Page 8 - Demo

6days, I dropped it off to be developed. When I returned, at the end of the week, to pick up my very first batch of photographs, I was disappointed%u2014they just weren%u2019t very good. But I wasn%u2019t discouraged. I figured I needed a better camera. So, I bought a roll of film for my parent%u2019s much newer Brownie Hawkeye%u2014which they hardly ever used%u2014and took more pictures. Again, the quality was pretty bad. Now, I was discouraged. For some reason, I%u2019ve kept the negatives from those first two rolls of film for almost 50 years%u2014despite their poor composition and lack-of-focus. They show relatives (some now deceased), the house we moved away from in 1963, my red-and-white 24%u201d Huffy bicycle, and a push cart I put together out of scrap lumber and scrounged wagon wheels. As the years passed, I put photography on hold, and turned my attention to transportation. I replaced my Huffy with a new 26%u201d Schwinn that had a shiny chrome front fork with spring suspension. Then, in my early teens, I built a mini-bike out of %u00bd%u201d steel water pipe and a Briggs-andStratton lawn-mower engine. When it was finished, and painted Rust-Oleum blue, it didn%u2019t look half bad%u2014and its 1%u00bd-horsepower propelled me along just fine. As I rode it all over town, I started thinking about putting together my own automobile.I was inspired by a series of articles in Car Craft magazine with the no-nonsense title, %u201cHow to Build a Hot Rod.%u201d Fortunately, the articles were well-written and easy-to-follow. It wasn%u2019t a project most boys would consider tackling, but I made my way through axles and suspension, brakes and steering, engine and transmission, then electrical wiring, learning how each component worked%u2014repairing, rebuilding, and repainting wherever necessary. As I prepared for my senior year of high school, I completed the construction process, and painted it Ford Mustang Poppy Red%u2014a stand-out bittersweet orange.As I hack-sawed, drilled, sanded, filed, and welded, I borrowed my parent%u2019s camera again%u2014they%u2019d upgraded to an Instamatic%u2014and took snapshots of my car%u2019s progress. Sadly, my photographic skills were not improving. I was, at the time, a hands-on, left-brain sort of kid who preferred math, physics, and drafting courses, rather than history and Latin. Art and literature were outside my sphere of interest. But I was still interested in taking pictures so, after entering Purdue, I contacted a photography instructor in the Art department, to see if I could take his class. He was polite, but firm. The course was only open to Art majors, and I wasn%u2019t one.Shortly after college, Lynn and I met, got married and, after a few years, bought a decrepit 1850%u2019s Federal-style farmhouse on the outskirts of Lafayette. About midway through the renovation, when we were in our late twenties, we purchased a used 35-mm Minolta camera. We took it along on day trips to Chicago, and elsewhere. But we primarily used it to photograph Lynn%u2019s artwork, and to document the restoration of our old house. I had fun with that camera, and my pictures were getting somewhat better, but they still weren%u2019t anything noteworthy.For the next major stage of our journey through life, Lynn and I decided to put our newly restored farmhouse on the market, and relocate to Bloomington. Our decision was baffling to friends and relatives but, on the very day we painted the last wall, we called up a Realtor, and the house was sold within 24 hours. The idea of moving to Bloomington wasn%u2019t completely outof-the-blue. In fact, it had been in our thoughts for several years. When we%u2019d honeymooned at the big yellow-brick hotel in French Lick (It was a Sheraton back then.), we%u2019d fallen in love with the wooded hills of southern Indiana and, in particular, with Bloomington. Its large liberal-arts university and casual, arty atmosphere just felt right to us. We had no job prospects in Bloomington, and knew no one there, so my left-brained self wasn%u2019t involved with the decision, but an emerging right-brained part of me was. In short, Lynn and I simply trusted that Destiny would lead the way%u2014and it did. After a few years in Bloomington, we became full-time authors, wrote several books on building healthy houses and living healthy lifestyles%u2014and we