a moment, a love, a dream, a laugh

i am wholly overwhelmed.

in the past week and a half, i've photographed amanda palmer, amanda blank, peaches, the mtvu woodie awards, the watson twins, and the pixies. all nerdy fan excitement aside, this means one thing: i've created a lot of work for myself to do. i'm still not done editing the amanda blank, woodie, or watson twins photos, and i won't be anytime soon because i'm going out of town until sunday.

i'll be accompanying katie to boston to have thanksgiving with her family. i'm trying not to think about it too much. katie's family is great, and even though our relationship is difficult for her mother, everyone treats me like i belong. i can't help but be a bit sad, though. this will be the third thanksgiving i spend away from my family, and i miss them terribly when i can't be with them on holidays. finances are more difficult than they usually are this year (which says a lot, i guess, because my family has had financial troubles since i can remember) and it feels a lot like they've given up. we dot the eastern seaboard, from miami to orlando to north carolina to new york, and i'm realizing what a feat it was that everyone managed to find themselves in one place last year. i haven't seen my grandparents since february. it's been may since i've seen my mother or brothers. i don't usually go so long without. i miss them.

mostly, i wish we could skip the end of the year, the holidays. the anniversary of chris's death is upon us, and the holidays lack the warmth i so crave. if i could avoid it, i would, but living where i do, it's an impossibility. the city has been gearing up for christmas over the past few weeks. colorful lights dot the streets. columbus circle is beautiful, and christmas music blares. i catch my train there after work, so avoiding it the way i can avoid fifth avenue or rockefeller center is not an option. if i could just turn off my emotional center for awhile...

i freaked out at katie over it the other night, and unfairly projected all of that pain onto our relationship. i realized what i was doing in the midst of this heart-heavy conversation and apologized. i'd internalized so much that i reached a boiling point and it spilled over. the sad thing is that, the older i get, the more pain builds up from various sources, and i can't just pretend that things are alright on june 27th or march 1st or november 28th. life is life, and it hurts, and i need to learn to deal with it. the thing about me is that i pay attention to time. i keep track of anniversaries, dates, milestones, loss. if i spent all of that time avoiding the pain, when would i have time to live?

i've lost my focus. this was meant to be a placeholder entry, something to let you all know i'm still alive and show you some pictures, but then i let all that sadness take over. the thing is, my life is not all that sad, and it's not particularly difficult. it's charmed and beautiful and i've had it so much harder. maybe i'm just having a hard time coming to terms with my double life as SUPERSTAR ROCK PHOTOGRAPHER and DOMESTICATED (like a cat) COUCH POTATO.

anyway, here's a song recommendation: lisa hannigan - ocean and a rock. get it. right now. especially if you've ever been in a long distance relationship.

and some pictures:




this is peaches. the bitch is crazy.

i managed to find myself backstage at hammerstein ballroom and ran into kim deal warming up. then i freaked out and left.

this is a shot of the setlist around the time the band went onstage.



the pixies. frank black! kim deal! these pictures didn't come out as well as i'd intended, but what can you do?

my journal with photo passes.


alison mosshart and jack black during red carpet arrivals.

a candid of mary louise parker and her pretty boyfriend, charlie mars. that woman is walking sex, i'm not even kidding.

this is my first love, jen, with chris. it was taken in my bedroom on halloween 2000. i think he may have been fifteen. it's one of the few photos i have of him, and i keep it in my cubicle.

show me your teeth.

i think this is my favorite of the set because it was a genuine moment where i made amanda laugh. i can't remember what inane thing had just popped out of my mouth, but it was clearly awesome enough to get this great smile.

i'm not gonna live on one side of an ampersand

so, i got to make portraits of amanda palmer on saturday evening. i think i'm still in shock.

she'd just gotten into a car accident, got to the venue late, and still managed to be gracious enough to pose for me. i'd been standing around for a bit, had picked out some spots downstairs that would be good to shoot in. thing about portraits on the fly is that you really never can plan them. it's all about seat-of-the-pants action.

once she was ready, her tour manager, steven, pulled me backstage. amanda and i went into her dressing room and decided to do some artsy shots, rather than have her fully made-up. actually, that was more her decision, but i was fully behind it. i don't really want to make the same portrait everyone else already has, and i'm much more interested in the fine art aspect of all of this than the editorial one. i just don't have an editorial eye.

we shot in her dressing room, against the mirror. the light was very warm, and she was wearing this great joan jett t-shirt (sent to her personally from joan jett herself, le sigh). the great thing about amanda is that she's a performance artist, she's expressive, and she's been doing this forever. she doesn't feel awkward in front of a camera, and she didn't need me to tell her what to do, which is something that's not exactly in my skill set (yet?) to begin with. we worked for about ten minutes, and i think i got as many usable shots. i can't pick one solid favorite yet, but i'm also not done editing.

i had one burning question to ask, and it was this: best strip club in boston? after i asked, we were briefly interrupted by someone. this happened a couple of times, one of which allowed for me to meet mr. neil gaiman, so i wasn't exactly complaining. once we got back to work, she answered quickly: the glass slipper. i told her the story of the first date katie and i went on, probably accidentally, to a strip club in the florida keys last thanksgiving. she seemed pretty amused by it all.

once we were done, she offered me some of the amazing-smelling tamales everyone was eating, but i'd just gorged myself on my favorite falafel, so i didn't have any. she told me i could hang out and shoot anything i wanted, including soundcheck, and so i did. i got to see run-throughs of "mrs. o," "oasis," a cover of the ting tings song "that's not my name," and a spontaneous go at st. vincent's "marry me." they almost put together an arrangement of the latter, but decided not to.

sadly, i didn't stay for the show. they were over capacity on the guest list, and i didn't want to watch the show alone, so i gave up my ticket. i know that sounds prissy, but i go to a lot of shows alone, and it gets tiresome. i ended up leaving after soundcheck to hit the peaches/amanda blank show because katie and i were both supposed to be on the list, but it seems the openers' lists got purged, and katie had to wait for me for like 45 minutes after she'd busted her ass hoofing it out to the venue to meet me. it sucked because katie loves amanda blank, and i was dying to see peaches's whole show, but i only ended up staying for four songs.

