United

United, a photo by meagan.wedgewood on Flickr.

Last June, This American Life had a story on the situation here in Wisconsin, focusing mainly on the contentious state senator recalls. The reporter, Ben Calhoun, said something that I thought rang particularly true:

"Wisconsin is a big rural state, but it is not conservative; its politics are in the middle, leaning a little toward the left. Organized labor has a long history in the state, and Wisconsin has gone Democratic in every presidential election since Reagan. Bottom line - it's moderate - polite and civil and moderate. That right there is really the break that Scott Walker has made. His plan, whether you love it or you hate it, was a big move away from the middle. He's pulled a pretty moderate state dramatically toward an extreme, and done something they don't do in Wisconsin - he's picked a fight. And he's forced a lot of people who don't like to fight to choose sides anyway."

After my husband and I voted, heading up to the Capitol Square seemed like the natural thing to do as we were only a few blocks away. We reached it right as the polls were closing.

I haven't spent a lot of time at the Capitol during political events since I hung out with the protestors in February 2011. On that day, it felt like everyone was there for one purpose; though there were thousands of people in the Capitol, they were moving together as one unit, all part of the same vehicle using their momentum to head toward the same destination.

On Election Night, the scene was muddled, contradictory, like a cell without a nucleus. There were singers and people with signs, of course. I saw a lot of people I recognized as students and journalists. But there were others who looked and behaved like they were there from out of town, just there for the show. I saw contentious arguments. I watched as an angry Recall supporter jumped in front of a local news camera, interrupting the reporter who was probably on his 18th hour of being awake and just trying to do his job. It was a stark and shocking contrast from the feeling a year and a half ago, to say the least.

Most of all I could feel the moment when the crowd deflated, when it the air changed from hopeful optimism that the initial results were only from a few small rural precincts to the realization that this was happening. This was really happening. It was like air being let out of a balloon as people quieted down, peeled off, and drifted away.

 No matter how you feel about the political situation, hopefully there's some empathy with the people who were disappointed that night, people who had worked hard for change only to be brought solidly back to square one in just one day.

"What happens now?" I kept asking my husband on our walk home that night. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a steep cliff, knowing that as a population we were going to have to move forward somehow but not sure how or to where we were going. I felt proud of my state, of all the people, Democratic and Republican, who had worked hard and fought for what they believed in, no matter what that was. But at the same time, I felt sad for everyone, not just the "losers," but everyone, as Ben Calhoun pointed out, who had to pick a side, who had the comfortable grey area pulled out from under them. In the past year and a half, my Wisconsin has become unrecognizable with blistering letters to the editor, people screaming at each other, people dumping beer on lawmaker's heads or tearing up recall petitions. Wisconsin has been and has felt divided, and as much as I love this state, that's not the Wisconsin I want to live in.

The photo above is misleading. I love the image of the bright Capitol building in the background, the center of our state government, bright and shining like the City on the Hill. The Overpass Light Brigade set up on the lawn, their signs declaring "The People United." The photo is idyllic, hopeful. But I can't help but feel less united as a state than ever before.

More photos from Election Night can be seen over on my Flickr.

Disbelief

Sunset, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

When the news of what happened to the geese hit me tonight, I didn’t feel it at first. This was the end, the conclusion to a long-expected outcome. Like the bereaved planning a funeral, I methodically set about taking the next steps: writing a statement and passing it along to the people who needed to know, our supporters and the media. I had a focus, at least for a little while.

I have always been the kind of person who does not dwell on what is happening now but rather is always asking what is next. This fight has been no different. We’re at point A -- what’s point B? Where do we go from here? What is the next step? What do we do now? I have always been a person of action, which I think is why this stillness feels so strange to me; now that everyone has been notified, the information is starting to percolate out, I am sitting alone in my empty apartment thinking, how could this have happened?

As children, we’re taught that we can do anything, at least I was. I was told that I could achieve anything I set my mind to, and for the most part, I have with few exceptions. Bit by bit, things unravel, and those “truths” of childhood resonate in my mind: You can do anything you set your mind to. Right will always win. Your representatives will listen to you. Adulthood complicates things that shouldn’t be complicated, clouds things that should be clear. Can I, really? Will they, really?

