Homeless

As of tomorrow I am sorrrtaaa kindaaaa homeless.
I mean, I always have my grandmother's and that IS where I hauled all my shit today.
Three car loads and a cargo van full.
Mostly all by myself.
And while this partly extremely frustrating.. It's also very empowering.
I packed, carried, lifted, struggled, sweat (a LOT)
Over and over and over and over
up stairs and down stairs and up and down and up and down..
I had help with the dressers and desk.
And by the end of it, I am exhausted.
And free.
I am fucking free.
Free free free FUCKING FREE!!

I have no home, no money, my car is falling apart, my computer is not far behind, my baby kitty Pan disappeared ( ;( ), I chopped my hair, I got rid of half my shit(uhm, again..), I have no reliable friends, zero love interest, no sex drive, no plan, no fucking obligation or expectation!

So fuck you, too!


And I love you. :)

(but not you... and sorta you... definitely not you... maybe you... but you, you, you and you? yes.)


What?


stfu.

Random Facts 1-5

1. I believe in love at first sight, yet I'm jaded as fuck
2. I shower with the lights off
3. I have a traveling bug that is insatiable
4. I drive without music all the time, and I think my lack of music is what makes me more fucked up and sad
5. I make great breakfasts, which is my favorite meal of the day

Sand Filled Wings

"Ask and you shall receive."

Well, I've been doing a lot of asking for strength and help. To better myself, to put myself on the right track, to know the way, to find happiness.

Or at least peace of mind.

I have the ever present ticking itch to travel, to move, to run away, to find what I'm looking for (whatever that might be). Purpose, I want purpose. Life is too short to be sitting around on my hands waiting for something to happen. There has to be a reason I was born with this traveling bug, a reason why I love taking pictures and I love beauty, new places, interesting and fucked up people and environments.

Please, life, give me purpose...
Don't let me stay useless, dead, and half buried by my surroundings.


Step one: Drink less, save more.

Princess Weekend

My Mother always declared, "It's my Birthday week... You have to be super nice to me two days before and two days after!" I quite like this theory, and I stick by it. Like Mother like Daughter. (Scary!) So, it is two days before my birthday. Tonight, I work at Half Penny, a "hole in the wall" Irish style bar in down town Syracuse. Which I like working at a lot... Lots of interesting people. Mostly punks, goths, bikers and other degenerates. Perfect.

Unfortunately, I fear this birthday. I fear no one showing up- some solid decloration that I've gone so nuts that no one wants to celebrate with me. Scaring people away and burning bridges comes fairly naturally to me.. and while I love to declare I Don't Care, I really do, and it's quite annoying, actually.

But Holly and Rachael and Pete will be there. They are my best friends, and I cannot have a bad time with any of them, let alone all together!

Quality over Quantity, Meagan. Plow ahead!

Good BYYYE twenty-two. I like odd numbers better, anyway.

Men.

I've been prying myself from days in my bed and alternately denying myself sleep or food just to feel more alive (or, in fact, punishment), writing in my journal all night as if one day someone may read it and find it interesting (where does getting wasted fit in?). Or, better yet, that I may look back and feel my life amounted to something, that my suffering wasn't in vain(ity?). Goodness in truth. Art fag. And, currently, all I feel is utter loneliness, that I try hard to cover up (maybe.), hoping that my smile might attract some sane faces. Or perhaps everyone can smell the Crazy Bitch on me; can sense with some tendril of Knowledge that I am, indeed, one of the most self destructive people you will ever meet. Consumed. If I love you, I hate you, and nothing's ever good enough, particularly me- me, so full of faults and anger and conviction. Stumbling conviction. Solid anger. A Mess. The never ending flow of faults, faults, faults. So much chaos and confusion that all I want to do is rage and destroy - before, in fact... You do; Whoever. I will hurt you first, I will leave you first, I will show you with false pride the chink in my armor, the battle wounds, my Achilles' heel and God knows I'll show you my heart on my sleeve (even if you're so dizzy from my spinning circles); forever gushing gore. Spitting in the face of Man. Oh, Man, who I adore and search after for too much approval. Never enough. Here! Eat my sin and know insanity. Prove to me (again!) that you are not strong enough to yield me while I craze about with poison and daggers and hate. Fuck you, you 'men'. Your drool and your talk and your indecisive. Fuck you for not buying me dinner, not holding my hand or showing me strength. Fuck you for being little boys, for having no manners or worse - no sensitivity for the annoyingly delicate female emotional stability. Fuck you for telling me obsessed is some sort of a weakness, as if there's not (some?) greatness in one who will never back down, give up or turn their back. Fuck you and your useless penis, gangly stumbling hands and wandering eye.