so, there's that. here are a couple of shots i've got edited of the amanda shoot. plenty more to come.


this is more of an outtake. i don't think it's a great shot, but i love that i'm IN it, and that amanda wanted me in it.

a series of interactions that lead to the loss of a friendship

the following is a series of internet/text-based interactions which lead to the loss of a close friend. excluding the catalyst (which is necessary for providing background) and brief greetings we exchanged in person on 10/31 and 11/11, the text below accounts for the entirety of our communication with one another.

this will be long, and i apologize. if not for the fact that she posted an entry in her blog which completely misrepresents my intentions and takes my words out of context in order to make me look like a jerk (because all of our mutual friends read it), i would have left this in the privacy of my inbox.


the catalyst:

around the end of october, friends mitch and quinn invited me to go see the upright citizens brigade with them.

two dollar PBRs and a shitty guest comedian make for a short attention span and we're in the back giggling at one another. quinn leans over, tells me she has a secret to tell me and that i will think it funny.

she says, "ashleigh put that naked picture of you on a mug and gave it to mitch for his birthday a couple of years ago." key phrase: a couple of years ago.

i say, "which one? the FULL NUDE?"

she nods in affirmation.

the fucked up part is that, at the time when she did it, i didn't LIKE mitch, which is likely why everyone was forced into secrecy about it. the fact that they all went along with it is another issue in itself.

so i text ashleigh, and here is a snippet of that conversation:

me: hey, thanks for putting my tits on a mug.
her: ha! wait, are you just learning this info?
her: you guys should come meet us on LES.
me: um, i am.
her: coming or learning? want me to make you one of mine? or mitchell's?
me: both, because i'm kinda super not happy about it.
her: i'm confused. you are coming and want both mugs? don't be unhappy. want me to get it and destroy?
me: i want mugs of you and mitch's boobs. two mugs. one of each.
her: deal. xoxo.

all the while, she's texting mitch and quinn, berating them for telling me.

it seems to end in an okay place, but i'm still bothered by it. i know that, when i tell my girlfriend, she will be irate. i decide to wait a few days to sort it out on my own, and promise myself that i will address it if i'm still upset then.

five days pass. i know we'll be at the same party on halloween. i decide i should e-mail her.


from Me
to Ashleigh
date Fri, Oct 30, 2009 at 10:56 AM
subject on tits on mugs and universal shittiness

hey:

before i see you tomorrow night, i think i need to let you know how i feel about the whole tits-on-a-mug thing, so that you don't think you've gotten away with a real asshole move, and so that i don't avoid saying anything about it at all because i so fear confrontation that i'd typically let something like that slide so as not to create a stir.

to start, and to be clear, the problem is not that my tits (among other things) are on a mug in mitch's cupboard. it's that you didn't ask. it's that you didn't respect me enough to ask. it's that, just because i showed you something personal which i'm not ashamed of, you took it and did what you wanted with it, thinking that, somehow, it was yours to do what you wanted with because it's on the internet (mind you, it's in a very private place on the internet). it's that you kept it a secret because you KNEW you were wrong in doing it. it's that you conned a group of people who i considered, at the very least, friendly to me, if not my friends, into keeping it a secret with you. it's that they did. it's that you didn't apologize. it's that, while you were trying to make nice without apologizing, you were berating the people i was with, one of whom who imparted the information on me, for doing so, as if they had no right. it's that you won't take responsibility for it.

i get that you were trying to be funny, but you can't disrespect and/or hurt other people for laughs. at least, not your fucking friends. i feel like the butt of a very old joke. i'm hurt. i took my time to think about it, and to let it sink in, and that's how i feel.

this is not an attempt at creating drama, and i'd rather this e-mail stayed between you and me, because it's an issue between you and me. i just need you to know that you hurt me, and that it hurts because i have genuinely tried to be your friend over the past few years.

i don't know if you know it, but you are really fucking hard to be friends with. sure, you're fun. you're funny. you're a good time to be with. but, when it comes down to it, you spend most of your time trying to be an emotional automaton, and that doesn't work out well when you're friends with someone. i know i've seen parts of you that other people haven't, and i appreciate that--but you have to be willing to be that for other people too, and you're not. you're too busy drowning the hurt, and yourself, in jameson. there have been times when i've been vulnerable in your presence, and you've been so closed off to it that it just compounded whatever hurt i was already feeling.

i made the decision a long time ago to just accept you as you are. to accept that you're selfish and controlling, and you don't mind hurting people to get what you need. and even now, while you ARE actually feeling something, while you ARE hurting, you're missing everything else. it seems like you think the sun doesn't shine on anyone but you and the people in a five foot radius of you, and that's not the reality of the thing. you made it very clear a long time ago that i was no longer as awesome as you initially thought me to be because i decided i didn't want to drink my life away, and you made that decision way before katie ever came around.

if i didn't love you for being the person to pick me up and make me feel at home in this city, for really being my first friend here, i would never have made the exceptions i have for you. but i love you, and i guess that's what love does. and the fucked up thing is that i don't make exceptions like that. usually, i walk away.

i've veered off my intended path, but i'm just not sure what i did to deserve to be disrespected like that. and, like i said, i don't intend for this to create an issue. i wanted you to know that i was hurt, and i wanted to give you the opportunity to apologize properly (assuming you're so inclined. if not, then we have other problems, i guess.) so that we can move the fuck on.

i'll see you tomorrow.


xoxo,
des


from Ashleigh
to Me
date Fri, Oct 30, 2009 at 12:23 PM
subject Re: on tits on mugs and universal shittiness

I'm not selfish and controlling and I don't hurt people to get what I want. I think the sun shines on everyone when it's sunny, literally and metaphorically. Also, I don't have any issues with how much you ever drank or how much you drink now that you are with kk, and it's unfortunate that you interpreted anything I've ever said or done to mean that. I'm actually super-happy for you for finding kk and being in love.