There were many times in this fight that I threw my hands up and said, I don’t have time for this. I don’t want to deal with this. Why is this happening again? I don’t want to do this. A friend of mine finally asked me, “Then why are you doing it?”

I have to. And if not now, when? This isn’t something that can be added to a to-do list. No one wakes up in the morning and thinks to themselves, maybe now I’ll work on that goose problem. It is never going to be convenient to stand up for what’s right. And if I don’t, who will?

The city of Madison has fufilled its end of the promise to use “any means necessary -- including killing” to curb its goose problem. Two days ago, hundreds of geese were rounded up and executed. Sitting here tonight in stunned silence, I may not know what the next step will be. But I know without a shadow of a doubt that this is far from over.

The photo above was taken last year at Warner Park with one of the Indy cameras, which is why the shot came out so grainy. It was the end of April, and at the time we were all talking about the Warner Park flock's proximity to the airport. I used a telephoto to snap a few photos of the birds just as the sun was setting.

Talking it Over

Talking it Over, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

These ducks were seriously hesitant about whether or not to jump in Monona Bay. John and I walked through Brittingham Park this evening on our way to dinner on Park Street. Even though we've lived in this neighborhood for nearly a year, we hadn't yet visited the beautiful park only a block from our house. It was cool and breezy, more April weather than June, a far cry from the over 90 degrees it was yesterday. We walked along the bike path and came across this rickety dock holding its own against the choppy waves. I think there were six ducks relaxing on it when we walked up; two jumped in right away and four seriously thought it over before plunging into the cold water.

I love the photo above because it looks like the duck all the way on the left is trying to convince the other three, "Hey guys, come on. It's not going to be that bad." And the Hipstamatic makes everything look epic.

Marks the Spot

US District Courthouse, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

Taken at the Kastenmeier US District Courthouse in Madison, Wisconsin, May 2011.

I am apparently among the lucky few who haven't gotten hassled while taking a photo of this odd building in downtown Madison. I figure it has something to do with me being female, and at the time the photo was taken, tipsy and laying on the ground that made Big Brother shrug and go back to his crossword puzzle.

John and I have passed by this building hundreds of times on our way to and from the grocery store, State Street, etc. I have always thought it was a hideous purple monstrosity, something a five year old limited to purple Legos might build. The neon light fixture clashes with the deep purple of the building itself, neon suited more for bars and beer signs than courthouses.

I have only been hassled a handful of times when taking photos, as recently as last week. There was only one time where I felt like I was in actual danger, and I didn't feel that until much later, until the shock of what had happened wore off. Fortunately for me I happened to be in a lobby of a police station and the Lieutenant stepped in before anything could escalate. "She's in a public place," he yelled at the guy who had gotten in my face, stepping between us as I stood frozen, too dumbfounded to even spit out one syllable. "This is public record. She can take all the pictures she wants."

I know my rights. That one incident was reason enough for me to educate myself on what they are. I'm polite enough to stop if someone asks me to stop. I didn't see a soul while taking this particular photo. I'm not sure how I would have responded if I had. But just because I didn't see them doesn't mean they didn't see me.  :)

Take Me To Your Leader

Monona Terrace, October 2010.


I love the wacky architecture and unexpectedness of Monona Terrace in Madison. I've taken photos there before, striving to be different than the stereotypical touristy looking photos. The photo above captures that, I think.

It was taken after a particularly gluttonous trip to the Great Dane for dinner when John and I attempted to consume a turtle sundae for dessert. Big mistake. It was huge! I joked that we were going to have to be rolled down the hill toward home. Instead we waddled over to Monona Terrace, trying to walk off all that ice cream.

I barely remember taking this photo but I'm quite proud of it, as I haven't quite figured out how to take effective night shots. I have also been struggling to find a way to make those light fixtures look interesting; it has been difficult for me to capture the angles I can clearly see in person but have been unable to recreate on camera. The photo above does both nicely.

Wisconsin State Capitol Stairs

Wisconsin State Capitol Stairs, 2011.


John and I visited the State Capitol a few months ago to check out the Assembly Chambers as a possible wedding ceremony site. I hadn't been in any of the Capitol rooms since grade school field trips and barely remembered what they looked like. I'd read online that couples could use rooms in the Capitol for their ceremonies, and I knew at once that was where we'd get married.