Beautiful (stupid!) Man..

Fuck you for torturing me in my own masochism. For all I can do is adore you for causing me so much pain.

(Blog n. : Satisfaction in exploitation.)

A Gypsy Life

the Wren
June 10 - July 7
The wren Celtic animal sign is associated with freshness, and opening to new insights, and sunnier dispositions. They are natural care givers and will sign sweet melodies to cheer their friends and family. They remain calm in the midst of stormy weather. You want to have these people with you if you find yourself in a crisis; they are resourceful and stay cool under pressure. Wrens are self-motivated (they know how to get what they want) and work best in solo situations. They are also have a high sense of responsibility and moral integrity. They seek balance in their lives by being leaders at work on in the community, but secretly they would rather be traveling abroad living a life of a gypsy (this however, is often against their better judgment).
(whats-your-sign.com)

I will not make that mistake. I live a fucking gypsy life.

I See Evil

I see evil in me.

All my life I've been the "Evil Twin" and it has a just place as a title for me. There is anger in me that is on constant simmer, waiting for a spark of more heat to fuel a raging destructive path. I daydream about torturing girls that tick against said bomb and have flash fantasies of doing generally destructive and hurtful things. I snap at the smallest annoyance - although I only do this to people who are closest to me (mostly boy-friends). Biting my tongue is something I've tried to learn, but it's so hard! My brain to mouth function lacks grace and has been the downfall of all my relationships with everyone. I see red. I shake with fury.

I'm glad I'm a woman.

However, somehow, I'm told I'm sweet. I'm kind. I'm a good person.

Sometimes I wonder if my kindness is only my inner Beast plotting an easier way of living. I can't decide if I care too much or too little. I am conscious of everything I do. How I look and act, my meanness and my sweetness. Conscious chaos. Conscious disaster. Reckless calculating.

I see Evil in me.

Melody

Almost every frame I took of this set is great. We finally were on the same page, I saw it on her face when I got excited how it encouraged her to keep going. I haven't let her open up to me photographically.. I guess because I expect it not to be an issue. It made me feel really really good when she told me that she loves the pictures, that she feels like these are pictures that show her personality, who she is.

Great success!

Yay.

I love Women, I love NYC

Two things that rarely fail to push me to be inspired: Beautiful women and NYC. And together? Shit, fahgetaboutit. I love the small curves of women; in their neck, fingers, mouth. I find myself blatantly and shamelessly staring at pretty girls, admiring and holding their image in my mind, figuring out an angle, slowly piecing together a photo that slips together bit by bit. It's fascinating and I love it.

There's this girl I met (from Model Mayhem), who I hung out with and talked to for many many hours; over coffee, lunch, drinks. Which meant I was free to look at her as much as I wanted, excused in the expectation of intimate watching as we exchanged stories after stories (as girls will do). It really was so terribly nice, watching her expressions, her moments of intense talking and then peaceful calmness. She'd get this look in her eyes while holding mine, her mouth set and she'd let whatever small tragedy she was sharing with me pass - as if to say, "shit happens". And, of course, burst out in passionate oppinionated and very expressive banter about god knows what.

And suddenly I understand the idea of Muse.

But that thought, of shamelessly observing, that to me is wonderful. How often is a person allowed to actively admire a gorgeous person face to face? Women, indeed, are meant to be admired for their beauty. Somehow because I have a passion for my cameras, and I am female as well, this makes it okay, right? Or maybe it's my shameless adoration for charming girls. Which, by the way, I know a few. Lucky meee!

