Thriftwares

Today I went out to Syracuse to work for this girl Holly. She's real sweet and runs an ebay store called Thriftwares. She has incredible style and some retardedly fucking awesome clothes. This looks to be a promising relationship. Like seriously. My eyes just lit up with ideas as (as she put it) I posed as her Life Size Barbie. I really love not having to do anything with the clothes situation. And to top it off she's super cute and I will be shooting her if I have to peer-pressure her 5'2'' ass! Dammit.

I'm anxious to get down to the City again. I feel like right now my life is more down there than it is here. I spend most of my time waiting to live my life properly, enjoyably. I feel most of the time I'm just trying to fill empty days, trying to hurry those days which only make them longer. I've never been so productive. When I'm not shooting or processing or printing, I'm writing or reading or cleaning. Or talking. I do a lot of talking between ten pm and two am. But that's when I'm back in a Brooklyn Kitchen next to an open window and, having wrapped my naked body in a blanket, trying not to chain smoke. Unfortunately pale skin, red wine and smoke looks so damn appealing to me. But I'm really in my kitchen, five hours away.

Speaking about aesthetic pleasures:

I keep thinking about that Avedon video that both James and Jerome showed me. Avedon talks about using his photography as a kind of therapy. Something about "it" coming out of his system and onto the page. I can't stop thinking about this, and that is the way I'll be attacking my semester. Taking my frustrations with my relationship with my my sister. Taking my desires. Taking my pains. Why wouldn't I be doing this? Silly, that this should make such an impact on my thoughts, considering it's a natural way to view your art. I guess that's the problem; I have a hard time thinking myself an artist.

Which somehow leads me to thinking about showing my work to my Seminar class. (Which is the class where you work on your "final" portfolio.) No one in that class has seen any of my work. I was shaking and couldn't look at the students as I showed my prints. I'm a total attention seeker, but hate crowds or public-esque speaking. I especially hate judgment. They had nice things to say, and since then, they're nicer. I like nice. I even passed around a stack of Polaroids, including the nude black and whites of Sarah.

Science of Light was fun the other day. We (like always) were doing some experiment with the 4x5 and I (like always) was running our group and got pissed off at the camera because it wasn't listening to me. Of course I was trying to do some complicated Schime-en-floogle thing and had to fuck with both the front and the back but had the little boxes on too much of a tilt which is bullshit cause I should have been able to do it anyway.

None the less. I finally got it and sat down with the question sheet to finish the lab, letting whoever else clean up, and still fuming. I actually quite like being the leader of that group. It gives me this lovely power where I've dedicated Film Boy and Measure Girl and Recorder. I hold out my hand and snap at Film boy and demand Measure Girl to check that those two boxes are twelve and a half centimeters away from each other and it's all quite satisfying.

Even after getting pissed off, it was this wonderfully fulfilling pissed off. If that makes sense. I like throwing random stuff and scowling and bitching.

And it's nice because no one gets irritated at me because they know their lab will come back with perfect scores. That and I'm not mean to them, I keep it entertaining, and explain to Kelly what she doesn't understand.




So seriously, I have a wardrobe stylist.



And I get to see James on Sunday.
HIGHLIGHT!! (in pink)






James cleaned up some tidbits on this cause he's fucking anal. ;)
The more I look at it, the more I love it.