Sorry you think all of those things, and again, I'm sorry about the mug.

Sent from my iPhone

--

on wednesday night, we both went to the same event at the museum of modern art. katie and i arrived early, checked out the exhibit, and were hanging out on a couch somewhere when everyone arrived and said hello. ashleigh and tova, a former friend of mine whom i had a falling out with over a year ago, trailed them and, in what seemed very much an orchestrated maneuver, said, "hey, des!" as they passed.

i was infuriated. frustrated. embarrassed.

the curtness of her last e-mail nagged at me, and i found myself on the verge of tears. i couldn't figure out why someone who claimed to care about me wouldn't give me the time of day, wouldn't make en effort to help find a solution. all i wanted was for her to say that she was sorry and mean it. it didn't feel like she'd meant it.

i wanted to leave, but i didn't want it to seem obvious how upset i was. i didn't want anyone else to know there was an issue, either. i was trying to keep it between us, as i'd asked her to do. i downed four glasses of red wine. i may or may not have accidentally cornered quinn about it. she said she felt guilty, and i told her not to, that it wasn't her fault, and she wasn't the one who needed to be taking responsibility for it. she made her escape.

there was nothing else worth noting that evening, aside from some terribly expensive potato pancakes at a diner in midtown.

then last night, as i was taking a break from cleaning our disgusting kitchen, i opened up google reader to see the following entry in ashleigh's blog:


Burning Bridges
November 12th, 2009

Last night I saw a good friend. We didn’t speak to each other at all.

Recently, this friend felt as though I wronged her by means of a joke. I apologized and assured her that I meant no harm. Of course, the latter should go without saying between good friends.

A few days passed and I still felt bad about the situation. Mutual confidants assured me that everything was fine.

And then I got an email from my good friend. “You’re really fucking hard to be friends with,” she wrote. “You spend most of your time trying to be an emotional automaton… You’re too busy drowning the hurt, and yourself, in Jameson… You’re selfish and controlling, and you don’t mind hurting people to get what you need… It seems like you think the sun doesn’t shine on anyone but you and the people in a five foot radius of you”. Assumptions about my opinions of her life were also presented. She told me that she has made exceptions for me, and usually she would just have walked away. She ended the email with love.

The inaccurate description of me by my good friend was only half of what bothered me. No one knows me better than I know myself. I am not selfish and controlling, and I certainly don’t hurt people to get what I need. My needs are fairly simple: food, shelter, friends, good times and bad times (equally inspiring), and an occasional new dress. Never do I recall even being tempted to inflict physical or emotional pain on another to obtain something from the list. I think the sun shines on everyone when it’s sunny, literally and metaphorically.

Furthermore, I don’t know what I have said or done to make her think that I have judgments about her life. As long as my friends are happy, I am happy. If they have a boyfriend/girlfriend that consumes most of their lives, that’s terrific. I am happy when my friends are in love, and I will always be there to comfort them if their heart breaks.

Finally, yes I have problems with my emotions. This is not a unique characteristic. For most, emotions are both hard to show and hard not to show. In my case, it has nothing to do with Jameson consumption. I am living my life the very best I can, and I never take for granted the people around me who support me and love me no matter what. Friendship to me means unconditional love and loyalty.

So, to reiterate, the previous three paragraphs are only a part of what troubled me with this email. My main problem was that it was cruel and unnecessary. Even if these are my weaknesses, I find it hurtful that a good friend would throw them in my face. I am imperfect, and I acknowledge that fact in my head every single day.

But I find it hard to see imperfection in my friends. I see human moments. Everyone can be selfish at times, and everyone can be controlling. Most importantly, everyone can be in need – the person who broke your heart or the friend who made a list of your supposed defects. To give to these people and to love them is not heroic or commendable, it’s humanity at its best.

I’m not sure what this email was intended to do, if not simply to make me feel terrible. (She was hurt by my joke, so maybe this was an eye for an eye?) In any case, I put my self-hatred out there. Please be aware that I love myself just as much, only I don’t often write about it.

I feel there were expectations of a reaction. Expectations can be exhausting to live up to, so I choose to just live. If I unintentionally hurt someone in the process, I will ask for forgiveness. And when someone hurts me, I will use my strength to forgive them without request, as I have here, with my good friend.

Unfortunately, things are not the same now. I find it hard to hug someone who has vilified me. That being said, I still love her and if I ever find her in need, I will not hesitate to help her.

It would pain me to know that anyone else I hold so close to my heart feels this way about me. I hope my friendship is not a burden from which my loved ones long to be relieved.

However, if this is the case and you like to burn bridges, I’ve got plenty of matches. But beware – my bridges are made of stone. My bridges are hard to burn.

--

as i mentioned above, our mutual friends read that. i felt like she'd sidestepped the entire issue, and her skewed perception made the whole thing into something it wasn't. i decided the only appropriate response would be to say what i needed to say in the public space of her blog itself:


before i say anything else, i'm going to include the full text of my original e-mail to you here, because it has become clear that you've both missed its point and created a much larger problem:

[TEXT DELETED BECAUSE IT'S POSTED ABOVE]

and now, in a public forum, so that my words/intentions won't be twisted into anything more (or less) than what they are, i have a few other things to say.

first, thank you for doing exactly what i asked you not to by sharing something personal with the entire world. again. moreover, thank you for only sharing the parts of it which would vilify me, which is an accusation you directed at me in your post above. it seems my effort at finding a solution has resulted in the very drama i was trying to avoid.

ashleigh, you took a photo of my completely naked body without my permission and put it on a mug for mitchell years ago--from what i understand, before quinn even moved here. the fucked up thing is that, if it really WAS that long ago, i didn't even LIKE mitch. so i can see why the whole thing was kept a secret. you knew you were wrong when you did it. but really, how can you say that you don't HURT people if that's the very thing you DID that you WON'T ADMIT TO HERE?

