Wednesday, October 31, 2007
It's ABOUT TIME!
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.
A member of www.crappity.org 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.
And to Tripp (& Co. from Crappity) -
I'm just a fan. And I really loved seeing you all go off.
I Really loved it.
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
Thursday, October 25, 2007
I want one more. And that would be Volume IV.
Maybe one more after that.
Maybe ten, maybe twenty, maybe twenty-five?
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
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
- 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
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
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.
Not no way to play!"
Friday, October 05, 2007
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
"When something's dirty
You gotta make it come clean.
America needs a hero
To put put an end to it's kind dream.
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.
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.
Yeah, I understood
Hey, I'm sorry, I understood.
Loved you in that plaid dress..."
Toiling Midgets. Lorraine.
Monday, October 01, 2007
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.