I remember hearing once when I was younger and just starting to drive in the big, scary world on my own that all roads in Madison lead to the Capitol. It's sort of true; Madison is a concentrically designed city, with the Capitol as the center point and all major roads branching out from it like spokes on a wheel.

But since I moved downtown, I've started to think about that phrase more and more in a philosophical sense. We are always around the Capitol - going out at night, restaurants, Farmers' Markets, getting from here to there. Even when we're not near it, it's a beacon on the skyline, and I always get a little shiver when it unexpectedly pops into view, towering brightly over everything else.

So it was only fitting that it was where John proposed, and it would be the location where we would hold our wedding ceremony, in the grandness of the Assembly Chambers.

A month or so after John and I woke up early on a Wednesday to visit the Capitol during business hours, the building was flooded with protestors, the drama unfolding on the national stage. Suddenly everyone, everyone was talking about the Madison Capitol building, the Assembly, the protests. A building that was virtually empty less than a month before was overflowing, bursting with people and noise and heat. After a frantic call from the Sergeant at Arms, we finally secured our date a month after we originally intended, which is fine. "I've worked here for 14 years," he told me on the phone, "and I've never seen anything like this."

I assured him I was fine with it, that we didn't have our hearts set on the date but we were not willing to compromise on the location.

The photo above was taken on our first visit to the Assembly Chambers, long before Scott Walker made his announcement, long before the protestors came in droves. I was attracted to the scrollwork on the stairs, the lines and framing, the attention to detail.

A Day With the Protesters in Madison

The following is my column this week from the Reedsburg Independent regarding my experiences at the protests in Madison on February 17:

On a normal day, I wake up at 6 a.m. to drive from Madison to the Reedsburg Independent. Last Thursday, the news from Reedsburg came to me. There had been rumblings all week of protests at the Capitol Square, and though I live less than a mile from it, I had avoided the area up until then.

Despite my minor obsession with 10 p.m. news broadcasts, I didn’t really have a grasp of what was going on up there; I had watched but not really paid attention to it, because it seemed farther off like TV news can’t help but seem. Last Thursday, I woke up, grabbed a cup of coffee and headed up the hill to see what I could see. 

It was a damp, cloudy spring day, the kind of wet cold that sticks to you. I was traveling light - small camera bag slung over my shoulder with only the necessities - notepad, pen, lens cleaner, one credit card and my camera on a hand strap.

I bounced up steep West Washington, fidgeting with the nervous, frenetic energy of not knowing what to expect. The Capitol building loomed ahead, and not many people had gathered outside yet. I was told specifically to look for Reedsburg teachers, having no idea how I would spot them in the reported crowd of 30,000. I wandered around outside for awhile, out of habit walking counter-clockwise around the Capitol, the same direction in which car traffic and Farmers’ Market foot traffic flows. There was litter everywhere, and I found out later that the police weren’t allowing sticks in the Capitol, so many people were breaking them off their signs and leaving them by the entrance.

The inside of the Capitol building always has an orange hue to it, relying on dim sconces and daylight coming through the skylights. I  had visited only a few weeks before on Super Bowl Sunday; my fiance and I seemed to be the only people in the entire massive and intimidating building. Last Thursday, the Capitol was surging with people, that orange hue bouncing off thousands of red T-shirts, voices and drums echoing off the marble and high ceilings. “It sounds like a gym in there,” I heard someone remark.

And it was hot. Hot in the way that relatives’ small houses get hot during the holidays with all the people talking and moving around. At my aunt’s house, someone always has to crack open the sliding patio door and let the freezing winter air in. But at the Capitol, there was nowhere for that stifling, stagnant air to go, and it made the whole building feel smaller, the walls closer together.

I have heard reports of tens of thousands of people filling the Capitol during these protests, and I don’t know how they come up with those numbers. But it was two hours before I saw someone  I recognized, when I finally and completely by dumb luck ran into Dave Moon and his family outside with their protest signs. I was so relieved that I nearly hyperventilated. Dave pointed me in the direction of more Reedsburg teachers and if it were not for his help, I don’t know how I would have found them. They were mainly stationed on the third floor above the Assembly room that morning, and I had been by there at least twice before that and not seen any of them.

