Monday, December 31, 2007

"Take Me To The Station...

...And put me on a train
I've got no expectations
To pass through here again

Once I was a rich man and
Now I am so poor
But never in my sweet short life
Have I felt like this before

You heart is like a diamond
You throw your pearls at swine
And as I watch you leaving me
You pack my peace of mind

Our love was like the water
That splashes on a stone
Our love is like our music
It's here, and then its gone

So take me to the airport
And put me on a plane
I got no expectations
To pass through here again."

The lyrics to an old Rolling Stones song...

The photo is of Meagan from not so long ago.

Happy Fucking New Year, bitches.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

"A Slow Roulette, a Sweet Duet...

...I can't forget, I'm tryin'.

Feel the powder burn, tonite, tonite.
There'll be nowhere to turn, it's alright, alright.
And I burn, and I want that feeling again.

I hear somebody calling, and now the fire's in the ceiling.
There's no way to stop it now..."

A line from an old Twilight Singers song...

The photo is of Meagan from not so long ago.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

"You Like To Dance To The Rolling Head of the Adultress...

...You Sing In Praise Of Suicide.
We Know You’re Useless,
Like Cops At The Scene Of The Crime."

A line from an old Jeff Buckley song...

Poor Jeff. Poor us.

The photo is of Lisa and Lars from a long time ago.

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Merry Merry, Quite Contrary

"It's was sure fine to see you
Delicious and thank you for coming
There is nowhere to go but up
You know that, for I tell you

All of our friends are thinking about us
The cup is running over
I am hypnotizing the highway
I am baptizing mad rivers

And the rivers run wild
And the highway is long
It was so good to see you
You know that, for I tell you"

The lyrics are from an old Guided By Voices song...that I have been listening to all day long driving around the city of my past while considering my future.

The photo is of Masha.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

"Well, I'm feeling nervous...

"...Now I find myself alone
The simple life's no longer there
Once I was so sure
Now the doubt inside my mind
Comes and goes, but leads nowhere."

A line from an old Japan song...

The photo is of Reby from a long time ago.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007


Or maybe not
It all depends
Your ideal, your image
Your definition of a friend
If what you're shoveling is company
Then i'd rather be alone
Resentment always goes much further than it was supposed to go"

A line from yet, another old Afghan Whigs song...

The photo is of Renee from a long time ago.

Monday, December 17, 2007

"Flare Flakes a Flower...

A burnt-out shower
No one can see
You were needing
Too shy for asking
So I will leave it
Outside your door
Pulse stalls
Uncut but clotted
When you had thought it
Would force a flow
Some lights were shining
Not much for seeing
But you believe in
The way you came"

A line from an old Fugazi song...

The photo is of Sheena.

"Were Not Gonna Prove Nothing Nothing...

Sittin' around watching each other starve
What we need is action/strategy
I want, I want, I want
I want it now!"

A line from an old Bikini Kill song...

The photo is of Masha.

Saturday, December 15, 2007

In Trying To be Free...

Of all this damage in my eyes
Making confusion in my mind
When I hear a resurrection song."

A line from an old Mark Lanegan song...

The photo is of Masha.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Monday, December 10, 2007

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Monday, December 03, 2007

Bear With Me

I'll be back soon...

Isabella once again.

Friday, November 30, 2007

If You Could Take Something With You, It Would be Bright

A ship comes in every day...

"When Your Number Isn't Up"
(Mark Lanegan)]

"Did you call for the night porter?
You smell the blood running warm.
I stay close to this frozen border, so close I can hit it with a stone.
Now something crawls right up my spine,
That I always got to follow.
Turn out the lights.
Don't see me drawn and hollow.
Just blood running warm.
No one needs to tell you that,
There's no use for ya here anymore.
And where are your friends?
They've gone away.
It's a different world, they left you to this.
To janitor
The emptiness.
So let's get it on.
When the sun is finally going down, and you're overdue to follow.
But you're still above the ground,
What ya got comin' is hard to swallow.
Like blood running warm.
Did they call for the night porter?
And smell the blood, blood running warm.
Well I've been waitin at this frozen border, so close you could hit it with a stone."

And just for the fuck of it, here's a photo I took of Vittoria last December. Because, I know that's the only reason you're here...



"Puppeteer Chromosphere"

"Show your women you can be a champ get large and last sightseeing bide servile."

Spam I got tonight.

Why do they even bother? It's surrealistic at best.

Don't click on the link 'cause they're just gonna take your vain-ass money to make your dick (not) bigger.

I'm hatin'.

Self-portrait with Erin.

Not hatin' her.


Wednesday, November 28, 2007


I don't feel good.

Here's Mosh.

From Sunday.

And she ain't even naked.


Friday, November 23, 2007

Happy Black Friday

This photo of Darenzia hopes you spent a lot of money all over the place today for absolutely no reason at all except for a completely manufactured and false one, you fucking sheep.

There. I said it.

I'm sure that Darenzia the person would agree with me.

I went to see the Richard Prince show at the Guggenheim, but that's ART, bitches!

Then I bought two pairs of shoes, 'cause, well, it was buy one and get another for 1/2 off.

Oh, shut the fuck up.

Happy Black Friday.

Anything but.


Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Just Yesterday - July, 1975

My sister gave me this cut out ad recently. She found it at our parents' house when she was going through her childhood things. She cut it out 32 years ago. She was 8 years old.

Time flies.

I know it's a cliché, but it seems like the older I get the faster the world goes around the sun, with enough speed incrementally to pretty soon throw us all into space, like that State Fair spinning ride at the end of "Strangers on a Train." Wiser and more experienced, yes, but the longer I go, the more profoundly sad and melancholy it all seems.

This life.

I moved to Brooklyn from Little Italy a few weeks ago, it seems - although it was four years this past month. Four years.

