The Eyes Have It

I know I said no more comment about health or my stroke anymore, but I’ve had a scare. About a month and a half ago I was working on a friends lawn, fool that I am I didn’t wear eye protection because the dust mask fogged my glasses. She has a very sandy lot, the dust is something fierce. A small piece of wood flew up and hit my eye, didn’t think much of it and keep going. Then the mower died and I was much more concerned about that. Later that evening I noticed a soft blur to my right eye, I figured no big deal it’ll go away by morning. Still had the blur in the morning, had things to do and I used some drop and didn’t give it a second though.

A week later I decided that it hadn’t gotten better so I made an appointment with my eye doctor which I figured was about right for my eye, probably scratched the damn thing, no big deal. Now we’re about two, three week from the injury, I noticed that I had trouble getting the eye working in the morning. I saw a haze in my right eye, hard to open the eye as well first thing upon waking. Now I’m worried, think this is a bigger deal than just a scratched eye. I go to the doctor, wait while she does her thing, puts drops in my eyes and does some test that I didn’t think I did that well. She told me I did the right thing in seeing her, that she noticed something going on in my eye.... she has my attention now. I wait... and wait, while she goes through my chart and updates it...... I wait. Finally she turns and says when she looks into my right eye she can see small hemorrhages against the retina. Says I need to see a specialist very soon, not today but the sooner the better; say’s she’ll make an appointment.

Like most men I calculate the odds as her nurse calls to make my appointment. A month out, no big deal... I should get carrots the next time I’m at the market. She copy’s the information for me, I’m concerned but not worried... I can handle this. Getting home I call the friend with the offending yard, tell her about my appointment, she asks me why so long? Now my concern goes up a couple of notches, she tells me that if it was her eyesight she’d want to be seen as soon as possible. She has a really good point! I call the specialist, they can get me in a week early, I take it. It takes me a few days to realize that in addition to the hard to open, haze around the eye when I first wake, now I see a spider-web in my right eye. Very gossamer but black, darts away when I try to focus on it. It does not go away as I wake up and get moving. I turn to Google and find that it is a sign of a detached retina along with a bright flash of light which I don’t have. Panicked I call the specialist to hurry the appointment, hell I want to get in right away. No dice, the doctor doesn’t come in until Tuesday at the earliest so I have the weekend to go.

Now I don’t know about you, but when one thing goes wrong everything seems to follow. On Friday I break my glasses. Now I am truly fucked... I have blurry vision, see spider-webs in black, I have a new word processing program that I need to learn ASAP and on top of all that I now have to find out about my glasses. To make a long story short I don’t have to new glasses, they can order the frames. I got an emergency appointment with an eye doctor, when they put the drops in to dilate my eyes the cobwebs go away and I’m told by the doctor that tortured me that I am a very lucky man. Plus my frame came in the next day... I feel blessed. Still have to go see the retinal specialist on Tuesday but I go in feeling very lucky and very blessed. Wonders never cease!

Women

I’ve always had a special love of pretty women. As far back as the fifth grade, I discovered that women, no matter their age could affect me and my judgement. I got to be a school crossing guard that year, had a badge and everything. One morning while helping the other kids cross the street safely a girl I knew from the library came up to cross. I was smitten with her, the way she walked, the way she talked and she was standing there next to me Well you could smell the brain cells frying, we were talking, I heard the mamma guard whistle and I step into the street to let the little girl cross. All should have been well, I mean she talked to me, but she was in the middle of the street crossing against the what little traffic there was when I figured out what happened. Or there was the time I was chosen first base umpire also in the fifth grade. My friend had slid into first base just ahead of the ball and I called him safe as the pretty young teacher, who was head umpire called him out. She came trotting out to confer with me, as I looked into her pretty face I knew I was doing wrong, but I just couldn’t contradict her... out he was Oh it wasn’t a pretty sight to be inside my head as I grew into adolescence and the view didn’t improve as I grew older.

As a young man I could be an asshole to those I loved, I won’t pretend different. I could be difficult, opinionated and wanted my way most of the times, but I could be charming and sweet as well. I tried to live the life I’d be taught by my parents to live and they ended up divorced. Monogamy wasn’t my thing though I tried my best, I guess the grass was always greener on the other side. Finally I grew up enough to realize I could love someone in small doses, but she had to be strong enough to have her own life that was important enough to her. The best sort of relationship was to live close together, see each other most evenings, but have our own places too. When it seemed like a good idea I could be monogamous, but only if my partner was also. I was prone to long term relationships, of doing all those couple things, but having the space to do mine.

