Jerry Mann

Jerry Mann
Photographer

Updates happen...

Website:
jerrymann.com

Photoshelter:
my.photoshelter.com/jerrymann

All photos and text are © Jerry Mann
October 16
“From a Farmer,” 2006. After Sally and I moved to Cleveland Heights, some friends led us down the hill into East Cleveland to visit a farmers market. Driving there, as we passed through sadly neglected neighborhoods, we had our doubts. But when we walked into the Coit Road Farmers Market we were excited to find a haven for local food sources. Going to this market week after week ever since, we received our education in buying and eating local. I am thankful that farm markets are again the cool thing, and I hope the message is getting through that we need to get our food from local sources. Supporting our farmers through a neighborhood market is the best way to go. I have been donating my services to the Coit Market since 2006, documenting their events, the people and the food. I am donating the above photo as a raffle item at their first-ever benefit event, “A Taste of Autumn 2009,” being held this Monday night at the Beachland Ballroom. If anyone is looking for a fun way to spend an evening for a good cause, I would recommend buying a ticket. Featuring several local chefs who will prepare dishes from locally acquired food, the evening will be MC’d by Fred Griffith, a local food guy in his own right. There will be raffles, special guests and awards and old time music by the Coit Road Ramblers, a eclectic group of musicians that have been fiddling around at the market for a while now. In operation since 1932, the Coit Road Farmers Market has never strayed from its mission: bringing exclusively locally-farmed food to people in the city. Farmers have been delivering their apples, corn, melons and tomatoes to the corner of Coit and Woodworth for 77 years, all the while watching America shift away from their closest source of fresh food: the farms that surround their communities. The Coit Market, which stays open all year round, serves a community that is struggling to pull itself up by its bootstraps. Being the first farmers market in Northeast Ohio that offers their farmers the ability to sell their products to food stamp recipients, Coit Market has greatly increased farmers’ outreach to people who find it hard to find fresh, healthy and nutritious food. They have a very cool community garden on their property, and also leases plots to urban farmers who sell their bounty at the market’s stands. Market manager Kevin Scheuring (AKA The Spice Hound) and I have a plot of hops growing, and have an experimental plot of winter wheat going in the ground this weekend—sounds like the makings for a nice Hefeweizen! Please consider attending the benefit. It would be a great way to spice up a cold October evening. All of the great things at the Coit Market that are giving the community hope are dependent on the generosity of volunteers and donations. To order tickets, click here or visit the Coit Market’s by clicking this link. And come on down to the market while the harvest is still in! www.jerrymann.com

“From a Farmer,” 2006.

After Sally and I moved to Cleveland Heights, some friends led us down the hill into East Cleveland to visit a farmers market. Driving there, as we passed through sadly neglected neighborhoods, we had our doubts. But when we walked into the Coit Road Farmers Market we were excited to find a haven for local food sources. Going to this market week after week ever since, we received our education in buying and eating local.

I am thankful that farm markets are again the cool thing, and I hope the message is getting through that we need to get our food from local sources. Supporting our farmers through a neighborhood market is the best way to go. I have been donating my services to the Coit Market since 2006, documenting their events, the people and the food.

I am donating the above photo as a raffle item at their first-ever benefit event, “A Taste of Autumn 2009,” being held this Monday night at the Beachland Ballroom. If anyone is looking for a fun way to spend an evening for a good cause, I would recommend buying a ticket.

Featuring several local chefs who will prepare dishes from locally acquired food, the evening will be MC’d by Fred Griffith, a local food guy in his own right. There will be raffles, special guests and awards and old time music by the Coit Road Ramblers, a eclectic group of musicians that have been fiddling around at the market for a while now.

In operation since 1932, the Coit Road Farmers Market has never strayed from its mission: bringing exclusively locally-farmed food to people in the city. Farmers have been delivering their apples, corn, melons and tomatoes to the corner of Coit and Woodworth for 77 years, all the while watching America shift away from their closest source of fresh food: the farms that surround their communities.