Here's what this tiny little piece of yellowed newsprint brings back to me:

At the ripe old age of 11, I asked my Mother if I could go see "Jaws" when it opened all over the country on the weekend of July 4th, 1975. She said no. I flipped out. I already knew that I wanted to be a filmmaker (or photographer) and this was just not acceptable. I was not about to miss out on a cultural milestone. So off my sister and I went to stay with my Grandparents for a week and my cousin Johnny decided to take us out for a movie and pizza. He asked what we wanted to see...and you KNOW what I said.

Seeing "Jaws" in a packed theatre on July 4th was significant to me. It also scared the shit out of me and I had kicking feet nightmares for weeks.

And of course, when I returned back home to all my 11 year old friends, I was a hero. And I was really in trouble with my Mother...

So one by one I rounded up my friends and took them to see "Jaws" at the Village Twin, since I was already "tainted." First Toby, then Chris - all in all, I saw it three times on its first theatrical run.

Flash forward ten years and I found myself the Assistant Manager of the Village Twin during my sophomore year of college. I even remember the freaking phone number! It all came to an end when my projectionist spliced the reels of John Boorman's "Emerald Forest" together backwards and upside-down on opening night and we lost two sold-out screenings of revenue. I was "dismissed" but went to work at South Hills Twin with my pal Todd ironically for the very same (and very out of business) Fuqua Company.

All those theaters are long gone. South Hills was a Gold's Gym at some point I think.

And all I have are the memories and this little piece of proof.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

In a Funk

So here's some more Isabella.

Monday, November 19, 2007

1/3 All About the Light

1/3 all about the model.
1/3 all about me.

No, wait...

60% me, including the light.
40% the model.

No, wait...

100% the light.


There IS some combination but it is relative, random and most of all, organic.

There is no recipe to make a picture. To steal a soul. To make art.

Thank fucking god.


Friday, November 16, 2007

So Sick and Tired of All These Pictures of Me

Elliott Smith wrote that in his song "Pictures of Me" from his first masterpiece, "Either/Or." Is it about the Academy Awards appearance? Don't know. Is it about heroin? Probably. EITHER way OR whatever - it's a great song with a great little guitar solo.

I used to see Elliott in the East Village fairly regularly. One Saturday I saw him twice in the same day and we both looked at each other like "what the fuck?" I was once at a "Bastards of Soul" show at the long-gone and incredibly missed Tramps, when my nose was so suddenly overcome by human funk that I literally had to step to the right by three or four people. Elliott had walked up beside me to watch the show.

My friend Greg's band used to play with Elliott's first band, Heatmiser, and knew him pretty well. It was Greg who gave me this album, saying "I think you'll dig this" when he came up once and we drank an entire bottle of smuggled in Absinthe - the real stuff, not that froofy NOT absinthe stuff that the cruds are selling now. Wormwood and Elliott Smith late on a Saturday night. The last time I saw him was at Irving Plaza on the "XO" (his second masterpiece) tour. It was awful. The size of the room was literally smothering him. He didn’t know what to do with the size of the crowd and just tried as best he could to get through it. I felt sorry for him, but hey...

A little while later, someone played me a copy of "Figure 8" and I couldn't stand it. It sounded to me like what that show had been for him. Too much. I still have yet to hear it a second time.

Then suddenly, he was dead. "Self-inflicted stab wound." Think about what it would take to do that to yourself without the proper Ninja training. Really. Think about it. The Portland police said "case closed."

Someone killed Elliott Smith. Popular thought is that it was a dealer.

It's sad that he didn't rate highly enough as a human being - forget his genius - that the cops didn't see fit to think twice about it.

If Elliott couldn't get a second thought, where does that leave me?

This is my friend Emilie who I shot in Portland in 2005. As far as I know, she's still around. For Portland detictive work's sake, let's hope so...


"Start stop and start
Stupid acting smart
Flirting with the flicks
You say it's just for kicks
You'll be the victim of your own dirty tricks
You got yourself to tease and displease

Doors swinging wide
You walked in to hide
Looking at your feet
Failures complete
Saw you and me on the coin-op TV
Frozen in fear every time we appear

I'm not surprised at all
And really, why should I be?
See nothing wrong
See nothing wrong

So sick and tired of
All these pictures of me
Completely wrong
Totally wrong

Go walking by
Here come another guy
Jailer who sells
Personal hells
Who'd like to see me down on my fucking knees
Everybody's dying just to get the disease

Im not surprised at all
And really, why should I be?
See nothing wrong
See nothing wrong

So sick and tired of
All these pictures of me
Completely wrong
Totally wrong

Im not surprised at all
And really, why should I be?
See nothing wrong
See nothing wrong

So sick and tired of
all these pictures of me
Oh everybody's dying just to get the disease
Everybody's dying just to get the disease
Everybody's dying just to get the disease"


EDIT: An apology to the good Policepeople of Portland.
Elliott "died" in Los Angeles. And I don't have to say anything about the cops there...

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Vanity Thought Out, Planned and Executed III

Me and Isabella.

From Tuesday evening at The Chelsea Hotel.

I have way better shots of her.

You know, just by herself.

She is changing her name to Argyle.

Hey, you heard it here first...

Monday, November 12, 2007

Visitation Part II

My blog was recently visited by a fellow by the name of Christian (I love the irony) who runs a blog-catcher called "Univers d'Artistes." In it, as near as I can tell, he just posts shots from photography blogs that he likes, mostly naked chicks, and links back to the photographer's blog.

Some photographer friends of mine are outraged by this. Ask Marko about his "Turkish thing" the next time you get a chance.

I welcome it, and here's why:

Sure, I protect my image. Sure, I build my cult. But in the long run, and in the day and age we live in information dissipation-wise, the more people that I can expose to my work the better. I'm gonna find a fan somewhere even if they come from a porn site, an architecture site, or just a blog-catcher site. My numbers prove it.

And fans kick ass. Patrons kick EVEN more ass.