you HURT me. you took MY body and you used it without my consent for your pleasure. is that something you do to someone you consider a friend? i don't think so. regardless of how open i've been with my body in the past, it is MY decision and mine alone to share it or not to share it. this is no small joke, and it's not a laughing matter. you used my body to get a laugh at my expense.

i would like to point out that you did not, in fact, apologize to me until i e-mailed you. i got a very curt response from you the very same day, and it seemed apparent that you'd completely missed the point of my message. you were so focused on the other things i said (and clearly still are) that you couldn't even muster a sincere apology. and even then, it was an afterthought.

regardless, when i saw you at the party the next evening, i said hello and did my best to avoid awkwardness (and failed). funny that you say you find it hard to hug someone who's vilified you. that's how i feel, too.

you wanted to know what my intention was in sending you my original message, and it was to clear up a possible misunderstanding, to let you know that you HURT me. i included some other things near the end because i was upset and because it was how i felt and still feel, things i'd observed over time which i chose not to address until that very moment. i didn't say those things because i wanted to lash out, but because i wanted to be honest and already had an issue i needed to lay out on the table. maybe it was too much at once. i didn't want to hurt you, and i'm sorry that i did, but it almost seems a moot point now.

regarding what you've said/done to make me think you've made judgments about my life, i recall very clearly the night i went to a dive bar with you and mitch after a charlotte martin show (just over a month ago), and as we sat at the bar, beers in hand, and i took photos of you and mitch fooling around, you said, "hey, remember before you were dating katie when you were fun?"

you may not remember it because you were drunk, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen, and intoxication isn't a justification for being an asshole. that statement burned, and not only for the obvious reasons, but because i felt you'd dropped me a long time before that, but i chose not to say anything. i sure did stop getting invited out. occasionally, someone would approach me and say, "hey des, are you doing [insert superfun event here]?" and i would have no idea about it. once that had happened several times, i brought it up to quinn, who quickly dismissed it and told me i was crazy. but it continued to happen, over and over. if someone else would invite me out, i'd go. either way, the entire time i'd sit around berating myself for being hypersensitive because i felt like a party crasher. eventually, i just detached myself anyway because it hurt that i felt like my friends didn't like me and i had no idea what to do about it.

i guess maybe i did stop being fun. i was depressed. i was lonely. i spent most of my first winter here in bed in my room because i couldn't motivate myself to do anything else. and then my dad died, and it opened up a world of hurt for me which i'd never expected because my relationship with my father wasn't exactly the healthiest or most involved. i felt ALONE, and with the exception of tova babysitting me for two days after the fact, i WAS alone. so yeah, i guess i stopped being fun LONG before katie showed up at the beginning of this year. i'm really sorry i stopped being entertaining for you, ashleigh.

i don't really know where to go from here. i was hurt before, and i continue to be so, for various reasons. instead of taking advantage of my genuine attempt to communicate with you, you shoved it aside. then, last night, you and tova (who we all know i've had a falling-out with) orchestrated your little entrance together when, after everyone else had exchanged greetings, the two of you, in unison, chirped, "hi, des!" and walked on, ignoring me for the rest of the evening. i was nearly in tears over it. but you really finished it up right when you decided that writing a passive-aggressive blog about it was acceptable because you knew that i, and all of our mutual friends, would read it. clearly the way to handle a tough situation.

thank you for that. i was honest and genuine with you, and i tried my damndest to repair the problem, but this silence game, this back and forth via various internet-based outlets, is a ball game i don't want to play. my intention was not, and is not, to burn bridges, but i give up. i don't want to lose one of my closest friends over something that would have been remedied with a simple, sincere apology, but which instead got blown way out of proportion. it looks like i don't have a choice, though, and that sucks. if that's not the case, please feel free to let me know.

--

i woke up this morning to the following e-mail.


from Ashleigh
to Me
date Fri, Nov 13, 2009 at 4:56 AM
subject (no subject)

I still love you and you need not post all that on my blog. Sorry you're hurt. I am too. I said I'm sorry. Friendship ruined but I'll always be there for you if you need me. Unfortunate that it went down like this. I wish you nothing but happiness. Don't over analyze and be hateful. The fact that you ever question how much I love you is troublesome. Anything ever said about you and KK was in jest. I like her and I like you. Sorry you took anything so personally.

I truly hope you have happiness.


i guess it's better this way. the friendship has been burdensome in a lot of ways for a long time. i've seen her throw tantrums and stomp on people to get her way, and i have been no exception to that. i've seen exactly one person stand up to her, and he found himself in the exact same position i'm standing in now. i'm extremely guilty of not engaging people emotionally these past couple of years, which makes it tough to cultivate genuine friendships, but i did make the effort with her until it became obvious that my woes fell on deaf ears with her. worse, in the few instances where she needed to be vulnerable, i was there to listen. in any case, these relationships require a mutual back and forth, and i spent way too much time playing by ashleigh's rules. i'll miss her, but i'm not letting her walk on me anymore.

maybe a week in the tropics will help to remind you how nice life can be

1. i started to write a blog entry about my tattoos, but realized everyone who reads me probably already knows the stories behind most, if not all, of them.
2. i FINALLY got my camera back at six o'clock yesterday afternoon after battling with fedex, who managed to just drive it around in a truck for two fucking days. as you can imagine, i was less than thrilled about that.
3. i've been running a print sale on facebook for the past week or so, but didn't think to mention it in my blog. if you're interested: $7 (+ shipping) 5x7 prints (i can do $15 8x12s, too) of anything i've ever done that you might want. check the website or the flickr for your choices. and then e-mail me to let me know what you want. but do it soon, because i'm about ready to put this print order in.
4. this weekend i'm doing portraits of amanda palmer in brooklyn before her show. sadly, i'm not attending the show. my plus one was taken because they were way over capacity on their comp list, and i'm tired of going to shows alone. plus, peaches and amanda blank are playing the same night, katie loves amanda blank, and neither of us have ever seen peaches, so i think we'll go to that one so i can get some awesome pictures. if i get a bug up my ass and NEED to see the afp, i will find a way. that's just how i do.

