A Little Piece of My Head

Photography by Ray Hale  

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When I was 10, my father gave me a Kodak Brownie and declared me the family photographer.  He paid for film, development and printing, and I had a blast posing my relatives in various situations.  Those included family ping pong tournaments, yo-yo competitions, softball games, cat's cradle instructions, swing dancing, and Uncle Bill's ever- famous pranks.  Thanks, Pop!

 

Growing up in a large midwest industrial city in the 50s and 60s, I was super attracted to landscapes of abandoned factories and the skeletal remains of the housing developments meant for the workers. As my interest and courage grew I began to photograph the people that kept the city alive. Then in my 40+ years as a Floridian I was lucky to spend a good deal of time and film photographing the launching and landing of space vehicles from Press and VIP sites at Cape Canaveral, culminating with a slide show consisting of three large auditorium screens, six slide projectors and sound track, all without computer assistance.

 

These days, I love to photograph environmental portraits.  Especially appealing are land- and cityscapes of the small towns away from the interstates that have managed to maintain a personality void of fast food and one-stop shopping.  They almost always include historically important and beautiful scenes worthy of sharing in photos and stories.  Every few years I revisit some of my favorite locations.  They are disappearing, which presents new - albeit sad - opportunities for photo story telling.

 

Find a reasonably dependable means of travel and pleasant companions who have their own reasons for going.  My partner of 30+ years makes these adventures amazing.  We began our journeys in an old VW bus with a fold-down bed.  Carrying spare parts and tools, our roadside education included all manner of mechanical opportunities. We also rode our motorcycles many tens of thousands of miles, tent camping in glorious to dangerous weather, including 35F in New Hampshire, a tornado in West Virginia, and floods in North Carolina that took out bridges we needed. We survived bears and liquored-up bear hunters.  Motorcycle rides have included Mile Zero in Key West, to the top of Mt. Evans at 14,265 feet elevation in Colorado, and so many more.