And anyway, I like Christian's taste. He steals Don Nelson's stuff too.

So I've agreed to do an interview for him sometime this week. I’ll link back to it when I do.

Here's what he posted on his site in regards to this blog:

"Daily, I visit at least 50 blogs and sites... Yes. At least... It's a real work, but I love that. It's my passion !

Today I want to talk you about a nice photoblog runned from July 2006 by James M. Graham, photographer from Brooklyn, New York, United States.

His writing is smart, fine, always happy, not too long, not too short, with many informations about him, his life and moods, his models. In fact, he's writing about everything we like to read in a true blog, telling us us the stories about his shots, many good advices on his work, or the computers, and never forget to make us smile...

So, dear art lover and reader, go and visit him daily, you'll love him too !

Did you read that? "SMART, FINE AND ALWAYS HAPPY" !!!

Hell yeah!

It’s so goddamn sweet!

So here's a photo just for Christian. It's Evelyn. Smart, fine and I hope, always happy...

Saturday, November 10, 2007


My sister is visiting from out of town, so we are busy, busy, busy running around town.

This is not her.

This is Jessica, who should visit more often!

I'll be back soon...

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Before I Go, I'm Hangin' a Cross on a Nail

I'm listening to the new Soulsavers album featuring Mark Lanegan on vocals.

My god, the funeral dirge gospel-ness of it.

The originals are stunning and they cover Neil Young ("Through My Sails"), the fucking Stones ("No Expectations"), and even Mark Lanegan ("Kingdoms of Rain")!!!???

Which is all good. Even the Lanegan covering Lanegan cover. All good.

At 46:30, it is about 10 times too short. I would buy a boxed set of this. Meaning, that this is officially the #1 best record of 2007, narrowly bumping PJ Harvey, who is now THE strong 2nd.

Mark has always been one of my favorites and one of the few that I can actually say I prefer his later solo work WAY over the work with his seminal band, in this case The Screaming Trees. And he has notoriously cancelled almost every East Coast appearance since 1997, when last I saw him at a Sub-Pop showcase at The Westbeth. He didn't make it through more than 4 songs...

Not that I hated The Trees, but man, Mark is more and more like punk rock molasses. He sticks to you and gets better and better with each recording even though he clearly has no aim.

Appreciate me for what I do, for one day I may be gone.

That's Mark, from my perspective. They are playing here on the 27th. We'll see if he shows...

I shot my friend James today (see link to the right) for my portfolio and hopefully for his upcoming Off-Broadway show in the new year. We met about 15 years ago and have always enjoyed hanging out and it was good to see him tonight. Long time coming.

Friday I'm shooting the next self-portrait shot with Vivian. There's a bedpan involved.

This Soulsavers record is killing me. And it's dark and cold (finally) here in Brooklyn.

Here's another photo of Shien, getting ready for the last one.


Saturday, November 03, 2007

Computer Games

Well, I finally did it. I finally bought and configured my (for now) perfect computer system.

The G5 came with a 400G drive and about a year ago I added another 500G internal to hold my photography and then bought an external 500G for backing up to nightly.

Well, they're full.

So, recently, after much thought, I figured out what I wanted. Problem was, it really didn’t exist, albeit in an incredibly cost-prohibitive build-it-yourself from kind of way. I've been spying on the external hard drive manufacturers and they've seemed on the brink of releasing what I was after, and this week they finally did. Well, at least Western Digital did.

The 2T external with RAID1 capability, which is to say that it can be formatted to operate as a 1T redundant drive.

Here's my reasoning: I don't ever want to pay for data retrieval. I've done that professionally through companies that I produced through and it's a total racquet. I want a 1T drive that mirrors itself, so that if one drive fails, I can yank it out and replace it without losing a byte. Key to this is being able to open the enclosure. LaCie does not allow for this as is the case with most third party external drive enclosures. Western Digital does.


When the damn apartment catches on fire, I want to be able to grab something and save my life's work.

I've been speaking to my computer genius friend Lawrence about building an external to this spec and we priced it out (at at around $600 and change...

I walked into J&R downtown on Wednesday, and there was the brand new 2T Western Digital drives for $649.99 RAID1-able.

Seemed like the thing to do. A Halloween present to myself.

Easy set-up and configuration and here it sits, holding 500G of photographs, mirrored.

The current configuration consists of applications only on the 400G internal, documents and photos in progress on the 500G internal (a workstation, if you will) which is backed up nightly to the external 500G. The Western Digital only holds finished, archived photos, which I place on there manually after they are done.

So, technically two things to grab in the fire, unless you count the girl, the cat and my complete collection of Famous Monsters magazines. And the three Trevor Brown paintings...


Next step - figuring out how to get a copy of everything "off-site" - 'cause I probably won't be here when the crazy bitch downstairs sets the building on fire...

This is Shien. I just finished her shots last night on my sleek, shiny, new system.

Friday, November 02, 2007

Vanity Thought Out, Planned and Executed II

The model is Ruth. She's awesome. But I still ain't smiling.

Big stuff coming up, "Self"-wise (that's my working title for these things). A Thanksgiving visit from Erin and maybe Sarah, a bedpan and Miss Vivian. And some other stuff too.

Kudos to my pal Aeric, who at lunch this week sat there and listened while I vocalized for the first time everything that was going through my head in regards to this series. Thanks, man. Check his link to the right.

There is no irony lost on me that I'm always the worse thing about them.

The funny thing is on the shoot the other day for the third one, I caught myself wearing the same shirt as this one...

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

I'm Starting the "The Grifters" Reunion Chant...


Yep, I'm calling for it. Let's make it happen, Dave, Scott, Tripp and Stanley!

What the hell are you doing? RE-FORM THE GROUP!

I saw you three times and although those shows were AWESOME - NOT GOOD ENOUGH!

One of my favorite bands of all time from Memphis, can I get a witness?

Guys, come on!!!!

One more tour.

