NYC

I just got back from the City. After being around so many people and huge buildings with small apartments, it's strange being back in Utica. I was worried about my cats, but they're fine (and cute as ever).

I really loved this trip. I peed on the sidewalk and took my clothes off in a bathroom to do a random shoot with Christopher Bush. Smoked a lot, drank a lot, shot a lot, talked a lot, slept a little. James Graham and I did magic, of course. He shot me last night, as well as the night before that, since I "missed" my train and came home today, instead (I don't think my boss was too thrilled). I drank six lattes, made ganga brownies, had amazing wings, amazing pizza, and the best omlet ever ever ever.

I am inspired.

Fuck.

Dude this self portrait thing is hard.
And Photoshop can eat me.
(I think it already has)


ps- I know the photo on the right is lopsided. I fixed it but I'm not reposting it. Yes, that's how lazy I feel after working on this fucking thing for four hours. ;)

I feel

So full. Full of emotion or thought or whatever.

So full that I feel the only way to get it out is by running till I drop, fucking till I pass out, screaming, sweating, crying, bleeding. Sleeping, reading, writing. Cleaning, looking through magazines, knitting, watching movie after movie, driving for forever. Get a new piercing, tattoo.

A new photo.


I'm tired of looking a pretty things.
Pretty people
with pretty clothes
and pretty expressions.


Where's my tripod?

Alright.. so... whatever

I think in the last few weeks I've been labeled "bi polar", "personality disorder" or some similar counterpart way more than I thought I would. I was even called "angsty artist" by a professor. ARTIST?! sweet.

But I will continue my inter mantra of : You are not creative. You are not Artistic. You are nothing specail. You have no idea what's going on. You know nothing.


I've been putting off going to get that book, only because I know all the stores are swamped my silly Christmas shoppers. You know, the drunk dads and the moms who will upturn other's strollers with their superior Gucci double wide with matching diaper bag, sunglasses, with another child tied to a matching Gucci leash.

I want a Gucci leash.

Anyway.. the last two Christmases I worked at the mall, and let me tell you, the average mom shopping for gifts is pretty much the bain of my existence. Or perhaps their rude haughty behavior triggers my anger disorders, encouraging fantasies of throwing something breakable at their heads. Though being cold and rude back really gets them in a tizzy. They're so used to passive aggressive underhanded comments and snide looks towards their miserable drunk husbands, spoiled kids and lesser social disfuntionaries that when some young thing working minimum wage dishes it back they short circuit.

Thank God I am not dealing with them anymore.

Though now I get to deal with drunk young idiots who want everything cheaper, more liquore, some sort of a deal, no tipping. How do I get myself wrapped up in this?

I've decided I'd rather be a secretary.


By the way, no one's getting presents from me. Fuck Christmas. Happy birthday Jesus.

Four AM Inspiration Kick

Well it started at the beginning of the night at some point. When I got home I decided to look through a fat magazing I didn't think I'd searched through yet. Apparently I did, because there were already pages ripped from it, though I ripped a lot more out. There's this article about Djuna Barnes, and I am now dying to get her book [i]Nightwood[/i]. Her photo attracted me, of course, as that's what's always grabbing and leading my attention. I figure if there's good photos, and writing, the words must be good, too. I fear that I am the last to hear about this woman, or perhaps I fear to not be. Maybe my expectations are high. We'll see.

I went out to a club - I mean bar - with my friend Andrea and a few other people. Because of it, I have semi-planned shoots with three people, all with really solid ideas. Sometimes I'll just see an image that just grows when I meet a person, or see them in different light or atmosphere. Those always turn out the best.

I was talking to this girl Jess who I've known for years and I keep telling her I want to photograph her, but never calling her to make official plans. I told her I love the process of shooting with someone I barely know, and developing a relationship over a few different shoots. And then I realized how true it is, and I never do it. I've been mostly all talk. I'm starting to think that my main professor, Jerome, is right. Maybe I'm actually talented.

I'm going back to school next semester, signed up for the classes yesterday. Jerome gave me incompletes for PhotoJournalism and Studio (table top), so I have until the end of next semester to finish these classes, which is awesome. I'm good at both (Studio, surprisingly..) and like everything else I could be good at - I just have to go do it. The other classes I've signed up for are Seminar (to take in your last semester, polishing up your portfolio and pretty much shooting whatever you want), Topics (digital Studio fashion), Digital 2 (Digital location fashion), History of Photo 2, and Science of Light 2 (tells you WHY your eyes/lens does/sees the things it does). I may not end up taking one or two of these classes, as it may be too much, but I want them all. I'm pretty gun-ho on doing this semester right.

Fuck Modeling. Both are fun, and I hope to do both, but I have to put my energies where they're best used. Maybe Model Mayhem will be useful after all. ;)

So I guess all is not at a loss here in Utica, NY.

Cafe, NYC, etc

Went down to NYC for a night with Frank. Met Nerlande, and she's just as awesome as I expected. Frank and I didn't end up shooting very much, mostly hanging out, which was cool, but I would have liked to get some more shots in than we did. Oh well, there's always next time.

It was the most depressing trip to NY I've ever made, mostly because my sister Melody was so close and I couldn't go see her because we aren't talking.

The place Frank and I stayed at was right next to the Church of Scientology. Suddenly I desperately want to know more about it. You know, because walking by several times, drunk and making faces at them caused a chain reaction inside of me to understand this crazy thing called Scientology. It's my obsession with anything religious or occult. It's totally facinating and I totally believe in ali-ums.

May I just mention again that my cats are pretty much the best things ever. Obsessed with them as well. I'm obsessed with a lot of things.

Saw the Golden Compass. I loved it, of course. I love anything fantasy, magical, childish, fantastic, etc etc.

This photo is of two girls at this hippy fest I try to attend every year. So far I've gone twice. It's called Drum-n-splash and it's where all these hippy types get together and drum all day and all night. Day time is when you take drumming or dancing classes, and then at night use those learned skills at either of the two big bonfires and everyone acts tribal and no one is judgmental. It's wicked fun. And the "splash" part comes in because of a stream/water hole where said hippies get naked. Actually there's generally a lot of nakedness. I'm shy though, so I don't get naked.

Anyway, it's a super bad scan of the shitty print, not the good print, so forgive me my lazines. This photo and two others got put up in a cafe in a small town right outside of Utica. I priced them really ridiculously like $93.17 which, clearly, I think is hillarious.