s faith in God.  But having the opportunity to work side-by-side with the people of Jericho Road and ART… I also felt a renewed faith in people. 

My primary job during the afternoon was to photograph the before-and-after success of each of the four design/finishing teams.  But I also tried to capture the essence of the day; people working together, smiling through the sweat, and proving that when people are willing to help one another... you're never at the end of the road.  

To see more photos from this amazing experience, just click here to jump to my Photobucket page. 

© 2012  Mike Anderson.  All rights reserved.

A bridge to nowhere

Even the end of the road can be an interesting place.

 © 2007-2011  Mike Anderson.  All rights reserved.

The locked door

The irony caught my eye.

The salty air of the sea had all but stripped  the paint, and degraded the wood to little more than mush.

Still, the premise was protected by padlock.

© 2010-2011 Mike Anderson. All rights reserved.

Dog tired

They appeared in numbers too large to count. Some traveled solo and others in packs. But either way, you could tell that survival was tiring for the stray dogs we saw throughout the Dominican.

They did not hide their exhaustion well.

© 2010 – 2012 Mike Anderson. All rights reserved.

Stone road

It was a winding country lane, connecting farms with the distant city.

I wondered how long it took to build these stone rails, and when it had been done.  The structure looked as if it had been there for centuries, and would be there centuries more.

© 2010 – 2011, Mike Anderson.  All rights reserved.

Man's best friend

Dogs are abundant, roaming free and unattended, as if they are no less a part of society than humans.  It seemed to us that people do not adopt dogs in the Dominican Republic, but rather, that dogs adopt people.

On an afternoon walk, we spotted a puppy who had laid claim to the front porch of a man who sat in the shade. Both thought it a good time and place to relax.

It was an obvious partnership, at least in the dog’s eyes.

© 2010 - 2011 Mike Anderson. All rights reserved.

House cleaning

Dominicans have a great deal of pride in the places they live.

It shows.

© 2010 – 2011 Mike Anderson. All rights reserved.

A city, reflecting on itself

It was not the look of the bold, futuristic skyscraper that caught my eye.  On the contrary, it was the way it served as a mirror, so the city could reflect on its heritage. 

© 2011 Mike Anderson.  All rights reserved.

Outside, looking in

The classroom did not have a chair for him… so he was content to absorb what knowledge he could through the slats of an open-air window. 

© 2011 Mike Anderson.  All rights reserved.

When faces tell stories

The man was unknown to me, but his tired appearance drew me in.  With a sack of clothes near his feet and the bag of food he had tied to a nearby chain-link fence, I wondered whether this was the beginning of a journey, or an end. (In this part of the world, people often hang their foodstuffs to keep them out of reach of stray dogs.)

As he surveyed the market square, his expression swayed from curiosity to confusion... as if he had misplaced his years, and was scanning the neighborhood to see if he might find them. Is that what made him clutch his chest near his heart?

Though not a professional photographer, I have realized the most revealing pictures are often in black and white. They allow us to focus on feelings rather than colors; nothing is left to distract from the heart and soul of the moment.

© 2010-2011 Mike Anderson. All rights reserved.

Cauldron of coffee

My appreciation for java runs deep.  Once upon a time, I drank a pot of coffee each day… perhaps more.  So believe me when I say that this was like the deep aroma that envelops you while walking past a storefront coffee shop… multiplied by a hundred.  The beans, recently picked and dried, were roasting over a fire in a huge cauldron. 

There were no fancy machines, no exotic menus with beverages one can barely pronounce; just fire, cast iron, and beans.

Simply... perfect.

© 2011 Mike Anderson.  All rights reserved.

Shy child

We were being given a tour through a traditional Dominican farm, where families harvest fruits, flowers, cacao, and coffee.  As we weaved between the small houses and outbuildings, we noticed a young girl was shadowing our moves, but too shy to approach.  For the longest time, she kept her distance, but was clearly interested in the foreigners who were walking the grounds.

Suddenly, when we were focused on something else, Julie felt a soft touch on her arm.  She turned to see the girl’s out-stretched hand, offering her a freshly picked flower.  Once Julie accepted it, the girl turned and darted out of sight, again demonstrating her bashful nature.

But shy as she was, she glanced from around the building, to see if the flower made Julie smile…

It did.

© 2010-2011 Mike Anderson.  All rights reserved.

Chairs

The climate is reliably pleasant in the mountains of the Dominican.  Homes are appointed with ample doors and windows, strewn open so as to let the houses breathe-in the tropical air.

One farmhouse we passed, in particular, had a familial charm all its own.  Its belongs, while humble, seemed happy; the worn decor suggested that children had played here, grown here, and then gone on their way.  Mother and father stayed behind to reflect on their years together, and wait for the kids to return... as evidenced by the open doors and the two rocking chairs, still carefully placed side-by-side.  (Click the photo to enlarge.)

© 2010 – 2011, Mike Anderson.  All rights reserved.