I did not take this picture. I stole it off the Internets.

But I would gladly and free of charge do the new album cover.




UPDATE: 11/14/07

A member of linked me into a forum that was populated by The Grifters bass player, none other than Tripp Lamkins.

Re: the Reunion:

They asked, he responded "s'not gonna happen."

Amognst other things.

I tried.

And to Tripp (& Co. from Crappity) -

I'm just a fan. And I really loved seeing you all go off.

I Really loved it.


On To Halloween

The title of this entry is from "Child's Christmas in Wales" by John Cale from "Paris 1919." One of my favorite forgotten albums of all time. Rediscovered tonight when I picked it up amongst the other two thousand odd such CDs that I am archiving.

Which means that I ordered and received these cool DJ sleeves that can contain the booklet, the CD and the backpiece. Jewel case can go bye-bye. Which it does. I've got over 720 of them in boxes right now headed for the Brooklyn street.

"Child's Christmas in Wales" is based on a short story by the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas (1914-1953), although my favorite song on the album, all melancholy, is "The Endless Plain of Fortune."

Damn, man, post The Velvet Underground, Mr. Cale was good. Scary Good.

Which seems appropriate.

Carve a Jack-O-Lantern. Dress up your little girls and boys. Revel in the tradition that is Halloween.

And don't be scared of spooks, haints, or otherworldly things. Trick o' Treat wilth reckless abandon.

The only thing to be scared of is the government!

This is Paula. In the photograph, "she" took too many drugs. Just like a bunch of people I knew.


Monday, October 29, 2007

Porter Wagoner, RIP

I used to watch him every Saturday, singing with Dolly.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Self Portrait Faux Paux, Volume III

I want one more. And that would be Volume IV.

Maybe one more after that.

Maybe ten, maybe twenty, maybe twenty-five?

Who knows.

The self-timer is now my bitch.

Me and Dominique tonight, trying to get it right for the Brazilian magazine.

We ultimately did.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Cool Like the Ocean, Burned Like a Summer Home

It's phenomenal what's happening on the West Coast.

Expert Guy on KCRW today reiterated what always comes to mind when "we" have a natural disaster - "we" ain't supposed to be there in the first place. The redwoods regenerate through burn-off. It's not a disaster; IT'S A NATURAL OCCURANCE.

But we are there, and I have many friends in harm's way. They're checked in on me, god knows, through collapsing buildings, blackouts, and general malaise.

So do this for them:

Send positive waves, pray or whatever you do for those people in the way of the fire in California. Then do it twice as much for those guys standing in the inferno for 24 hours.

Title from the most excellent Silversun Pickups' (from Silver Lake if I'm not mistaken) song "Three Seed."

The photo is of Anyssa and she is on fire. My friend Trishy mentioned her today and I've been thinking about her. She photographs like a dream...

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Random Shit, Vol. XXXI

- Listening to Black Flag's "Damaged" and thinking that I like it NOW more than I ever did.

- Just saw Toby's blog entry entitled "My Kid (And Somebody Else's Hot Rod)" with the accompanying picture of Presley and smiled like hell.

- Took the weekend off from people. My girl just got back from 8 days with His Holiness and we just hung out together, messed with the house and walked around Brooklyn. I love doing all of that with her. A lot.

- Saw "30 Days of Night" which had massive potential but ultimately was a pretty severe letdown. Sill, perhaps my new pick for goriest film ever.

- Figured out that close to 2,000 CDs can go in the closet in my office, in little drawers completely alphabetized. CON: I'll have to lose the jewel cases. PRO: I found some really expensive DJ sleeves that will also accommodate the back tray insert. I'm okay with that - better be, as I just ordered $400 worth of them.

- I've got two shoots this week with two models who I will attempt further self-portraits with. This may become the new series. Egotistical much? It is a challenge, as I'm a pretty serious "behind the camera" denizen.

- The Bauer Super 8 camera system in the custom Pelican case is on Craigslist (search for BAUER SUPER 8 if you want it). I paid $800 for it in 1998 and have it listed for $600 (I shot 1 roll with it). I'd take $500 cash...

- Here's a great mentor story: A young photographer friend called me on Friday and left a message asking for help organizing her portfolio for a meeting. As I mentioned above, I took the weekend off from people, and when I called her today, she was literally driving to said meeting. Which makes me the most passive/aggressive mentor of all time. Way to go, James...

- The new SONY 32" met with ASTOUNDING approval from my girl when she got home from DC, especially since it receives all the NYC digital channels through the air crystal clear, pretty much negating the use of the rabbit ears.

- One of the many reasons I love NYC: the double feature on PBS Channel 13 last night was "The Candidate" followed by "The Manchurian Candidate" - now that's inspired! We watched both, with the aid of the above mentioned rabbit ears, so maybe we'll keep 'em. They do look all retro and shit sitting on the '50s Danish Modern credenza!

- Purchased for little miss rotten Baby Kitty today: a new stainless steel water bowl with a rubber base, two boxes of plastic litter box liners, and ten cans of "Special" food. Who's the boss?

- Spent a little while combing the Internets to see if anyone had recorded PJ's show that we saw at the Beacon on the 10th. Didn't find anything yet. But here's the set-list off of some dude's blog.

- I can't get anyone to go see Juliette (Lewis) and The Licks with me on November 10th...I've asked three people and no luck so far. Shit...

- Gonna take the Mamiya in for a cleaning this week, which is better care than I take of myself.

- I got my favorite spam of all time recently. The subject heading was "FUNGO BAT IN YOUR PANTS." I thought it was a new B-52s song, but no, it just linked to some penis enlargement site...which means I'll probably get more. Just to be safe, I checked, and no, no FUNGO BAT in my pants...

Friday, October 19, 2007

I am Produced

Bob Pollard is always right, sooner or later. It's an inescapable and undeniable fact of this life. You just have to let the mood or feeling happen, and he's already written a song to best describe it. Every single time...

