After nearly a month-long hiatus, I am thrilled to publish Ken Jarecke's guest blog post today. You may remember Ken's very popular (it received 133 retweets) first guest post, “A Photographer's Life Is a Juggling Act.” He is a world-renowned photojournalist and a founding member of Contact Press Images. Like before, I urge you read his blog, Mostly True.

As I search my memory, I find there was never a time when I was not a Cornhusker fan.

The awareness of the University of Nebraska’s football team precedes any understanding of the actual game of football itself. Around the age of five or six, when one starts to sort out how geography works. The idea that grandma lives in a different city, but the same state, or that although it looks similar when you cross over the Missouri River you’re really in Iowa, and that there’s a place called Oklahoma which is populated by people who are not to be trusted.

That's how it happened, not that there was much of a choice. Back then, before the internet, or cable TV the only other team you’d hear about was whoever the Cornhuskers were playing that week.

Normally, there’d be two games broadcast during the regular season. One early in the year and the Oklahoma game on the day after Thanksgiving (to decide who won the Big 8 Conference and got to play in the Orange Bowl). When the game wasn’t on TV, you and everyone else in the state would listen to Lyell Bremser’s unique color commentary/play by play broadcast on KFAB. If you walked down the street, into a store, or worked in your yard, you’d hear the game whether you had a radio or not. When the game was on TV, you’d turn down the TV set and try to reconcile Lyell’s interpretation of the game with what your own eyes were telling you.

Often times Lyell’s version would win.

Sunday mornings, before church, before getting dressed, but at some point after Davey and Goliath, a mad dash, sans shoes or socks, would be made to retrieve the Omaha World-Herald from the mailbox. The sports section, its black & white images with player’s names (helpfully?) pasted right on the photos and the infernal white arrow chasing Johnny Rodgers down the field (maybe that’s why he was running so fast) would be studied. Special scrutiny would be reserved for the one or two plays, recorded with the high-capacity Nikon (loaded with fifty feet worth of Tri-X) from the top of the stadium, that would be sequenced across two pages in the middle of the sports section.

Heaven help that photographer if he missed a crucial fumble, or a long touchdown run. Perhaps that’s why the chief photographer would assign himself this duty?

Personal memories of experiences shared by generations of Nebraska fans. Sure, like I said, we didn’t really have a choice. There were no other programs, college or pro which could compete for our attention. Choice or not, a community was built. Someone coined the term “Husker Nation” which works well since we’ve now migrated across the country.

About a year ago, as the historic Big 12 conference was starting to break up (historic for no other reason than being born out of the Big 8), I decided to document the Husker’s final season before they moved on to the Big Ten conference.

The resulting 256 page, 12” x 9 1/2” coffee table book, Husker Game Day 2010 – Farewell Big 12 will be going to press in the second week of October. The book is designed and printed in Omaha. My publishing company, eyeQ Press will continue to take pre-orders until Oct. 11 at the discounted price of $49.95. We’re only printing enough copies to cover retail and direct orders and books will be shipped right after Thanksgiving.

You can see work by me from every Husker game this season at www.eyeQpress.com. There’s a link to the shopping cart on the lower, right-hand side of the page. Or you can just click here to go directly to the shopping cart.

The companion book, which I start shooting this weekend in Madison, Wisconsin will document the Husker’s first season in the Big Ten.

When I started this project, I didn’t think I’d be creating my own publishing company, getting a license with the CLC, or driving over 20,000 miles to the games. My goal was to create the perfect book for myself, or perhaps the fifteen year old me who loved photography and football, and it turned out exactly how I imagined.

I couldn’t have done this without the support of my family. Projects like this keep a person away from home for too long. My beautiful wife Souad keeps our family and home together. I’d be nowhere without her.

Webster Design and Barnhart Press of Omaha have also been very supportive. It’s amazing that one can still produce such a high quality book completely in Nebraska.

Canon Professional Services has been outstanding. If you’re not a member, I would encourage you to become one today.

Be sure to check out the video below where Ken Jarecke goes into even more detail about this incredible, self-assigned project.

Tell us about your Cornhusker Football moment. A play-by-play works or wax nostalgic about what it was like to go to a Nebraska game. Either way, when you comment below, you may win a copy of Ken Jarecke's book, “Farewell Big 12”. Winner chosen on October 7. So, what are you waiting for?

This a guest post by Ken Jarecke, a world-renowned photojournalist and founding member of Contact Press Images, an illustrious photo agency based in New York. Please also visit and read his blog, Mostly True.