So. My miserable winter depression is breaking, New York let me fall in love with life again, and the six beautiful girls I got to share company with made me hopefull that I am not an untallented photographer. I got my closure with an ex, I got to kiss a pretty girl, I was free and had fun, I got naked in a park, I came home and was taken on a date and got to kiss him, too.

I'm BACK!


by Marko Cecic-Karuzic

Change in the Air

I haven't been shooting.

I have, however, made my sixth move in the last four years, finally out of that hell hole armpit of New York state: Utica. My uhaul brought me only an hour away, to Syracuse, but it's new, and it's not Utica. I can't stress that enough. Perhaps what finally got me out was being evicted.. or perhaps it was the promise I made to a friend to get out of that shit hole by March in exchange for this beautiful camera. A strange promise, and surely wholy for my benifit; kindness from a stranger. Well, near stranger. Months ago, when this 'promise' was made, it was put in my head that March was some sort of catilis. The idea snuck in my head that if I didn't get out, I didn't deserve this camera, which I grew to love - thus not deserving to be any sort of recognizable photographer or maybe even an ambitious person, period.

Sometimes I think all you need to do is hold a want in your mind strong enough, and the world will yeild if your desire is strong enough. I didn't know how I was going to get out. Thank-you Melody for visiting for a week and partying with me enough to piss off my landlord. Thankyou Vinnie, my landlord, for not putting up with my careless bullshit, even if it really pissed me off.

Thankyou Sanders McNew, for the selfless push to someone you barely know. I am in your dept.

On a different thought.. My last move a little over a year ago, I left half of my belongings behind in the frenzy. This time, I did also. I have no furnerature. I have a bedroom full of simple pleasures: bed, tv, movies, books, decorations and photos to keep me reminded of the things I love. I have a small storage space with my dresser, my sisters dresser, bags of clothes and six boxes of photo shit. I've put all of my negatives away - I'm done with all of that for now, I hate most all of it. Time to move forward.


New city, new people, new apartment, new neighborhood, restraunts, bars, stores, grocery store, routine, YAY!

My Work Is Shit

I hate it all.

Well my "recent" shit, because that's what it is- shit. Though in all fairness I haven't been shooting much, and the winter depresses me. But I was so determined to shoot in the snow, the beautiful upstate New York winter. But I can't do it, apparently. I'm stuck in my apartment, stuck in misery. Like every winter. Spring is my savior. February is the bane of my existence.

So I'm gathering all my polaroids and putting them in order. They go something of the order of Prosper, Nate/Nell, single/Prosper, single, Jaime/Sarah, single/Holly, James and company, single/holly/etc. Or something like that. It's hard putting them in order, particularly the two years flopping back and forth with Prosper, I mean, he wore the same fucking outfits all the time. Melody's hair length and style helps, though.

anyway, along with those polaroids, and my "photography" and other snapshots I'm putting together the ultimate Utica scrapbook. My life in the last four years. I'm doing it for me. Since I was about ten I have taken pictures and gotten photo albums with the intentions of keeping them going, up to date. And never did that, so I suppose now is a good time to do that.

So much has happened.

Some Random

- I had no idea that finding black nylon/polyester rope would be so difficult

- 25 feet isn't much

- Glory be to fearless and trusting friends/girls

- I started taking birth control and it's making me even MORE emotional, if that's possible. Less, though, with the anger, more with the wanting-to-cry-for-no-reason

- One can only be a daily-blog-visit sort of person if you update daily (like Chip).

- If I don't go develop these rolls soon, I'ma die.

- How many cameras do YOU see in the above photo?

Weddings

I got back a bunch of stuff from Holly's wedding. The above photo is actually from her birthday, a few days before her Big Day. She never smiles with her teeth showing in pictures which drives me nuts, so this photo has a special place in my heart, seeing it's the only part of her face that you look at - and her bloody knuckles.

Shooting weddings is terrrribly hard! I learned a lot by doing her's, I just wish it wasn't my first one - that and once again I am terribly reminded that I need a digital.