Tonight, after a long, long day with my women's clothing client, this song of his off of "Mag Earwhig" best describes how I feel.


"I am pressed, printed, stomped
And strategically removed
I am everybody
Insane without innocence
I am trapped, tricked, packaged
And shipped out
I am produced
I am produced
Pressed, printed, stomped, tripped
Trapped, tricked, packaged, shipped
Pressed, printed, stomped, tripped
Trapped, tricked, packaged, shipped
Pressed, printed, stomped, tripped
Trapped, tricked, packaged, shipped..."

My friend Chip stopped his blog once again. I understand and wish him the best in his FOCUS. We could all take a tip from it.

Stacee from Seattle. Focusing...

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Vanity Thought Out, Planned and Executed

Recently, I got a message from a friend of mine who is the photo editor for a Brazilian magazine that some of my work has been featured in. Seems as though they are doing a feature on "self portraits" from photographers and she asked for one from me - two actually. One per page in a two-page feature. I'm honored, given who she knows and who she has undoubtedly asked as well.

I had a shoot set up tonight with my beautiful friend and wonderful model Natsuko as part of my "I'm only working with people I know and like and have a connection with and if we don't get anything worth a good god damn, then at least we'll have fun, get to catch up and have a great Thai dinner" series.

So I decided to shoot a self-portrait with her included. It's sort of a faux shoot, since the reason I shot the shots I shot was for the self portrait, but hell, Natsuko and I were gonna shoot something anyway and it might as well be this. We'll both be in the magazine and that's cool.

So I did. Some digital as tests, which came out pretty good and a roll of 120 Tri-X in the Mamiya for the real deal - maybe. What this means is that I had to learn and master the self-timers on both cameras and boy, did Natsuko and I have a time. Both are set at 8 seconds - the Mamiya hardwired and the Nikon not-so-much, as Natsuko pointed out, but I refused to go into any menu settings and change it. These were the rules - you have 8 seconds until WHAP!

I found that (big surprise) I got bored at about 6 seconds and would lose my intended pose. This would make Natsuko laugh or genuflect or whatever and due to my "disorder" the shots were trash. But those were the rules!

Changing shit in MENU just pisses me off anyway.

My friend at the Brazilian magazine would like TWO shots, so I gotta do another one. Ideas are rattling around, but damn, I was proud of myself to pull at least one out of thin air.

Here's the first digital...

By the way - the new Sony 32" TV kicks ass. And no, I can't speak or read a word of Portuguese. And - was our boy Bush on a roll today or what? Explain the logic of describing the Dalai Lama as a man of peace and then invoking "World War III" regarding Iran all in the same day. Maybe Colbert/Colbert 2008 can save us...

People make me tired.

Friday, October 12, 2007


Sitting here listening to Ween's "If You Could Save Yourself (You'd Save us All)" which is as good a way as any to spend four minutes and forty seven seconds on a Friday night. My sister, who got turned-on to Ween late gave me this album, since I've never really taken them seriously, even though I used to rent office space to their then manager, Roger. But when my sister falls for stuff, she falls hard, which is a trait we have in common. I sure hope she can visit me this year. I sure do miss her...


Anyway - it's a pretty lonely week ahead of me as my girl is off to make His Holiness look good in our Nation’s ROTTEN Capital, but I WILL MAKE IT productive. The end of the year project (for a major women's clothing manufacturer) is due next Friday and things are really winding down while I chew my limbs completely off and throw them against the wall just to hear the sound that they make when they go THWUMP out of complete and utter boredom waiting for my illustrator and video editor to - finish. Not their fault, just the nature of producing a project of this magnitude – for the eighth time. On a self-promotion note, my book went out today to a pretty godamned well-known weekly NYC magazine who already love my work. And there's more more more in the pipeline, although I LOATHE self-promotion.

But without it, you die penniless and unknown and stupid even being born. And unfulfilled and unsatisfied to boot! And really, really, irrevocably dead. Dead as hell.

And besides, I wouldn't want to miss October in NYC, which is now finally HERE, not only according to the calendar, but according to the Sleepy Hollow air that surrounds us. In this borough. Called Brooklyn.

And boy, is the living room gonna change this week, hunh?! Shit fire and save matches! The 1950's Danish Modern teak credenza shows up on Sunday and then the TRANSFORMATION begins - CDs out of sight, DVDs out of sight, ALL OF THIS SHIT MUST BE OUT OF SIGHT! Do you hear me, shit? OUT OF SIGHT!

Also the current Danish Modern chest that holds about 1600 CDs (they ARE out of sight) is moving out of the living room, down the hall a bit...

We gotta open this bitch up man...

And then, by the end of the week - the 32" Sony LCD screen on the top of the new credenza. Which is amazing since we don’t even have cable and are watching a 20” Sony that I “stole” from my former company’s office before the IRS descended like FUCKING VULTURES. Don't even get me started...

And I gotta sell a bunch of CDs, books, DVDs and a 1985 state of the art Bauer Super 8 movie camera AND the stainless steel restaurant cart that the TV currently sits on, and of course, the TV. We’re talking FIRE SALE, man, ‘cause this shit has got to be out of my SIGHT!

We gotta clean this bitch up man...

Savvier? Yes we are Kelli, yes we are.

As is my friend Angela, shown above, who I may very well be shooting with new, man-made boobies this very week...

Two Boots on the way.

Monday, October 08, 2007


I am not in a very good mood. In fact, it's been ramping up for sometime and now it's hitting it's apex.


This afternoon, I saw "Michael Clayton" the new George Clooney film with the tagline "The Truth Can Be Adjusted" and it didn't help.

Don't get me wrong, it's a fantastic film. Another in a long line of Mr. Clooney (god bless him) waving his fist in the air and saying it shouldn't be this way, it needn't be this way, the corruption must stop! And then he stops it. And man, that final scene where he, well, STOPS ALL THE CORRUPTION just makes you want to sceam and shout in celebration of THE WAY THINGS SHOULD BE.

