Sigh

Some mornings are better than others. Some mornings, I wake up and think that I'll kick some kind of ass today. Other mornings, I wake up and immediately find an article about an 18-year-old commercial photographer who is flying around the world on a monthly basis. And it's just depressing.

Sigh.

Anyway.

This is over in Irondale -- just testing the camera before an assignment. The shutter release on the battery extension only works erratically as of late.

Hey, it was there

It's outside the Irondale City Hall and I was there, waiting for somebody. Wheeeee.

The King

No, not Elvis. King cotton. From a couple weeks ago.

Warning: Nostalgia to follow

The last time I saw her, we spent an afternoon at the park. She was joining up with the Navy and her recruiter told her two things: chew gum, and start running. So we ran and walked, and chewed gum, and talked. We went to high school together, hung out, but I can't remember if she's two years younger than me, or three, or what. Don't ask why or how it came to it, but I threatened to throw her shoes over the baseball fence, to which she responded, "go ahead, I'm Mexican; we're good at climbing fences." A couple minutes later, as we walked around the park, she giggled, ran over to a drainage ditch and jumped it. I looked at her sideways and raised an eyebrow. "We're good at crossing rivers, too."

Whenever the word 'Mexican' comes up in a conversation (or on the radio, or television, or in print), some little part of my mind snaps straight to her. Some sizeable part of my heart goes there, too. I try to not regret the things I've done and try to not do things that I might regret, but I can't help it with her. I regret losing touch with her. I regret not being closer to her. I regret a lot of things when it comes to her.

We brought in a Colombian woman for portraits this morning for an upcoming article, and there was just something about her that threw me. I can't help thinking about her right now, and thinking about her means feeling that slow ache of regret. I wish I had a picture of her somewhere, and I might, but it'll be on film, which means it's somewhere at my parents' place. Mrs Pomare, I believe, is what she'll look like in ten years or so.

Janet, I miss you.

Just splitting the goodies

None of these will run, but I thought I might post 'em here just so I can say I'm keeping up with my blogs. From the St. Aloysius School's All Saints Day celebration this morning."Yo, how's my halo look? Straight? Cool.""And I was all, 'yo, that Saint Nicholas guy ain't nothing but--' ... crap, he's right behind me, isn't he?"
Can't even go to church these days without somebody sticking a wide angle lense in your face.
Saint Nick's plottin' to nick the priest's communion goblet. Or planning world domination. Either way, kiddo, count me in.

Ahh, good times with the Catholics. Almost as good as that time I put Alka-seltzer under my fingernails and dipped 'em in the holy water. Those guys had no sense of humor.

"Pretend like I'm not here"

That's what I say to kids when I have an assignment around them: "pretend like I'm not here, okay?" Because I don't really want them to look at me, or give me a big smile, or throw up some kind of gang sign ... yeah, that's happened before, damn near killed myself laughing so hard ... And then there are the people who aren't really looking at you, which might run ...

Just a little tidbit

I'll be posting (hopefully) an embedded Soundslides later with more photos later. Unfortunately, I don't have any audio to go with it -- my recorder was dead, and the three closest convenience stores to the gin didn't have any AAA batteries.

Heeeey ...

... hmm, just tossing this up there, but don't I know somebody who went to Marist ...?

Check my other blog (later, they're not up yet and won't be up till much later) for more photos from the Great American Cross Country Festival, yeehaw.

Stolen quiz

Wanted to waste some time this evening, so here's a quiz I stole off a friend's old blog.

ARTIST: Bruce Springsteen

Pick one band/singer/songwriter and use only their song titles to answer the questions as accurately as possible. I tried to avoid any repeats.

Male or Female?
Walk Like A Man

When were you born?
Born in the USA

Describe yourself:
Lost in the Flood

How do you think people feel about you?
Further on Up the Road

Describe where you want to be:
Jungleland

Describe what you want to be:
Lucky Man

Describe what you are now:
Missing

Describe how you live:
Waitin’ on a Sunny Day

Describe how you love:
Seven Angels

Describe your best friend:
My Best Was Never Good Enough

Describe your job:
Blinded by the Light

How has life treated you so far?
Reason to Believe

Describe your family:
Land of Hopes and Dreams

Describe where you see yourself in the future:
Badlands

What would you like to have?
Human Touch

Describe your ex boyfriend / girlfriend:
So Young and In Love

Describe how you feel at the moment:
Trapped

Describe your current location:
Streets of Fire

Describe where you'd rather be:
Back in Your Arms

Your favorite color is:
Silver Palomino

You know:
My Love Will Never Let You Down

What’s the weather like?
Darkness at the Edge of Town

If your life was a television show, what would it be called?
Lonesome Day

What is life to you?
Brilliant Disguise

What is the best advice you have to give?
No Surrender

If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
The Ghost of Tom Joad

Spur'o'el'momento words

I get a dry taste in my mouth
when we talk on the phone
and there's a hollow behind my
eyes when I think about you.
It's sappy bullshit you don't want
to hear, but you were a home
for some part of me that's moving
around the heartlands.
Roaming is lonely, especially in
the ether of romance, so excuse
me if part of me doesn't vibe
right at night when we talk.
It's hard to watch a home
with new owners, when your
memories are still somewhere
in the attic.