and with that, here are some pictures:





thao with the get down stay down @ the bowery ballroom, 11/4/09. i shot this on spec for SPIN. i've done this a couple of times. if they publish one of my photos, i'll get paid $1,000. wish me luck.

the night i shot the thao show just happened to be the same night the yankees won the world series. this is what our neighborhood looked like when we got back.

last weekend, i was hired to document four performance pieces curated for a show called "how to see art in bushwick," which was part of a larger brooklyn-wide art event going on that day.


this piece, performed by john bonafede, was called "bloodlines." the performer had a string tied to his lip, which was attached to his mother through her apartment window several stories up. while someone interviewed her about the performer's life (this was being videotaped and broadcast live to viewers from the ground via a monitor), she would occasionally pop her head out and drip some "blood" down the line. on the ground around him was a family tree, drawn in chalk. it was pretty amazing. i don't know that my photographs do it any justice, really.


this piece, by julia fotheringham and jarryd lowder, was also pretty awesome. i think i understand it on a basic level, but maybe not enough to articulate it. the performers created a series of interactions using lcd screens connected to surveillance cameras. i think it was supposed to be some sort of commentary on how our culture has become obsessed with voyeurism, thanks to the internet, and also how that spawned this weird brand of narcissism (ie., facebook-based popularity as evidenced via number of photos on a profile, or even the whole camgirl phenomenon). maybe i overanalyzed it and i'm way off-base. anyway, further research shows that fotheringham is a dancer for fischerspooner, and i think that's pretty badass.

in addition:

1. i dreamt yesterday morning that, while eating fast food, a man shot me and slit katie's throat.
2. loud noises, strange noises, and odd network issues with t-mobile have reawakened my neurotic fear of the apocalypse.

what the fuck is wrong with me?

i can run using every last ounce of energy

i don't really know how well-known it is that i used to be in band (not the cool kind, but the nerdy kind) or that i played the flute and the piccolo for years or how much i loved it or why i stopped, suddenly, one day. it's been on my mind, though, as it becomes increasingly common that facebook suggests i become friends with brian wuttke, my former band teacher, whom i share 48 mutual friends with. seeing his face brings back an old, deep hurt. it becomes more apparent with time just how badly i dealt with it, how much i buried it.

so, let's go back in time: me, in high school, flute in hand. baggy jeans, red (and then bleach blonde, and then black) hair, angsty, with equally weighty penchants for goth subculture, writing whiny poetry, and the word "fuck." i was, by no means, a model student. i even managed to fail marching band one quarter. i hated practicing on my own, and i hated practicing on that field. i hated being called to attention military-style, and i hated having to do push-ups if i refused to submit. i hated the sun and the sweat and being singled out. i continue to hate that i remember the mantra they made us repeat freshman year when we were learning how to roll step: heel to ball toe. to this day, i'm not sure what it was about these militaristic rank-and-file organizations that made me think my rebellious ass could thrive in them (i was in JROTC too for a year), but sometimes i'm slow on the uptake. one thing i did love, though, was playing classical music. and, in my high school, in order to be a part of the wind ensemble, you had to be in marching band. so i suffered through, but i can't say i was necessarily a good sport about it.

in tenth grade, a couple of friends of mine made me question my sexuality. upon further consideration, i disclosed to my best friend, jen, in the midst of a TWELVE HOUR phone conversation that i thought i might be bisexual. by the end of that conversation, she told me that she had a crush on me (this was december 1998). a few months later, we were dating. fast-forward to june 2000, to jen's graduation party. we had been together for over a year, but we didn't publicize the fact. being openly gay was just not an option. there were no openly gay kids around, and the rumors that flew about us were plenty scary. there were a handful of people who knew, including my mom and some friends. my mom was under the impression it was all just a phase, so in order to appease her, i went on pity dates with boys here and there. in one case, i went out with a boy i didn't pity, who was attractive, who then took advantage of me. i remember the guilt that wracked me after that, and i think i stopped trying to appease my mom. at the end of the year, i got into an argument with a friend, who knows what about, but i wrote her a note telling her that jen was my everything and comparing my relationship to the one she had with her long-time boyfriend (they've since married). somehow, that note ended up in the hands of said friend's mother, who was at jen's graduation party.

for most of the day, things were fine. there were tons of kids, a pool, music. a little after 6, things started to wind down and people started to leave. we'd all spent a lot of time at jen's house winding down after football games. there was an understanding that the kids had their party during the day and the adults had theirs in the evening. the only kids left were me and the ones belonging to the adults that stuck around, one of whom was my band teacher. jen and i sat in her bedroom, on the bed, gawking at the pile of gifts that had accumulated over the course of the day. and then there was her mother, red-faced and frantic, with this quiet rage. i don't remember everything that happened--she must have mentioned the note because i know that's how she found out. i do remember this one sentence, and really, it was all i needed to hear: "if i had a gun, i'd kill you." she repeated herself. and i was on the phone, calling my mother. jen's mom left the room, and we were hysterical. i remember kissing her like i'd never seen her again.

my mom managed to make a twenty minute drive in six minutes. she pounded on the door and i bolted, collapsing on the patio outside the house in a heaving ball at her feet as she and jen's mom traded barbs, all the other parents in the background gawking. someone called the cops. i had my say with jen's mom. i don't know what it was because i was hysterical. my mom put me in the car and sped away, making sure their front yard felt the wrath of her tires. i spoke on the phone with the police soon after we got home. the parents (my teacher included) had all told them that i was asked to leave, but wouldn't. jen confirmed this for them. i remember being hurt that she wouldn't stand up for me, but she always has buckled to her mother's sway, and now i understand that it was her home life that would have been affected in terrible ways.

i went to a different school the next year, but it wasn't some dramatic exit because my life had been threatened or i was embarrassed. it was because, the year before, i had been invited to a special two year dual-enrollment program on a college campus which i didn't end up applying to because i didn't want to leave jen. my other best friend, kat, had decided to go, and i'd spent a year missing her, so i put in the application for senior year, and i was accepted. luckily. after i'd gone, i went back to my old school once, but felt almost shameful being there. i passed my band teacher in the courtyard, but he wouldn't look at me.