Until you leave the theatre and you realize that it was all just a fantasy.

Just like at the end of "Good Night, and Good Luck."

And you realize...
...the world is CORRUPT AS FUCK. Otherwise films like this would not NEED to exist. No one would GET THE JOKE.

Like: The world's sidewalk that you walk down on the west side of Broadway as you leave the Union Square 14 whatever-it-is and head south, somewhere, maybe to get the subway on 8th Street, maybe keep walking to Canal, all the while feeling the CORRUPT AS FUCKNESS.

And that bummed me out. It may have been the thing that pushed me over the edge.

So I came home and put Fugazi on REALLY LOUD. Fugazi, the musical equivalent of Mr. Clooney, wrote a million songs this good. God bless them too.

And Michèle, smiling, who blessed me with a photographic sitting one day last month.

"I'm not playing with you,
I'm not playing with you,
I'm not playing with you, yeah you,
I clean forgot how to play.

But you can still come around,
In fact I invite you down,
Maybe together we can wipe that smile off your face.
'Cause what a difference, what a difference, what a difference
A little difference would make.

We'll draw a blueprint, it must be easy,
It's just a matter of knowing when to say no or yes.

Frustrating, frustrating, always waiting for the bigger axe to fall.
A patient game I can't find my way to play.

My way to play - not no way!

Never mind what's been selling,
It's what you're buying
And receiving undefiled.

Never mind!
Not no way to play!"

Friday, October 05, 2007

And He Used To Take Pictures of Them Without Any Clothes On

These are the lyrics to a song by the great T-Bone Burnett.

Like a lot of great songs, until recently, it's been OOP.

To "record collectors" and on eBay, that means "Out of Print" which means you can't buy it new. Used, somewhere perhaps, or you could wait for someone to re-issue it (as Rhino Handmade has done on this one).

I bought "Proof Through The Night" on vinyl when it came out in 1983 and still have it. I also saw him that year in Chapel Hill at The (old, old) Cat's Cradle with Kevin, my friend from across the dorm room hall from me. It was Kevin that "made" me go...

T-Bone was late. And it was the end of Spring in North Carolina, which meant that it was about 100 degrees in the club. We were all talking loudly and restlessly drinking beer in order to keep us "hydrated" - when from the front of the club (the entrance to the street) came some familiar guitar chords.

T-Bone waltzed in, playing Roger Miller's "King of the Road" which he sang as he made his way through he audience and onto the stage as he hit the last chord of the song.

It's one of the finest entrances I've ever seen. And he played "Hefner and Disney" which quickly became one of my favorites from the album.

This year I saw T-Bone at Town Hall here on 43rd Street, post "Oh, Brother..." and a brilliant producing career. It made me kind of sad when he just walked out onto the huge stage to thunderous applause from a bunch of old fat bald guys and their Cohen Bros.-loving wives...and I can't even remember if he played "Hefner and Disney" or not.

“Hefner and Disney” goes like this. Read while you gaze upon my friend Jynx, also from a long time ago…

"Somewhere between Never Neverland and Wonderland
In a land called Never Wonderland
There lived a beautiful wealthy young divorcee
With a checkered past and a bad memory
Who should probably remain nameless
And men traveled from far and wide and try to win her hand
And she took in stragglers from all over the known world

Her newest guests were (as her mother called them)
"The latest Russians to defect"
One's name was Hefner
The other's name was Disney
Disney smoked a pipe and was very philosophical
He was constantly surrounded by go-go girls
And he used to take pictures of them without any clothes on
And sell them to the neighborhood children

Hefner on the other hand was not so introspective
He loved a good story just like anybody else
In fact he loved the myths of Never Wonderland so much
That he made elaborate molded plastic sculptures
Of the characters in the myths
Then ... he would put them out in the garden
Until .... he had built a whole ‘nother land in Never Wonderland
Which he called Hefnerland

And the neighborhood children loved them
They had lots of fun playing in Hefnerland
And looking at all Disney's go-go pictures
Because they didn't know any better
And they didn't know any worse
But the beautiful young wealthy divorcee thought
That they were only after her money
Sometimes she even wished they would go back to Russia

(But between you and me they were really dupes of the Wicked King
Who wanted to rob the children of their dreams)"

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Faux Pony

"When something's dirty
You gotta make it come clean.
America needs a hero
To put put an end to it's kind dream.

I understood
I understood
Yeah, I understood.

Me and Jody Foster
We would have made a fine pair.
If my aim had been straighter
Maybe I could have got somewhere.

I understood
Yeah, I understood
Hey, I understood.

You and me and our love
Could have gone into the stratosphere.
But you know how hard it is
To ever find love anywhere.

I understood
Yeah, I understood
Hey, I'm sorry, I understood.

Loved you in that plaid dress..."

Toiling Midgets. Lorraine.


Monday, October 01, 2007

The Cat Knows Damn Well What Time It Is...

She knows that she gets fed at 9pm. At 8pm, she gnaws my calf or jumps on my monitor and says, "Hey, It's nine!" I look up, see that it's 8pm and tell her that she doesn’t know how to tell time. She sulks off, only to return and do the same thing every 5 minutes until 9pm. And every time she does it, I look at the clock.

No wonder I don't type more on this thing.

Autumn in New York City is a wondrous thing and it is finally here (I hope). Halloween is in the air, as the kids across the street at the school are already peering through windows with paper pumpkins, witches and goblins on them, facing out, just like their little, red-cheeked faces.

Our birthdays are over and the days get darker quicker. There's a nip in the air as the jackets come out and what little short sleeves there are go away

There's a strange static electric energy to Autumn in New York City - more time inside, sure, but also more time outside, it seems, shivering slightly. Wanting a smoke. Grilling way too late in the season by flashlight. Holding hands when it seems like it's also for survival.