Missed opportunity

So I had run of these old but nice lights and umbrellas for a couple days this weekend, and didn't have a willing soul to use them on. Which saddened me. So, my last night away from Birmingham, I used them ... on myself. I apologize for the following self-portraits -- it's mostly just playing with lighting set-ups. Anyway ...

Kinda like this one, aside from my usual goofy face, and that there's an umbrella peeking over my shoulder. And I smelled bad -- needed a shower. So I took one, then continued ...
Did a little bit of PSing with this one -- removed the horns, the tail, et al -- ... really wish I had a back drop ...
Grr. Arrgh. Iz srs.

Yeah, still a little off schedule. Talking. Going to bed.

And some more portraits

From a project I did back in May. Mostly.

Love 'em -- they're all so patient with me.

Old party photos

From back in yon day.

... the good ole days, when life was ... well, good.

Not that isn't right now. Just not the same good.

Old Portraits

Just some old portraits changed a little. Originals at the smaller ones.


So, A ... or B?

Foolin'

Just fooling around tonight, not really doing anything purpose.

W.I.P

This is something I've been playing with for the day. I'm definitely not finished -- gotta do the background, more effects on the girl, gotta change some of the lighting ... thinking about finding a different background, too. It started in my head as something else. Anyway, tired, women are crazy/lovely, and things are as things are.



... seriously, women = crazy, but also women = excellent. There's no damned way to win with them. Rant, rant, rant ...

Sigh...

Not my best night ever. I need more work on flash.

Sigh.

Anyway, something from three years ago.

Afraid of the Dark

Who am I?
Who the hell knows.
I don’t stand
in the light of labels
which fall and curl
like leaves in the fall,
when those “enlightened”
feel inclined to
fit me in their
design for life
like a purpose-built
part, no worries if it
breaks down,
we’ll just order
another up.
I see those
disparaging looks
from well-lit nooks
toward these few,
proud, old and new,
loud, soft, something’s
a little skewed with
these, those, us
that walk the
shadowed expanse where
the “enlightened” ones won’t
dance. But those and we that
walk the abyss
know life, know death,
know the kiss
that makes life livable
for those tight-lipped
ones in the light,
who can’t, ‘cause their
ethics, morality, mechanics,
keep them from
preaching truth from perception,
can’t shout about
life, liberty, and the hunt
for a dream.
Scared, meek, mild, wild,
it’s a generation
generating nothing but the
same damn people;
like masturbation,
we’re just screwing ourselves.
I’ve never met
a future Churchill
since being a bulldog
ain’t no thrill, but
too many Paris’s, Pitts,
Simpsons and gridiron stars,
“thugs” driving speed-bump
scraping cars,
people like scars
on the skin of
this society, skin
so thin you
can see straight through
and tell it ain’t so
deep; them I see
and they see me
and they’re scared
because I’m invisible
here in the dark.
Me and free, right here,
colorblind and politically
incorrect, perfectly uncool
rules that ain’t so rigid.
Love white, black, brown
and everything I left out.
That kiss in the dark
don’t determine by
color, creed, or clairvoyant divinity
but the “enlightened” types
shake fingers, tell me
I’m wrong for this reason,
that reason, any reason, just
don’t rock the boat.
I don’t need
diffused, reflected,
confused, rejected
light, it’s wrong.
And besides
I ain’t afraid of the dark.

Verbal meandering Numero Uno

Untitled (hey what'd you expect?)

I wonder if somebody’s watching me
As I sit with a wine-flushed face
In boxers too tight around the thighs
Watching my blank computer screen
On my table that doesn’t fit my apartment.
I wonder if they’ve been stealing
Some of my wine as too much
Is gone for a single night’s glass,
Or maybe it was just me
And I’ve lost the notion of moderation.
I wonder if they’ve been watching me
Watching the stylus and pad
And the blank slate on the screen
That refuses to be trampled over
And prefers its perfect white.
I want to know if anybody’s watching
When I finally take off the boxers
And resign myself to another night
Of long howling music and a cold bed
After a warm shower and a cold walk
Across a cold hard floor.

And why won’t they say hello?

Map finished for now

Probably some things I should redo -- coloration, I wouldn't mind adding some more aging and damage to the edges -- but this is it for the time being. I'm more interested in getting onto the cities and cityscapes and what not.
Been having my glass of wine at night, by the way -- Red Guitar, so I think about Miss K every time I tilt it back. Cheers!

Fantasy map guides

Not really a guide so much as it is more history of some little world in the back of my mind. See, there's this band of nomadic merchants and ... oh, never mind, maybe later. Here's the guide to the cities and their markers. Which will appear on the next version of the map. Took me about an hour with the textures and what not -- whaddaya think?


Oh, and forgive the while border. I was thinking about adding some aging and damage to the sides, but couldn't find the inspiration.

The map that started this whole thing

The map that was the reason for my starting this blog. As requested by Miss K ...

It doesn't have name yet, though it has cities (just not on the map yet -- gimme time, I made it two days ago ...) so if you've got a suggestion, lemme hear it.

Oldie but a favorite

One of my favorite photos to play with, especially over a glass of wine and a quick dinner ...



Monotoned, little high on the contrast (obviously), some noise, some blur, and some digital cross-processing.

Good Doggie

Some chain stock photography (behind the word "dog"): Björgvin Guðmundsson, at StockVault.net. Everything else is mine.