About — M.H. Rubin
“This might not seem like nothing to you now, but it will.”
This is me: I have been a photographer for more than 40 years, a writer for fewer, a long time resident of the Bay Area, but recently moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico.
When I was a kid, I was a young protégé of Jerry Uelsmann; his surreal images were everywhere around me. I’ve never been a professional photographer; I’d say I’m a professional amateur — and spend my time evangelizing photographic exploration for regular people. Some of my work these days involves managing a large photographic collection of classical works of midcentury modernism.
Concurrent with photography, I’ve had an entrepreneurial career that has spanned industries such as publishing, consumer retail, entertainment media, and technology. Highlights include Lucasfilm, Netflix, and Adobe, as well as number of startups. In the old days I had editing and post production roles on television and feature projects, including the CBS miniseries Lonesome Dove, Paul McCartney’s concert film Get Back (aka Tripping the Live Fantastic) and the Bertolucci feature The Sheltering Sky. I’m proud that my ex-wife and I pioneered the you-paint-it “contemporary ceramics” industry (Color Me Mine, Petroglyph) and even prouder of the successful way we handled our divorce and parenting.
I have a degree in neuroscience from Brown University, which has been nominally useful; my secret passion is to be a performance storyteller (sorta like Spaulding Grey, but without the suicide part); I’m a lifelong educator, the author of essays and a dozen books, primarily on filmmaking, including a history of Lucas and Pixar: Droidmaker (2005) and photographic lessons in The Photograph as Haiku (2023).
It’s been a long meandering career of highs and lows and my Medium stories chronicle the weirdness.
BIOGRAPHICAL TALES — TABLE OF CONTENTS
In the final 100 days of 2020 I wrote these 100 Stories
One a day. I didn’t write these in this order, but I wondered if they might be fun — Memento-style — to re-arrange them into some sort of chronology. They’re really in no order.