Makes me want to see music. Makes me want to create.

There's a Bill Nelson song called "The October Man" that I used to love.

Here's an Andrea Grant photo that I currently love.

Friday, September 28, 2007

We Wish You All a Very Happy Pleasant Flight

Air Travel.

Not pleasant, since, I don't know, my Ohio cum North Carolina homeboys Wilbur and Orville, but even and ever so more unpleasant now.

The "terrorists" DID win. At least based on my trip to Nashville this week. Or my trip to anywhere in the last six years.

I have several friends, mostly photographers oddly enough, that make their living in that industry, albeit for the private or unclassified sector and god bless them. That’s the real deal.

But this privatized shit, man. Lose it.

I said to my girl on the flight from JFK to Nashville in order to witness the burial of her Uncle, "Do you think we will live long enough to see privately owned air travel extinguished?"

I can imagine it. Trains, subways and automobiles.

An aside based on the fact that "they" can't even get us to Nashville: Gimme a show of hands - how many of you ACTUALLY believe that we went to the moon? C'mon, all 80 of you vote...

Think about it, Seriously - not just the myth, but the actual mechanics of get there, land there, walk or whatever the fuck they did there, and take off from there and get back here part.


How come it worked so FLAWLESSLY then? Hunh, Buzz?

Bear with me, but in 1974, I built Revel models of the lunar lander that wouldn't glue together properly.

I've driven brand new cars for 30 miles that fell apart.

I've used cameras that failed failed failed.

And none of them had Lego life support.

Breathe deeply. Oxygen is

I've saved a person's life, but they were just drowning on earth in a stupid little pond, not on another planet.

Why is Buzz Aldrin so angry?

And then there is that one great argument that I have no response to. Because it pretty much sums up everything about the human race that disgusts me:

We must have gone to the moon - how else would all those stupid gossiping motherfuckers keep their mouths shut if we didn't?

Money. Fame. The history books. Their 15 minutes (seconds).

I have no answer for that. And until I do, I am signing off...

The title is a Jarvis Cocker penned line from Charlotte Gainsbourg's "AF607105."

The photo is of Meagan - weightless. Really.

Monday, September 24, 2007

A Long Time Ago

Just finished the checking out the recently well reviewed and received indie documentary "American Hardcore" which chronicles the rise of hardcore punk from 1980-1986, based on the book by Steven Blush.

It's not that impressive a film from a filmic standpoint, as I felt the narrative was unfocused and it borrowed in places a little too much from films like "The Unheard Music."

The interviews with members of the "scene" looks as though they were captured whenever they could get the subject - Jesse Malin outside in the sunlight in a park; Ian MacKaye in some "swinging bachelor pad" - to reminisce a little. There were also just too many backgrounds filled with punk rock records, etc...but they subject are impressive deliver an insightful "we made this" narrative.

Among some of the standouts are Ian, Henry Rollins, Keith Morris, H.R., Greg Ginn, Matthew Barney (?) and my C.O.C. Raleigh boys, Mike Dean and Reed Mullen, who is filmed outside The Brewery.

For information’s sake, the film is an informative scattershot look at a phenomenon that happened and affected and involved me and a bunch of my friends in various and sundry ways. For students of music and sociology, I highly recommend it. For technique, look elsewhere… perhaps Errol Morris’ next film will tackle the same subject.

Was I really there? God, that seems like yesterday, and yet -

I'll resist another post about feeling old.

My best friend Toby and I, circa 1980. We were working on a slide-show narrative for his photography class while vacationing at his Grandparent's ranch in Texas, so we were in "character." Photo by "Auto Timer and Tripod."

Out of costume, we had just discovered "Discipline" by King Crimson.

Hüsker Dü was just around the corner.

I'm off to Nashville.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

She Got Me Out Of My Slump

For now...

Michele From Hawaii.

We had a great time, and this is just a Polaroid that precedes the many images that will follow.

And for that, Michele kicks ass.

Monday, September 17, 2007

White Shadow

I've been in a downright rotten mood lately. Despondent, unmotivated, sad and generally not giving much of a fuck. (You have no home, you have no warmth.)

I think I've figured it out. (It'll be those who gave their island to survive.)

The 6th anniversary of September 11th, 6 days belated. Denying by ignoring, that I stood there watching, smelling, 17 blocks away, gets me through the day. (The actor's gone, there's only you and me.)

Sometimes the everything of that experience takes hold of me and shakes me like a grizzly bear would if she had hold of me. Not often, but when it does, it's like nothing else except that. (They'll use up what we used to be.)

We went up on the roof this year on the 11th and took a look at the blue beacons of light that they plugged in just for the festivities. (Signals grow on radios.)

It was beautiful. I told my girl that they should just leave it on and plant grass in the footprints of the WTC and be fucking done with it. (Still waiting for the swollen Eastern tide.)

Fucking. Done. With. It. (There's no point in direction.)

Memorial. Beacon. Thing. (We cannot even choose a side.)

Way more reverent then those horrid insect-like things full of Starbucks and Office Depots that the Beaurocrats and Scumbags are trying to "design." (On the tall cliffs they were getting older.)

But they won't do that. Nope, never. (The nail sunk in the cloud.)

It'll be horrible, just like everything else. (If again the seas are silent.)

And that makes me sad. (In the thunder crash.)

This song, an "oldie," triggered this rant tonight. It played randomly, and the grizzlies took hold. (We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood.)

Peace. (Drink up.)


(Peter Gabriel)

"When the night shows.
The signals grow on radios.
All the strange things.
They come and go, as early warnings.
Stranded starfish have no place to hide.
Still waiting for the swollen Easter tide.
There’s no point in direction, we cannot even choose a side.

I took the old track.
The hollow shoulder, across the waters.
On the tall cliffs.
They were getting older, sons and daughters.
The jaded underworld was riding high.
Waves of steel hurled metal at the sky.
And as the nail sunk in the cloud, the rain was warm and soaked the crowd.