Now what you ask does this have to do with photography, not much. But I am approaching my sixty-third birthday in a few weeks and this is what you get. I’m reminiscing over my pasts as I look to the future. I’ve reach the point where I’m like a dog chasing a bus, what will I ever do if I manage to catch the damn thing. But I still have a little chase left in me and a deep appreciation for the beauty of women. Like the bus it’s not about catching it, it’s all about enjoying the chase after it

Tax Day

“ The camera just helps you show other people what you see.” Greg Iles in Dead Sleep






The best tax day ever, a lovely nude model, great conversation and a home made meal to end on. Then because I shoot film I had a week of waiting, hoping the film wasn’t too out of date, that the processing would be right. Nothing short of birth could be as difficult as waiting to get that film back in my hot little hands. Now for the time I live for, the time to let my work sink in... to study every little frame and find the treasures. I can breath again The time before digital wasn’t easy, terror was a day in day out part of the job. Certainly there was polaroid to ease that terror, but until that film came back from the lab you were on tender hooks. Once you could see the contacts, once you could actually see the film to know it was alright life just wasn’t the same. Film came in different flavors too, grain you had to plan for and it was on every frame. There was a certain level of skill involved, you couldn’t “fix” that in Photoshop.

I hadn’t picked up a camera in over a year and I was plenty rusty. I hate to admit it but I had trouble know exactly how my cameras worked, which button to push in what order to get the damn thing to rewind. Then there was the lovely young woman semi-nude or nude before me waiting. Honesty is the best policy, I told her a story about the first time I shot a model. She was one of the cool girls in high-school, very blonde, very pretty and impossible beyond me. I got so nervous I almost dropped the screw in lens I had in my hand. I told her how I was thinking, considering the best lens to use with her. The model I had before me laughed, I shared a secret that somehow made us both human with all the failing of humans, made what we were trying to accomplish more real. We could relate to one another, trust one another. Made the fact that one of us was nude so much more comfortable in mind and sprit.







I love working with nude models, of getting those arms and legs just so, the get the look I want with the feel I want, to be able to share with the viewer how I
see this person before me... what I have discovered in her. I ask a lot of my model’s, I ask for there trust to get the image I see in my mind. I ask for the latitude
to try something so very personal to see how it might look, how an idea I have might translate to film. It’s a bond we share... it’s a trust that she is allowing me and my vision. All of my models are lovely young women, my age give me a different perspective on age. My most recent models are in the thirties, a few years ago the average age was early twenties. I like this age, more mature, more comfortable in their skin and they know something about life.

Then after we share a meal together, something I’ve made especially for her, time to decompress, to get back to the every day world. This young lady and I have shared something special, we’ve shared a vision... ideas that we both bring to the shoot. Is it something to change the world... probably not, but just the act of creating something that didn’t exist before feels so good.

Model: Vada

Vision

I recently posted a comment on Model Mayhem about the above image, as expected I got some really nasty comments including one accusing me of having misogynistic tendency. Saying I had real problems with the female anatomy she added she was sorry for me. My comments were to the effect that I didn’t want a women who was too sensuously built, it would detracted from my vision. I maintain those views, all the focus would have been the way she was physically build. The image was for an erotic show I was in, my statement was, among other things that here was the ultimate goal of all the erotic art. I wanted a female who was almost androgynous, someone who had that compact look to her, here fleshy wouldn’t work.

Which leads me to another one of my questions, why can’t we keep a civil tone to out discussions, especially on a site that’s given over to the celebration of art. I obviously chose the wrong forum for my comments, giving people more credit for intelligence than they deserve. The site does have some of the very talented models though, but in retrospect not as many as one would hope. I also commented on how everyone it seemed shaved, that to look wasn’t special anymore, it has lost its appeal. I noted that more and more models seem to agree with me because they have gone back to a more trimmed mode. Well I’ll let you imagine how that comment was taken

I myself have taken great umbrage at comments on profession of drywall made on a fellow blogger site. As I posted, I have hung my share of drywall, it’s a great way to keep food on the table and a roof over ones head. Then I reread the comments that had raised my ire and discovered that the kid was only in his early twenty’s so excuses could be made for him. But I didn’t demean him, I took exception to his comments but not to the person who made them. I know that there are those who will see this as a backhand slap at him, but age does play an important part of our perception.

Maybe I’m just getting old and set in my ways... that could be. In my own defense the older I get the more other people get set in their ways (tongue firmly in cheek). I’m proud to say I have a number of young friend who help keep me in my place and fixed in time. It helps keeps you balance in life, keeps you from feeling left out and jealous about that age... reminds you why its good to be the age you are and not having that drama in your life again. Although I keep making the same mistake over and over again, but I find new ways to make the same mistakes. That is at least some kind of progress I imagine, proof positive that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks

Crazies

Pro-English, A.C.L.J., Troops Needed on the Boarder and The Heritage Foundation... all the crazies are sending me mailing like I once got credit card application. At least with the application the was a don’t bother me page I could register on. And each of them have their own focused hatred for some special group of people, the most popular seems to be Muslims. Each group of crazies seem to have a 501-c, mailing privileges so they don’t pay squat to spew their hatred. I dutifully open each piece of shit they send, put all that shit back in their envelopes and mail it to them “postage due”.... makes me feel better at least.

