Jim Harris Studios Slide Show

This has been something in the works for a while now. I've been wanting to put a slide show of my most current work together that also includes some general information about the studio. Most of my inquiries are by email and for the past year I've answered and followed up in a variety of ways. Now I think I can send this slide show link and feel that the bases are covered.

This has all come together at a pretty good time. Just yesterday I found out I was accepted into the WPJA (Wedding Photojournalist's Association). I don't belong to any other trade organizations, but I felt that this was one I wanted to be in. This was my third time applying so I was happy to finally get in.

This organization is also particular about music licensing. So instead of using commercial music for my slide show I asked my friend Matt in LA to write a short piece for me. I gave him a sense of the mood I was looking for and he went at it and came up with this piece of music. I like it more every time I listen to it...and I've listened to it about a hundred times now as I've put the slide show together. If you haven't been to Matt's website, check out all the shows he's written music for. To sit in his studio and watch this dude make music, like I did a couple weeks ago, is a sight to see. He's like a conductor of an orchestra except there is no orchestra, just keyboards, computer screens, mixing boards and a music software samples. I guarantee that if you watch TV even a little bit, you've already heard his music.

At any rate, the slide show is embedded on the blog, but I'd recommend clicking the link here to watch the HD version. The slideshow will also be linked to the JIMHARRISSTUDIOS.COM site.

Christmas in Philadelphia

Phillies 2008 from Jim Harris Images on Vimeo.

I think I’m better now. I think I may be healed. It was one week ago this morning that we were in LA and our friend Ian was driving us to the airport. It was six in the morning and these guys weren’t up ten minutes and I was preaching of our return to the promised land. Three thousand miles and 28 years later we might just win the World Series. It was tough not watching the first four games in Philly, but my friends out there are all baseball people and almost all of them had their teams in the playoffs, but supported us all week, despite my dubious behavior at times.

When I took a self-imposed-time-out in another room, they sent in 16 month old Zoe with the Phillies foam finger to smoke me out. It was great time and now we were going back to Philly with a 3-1 lead in the World Series. We landed, grabbed our luggage and returned home only to run out the door to Henry James to watch it wrap up. Mother Nature had other things in mind. At least to some it was Mother Nature. I knew it was actually the Baseball Gods making sure that we really wanted/deserved it. All those people, including myself, that were already thinking of a Parade would be tested when the game was called in the 6th due to a rain monsoon. I heard it described as going to a New Years Party and midnight never came. We went home, we waited to see what would happen and in the meantime, I went up to my folks to get our dog Frank. In only a hundred mile distance I ran into a snowstorm in the Poconos and got stuck in stand-still traffic for a couple hours on Interstate 80. Just enough time to listen to sports radio and ponder how this could be the end-be-all of Philadelphia collapses. Only in Philadelphia could you have a 3-1 lead in the World Series and still feel like the Grinch with all the kids toys in a sleigh teetering on the cliff over Whoville.

The skies cleared and the game continued two days later. Only 3 innings. No problem. Kristen and I suited up and returned to Henry James for the strangest Game 5 in World Series history. It started with a Pinch Hitter and the first inning ended with the seventh inning stretch.
The place was packed and we were squeezed in hanging on every pitch. We took the lead and then they tied it up again. Then Pat Burrell who hadn’t had a hit all series, smacked the longest double I’d ever seen in that park. That would eventually be the winning run. A strange thing happened though between that scored run and the euphoria that would follow the final strike out. I knew we were going to win. It was an unfamiliar and positive epiphany. To most it would seem like a no-brainer… those watching outside southeastern Pennsylvania. Watching Brad Lidge trot in I knew we were going to win this thing. I put my camera away and just watched it happen. It took forever and two days but we won the World Series.

I didn’t see anything on the TV after that last out. Nobody here did. We jumped around and hugged total strangers and then took it to the streets. We partied and danced in the traffic. When I looked at my phone an hour or so later, I had a half dozen voicemails and 15 text messages. Countless emails would follow the next day.

Now I don’t know if I deserved everyone’s best wishes. I know I haven’t always been the easiest to watch a game with. I could squeeze even the littlest joy out of a game if given the opportunity. As I told my buddy Ian, it isn’t easy. He's a Cubs fan, he understands. I don’t know why it’s so important. I’d like to blame genetics or someone else, like my dad who every summer drove us 200 miles to watch Phillies games when were kids. I’d like to blame the curse or even Joe Buck, but I think it was just 28 years of never winning.

The point is… I think I’m healed. Whatever happened this week was the right prescription to fully balance the likes of Jim Harris. Sure, I’ll probably need to tweak the cocktail in the years to come, but I think we’re all better now. With this World Series I promise to never boo again. I promise not to scare your children or pets. I promise to not make you want to root against me.

Friday morning I got up and joined the Phillies and two million people on Broad Street. I was there the weekend they closed the Vet, I was there the weekend they opened our new ballpark, but I’ve never seen a time when this city was so in love with itself. I think they call it pride. Who knew?