Lord, here comes the flood.
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood.
If again the seas are silent.
In any still alive.
It'll be those who gave their island to survive.
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry.

When the flood calls.
You have no home, you have no walls.
In the thunder crash.
You're a thousand minds, within a flash.
Don’t be afraid to cry at what you see.
The actors gone, there's only you and me.
And if we break before the dawn, they'll use up what we used to be.

Lord, here comes the flood.
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood.
If again, the seas are silent.
In any still alive.
It'll be those who gave their island to survive.
Drink up, dreamers, they're running dry.

Drink up, dream up your alibi."

Friday, September 14, 2007

Sedan Delivery is a Job I Know I'll Keep

Life got in the way today.

Sometimes things don't work out like you'd like them to.

Sometimes after a 15 hour day where things don't work out like you'd like them to, the Q train NEVER comes.

A talk with Mr. Willis helped, and he understood what the deal was, as alwys.

But you know...I'd rather be bowling.

With Neil Young and Juliet.

Been thinking about it all day long....

Thursday, September 13, 2007


...except Natsuko.

Don't EVER believe anything you read here. Unless you know me. And even then, you should ask me. And then, only if you know what I tell you is true.

And we can start from there.

Pictures lie.

Blogs are worse.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Down Payment on a Farm

Here's a little parable:

This guy I know started an interactive production company in 1996 in NYC. Offices on Lafayette, then Bond, then Broadway between Grand and Howard. He did about $7M between then and 2000, when the Internet crash happened, and even though his wasn't a "web company" it got hit by the aftershocks. He went under in December of 2000 HARD owing about $25k in payroll taxes to UNCLE SAM, i.e. the $7M was long gone and he didn't get much of it at all. Since he was the only principal at that time, the business debt flowed straight through to him personally.

He's been fighting the IRS for seven years as the debt rose to almost $70k due to interest tax and his apparent blatent refusal to pay income tax until the whole thing was solved, for instance the year and a half after September 11, 2001 when he didn't work at all.

Last week, after FINALLY coming to his senses and employing a tax attourney for $5,500.00 he settled with UNCLE SAM for just under $12k. He told me that even though he settled for about 1/5 of the total, it took about seven years off of his life, his credit rating and his ability to buy dinner on a date.

If you can, pay your taxes folks. Even though it's probably illegal. Fuckers.

That could have been a downpayment on a farm in upstate NY, like the ones I heard about at FARM AID yesterday.

My girl gave me the birthday gift of taking a water taxi (!) to Randall's Island in the East River where we stood in the dirt on Randall's Island yesterday to see the first NYC appearance of FARM AID in it's 22 year history. Really it was just to see Neil Young (and some Willie) but we were down with the cause, yo!

Neil Young's set was badass, just him acoustic, Peggy on backing vocals and acoustic and Ben Keith on Dobro. Willie played on "Homegrown" - go figure.

Neil looked noticably older than I've seen him in a while, but the energy was right there.

Just like the first time I saw him in 1983, way too late, but what could I do?

After "Nobody Knows..." my girl said, "That's a really sad song..."
God, I love me some Neil Young.

The setlist (with album reference, follows):

Neil Young, Farm Aid 2007, Randall's Island, New York, NY, 9/9/07

Human Highway (Comes A Time)
Silver and Gold (Silver and Gold)
Beautiful Bluebird (Chrome Dreams II)
Too Far Gone (Freedom)
Everybody Knows This is Nowhere (Everybody Knows This is Nowhere)
Heart of Gold (Harvest)
Homegrown (American Stars 'n Bars)
Four Strong Winds (Comes A Time)

Saturday, September 08, 2007


...except for a photo of Angela Grant, looking fantastic, from the other night, laughing.

The black and whites are back from the lab and being scanned now.

More to follow when I am, uhhh, more motivated.

Note: Dead zebra "should" look great in b&w - but this is just a theory for now...

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

We Are Standing on the Edge...

"The Head of State has called for me - by name, and I don't have time for him."

It's gonna be a glorious day.
"Cause Thom Yorke said so...

Andrea Grant, Ladies and Gentlemen, while the world goes to utter and complete hell.

You better read her poetry now by accessing the link to the right, before it all comes to a sudden and firey end.

An aside:
I was once in a pretty bad taxi accident.
Taxi strike today.
The image of Andrea reminds me of the accident coupled with the strike...

...and then there's that button.

Saturday, September 01, 2007


I've been cleaning out my office.

This is a Herculean task (as Bill Hicks might say) that involves pulling the mountain of shit packed in there out into the hallway and the living room and having my girl deal with it as I go through all of it - piece by piece.

I live in Brooklyn, folks! Space is at a premium!

And you know, when you go through old shit, you tend to reminisce. Which can multiply the minutes, hours and days:

"Oh, look, I was so young."
"Oh, I remember that kitty."
"Wow, he's dead."

It also involves compiling and archiving EVERY negative I've ever shot - we're talking sometime in the '80s here, which has also been a nostalgia ride.

I'll post some craziness as soon as I can scan it.

And I don't have time to get rid of my shit on eBay, so if you happen by my stoop tomorrow in Brooklyn, there's gonna be a huge "this shit is free - please take it away" sale.

In the meantime, Shien, from 1920, shot last night on Polaroid in the Bronx.

The Yankees were playing Tampa Bay, which just fucked me up getting home via a Bronx car service whilst attemping to get to dinner in Park Slope.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Birthday Gift

The most-coveted and wildly renegged on (Chris Bush!) Polaroid 180.

With the portrait and close-up lenses, which make all the difference in the world.

Thank you very much, Michael.

I'll do you proud, I promise.

You rock, as long as you continue to LISTEN TO BLACK SABBATH!

Self portrait with Evelyn standing on a chair in the background...