Before my doctor moved her offices it was located at a medical center along with the hospital. Lots of East Indian’s work there, some wore head-scarves, some may have been Muslim as well. I didn’t know or care because I was getting the test I needed. As an added bonus I could ask where the best Eastern food was, where is the place they like to eat. I got all sorts of tips most of which I never heard of before, the India places were the best. When it comes to eating were are all one race... the human race

So imagine my utter surprise when one morning while having coffee a group of people sat down next to me, a couple of whom had head-scarves. Without even thinking about it I started checking them out looking for suspicions packages they might leave behind. Only then did I recognize the absurdity of my reactions and started laughing. These were healthcare professionals, maybe some were doctors and a few were obliviously students not bombers for heaven sake It’s a sign of the time we live in, the fear that’s generated by the media that conditions us all to think that way.

Which bring to mind Juan Williams, of his remarks that got him fired from NPR. I certainly don’t agree with the racist sentiments that regularly pass for news at FOX NEWS. But as you can see by my story above we all can make mistake in judgement. My momentary fear, my momentary lapse of judgement was a private affair, his wasn’t. So that’s the prism we all look at the world today, Muslim equals terrorist, plain and simple.... simply wrong. I feel like we target Muslims because we have been conditioned to react that way by the media. The fact that they’re so easily identified make our suspicions of them so much easier.
When Timothy Mc Veigh murdered all those people in Oklahoma we didn’t start dragging young white men with short hair off planes, we didn’t have an instinctive fear of sitting next to them at coffee shops , not cast so much as a glance in their direction. I think that we fail as human beings, we do a disservice to the whole human race by giving in to these fears. Unknowingly, without thinking about them, without questioning where our fears really reside. No one likes to think about being blown up in a building, having a plane crash into where you are innocently working. These are the acts of two or three madmen who hate the system, who hate humanity and not a whole class of people. Personally I feel that these for the most part are poor, uneducated people with no hope of a better future, no hope of a brighter tomorrow. It’s long past time that we got a handle on this idea and start working on the problems we all face.

Keep In Touch

I am the most fortunate of men, I don’t collect “friends”, but I’m really blessed that most of my models keep me in mind when their address changes. One young model, she was twenty when we shot, took great umbrage at some advice I was giving her. She no longer keeps in touch, much to her determent; if I have no way of keeping in touch I can’t let you know how the images we created are being used. I’m religious about letting my model’s know when I use an image on my blog, on various sites and for any shows I enter. My feeling is we created this work together, you are an integral part of what we did, you are entitled to know (even years later) how and where your images are being displayed.
Any advice is freely given, I’m not offended if you don’t take it to heart don’t listen it’s your life not mine, my world will not stop. I really enjoy the women who pose for me, who take the time and interest to make images with me. Some work much better with my overall vison, it seems like second nature to them. I take my time to get an idea of who this person is that I am going to photograph. Usually we have coffee, I show them my book so there are no surprises when we work. An important part of the way I work is to get to know something about them, how else can I capture the essence of that person. So many of the girls that I work with are young, twenty-something. Most still think they work/live in a vacuum, that no one will look up there photos or get an opinion of their character from the images they lend themselves to.
I on the other hand have lived a goodly long time, I no longer think I’m invincible, I know that actions beget reaction no matter how private you may think those actions are. We don’t live in a bubble of our own choosing, the internet has forced us to live a very public life. I’m very conscious of the images I am posting, I want for my model's to be able to make that choice as well even though I have a release. When I am posting to Facebook I know what’s appropriate as far as they are concerned. I have learned the hard way that for my model appropriate for one venue isn’t appropriate for them. I do not wish to embarrass them in front of their family or friends.
This blog is different, here I may show the kind of work that I do unedited, but it’s not likely that any members of my models family will see the posts. Here it’s a more private setting, my friend come here to view my work and to read what I have to say. Just as you have come here to see my work and read my words/thoughts as well. Nothing gives me more pleasure then to have someone comment on my blog, or for it to spur other thought. I love that free flow of ideas and comment that are well thought out. So please keep visiting my site and by all means, keep in touch.