This was the first time I used my new Olympus, but unfortunately it doesn't work as well as the other one I had. Must be slightly different? I don't know. Maybe the other one was just magical. I think I'll stick with shooting high speed black and white with it, anyway.

I'm just dying with the itch to photograph someone properly. I've been adding girls on myspace around the Utica area, anyone who looks decent. I don't care, I just want to shoot SOMEONE, which apparently is very difficult up here. I'm glad I didn't take advantage of my time in the city when I was able to go down all the time, though I do miss all the beautiful girls willing to hop infront of my lense!

End of the Year

by ellen von unworth

So I'm gonna go right ahead and say in the next year I'm incorporating BDSM and kink into most, if not all, of my photography. I'll just skip the pretense that I'm not, like, one of the more perverted girls around. Sex, fetish, bondage for everyone!

Any first takers?

Besides all that, today is the last day of 2008 and I'm pretty sure I'm ready for a new year. This past one hasn't been that bad, I've learned a lot, grown a lot, traveled a lot. I've taken a lot of pictures and met a lot of really great people.

Last year at this time I was chasing after dick and living in a shit hole. I was getting my apartment broken into and dealing with a slumlord. I wasn't speaking to my family and I was friendless, loveless and mopey.

Today I think I'm poorer, and I have no idea where I'll be living in the next couple of weeks, but I have a couple great friends, a fun job, a loving family, a heart full of hope and a holster of cameras.

I am on the prowl.

by cellina von mannstein

Extreme

Meagan --

[adjective]: Extremely extreme!

'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Sometimes I feel like my wings are tightly bound, others; stretched and ready to fly, and once and a while all I feel is the weightless soaring...

James Spader

I love you.

"Men learn to love the person that they're attracted to, and women become more and morre attracted to the person they love"

-James Spader's character "Graham" in Sex Lies and Videotape

You are Mine

Everyone has their obsession
Consuming thoughts, consuming time
They hold high their prized posession
That defines the meaning of their lives

You are mine
You are mine
You are mine, oh mine
You are mine

There are objects of affection
That can mesmerize the soul
There is always one addiction
That just cannot be controlled

You are mine
You are mine
You are mine, oh mine
You are mine

Everyone has their obsession
Consuming thoughts, consuming time
They hold high their prized posession
They hold high their prized posession

song by Mute Math
photo by Anthony Garito

Finally, Olympus

Finally! I got my olympus stylus epic in the mail. $40 off of ebay and even came with the case - practically brand fucking new.

And while I adore the cameras that have been given to me by family and close friends, this.. this is the first camera that I bought... well, besides the dozens of polaroids and such, most of which don't work but that I've just collected since I was little to look pretty.

Finally, I shot something today. Finally I have my little camera.

But being evicted is not something to look forward to, especially to kick off the new year and, oh, by the way, Merry Fucking Christmas, Meagan. Christ.

Where do I go? What do I do? Move to Syracuse with Holly, Chicago with Melody, New York City filled with people to photograph, Pittsburgh? Back pack Europe? South America?

How does one pick up and move with a month notice?



Above is a shot of Melody, intended to be a head shot for her book.. I don't know if I have anything she'll put in it, but the more I look at this one, the happier I am with it. Thanks, Mell, for letting me have it, even if you weren't very happy with me.

There are two people I can always rely on, Mell is one.

King of the Trailer Park

Here's a shot from a while ago, when this foxy thing brought me on a hike. King of the Trailer Park.

I'm hunkering down tomorrow to develop and scan, and am fairly fucking stoked to see what I have. It's hard to shoot up here and hard to find people to shoot, but I try to make do with what I have. I've realized that I have a lot of rolls from months ago that I developed but never scanned - there was a moment there where all I was doing was shooting; mostly with the Olympus Frank gave me before I dropped it one too many times.

Which reminds me: I bought another one on ebay(!). It'll be here in a couple days and I couldn't be more excited. Hopefully it works and is actually the one I think it is. (insert thrilled squeal)

Oh. And I have to move in a month. Suggestions? I need to get the fuck out of upstate New York.