The Coit Market, which stays open all year round, serves a community that is struggling to pull itself up by its bootstraps. Being the first farmers market in Northeast Ohio that offers their farmers the ability to sell their products to food stamp recipients, Coit Market has greatly increased farmers’ outreach to people who find it hard to find fresh, healthy and nutritious food.

They have a very cool community garden on their property, and also leases plots to urban farmers who sell their bounty at the market’s stands. Market manager Kevin Scheuring (AKA The Spice Hound) and I have a plot of hops growing, and have an experimental plot of winter wheat going in the ground this weekend—sounds like the makings for a nice Hefeweizen!

Please consider attending the benefit. It would be a great way to spice up a cold October evening. All of the great things at the Coit Market that are giving the community hope are dependent on the generosity of volunteers and donations. To order tickets, click here or visit the Coit Market’s by clicking this link. And come on down to the market while the harvest is still in!

www.jerrymann.com

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September 23
Wedges of all kinds eventually split the impossible split. So, I guess this is another “dream the impossible dream” post. Yeah, you know the story, you’re feelin’ blue and you say “fugedabowdit” (forget about it). You walk outside and start raking some leaves, or pushing some dirt around, or splitting a twisted 14-inch cherry log. And you had pulled the log off someone’s tree lawn a year ago because it was saying to you, “firewood,” or “fireside bench,” or “I dare you to lift me into the back of your pickup truck.” And your back recovered from that, and now you are learning why the arboriculturist left it on the tree lawn in one huge chunk. The wedges—steel and wood alike—are getting wedged. Now one is stuck so tight the others must come to its rescue. And along the way you notice the split is running around the log’s circumference and you won’t have a flat bench, but a conversation piece with a 90-degree twist, or firewood. You are learning why some logs are so hard to split that it’s not worth trying. You knew it would be tough, but you tried it anyway, and now your back, your arms, your hands are paying. And you give up and go in for some water. You come back out to give up, but must rescue one last wedged wedge. And five minutes later you see the log is giving up. And before you go in for dinner, and after another five mosquito bites, you have two pieces of very twisted cherry. Its not pretty, but you learned a lot along the way. By the way, happy equinox… everything should be balanced out right about now.

Wedges of all kinds eventually split the impossible split.

So, I guess this is another “dream the impossible dream” post. Yeah, you know the story, you’re feelin’ blue and you say “fugedabowdit” (forget about it). You walk outside and start raking some leaves, or pushing some dirt around, or splitting a twisted 14-inch cherry log. And you had pulled the log off someone’s tree lawn a year ago because it was saying to you, “firewood,” or “fireside bench,” or “I dare you to lift me into the back of your pickup truck.” And your back recovered from that, and now you are learning why the arboriculturist left it on the tree lawn in one huge chunk.

The wedges—steel and wood alike—are getting wedged. Now one is stuck so tight the others must come to its rescue. And along the way you notice the split is running around the log’s circumference and you won’t have a flat bench, but a conversation piece with a 90-degree twist, or firewood.

You are learning why some logs are so hard to split that it’s not worth trying. You knew it would be tough, but you tried it anyway, and now your back, your arms, your hands are paying. And you give up and go in for some water.

You come back out to give up, but must rescue one last wedged wedge. And five minutes later you see the log is giving up. And before you go in for dinner, and after another five mosquito bites, you have two pieces of very twisted cherry. Its not pretty, but you learned a lot along the way.

By the way, happy equinox… everything should be balanced out right about now.

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June 30

“Reach for the stars!” said the note written with bubbly handwriting in my high school yearbook. Written by a cheerleader, no doubt. There I was, in 1982, imagining extending my arm and trying to grab a constellation. It seemed futile, impossible.