my relationship with jen continued. she managed to lead two lives, because her mother never knew how much time we spent together, nor did she know that we moved to orlando to go to college together. she found out later, though, about three years ago when, after chris died, i fell into her arms at his funeral. she held me until the service was over. that was the first time i'd seen her since jen's graduation party.

so, it seems to me, time heals a lot of wounds. at the very least, it makes them bearable. thing is, even though this still hurts, and i know now that i've pushed away a lot of memories from that time period, i'm capable of forgiveness and putting the past in its rightful place. given that, a couple of weeks back, i requested mr. wuttke as a friend on facebook. he has, so far, ignored this request.

it makes me wonder what happened that night, what i didn't see or hear. what do the parents who were at that party think they know? and what could they really continue to hold against me?

if i save you from drowning, promise me you'll never go away

gripes:
1. my grandfather is in the hospital again. he should be fine, but no one told me until about 5 hours after the fact. i made it very clear that everyone needs to have my number and someone needs to call me immediately when there's an emergency. i'd rather have four calls than no calls. luckily for my mom/uncles, both of their parents are alive. i have not been so lucky. in addition, my grandparents are more like parents to me than my father ever was, so it's fucking imperative that i be IN THE LOOP, k? dammit.
2. the hot water in our apartment is on the fritz. i am obsessive about morning showers, and there's nothing worse than a cold shower or NO shower in the morning. i washed my fucking hair in the fucking sick this morning AND I AM MAD. someone needs to handle this shit!
3. my job situation, while less frustrating now than when i last mentioned it, still makes me want to tear my hair out.
4. i miss my camera. it's currently somewhere in jersey being repaired. i used it on sunday, grabbed it out of my bag on monday on my way to the augusten burroughs reading so i could get some evidence that i definitely did meet yet another one of my heroes, but then it decided that it was broken. FUCK.

anyway, now that i've complained... we went to see tegan and sara last weekend. twice. we were on the list for friday night, and the show was amazing. surprisingly, katie loved them. i'm surprised because, somehow, katie and i have pretty much nothing in common musically. so, it was really nice for us to both enjoy a show. the shooting situation was shitty, but here are some pictures:







on saturday afternoon, i went and got my half-sleeve worked on. it's not done yet, but hootie has seen all the work he's going to see until 2010, for i am taking a break.



we were supposed to go to a halloween party, but now that katie's obsessed, i wrangled us some tickets to the SECOND tegan and sara show of the weekend, and we did that first. the show was good, but not as good as the first one. i almost feel like we might have diluted the magic of the experience by having seen the second show, but whatever. i love me some twins. after that, we hit the party. in transit, i saw a lot of interesting costumes. highlights: sexy versions of freddy krueger, santa claus, and hitler (pantsless, hailing a cab, and laughing about it). otherwise, the holiday was, sadly, pretty anticlimactic.

and now i return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

somethin' so sick about this, my misery's so addictive

on the tail of lyrics from the new album, here's a portrait i did of sara quin yesterday. during my lunch break.



i took three shots. this is actually the product of merging two of them. i liked the moody ambiance of the background in flashless shot, but there were too many shadows on her face. i liked the shadows, but in the shots where i used flash, her face looked flawless. best of both worlds, bitches! is that cheating?

//

on a more personal front, i find myself carrying a lot of pain around lately. all of it sits in my chest. always has. that's where i feel things most heavily. it's this pressure that makes me lose my breath, like i've got an elephant perched there. and usually, during the day, i can process that pain in my head. i can rationalize, synthesize, mull it over, look at it from different angles. it's logical, reasonable, and a solution doesn't seem so impossible. but then the clock ticks down to the end of the day, and i find myself closer to bed, and the moment i get there, when everything's still, i feel the elephant there. i cry myself to sleep a lot.

i don't know how to relieve it. it's a problem i can't solve alone. and i feel stunted. like my words are angst-ridden or trite. i don't want to make myself that vulnerable because i can't open myself to something that won't open itself in return. it's hard to open myself at all lately, but feeling closed out of the one place i can be myself... it's lonely, and paralyzing. i think i can write it down, but the words won't come. i try to verbalize and i end up in tears.

i feel like a vibrating ball of pain, and i'm afraid i'm going to lose my shit if something doesn't change soon. last night, i think i may have had a revelation, but there's this fear hurdle i have to jump over first, and we all know how that goes. i guess it's just going to take some more time, but i know i need help, and i've asked, but i swear, no one hears me.

three things, in order of importance

1. i'm interviewing sara quin (or possibly both of the twins) in an hour and a half. in person!
2. yesterday, i cut all of my hair off. i'm skeptical.

3. last friday, i took pictures of woody harrelson. lollin'!

mark my words, i might do something someday

the past few weeks have been difficult. my new job is infuriating and exhausting. i feel like it's impossible to learn the things i need to know to get things done because i have exactly one resource, and said resource makes it VERY difficult to get the information i need. i go home and sit on the couch and vegetate, instead of making dinner, editing pictures, shooting shows. it's a slump i'm forcing myself out of, especially since tonight is my first night of CMJ madness.

something that's appropriate to point out is this: today is one year since that crazy girl i call my girlfriend waltzed into my life (let's just ignore the fact that we've known each other since we were 11 or 12). it's amazing how quickly time passes. thanks, myspace, for facilitating this whole thing--or at least the beginning of it.

speaking of the girlfriend, she's currently sitting in the airport waiting to board a flight back home for the first time since she moved up here at the end of march. i have a feeling this trip will be big and important for her, and i'm glad for that, even though the planning process was marred by... whatever it was marred by. i have to say, though, i'm jealous. i wish i was going with her.