The Littlle Deaths

My thanks to my friend Carla Johnson for her post on “La Petite Mort”, the Little Deaths as an orgasm is known is a subject long though to not be mentioned in polite company. I leave the final word to my friend, I want to talk about my photographic experience with the orgasm as seen above. I met this young lady at a modeling show I attended. She was very green and needed someone to invest the time with her and show her the ropes. Long story short we did at least six or seven shoots before she was comfortable enough with herself and me before we could shoot so intimately. When we started she was very nervous about what would happen. I took her through her first mini-orgasm, then she got more relaxed, I could see the tension go out of her body. Remember I shoot film and still had a third of a roll left when she told me to get ready. Whoa, whoa I told her to change your rhythm, let me finish this roll and then you can come. At this point I felt like I was a part of her orgasm, I was asking her to draw it out so I could get the shots I wanted. I’m not going to say I hurried, but I knew she was ready to get some release. I ask her to get comfortable, to change position slightly and to feel it building. Then I reloaded my camera, I said OK kiddo go for it. I could almost hear her thinking I wonder what he’s getting, then the pre-orgasm started and she was gone. I got close ups of her face, her body, all the important parts. I dragged the shutter, I was trying to get the beauty of the moment, but without the graphic details. I want to make it clear that she is a nice girl, not someone who masturbates for just anyone. After her release I got some nice shots of her coming down from the high of it. For minutes after that she’d shudder, those post-orgasm shudders. In a strange way I think that she was please that she’d be able to climax, so too there was a certain pleasure in getting off with someone watching. I’m really proud of the shots I got and the trust that grew out of that experience. I’ve marveled at the capacity that women have for wave after wave of pleasure and the small role I may play.

Several years ago I had a gig for an entertainment facility, had a pass that would let me go anywhere, anytime. I’d do the mundane shots of different parts of the facility, party’s they had. Sometimes they’d overlap so I’d do a heavy metal group. These groups actually filled the hall better than the more middle of the road types. So I just play, drag the shutter, play with my flash to ambient light ratio. It was so much fun to see what magic I could produce. Shot real film so I couldn’t see the results instantly.

Nipple

Like shadow they gather..., grackles on the wing searching, searching..., the wings flutter down. Gathering in flocks, your negative thoughts. Squawking, noisily hostile thoughts that have no real merit, no basis in fact. Your fear stand out like two cold nipples on a warm day, longingly wishing to be touch.




14 Jan 2011

Fifth Anniversary

Those of you who currently read this blog, and I’m familiar with one lovely lady out there, will know I just celebrated my fifth anniversary of my stroke. This year I won’t be writing as much about that choosing to concentrate on my art, and my writing. Like many of you last year was the worst I’ve experienced in my life-time. I don’t think I opened my camera bag once last year, sure I took some cell phone photo’s, but nothing to really satisfy my soul. In addition I closed down what business was left and for the first time in many years I filed a normal tax return. At the time it was a most painful step, logical to say the least but still....

I started working with a friend I’ve had for a long time, first started work with him in New York many years ago. We developed quite the friendship, I was invited to his house, met his wife and children, and came for all the holidays plus backyard barbeques. Long story short, he and his wife have divorced and he moved back to the Northeast. A lot of my planning involved my computer work, learning new things and just playing with the latest innovations. Another part of the equations was to find a friend who had moved on to a new business and needed a hand. Although divorce wasn’t a part of my master plan, it sure played an important part of this plan.

After he was moved out of the house he found himself broke, but with an advertising idea that looked like it could work. He had a number of high profile contacts so all that was needed was some legwork, research, and someone he could trust to share in the business. Someone who had the time to invest, had the desire to make a go of it, and who didn’t really care about the money at first. We started with one client, I took the editorial we had and made some small adjustments to it, I’d find the talent’s website’s and would make their bio information fit our needs. I proofed read everything, and I even had a hand in keeping the people who were working on the project with us stay focused.

We picked up our second account and then our third; tiny steps to be sure, but all the while we could see the economy slowly improving. So my financial health is improving, I’m making almost enough money that soon I’ll be able to shoot again. In the meantime I’m working on prints of my work. I’ve started refining a new book that features only the work I’m interested in, the kind of images I want to shoot so I can show models which direction I’m headed in and if they would like to invest their time and talent perfect. Don’t know how far I’ll get this year, baby- steps on the road to a full recovery. Along the way I’ve picked up several friend who believe as I do, who are interested in sharing the passage with me, who help fire my ideas and beliefs. Some young people who have such a zest for their art that it’s contagious. Maybe that’s all we need in life, to make it more fulfilling, sharing the spice that makes life worth living, that brings out our passions, so that we remember what it was once like to be young. This year I plan on writing about that transition, getting fire up again, and getting my butt in gear. I want to wish all you readers a wonderful new year full of the spice for life.