The third floor (which is really the fourth level of the Capitol) was crowded by that time. But as someone who has lived in New York and experienced rush hour crush on the subway, and as someone who joined 215,000 of my closest friends at the Rally to Restore Sanity in Washington DC last year, I have to stress that even though it was hot and hard to get around, the people gathered in the Capitol last week were some of the nicest and most cordial people I have ever met. I never had a problem asking someone for their spot so I could briefly snap a photo, and there were people handing out more signs and bottles of water. Though people there are upset with Governor Walker and his proposed bill, they are polite and even kind to each other, and any news report that says differently is greatly exaggerating.

It was difficult to know what was happening with the people who were making the decisions that day. There was a TV with a live broadcast, but I couldn’t see it or hear it. Without my Twitter feed on my iPhone and people constantly tweeting updates about #wiunion, I would have had no idea what was going on. I never saw another Reedsburg teacher after I took a group shot that morning.

I left for lunch around 12:30, wandered down to a less crowded coffee shop a block from the Capitol square. When it came time to pay for my coffee and cookie, I had to peel my camera out of my right hand; my fingers had been clenched around it like a claw, and I had been pulling the hand strap so tightly that it had made red indents on the back of my hand.

After lunch, I headed back up to the square. More people had gathered outside - ironworkers, children, a drum circle, and Bucky Badger. I saw at least two different people dressed as Captain America and another one in a gorilla suit. I ducked into the Walgreens on the square for an energy drink and the store was crowded with people buying posterboard, cardboard boxes and markers.

I hiked around the inside until I got too warm and then did a few laps outside until I had cooled down, taking photos the whole time. People outside and inside were chanting, “Kill the bill,” and “This is what democracy looks like.” They were energized but uncertain, passionate but pessimistic. Somehow four more hours passed and looking back on it now, it feels like I had highway hypnosis, when your subconscious is focused on the task at hand while your conscious mind wanders and you arrive at your destination, wondering how you had gotten there.

As a reporter, I’ve grown comfortable observing and reporting, secure in not having an opinion and just relaying facts. And having spent a day with the protesters, taking their photos, watching them on the news, I still have no idea how I actually feel about the issues. So many thousands of people have converged on the Capitol to express their opinons for and against, and I am in awe of all of them.
==================================
The rest of my protest photos can be seen on my Flickr.

At Night

Wisconsin State Capitol, as seen from Monona Terrace, Madison.

This shot was meant to be a night version of this original, taken in the daytime. I can't decide which one I like better. The reflection of the Capitol looks so ghostly.

There are certain photographic themes I'm a huge sucker for, cool reflections being one of them. I love photos of the blue sky reflected in a glass building, just about anything reflected in a puddle, and even those stereotypical lake photos. You just can't go wrong with a good reflection.

Truck Series

HipstaTruck, taken yesterday at MadCat.

Slowly but surely working on a 2011 calendar for MadCat... we're probably going to use a photo of the truck for the cover. Now the assignment is to make the old girl look good.

I took the above pic with the Hipstamatic app on the iPhone. It's not the greatest calendar picture but I think it's pretty kickass anyway. The photo to the right is with my regular camera.

Andy wants to replace the numbers on the license plate with the year, 2011, so I laid on the parking lot to get this pic with the plate front and center and everything else kind of spreading out, looking epic. Didn't hurt that the skies in Wisconsin have been amazing lately - choppy and white, like the cotton ball creations we made while learning about clouds in second grade.  Stereotypical skies.

We'll figure it out.

Lucky Shot

Taken in the courtyard of Tobacco Row, Madison.

I always have my camera with me, and walking through the gorgeously groomed courtyard of our apartment building is never an exception. I had been eying the bright purple and contrasting orange on these flowers for quite some time, as well as the yellow and black bumble bees that frequent them. But I hadn't taken a photo of them yet for lack of ideas on how to make them interesting. After all, macros shots of flowers are like shooting fish in a barrel. It's not hard to make them look good. Making them look interesting is the challenge.

The above photo was a complete lucky accident. I spotted this monarch walking home one day and literally only had one shot before it fluttered away. I was only able to capture one image but boy did it turn out well.

Monona Bay photoshoot

Taken today at the Monona Bay railroad bridge, Madison, Wisconsin.