The past few years it’s been hard for me to pick up a camera. We all know that the industry, at least the editorial side of it, has been at an all time low. Sure, I’ve worked to put a good face on it, like in this piece on the New York Times Lens blog, but more often than not, my desire to make wonderful images has been absent. My heart has just not been there.

It’s not the creative side. I’ve rarely cared about the choices editors make about my work. That’s never been my motivation. Besides, I figured if I made great images, they’d get published. Somewhere. Sometime.

For example, here’s a take from the Beijing Olympics. After nine Olympics, I felt this was the best job I’d ever done. Normally, the Olympics will generate tons of tear-sheets, but outside of China, where my agency had a deal with the local English language newspaper, I managed to get only a single image published (in a French newspaper).

Frustrating to be sure, but still, not something that would stop me from making pictures.

No, I’m sad and ashamed to report that my lack of desire stemmed from nothing more than a lack of money. More specifically, the constant worry, and the ongoing struggle to pay the bills had taken its toll.

It’s sad, because I didn’t become a photojournalist to get rich (I was never that crazy or misguided). I’m ashamed because much of my money problems were the direct result of poor or stubborn decisions that are completely my fault.

In the past, I hesitated to book weddings. I made the excuse that I couldn’t book something that far in advance. What if an editorial job came up? In reality, I felt this type of work was beneath me. I felt the same about the portrait market (Yes, I know where this is being read). It’s easy to say now, but what’s more important than a wedding, or capturing a child’s life? Oh well, live and learn.

I didn’t let the magazines determine if a picture was good or not, but I sure put them in charge of what was important enough for me to photograph!

Pride and arrogance, a nasty couple of vices. As you can imagine, the only people to suffer from the choices I made was my family. Over the past few years, we’ve cut expenses, and eliminated most of the extras that come with family life, in my vain attempt to reinvent the editorial market and make things right (vanity, there’s another one).

Although I never stopped loving being a dad or a husband, the only thing I accomplished was to give my family a grouchy dad who hated making pictures.

As a photojournalist, I always try to have a backup plan. I would look at every situation with the perspective of a worse possible case scenario. Like, what would happen if I got a two flat tires in a post-Katrina New Orleans?

Practical to be sure, but it also gave me a sense of being in control. Maybe we all do this. It would explain tings like always having a pocket bulging with extra batteries.

Well, about three weeks ago, I ran into a situation that I couldn’t control. One of our children came home from camp very sick. It took twelve days for the doctors to figure out what was wrong. Plenty of uncertainty. Lots of prayers. Scary times. I don’t want to put too fine of a point on it. She spent four nights in the hospital and has been home for about a week now. She’s getting better everyday and is on her way to a full recovery.

Ironically, being in this powerless situation has seemed to heal me also. I have no cares about my reputation, or my standing in the photography world. I should be totally freaked about the medical bills (on top of everything else), but instead they just don’t seem important. I just want to be a better dad and husband (I thought I always was, but I didn’t give any thought to the huge burden I had placed on my family).

Strangest of all, I also want to make some really good pictures. Go figure.

I’m working on getting some portrait jobs… I booked one yesterday! I did my first wedding back in June. I gotta say, I really enjoyed it. The pictures were good too! I hope I have the chance to do some more.

The medical bills? Well, I hope to pay for some of them with a special print sale. I’m going to offer eight or ten prints at a special price for seven days only. They’re signed, archival pigment prints made by me.

You can see a preview here. I don’t know what the final selection will be, but I’m open to suggestions. Please check the above site on Monday to find out. The 17” x 22”s will be $300 and the 8.5” x 11”s will be $97 (plus shipping).

The two black & whites shown here are from an essay I did for Time magazine in 1990 called, “The Rotting of the Big Apple”. They’ve been very popular with collectors over the years.

The image from the Tiananmen Square student protests of 1989, shows a lone hunger striker sitting in front of Chinese soldiers. It has also been popular with collectors. At some point it was named “The Rose”. The Beijing Opera performer was made in May of 2007. It’s one that I like. I think it works well.

If you have ever considered creating a photography collection for yourself, Ken's offering here would be a terrific start. In fact, I have already told Ken that I will be buying one of his prints! Supporting each other through the valleys and peaks of life is what will make us stronger. Give it some thought, but don't wait too long because these prints are very likely to be gone soon.

UPDATE: Ken sent me this slideshow that you see below. It has all the images he has on sale through this Friday (September 10, 2010). I hope this inspires you to invest in one of his images.