Oops

Mean to post this one, done this spring. With my friend Vada who trusts my ideas and shares her's as well. Like the peaceful nature of this one. Thanks

Ghosts

My phone is infested with ghosts, long lost loves of my life calling in the middle of the night. I recognizes her voice at hello, memories came flooding back and even in my half daze sleep I knew it was her. We talked like it was last week when last we spoke, though a decade at least has passed. I can be hard on friends... though I still love them, to think they are making a major mistake. I’d thought I’d rather remember her as she was, entrapped in amber. That not how life is lived fortunately, my friend have vivid lives, dynamic ongoing lives, that what attracted me in the first place. Lives lived on the edge, thinking life might cut short, now the reality of our age and circumstance.

Like seeing yourself reflected in a mirror, this person know me, who I am, where I live no matter the address. She knows about me, the young me, the growing up me, has experienced the low me, the almost beaten me. Know the struggle I have endured, the mistake I have made, known the passion of the young, knows the successes and my failure, she being one I’ve regretted. I didn’t support her idea of marriage, going on instincts I decided I knew better than her in matters of love. No matter how it may have turned out I was wrong, I’ve regretted my mistake ever since. As I grow older I can see where I have failed my friends... now almost too late I am trying to make amends where I can, it’s my loss where I can’t.

Like a bolt out of the blue we reconnected, found her on one of those popular website’s, and made contact. But nothing beats hearing her voice, so alive, so full of memories, I hated having to catch up, tell her all the things we now share... how I now understand the losses she suffered and know the effects of life altering changes one endures. With a much greater empathy I know what she suffered, that knowledge gave me the strength to carry on while I lay paralyze in a hospital bed.

I knew her voice at hello, the half amused warm melodious tones, the compassion and love her voice held after all these years. I am truly blessed in life, to those people who I have chosen to be my friends so many years ago... even though I didn’t keep my end of the bargain. I love you all and I am truly sorry for my mistake in judgement, I know better now. Life doesn’t often give you many chances at do overs, I’m so happy to make amends where I can. Still I remember her voice.

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

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.

Twenty One

Forty years ago tonight men landed on the moon. Forty years ago I was a twenty-one year old kid touring around the North-East briefly staying in Newport Rhode Island for the Folk Festival. It was the event of my lifetime, Joan Baez, Rambling Jack Elliot and Doug Kershaw were among the performers I saw in person. The moon landing was just part of the show as far as I was concerned, another young kid was perched atop a VW Micro Bus holding an umbrella over a B&W television broadcasting the moon-walk live. I remember like it was yesterday, in fact it was a yesterday long ago.

Milling through the crowd of other young people, making friend for as long as the show lasted, sharing cigarettes and all manner of mind altering stuff like reality. After the show I’d drove my own Micro Bus back to the campground I was staying at, really a State Park that didn’t allow overnight visitors. I’d made friends with the park caretaker over coffee one morning and he told the State Trooper I was OK and the deal was set. My only other night time companions were some other kids like me but with camping equipment. That night I returned to find some bikers having a party a few tables away from me. They had an interest in my bus and the person that was staying inside and I decided to grab the bull by the horns and went over to visit.

They got very tense as I walked up and introduced myself and told them about the State Trooper that came through to check on me and my van. I told them that they could have the party but it was way better to have it away from me down in the corner where the trooper didn’t check. They were so happy to have avoided any type of confrontation with me and to be warned of the cop that they gave me some beers and thanked me. As I got back into my van, thinking how nice they turned out to be I saw the lights from the trooper car. I had a nice quiet night enjoying my beers and the peace and quiet of the night and the night entertainment. Not the least of which was the trooper protect me.

I could tell you of the whole week I spent in Rode Island, the girl I met along the seawall or the lovely night she spent with me or the romantic predawn swim we had in the fresh ocean’s water. But I want to tell you about coffee instead, coffee is the great equalizer to the traveler. Every morning I’d get up and put a pot of coffee on to brew. People seldom bother a man waiting for his morning brew no matter how officious they are. And offering a cup of fresh brewed is the way to anyone’s heart and their companionship. Life unfold over coffee and it’s somehow wrong to tell a lie so early in the morning. And of course being a young fresh face kid on an adventure helped my cause immensely. Never once did I realize how impossibly young and naive I was that summer. I was involved in the adventure of my still young lifetime and nothing would deter me from my quest.

Project

Life is that which happens to us while we are busy planning our futures. My project is taking a lot longer than I had expected, in fact it might not ever get off the ground. The problem is the management team is floundering around from project to project letting there attention get scatter like so many leaves in the wind. The main man has a perfectly good project under wraps but lacks the vision to bring his project to fruition and that is so sad. It’s not like this is rocket science, he’s done the hardest part and that to think up the idea and build a prototype. But he lacks the vison to see his project through and has filled his life with people who also lack the vision or experience to guide him beyond their own selfish needs. So the whole project is going to fall by the wayside for lack of direction.

I wouldn’t mind so much but this is a green project that will help a lot of people in their moment of need and beyond. Emergency Housing in a new a different way that FEMA is in dire need of done in a new a different way. None of the Formaldehyde fumes and a pop-together wall structure that can be put together in different configurations quickly and can be shipped by air or rail. Now a woman involved with the project is a real go getter and really sharp, she got my attention very quickly and has potential. She has the vision and see’s the potential that the other lack but I fear she is getting discouraged by the lack of control at the top. I’d like to be part of her team if she has the gumption to put one together and take over the hard work on getting the grants, doing the governments paperwork and all the headache involved with getting a new project off the ground. As I say she has experience and I think has the drive. Certainly her background in solar work and knowledge of the working of the government give her a leg-up so we’ll see. Stay tuned as the adventure continues and see if this can be part of my new life. Only time will tell.