This location is just a block from where we live in Madison. I noticed it the other day driving along North Shore... I thought it was neat how the railroad tracks are so straight and the telephone poles are so crooked. The black and white just made this picture in my opinion.

There are tons of points of inspiration in our neighborhood. I'm just finding that I need to keep my eyes open. I don't need to travel to exotic locations to make great photographs. Madison is enough. :) That's something I've always said about writing as well: Writers don't have amazing, life-changing, extraordinary experiences. They take the ordinary and make it extraordinary. I'm finding that my favorite kinds of photographs do the same thing.

More pictures from this outing after the jump.

Seussian

Taken at the Allen Centennial Gardens, University of Wisconsin-Madison campus, May 2010. I don't know what kind of flower it is, but it reminds me of Dr. Seuss.

I went to a local camera store today. Those places always make me so nervous because even though I've been taking Indy pics for over two years now and I enjoy what I'm doing, I have no clue really what I'm doing, technically speaking, and I feel like everyone else is so much smarter than me at it. I can never get over that inferiority complex with anything I do - writing, taking pictures, selling cat food. But I digress.

Anyway, I was shopping around for a fitted case to put around my camera so I could toss it into my purse and not worry about my purse destroying it (happens more often than you'd think). The case I have is nice but cumbersome - too many straps and too bulky, too many pockets for things to fall out of. A super nice and knowledgeable guy helped me pick one out but when I handed my camera to him (he's only the fourth person I've let hold it), he pointed out that it was covered in makeup and dirt (and probably tears - my right eye always waters when I take pictures). Filthy. I've only had it since the end of May, but it's something I use for work a lot, so it goes everywhere with me. I was pretty embarrassed, but he was nice enough to clean it for me and recommend some cleaning things I should be doing.

I probably gave the poor guy a heart attack, talking about how I just want to throw my expensive camera into my purse, how I got foundation all over the LED screen. I promise I'll take better care of my baby in the future. :)

Grilled Cheese is Serious Business

Taken at Cows on the Concourse 2010.

I think one of the best days of the year as a Madisonian is the Cows on the Concourse celebration on the Capitol Square. Not only does Madison go all old school with an actual petting zoo next to the state capitol, grilled cheese sandwiches are made by the hundreds with real Wisconsin cheese and butter and sold at the bargain price of a buck fifty a pop. There are few things better than rolling out of bed early on a Saturday morning, heading up to the square, munching on greasy grilled cheese sandwiches for breakfast, then taking an afternoon nap.

I love Wisconsin.

MadCats

Taken behind MadCat this afternoon on my lunchbreak.

I spent my lunchbreak this afternoon lying on the bit of grass behind MadCat, munching on tortilla chips while Lucy munched on the grass. Morty headed out too and rolled his little heart out on his favorite manhole a safe distance from us.

The store cats have the run of the place, doors open, able to come and go as they please. But they really only want to go outside if someone is out there with them. Lucy stuck close by me during the entire half hour, and it was hard to snap her gorgeous photo while she kept nudging me for pets and attention.

And it was a nice September day, warm and humid but not uncomfortable, a nice breeze. I like sitting on the landing behind MadCat - it's like a little peaceful greenspace in the middle of parking lots and one of the busier areas of Madison. I'm not a nature person in the least - nature annoys me - but I like to find and appreciate secret urban oases.

Area 51

A scooter with a sidecar at Area 51 Vintage Interiors, off Johnson Street in Madison.

John and I happened here after we moved, looking for some unique pieces of furniture. The owner was still trying to move and organize everything from their old location by the Beltline on Badger Road, so there wasn't much out for us to look at. It was dark, the kind of place you expect to have an inch of dust on everything, but it didn't. The proprietor planned to have more out in the coming months - the last place was stacked floor to ceiling in every room with retro furniture. This gem was parked in the back. Love those windows.

Hi. I'm Meagan. I take pictures.

Title: Obscured by Sign.

Observatory Drive in Madtown.

One of my favorite drives and walks in Madison, Observatory Drive runs along Lake Mendota on the University of Wisconsin Campus. This windy, narrow road has been under construction for the last year-ish, so to get here from the campus side, we hiked up a steep, wooded hill and trespassed through some roadwork on a Sunday afternoon.

Stay tuned for more of my photos as I practice, build my portfolio, and jump into that whole Flickr thing. :)