quick opinions/suggestions:
1. the new tegan and sara album, sainthood comes out on tuesday. it's really great, but as my friend reni says, it's a "grower." listen to it more than once before you form an opinion. "someday" is my favorite track. we interviewed tegan (yes, again) on monday, and it was awesome. she seems really excited.
2. the new thao album, know better learn faster is also really awesome, and a grower. "when we swam" is my favorite track on this one.
3. audrey niffenegger's (the time traveler's wife) new novel, her fearful symmetry is slow to catch, but i enjoyed it. even though the end pissed me off. if any of you have read it, i need someone to discuss with! also, one mr. douglas coupland has a new novel coming out on 11/10, which i'm totally stoked for. it's the sequel to generation x!

i'm considering trying out for the gotham girls roller derby league (not because of whip it!, goddammit, even though i loved that movie). i'm equal parts excited and terrified. i don't think i'll make it onto the league, mostly because it seems like there are just A TON of people going for it, but i may as well try.

anyway, back to work, but here are some photos relevant to life in the past few weeks:


i have a photo in toronto life.

yes, that would be my photo on the cover of the inaugural issue of rockscope magazine.



charlotte martin

i'm gonna go crawl back into my hole now. over and out.

the owl tattoo: a timeline

got my arm worked on today. things are starting to come together, though there's a lot to do still. here's a retrospective thus far:








still need to name that bad boy.

everytime it rains i know it's good to be alive

i had my first two backstage photo shoots this weekend.

i completely bombed the first one with girl in a coma. i can make plenty of [justifiable] excuses, but the fact of the matter is that i came out of it with not one image that's worth looking at, which makes me sad. the girls were really sweet, though, and it was nice to finally meet them. i've shot their live show three times at this point.

last night, i got exactly seven minutes with charlotte martin, who is one of my personal heroes. she and her PR contact have been nothing but amazing. even better, when i went backstage, charlotte introduced me to all the people in the room with her. one of them, and i didn't make this connection immediately, was the photographer who does all of her album art. once i did make the connection, i asked for confirmation, and SHE knew who I was based on some work i've done, which blew my mind.

anyway, here's my favorite shot from our seven minutes together:



oh, and i got an e-mail a bit ago confirming a twenty minute portrait shoot backstage with amanda palmer the night of her nyc show. win!

out of habit

i feel kind of like my world is crumbling around me, but i don't really want to talk about it. it's hard and i'll end up being melodramatic. instead, here are some pictures of things i've shot lately.

passion pit:



phoenix



(i'm trying to pay more attention to drummers lately. i focus most of my time on the lead singer. always.)

sunny day real estate




this weekend: doing portraits with AND shooting both the girl in a coma and charlotte martin shows (terrified. i've never done portraits before, but i started asking and people are saying YES), going to some dance party hosted by lady gaga, and then checking out the renaissance faire at ft. tryon park (near the cloisters, which could be cool).

badass booty badunkadunk bbq

ashleigh had a birthday bbq and mitchell pretty much took over my camera, so there are a gajillion shots of people looking inane, but i decided to blog some highlights:


i have awesome eyebrows.

mitch continues to insist on torturing me.

we are adorbs.

katie said i couldn't have a main facebook picture with anyone but her, so i photoshopped her head onto mitch's body. i made sure to use a horrible picture and to make her head exceptionally large (she complains it's too small regularly) to get her back.

the party was fun. the end.

looking for a beautiful spot out in the skyline

1. first thing's first: i interviewed charlotte martin on monday night. if you don't know, she's one of my heroes. i fell in love with her immediately and by chance several years ago. she's very talkative and very honest. she manages to juggle this intensely emotional side of herself with the cerebral tech geek, the mother, and the wife. it's crazy. we actually ended up talking for an hour, so i've got some work ahead of me when it comes to transcription, but it'll be good. she agreed to let me do some portraits when she plays here in a couple of weeks, so that's simultaneously terrifying and exciting. oh, and for anyone who gives a shit, i got to ask her something i've been dying to know, which is why she hasn't ever covered tori. come to find out, she's done two covers: "tear in your hand" and "never seen blue." she says TIYH is her favorite tori song, and i put in my official request that she play it at the show.



2. so, i've got this new job. i'm still feeling it out, but i think i've come to the conclusion that i wasn't just unhappy with my boss and the lack of challenging day-to-day tasks, but that it's this company, or this side of the music industry, that just exhausts and frustrates me. it's downright DRY. don't get me wrong, licensing video and ringtones will be more challenging than licensing audio backlog for weird rhino re-releases of old shit, but i have to deal with rates and figures and ESCROW and all i really want is to take pictures. so, there's that. maybe i need to cast a line out or something.

3. i shot the sounds last week. it was the toughest shoot i've done in the recent past, as you'll notice from my "artsy" treatment of the photos. it was that or black and white, and i just thought the grain and high contrast looked better.






4. generally trying to keep my head down. there were some things that had been bothering me that i kept on the inside because the wounds are pretty deep. they came out the other day in a way that wasn't necessarily the best and so i'm still sort of working on the sutures.

5. thinking of henry and clare, of paper cranes, possibility, fantasy versus reality, and desire.

und so weiter

i'm re-reading the time traveler's wife. according to my notation in the book, i started reading it for the first time on january 26th, 2009. katie and i had recently started dating. it was dead winter, but i did a lot of swapping time in the office for planes from here to miami every three weeks or so, snow for warm, spring sun. i felt like i was always leaving.

the [end of the] prologue: i hate to be where she is not, when she is not. and yet, i am always going, and she cannot follow.

it was the right book at the right time.

it's become an indirect account of the romantic parts of our relationship, co-existing with henry and clare. a love story within a love story.

we used to write love notes to each other on flights, usually after long weekends. they were always on bev naps, so we had to work our words around the american airlines logo. katie re-read the book recently (july 27th), and in addition to notes she's left interspersed in the pages, she planted one of said love notes, written by me, so that i'd find it again.

after reading the end of the prologue: "i fear this quality in our relationship. now, i think it saves us from a certain reckless stupidity prevalent in new, intense loves like this one. later, i fear it will tear us apart... i hope for our lives to run closely parallel courses someday soon."

and so they do. henry and clare remain in our minds, and we read the book over, discovering the past again in the present.

pp. 277: "i'm going to gay marry you one day. xo, katie."

pp. 427: "hi. i still love you. are you surprised? xo, me." and below it, in response: "and i you. -katie."

the book is still in relatively good condition, though it's spent a lot of time in (and out of) purses, it's pages being dog-eared, the spine bent back. i wonder how many more times we'll read it, how the notes we leave each other will change over time, how we will. and i love henry and clare, but i have to hope for better.

real quicklike:

1. new job starts today!
2. got my half-sleeve worked on on saturday. check it:

3. shot rasputina last night. melora's pregnant!