That cheer should’ve been slightly less ambitious, more obtainable in a real sense… like, “Jerry, see that fly buzzing around the top of the ceiling? If you put your mind to it, you could snatch him in your hand… just think of the satisfaction you’d glean! Just start with the fly and we’ll take it from there.” Yeah… something a bit more tangible for a kid raised in a subdivision on classic rock and lawnmower fumes. (Even the Round Tuit that Mom gave me didn’t seem to work.)

Through the ups and downs of the past quarter century I’ve figured one thing: DOING is the key to success. Do one thing, and it leads to another Done thing. One success builds on the last. You get used to Doing and suddenly being lazy seems sort of boring.

As a freelancer its easy to get in a rut, especially when most of my daytime conversations are with the dog. One recent journal entry was sounding pretty grim. I was struck by how many 40-somethings I’ve heard of keeling over (see previous entry). I was comparing myself to all the other photographers in the world. I was thinking about how I never reached for the stars like the cheerleader said to. “Sink or swim,” I scrawled. “I could croak tomorrow. Everyone is dying at late-40’s. I am not immune. Die Happy or Sad. Heaven or Hell.” (Oh jiminy, do I hear an intervention at the door?)

Well, the writing helped, because the next day I DID something. I published a website that was more than a hobbled-together affair. For years I had made excuses to everyone as to why my website was not happening. I finally got my hands on a template that allowed me to put it together—I’ll save the tech talk…basically the template is a godsend. Check out my new site here!

So I’m all happy about that for a day or two, then I get this email from Photoshelter (the web site I used while jerrymann.com was “under construction”). I was chosen as one of 20 photographers to be featured on their homepage in a slideshow in June! I spent the next 3 days clicking on their site, waiting for my one photo to show up (I’ve never won a photo contest before). My 30 days of fame were extended into July a few extra days, but have finally run out. But you can always see my galleries at my Photoshelter page: click here.

So that was nice… I then decided if I could accomplish those things, I could certainly move the 400 pound sandstone slab from our back steps. That’s what the video is about. They did it with the pyramids, so…. That turned out to be the easy part. I spent the next week digging out roots and clay soil, laying under the steps to repair the masonry (yeah, underneath. In the creepy, dark area), and rebuilding the brickwork under the bottom step. The main goal was to relevel the sandstone, and that was accomplished 2 hours and 27 minutes before our Solstice Party began.

One Did leads to another Done. The next amazing feat was taking our yard from construction zone to party zone. Never fear! Aim high! Reach for the stars! Or that little old fly.

www.jerrymann.com

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My work as featured at Photoshelter’s website in June. I was with a world-class group: other shooters were from Brussels, Beijing, Dublin, London, etc.

My work as featured at Photoshelter’s website in June. I was with a world-class group: other shooters were from Brussels, Beijing, Dublin, London, etc.

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May 28
On a Train. In memory of Ramon Owens, a fellow OU Phodog. Obit - Photos - Blog

On a Train.


In memory of Ramon Owens, a fellow OU Phodog.

Obit - Photos - Blog

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May 22
Chasing Madame Curie. May 12, 2009

Chasing Madame Curie. May 12, 2009

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May 20
John Ranally cuts a rebar support as he frees the Madame Curie bronze from its plaster mold. May 4, 2009.

John Ranally cuts a rebar support as he frees the Madame Curie bronze from its plaster mold. May 4, 2009.

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May 14
John Ranally of The Studio Foundry pours molten bronze into the plaster investment mold of Madame Curie, a sculpture by Timothy Riffle of Brownhoist Studios. May 2, 2009.

John Ranally of The Studio Foundry pours molten bronze into the plaster investment mold of Madame Curie, a sculpture by Timothy Riffle of Brownhoist Studios. May 2, 2009.

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May 9
“Airplane,” pinhole camera self-portrait. From the series, “Hands: Recollection of Dad,” 1996.

“Airplane,” pinhole camera self-portrait.

From the series, “Hands: Recollection of Dad,” 1996.

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May 6
Christian Klotz, January, 2008. Pinhole camera image.

Christian Klotz, January, 2008. Pinhole camera image.

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