Some of my earliest memories consist of my family and I, sitting on a hill top in the middle of a thunderstorm as my father fired away on his Minolta camera, trying to get the perfect shot of lightning. In time, he got the image he felt he was looking for, and these excursions ceased.
Many years later, when I was about fifteen, I didn't have too terribly much interest in photography. One day, in very early spring (when it was generally too cold to have garage sales), I was riding with my mom, and we saw a sign for a sale. When we stopped, I listlessly browsed the second hand items, and came upon a box marked fifteen dollars. Inside, I found an old Minolta srT100, I figured why not, and bought it. It then spent a year sitting on my shelf.
The following year, I was a sophomore in high school, and so had the option of being on the Senior High school paper. For one issue, a fellow student decided to do a piece on body modification. Thinking back to the long neglected camera sitting on my shelf, I volunteered to do the photos for the piece. One image in particular would later win first place for feature photography in the Montana Interscholastic Editorial Association Contest. I thought to myself "cool" and once again retired the camera to my shelf.
During my junior year, I realized that I was not going to get along with my math teacher. At the time, the requirements for graduation were three years of math, or through algebra two. I had taken algebra one in middle school, geometry my freshman year, and algebra two my sophomore year. So I went to my counselor and asked if I could switch teachers, to which she replied that the other teacher's classes were all full, and I would have to just stick it out. I was not particularly pleased about this, and asked to drop math, since I already met the requirements in that field for graduation. After a protracted argument in which she alleged that, without three years of math, no college would take me (to which I replied that I had no intention of going to an out of state college, and that in state would still take me). Eventually, frustrated, she asked what class I would want to take in its place. I thought about it for a moment, and said "another art class" (I was already taking three art courses at this time). She looked through her class schedule and told me that the only art class at that time was photography, and there was one opening left. I thought about it for a moment, and said sure.
Tom Morris was the teacher of the class, and under his tutelage, I quickly fell in love with the darkroom.
Senior High only offered one semester of photography, so the following year, I pursued an independent study the first semester. During this time, Northwest College came and recruited from Morris's class, and it was then that I decided to pursue photography as a career.
The following semester, I found out that the Career Center (an option offered to all school district two students during their junior and senior year, in which all classes can be transfered as college credit) offered photography. On the first day of class, the teacher, Dick Petersson, went around the class asking what our interest in photography was. When he got to me, I said "I took photography with Morris at Senior, followed by an independent study in photography. After graduating, I intend to enroll at Northwest College in Powell." to which Mr. Petersson replied: "Huh, well, there isn't much that I can teach you, here is the book you'll be using in college. I would like it if you did the assignments so I can pass you."
During this time, I further refined my photographic skills, and the following year, I moved to Powell to attend Northwest College.
During my final year of college, I was required to take Studio Illustration. Part of this course had students set up mock companies, so as to learn about invoicing and the basic running of a photo studio.
The previous year, there were a few companies
whose names were heavily tied to animals. One day, while trying to figure out a name for my theoretical photo business, I happened to be listening to GWAR's Je M'Apelle J. Cousteau
, and just as I was thinking "what should my company's name be?
from my speakers, the lead singer, in a fake French accent said: I saw him, yeh. Dove into the icy waters of the North Atlantic. Searching, searching! He found death, torn to pieces by rabid penguins!
I enjoyed the absurdity of the notion of a rabid penguin (coupled with my long standing fascination with the bird), and felt the name was a nice parody of some of the companies that came before.
Upon Leaving College, I toyed around with some other name ideas. However, most of my friends and loved ones were used to Rabid Penguin, and the name stuck.
I pursued the three year course at Northwest (the photo program is an associates of applied science, requiring 66 credits taken over the course of two years) leaving the school with substantially more credits than necessary. In a cruel twist of irony, I never completed a math course while attending college, and so never received my degree.
I am currently enrolled at Montana State University, Billings, where I am majoring in psychology with a minor in art and a minor in music. I should have my associates from Powell by summer, 2010
In addition to being a photographer, I am a musician, music fiend, writer, and bibliophile.