This a photography project that I have made focusing in a american flags and how they are used in this country. You can take a look here. You can see some more in my flickr on the right side of thsi post.

It takes a bright mind to photograph another great mind. It takes a lot of talent to be able to create a visual representation of one of the most powerful audio (and literary) personalities ever. Maybe the most influential single artist in Rock’s history. It takes somebody like Barry Feinstein to photograph somebody like Bob Dylan. They were very active in 1966 and both of them are very active still. Mr. Dylan is everywhere, from the Pulitzer Prize, to the top of the list with his latest album Modern Times. Mr. Feinstein’s work with Bob Dylan as central character, fortunately, is also very much alive, for two main reasons that go together. On one hand there is the amazing exhibition that the people from Snap Galleries in Birmingham, England, have prepared with never-exhibited-before images that go from the cover photograph for The Times They Are A Changin’ (1963 ), to 1974 tour, passing by the historic 1966 UK tour. On the other hand, there is the soon-to-be-published book Real Moments. Bob Dylan by Barry Feinstein, that “contains a comprehensive selection of well known and unpublished photographs of Bob Dylan by Barry Feinstein, along with text by Barry and an introduction from Bob Neuwirth.”

As a graduatre student for William McKeen’s class at the University of Florida, I have just wrote
a paper on the relation between both artists. It can be read here.

I made a lot of photos for a very interesting fashion prject. Here you can see the layout made by Naomi M. Piercey. It is the first of the list: “- “Champagne For One” fashion spread – mock content, original photos by Inigo De Amescua, March 2008.”

by Inigo Amescua

He says he’s never there. Don’t know who is he. Don’t know what is he at. He says he is a poet, he lives as a poet, he will die a poet but he sings, and groans, and growls, and whispers clouds of Camel cigarettes and songs about being sick of love, deep down, all around; outcasts, nomads, wanderers, it has no grind, I’m just waiting for this night to end. He says that maybe he is not there, here, anywhere, but he is in the radio playing songs about baseball, hot summers, rich men and leftovers. Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum. She says she loves me and she is thinking of me but she ought to know that she could be wrong. He is on youtube, on myspace, on my tube. He is talking about Cadillacs, protests songs, lilac, watermelon. He is giving away black hats to sexy ladies in a palace in Venice, winning awards from the Prince of Spain, Sad Eye Lady of the Lowlands is just pain. He plays songs by Link Wray, Mayfield, Wonder, Domino, Johnnie Ray. I knew from the first moment she meant to do me harm but he is coming back, he lacks, high muck-a-muck. He is dress in black in the border of the cliff. He knows where to fly and when to run. He is ain’t talking but he is everywhere I write, he knows the rhymes, he is not polite. I see him with Cat Power, John Lennon, Johnny Cash, Bobby Vee, Françoise Hardy. He is at the store of the Moma showing me his paintings in a big orange book, he is in Washington Square drinking sake in dark caves, God, he is everywhere. He reads the Song for the Open Road, the Howl, the Deserts of Love. He is taking my pills, my bike, my grass, my lines, he is even stealing up my mind. I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to play music.