4. quick thoughts on the [awesome] vmas: i still love taylor swift, goddamn, and i'm pissed i wasn't riding that goddamn f train she performed on! screw kanye west for being a douchecanoe. gaga's still a weirdo and i still love her. pink = heart-shaped pastie.
5. i got my new hard drive in the mail! 1 terrabyte of memory goodness.

tell me about despair, yours, and i will tell you mine.

the weather in new york today is perfect for the occasion. it's rainy, and very windy. it sets a sad mood for a sad day.

i made two observations this morning which were both unique (to my thought process), though i'm surprised i hadn't already covered that territory:
1. 9/11 changed the way generations of kids could/would lead their lives, especially those of us who graduated high school in 2001. when the planes hit the towers, i was in my girlfriend's bed studying for my first collegiate chemistry test. when i found out, i'd just come from said chemistry test. i'd barely had a taste of adulthood yet, and this thing happened that injected FEAR into everyone. i still fight against fear every day of my life--a fear of a different kind, mostly, but i always find myself asking: what the fuck are you so afraid of?
2. because of that fear, i swore i'd never move to new york city.

nothing groundbreaking or particularly inspirational, but it's on my mind. it's not something i'll ever forget about, as it affected me deeply, and 9/11 is always a weird day in this city. i think, like last year, i'll go check out the tribute in lights and focus my thoughts where they should be, and hope it passes as quickly as possible.

did you know that i'm an anal-retentive, conviction-toting artist? 'cause i am.

i'm at a loss.

i spent hours and hours last week making some images that i think are beautiful, and that i'd proudly display with my name on them. come to find out that my "model" is a huge, huge control freak who wants to be airbrushed into oblivion.

let me back up and explain: a month or so back, i received an e-mail from a total stranger explaining that she'd found some of my work, loved it, and thought i'd be a great candidate for a project her friend, rachel fine (whom i've mention) was doing. the project is a cd release show for rachel's album, "own my own." in an effort to be unique, she decided to make it a gallery show. so she found eleven photographers, one for each track on the album, and eleven concepts were drawn up, each a collaboration between the artist and the model.

going in, i was terrified. this is not what i do. i am in no way a conceptual artist, and i do not plan shit. the art in what i do, aside from making pretty pictures, involves a technical knowledge of my gear and of lighting. it involves not getting my gear ruined and avoiding concussions from kicks to the head courtesy of crowd surfers. usually, i have fifteen minutes to get what i need. each decision is made in the split-second. you blink and you lose the shot.

initially, working with rachel was easy. i made my concept a simple, but multi-faceted one. the song is called "potential" and, essentially, it's about a failed relationship, about the potential of said relationship. i envisioned emotional fallout and plenty of what-ifs. i decided it'd look really good in an urban setting. the imagery i sent her as inspiration was a half-frame advance cross-processed holga shot of kat sleeping. the colors were trippy, the composition disorienting. i decided to go with an urban dreamscape feel, and juxtaposed her image with some graffiti in brooklyn which, in a lot of cases, was a literal description of potential. then, in order to further the dream effect (in my case, there's a lot of fear in my dreams, which is what i was going for), i had her climbing shit, running from shit, and hanging from shit.

i worried about re-creating the trippy holga effect digitally, since i'm generally a purist: i realize that these are the days of photoshop, when everything is manipulated, but i try and keep it to a minimum. i understand that the premise of the shoot was manipulation, or the potential of a raw shot and what it could become, but i don't believe in airbrushing, and i'm being asked to make arms thinner. there's even a photo (below) where rachel is 'sleeping' on her couch. she thinks her ass is too big, so she's requested that i photoshop in a pillow. it's insane. the whole thing pushed my boundaries, but not in good ways. i compose my shots in-camera and avoid cropping at all costs. due to the uniform 11x14 print aspect ratio, i was forced to shoot a little wider than i normally would because i would have to crop later.

the thing is this: there's a line when what you're doing is no longer photography. it's a line i'm not willing to cross. i don't work in advertising and i'm not making any money off of this. in fact, i'm putting out money. but here i am being asked to put my name on imagery i find subpar in order to quell someone's insecurities.

my best friend says i'm being an "anal retentive, conviction-toting artist," but that's just it: this is challenging all of my convictions about what i do now and what i want to do in the future. i don't want to put my name on something i'm not proud of. i could look at it from a vendor/client point of view, but since there's no money involved, there's not even THAT particular incentive to sell out on my beliefs about art. i haven't had a gallery show in five years. this whole thing could be about her, but if it's the first time my name's been on anything hanging in that long, why would i display shitty art where rachel feels her arms are a little skinnier instead of the optimal image? if she was nitpicking about one thing, it would be fine, but i've sent her EIGHT mockups (mind you, my display would consist of ten images), all of which she's shot down for one reason or another. i understand that this is a collaborative effort, but the collaboration stops when you stop posing for my camera.

fuck that. i was in tears over the shit last night, and i left her with the option to take it or to leave it. i guess i'll find out today. for your perusal, here are some of the images i sent her, along with the reasons why they're not okay. mind you, they're all either raw or in very early stages of editing:


in the image of her on the left, her stomach is protruding. something needs editing on the right side too, apparently.

her ass is too big.

she just liked a different one from this set better. something that was less evocative, and where she's directly engaging the camera, which i asked her not to do.

this is her favorite from this set. again, it is not the best from the set, but i compromised. either way, her socks need to be photoshopped to be less visible.

she looks like a cartoon.