Dear Douchebag Who Stole My Hasselblad

Seriously you can go fuck yourself, I hope you live a long terrible life and I hope you believe in hell and I hope you get to go there and face all the fucked up demons you've created with your dishonesty and generally shitty life.

More than anything, I just wish I could get my Dad's dog tag that was being kept safe at the bottom of the bag.

In retrospect I always seem to have premonitions about bad things- I looked at his tag over and over wondering if I should put it somewhere safer, but I liked it there with my camera, and I always had my camera bag with me, I'd cling to it while traveling, terrified of losing it and now it's gone- of my own stupidity for not only leaving it in my mom's car, but for leaving the car door locked (though I would never do that on purpose). I keep wondering that if I had actually tried to find it if I would have found it, but I let it go, feeling too defeated by it being gone to even hold the hope of finding it again. I also wonder if I should have stayed on top of the investigator who was in charge of my case, but I also think he doesn't give a damn.

What sparked this is going through my film and realizing how much more medium format film I have over 35 and how much I prefer my square shots to my small format. I miss my Rollieflex more, that camera was magical and was given to me by a very generous photographer who believed in me.

I feel so frustrated, having had some lowlife take my main camera from me, taking my favorite tool, denying my voice and vision it's proper medium.

Sure sure, it's not the camera it's the person behind it. But we all have our favorite pens, brushes, guitar, whatever. I keep telling myself that I wont put energy into continuing to mourn the loss of my camera, but to look forward into the future. I have my Olympus OM-4 and a shitty digital I hate and never use. I keep thinking to leave the Nikon D70s behind somewhere, just ditch it, since I hate it so much. But truth is, it's a fine medium, even if it's terribly out of date. Make due with what you have Meagan, beggars can't be choosers.

But all I want to do is skip some steps and start making a little more money, sell some prints, something! All my best stuff is on my squares, though, and I look at the other work as un-uniform. Perhaps all of it is, and the coming months spent in the warm and new territories of New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada and (especially) California will bring me to what I'm looking for.

My last shoot of 2011 will be of my sister Melody, tomorrow. I hope to be able to drag her out of bed around sunrise and catch the dawn, then chase down the perfect light and location around the waters and old Underworld of Chicago...

On another note, I took my first pole dancing class yesterday and got my snatch waxed for the first time this morning. Shit hurt of course and I'm painfully aware of the lack of bush going on downstairs and I'm pretty sure I'm not very comfortable about the whole thing. I believe full nudes will be put on the backburner for a while until I am.

It sucks, lately I feel incredibly not pretty. I look at pictures of myself and I'm disgusted.