On the other hand I went to the Second Saturday Art festivities the other night and had a blasts. All sort of wonderful art on display with all the artist in attendance to talk up their work and give it depth. Really got my creative juices flowing to get back into the game but I don’t know if it’s really time yet. No one seems to be buying art or anything else right now and the gallery owner isn’t doing any cartwheels as of late. But it gave me a feel for the life again and maybe soon the timing will be right for a return. But it was a young crowd and I didn’t see any buyer type there only people looking to have a good time and maybe that’s what it’s all about now. Everybody is crying the blues but still people are shooting and models are working and traveling so things can’t be that bad can they now.

Birthday

Today I am officially sixty one years old and I don’t feel it. Yes I have ache and pains mostly from my stroke but I’m doing pretty well for a man my age. I must say I kinda surprised to be here, having escaped most of my follies relatively unscathed. In my youth, like all people I felt bulletproof and there weren’t many thing I didn’t try. I was really fearless or stupid, whatever you want to call it about my future. I didn’t feel the need to plan for my welfare or my health, I though I’d figure that out when I was ready. Well I’m ready now to find my way again and I have a hope for my future.

Last week I took a ride down to the sight of the new project that just fell into my lap. I was really impressed with the caliber of the people involved and with their drive and passion. They have a prototype built that has solar, wind and water build right in. Next month they plan a trip to Mexico to look at a site and make their plans to build a self-sustainable community. Very impressive in their scope and will bring a new quality of life to the local inhabitants. A totally green environment that will produce water for their crops and will recycle everything else they need. A very exciting project to be involved with. We even have on board someone to test the soil and suggest native plants that are apropos to the environment.

Of course this has tremendous commercial applications as well, they are in the process of getting the grants and funding that they need to make the technology work. That’s the point were I come into the project to document and to record there progress. I was down to photograph the prototype and the detail’s of how it was built. I shot the most important features of the construction as well as a general overview of the prototype and what features come with this particular product. Not exciting kind of shooting but eventually it should pay my bills. I’m looking for it to pay more than my bills really. I want to get back to shooting my model and creating my art. I have to find some way to sustain my art until it gets rolling and I get some regular clients. This was my plan for the future at the time I had the stroke but that event took up all the air in the room.

I was smart enough to see my age creeping up on me and at age fifty-seven I was starting to shift my work into the more artistic avenues. I could envision the time when I wouldn’t be able to keep up physically with working eight to ten hours a day at event photography. I was planning an orderly transition in life and the focus of my work. But my stroke changed my thinking overnight, I was left battling for my life instead. So many people have told me that I’m inspirational to anyone fighting my situation. Some have call my action heroic but I don’t feel that way at all. I had no choice in my fight, it was either sink or swim really. I could lay there in bed doing nothing or I could put one foot in front of another and get back the life I was used to living. The chose was stark, take it or leave it. I chose life and the pursuit of happiness. A couple of weeks ago I managed to get my testimonial recorded and in it I found a voice to speak to everyone who finds themselves in my condition. I found it important to give people hope and remind them that the doctors never know exactly what there patients are capable of overcoming in their desire to live a full and useful life again. Of course not everyone is as lucky as I am; some never recover and are left crippled for life. But that the way I feel actually, lucky. I am very lucky indeed.

Happy

I’d like to break out in a chorus of “Happy Days Are Here Again” but I’ve learned better by now. The meeting went well, better than well I’d even rate it a good. I’m cautiously optimistic, seems that I’ll at least get some work out of it that I can handle. You’ll have to understand that I can’t speak of the meeting in particular, too many pieces need to come into place yet. But I can speak of what my fears were going into it besides failure on my part. I was really afraid that I wouldn’t be able to keep up or to understand the concepts that were floating around. That I wouldn’t be able to add my opinions and feeling. But the old thrill of making a difference came back to me as never before.

I was able to visualize the project and the ideas as well as I ever could and was able to make coherent comments and suggestions. Best of all I could follow ideas as they came one after another. It was thrilling to be part of the action and the actors. It was almost better than sex with none of the perspiration and trouble. I remember back when I was forty-five and working for New York Telephone and doing the Emmy’s. I had a lot of work to organize and get accomplished in a short time. I was on the phone a lot and traveling all over New York state and to Chicago where the Emmy’s are made. One of the broadcasters I was covering was WNET, the local affiliate of PBS. I almost worked out a deal at the end of my shoot that would take me to Dallas to get one of the principals. I came that close to shooting her and getting my travel paid so I could visit home but just missed out. Better that sex

So my meeting yesterday wasn’t as climatic but it did make me feel oh so good. It’s been a long time coming to reach this point where I feel comfortable with myself. A long time getting to the point where I feel able to cope with ideas and those ideas generated my own suggestions like before. I was able to forget about me and lose myself in the work and planning. I was excited by the nature of the project, the idea that it’s green technology at it’s finest and will add quality of life for a number of people. I’m ready to get started and lend my skills to this nascent project and see it grow into something I can be proud of. I haven’t lost sight of the commercial possibilities of the project either, I stand to make some good money as well. But the saying is “Catch the wave” and I meant to catch it and get a good ride out of it for as long as I can.