whatever you're looking for

Darkroom Diaries

an empty lot

Running Woman 12: The Resolution

I've decided to sign up for a 10K run (6.25 miles). Why do I torture myself, you ask? (Actually, I don't think anyone reads this f*cking thing, so maybe the question is directed to the friends in my head - Madonna, Oprah, Tori, Angelina, Amel, Cheri, Parker, Wendy, Snooki, etc... ) Because I'm convinced I like putting myself in painfully annoying & equally exhilarating situations that never result to anything but an incredibly exhausted heart.

I ran 2.6 miles in 29 degree frosty weather through a path right out of a Tim Burton sketch. Bare boned trees looked alive and ready to pluck me out of obscurity... or into it...

a thundering collision

of kandinsky

Vincent

I saw this at the MOMA and couldn't help but feel a dark, spooky, horrorific, kindred connection.

Darkroom Diaries

The Walk

I was nervous when Papito M volunteered to take me for a walk. I had grandiose ideas about capturing a place I really only knew through song, 8mm films, countless childhood stories, and the yellowing black n white photos hidden in family albums. No one else had been interested. Still, we were oceans apart in years and frankly, I didn't know if my diminishing Spanish vocabulary would carry Papito M and me through an entire day. In the end, I got on board. On the bus that is. It drove up a steep hill, making turns at probably the same speed as the buses on the highway, and dropped us off in the hood. We walked. Maybe it was hours or days. He was 76, so time was important and irrelevant. Words were light as a feather. Although, he tends to be quiet anyway, I couldn't help but believe I was understood. He was patient. Brave. Silent. A gentleman. He was everything I needed to reconnect, then bought me lunch!

When we got back from our walk, Mamita A was pissed we ate. This meant she was worried, but was too proud to care. When Uncle A asked about the sites, I couldn't find words to describe them.... I remember the Virgin statue at a dangerous traffic circle. There was a stairway "to heaven." Lightbulbs dangling from trees. Homes where future lovers lived. Old men playing cards. Fútbol dust. It was brilliant. Papito M was brilliant. And mostly I described him...

an angel.

Darkroom Diaries

My profesór told me last night that I need to take a chance. There's a vast gray area, but black and white is not yet defined. A bit foggy. New cameras mean long learning curves, but... "Let the image unfold," he said. "You are holding back because of all the intricate details." "Let (them) go."

I'm wondering if he was referring to my latest prints.

Warhol Wonders

“Isn't life a series of images that change as they repeat themselves?”

Happy Halloween, superstars.

DayTrippers

The Derelict and I most definitely are kindred spirits. No question. I called him frantically asking a rhetorical that he was none too happy to answer anyway. "Why am I such a tard?!" I lost my keys tonight, so it begged the rebel yell and this is so very typical. I lose everything, including love, and keep threatening to get more organized. My heart rate exceeded its maximum potential and my cheeks burst into plum tomatoes. How else to find brick-heavy keys? Of course, my professor, who of cooourse I have a secret, darkroom crush on, entered the picture. He was there for the chivalry. Then, after all the slightly composed dramatics, I found my keys at Public Safety and his day was done. I digress, the Derelict answered with a, "Well I've given this a lot of thought..." and obliged. His explanation went something like this -

I've been trying to figure out who was worse. I used to think I was a little better off and you were just a bumbling tard floating through life clueless, but now I think maybe you're winning and I'm just a bigger one. The problem is we're daydreamers - living as if we had all the time in the world to be creative. We don't want life to progress because we haven't achieved our goals. Change is hard on us.

The Derelict said a lot more that was pretty hilariously poignant, as he fumbled around to find his wallet.

Running Woman 11

My sister made me run today. It will be the first at 38 years young. What a difference the fall air makes. It tasted like my freezer. I crawled and clocked in at 2.5 miles. It should have been faster and longer, but I'm older now.

Jojo

Tonight I met up with a monster.

The kind that breathes under

your bed within the

deepest, darkest, corner

of your mind. Living loveliness

from a bouquet of roses.

In the end

a windy walk home.

I was flirting with danger

all along. A long, humiliating night

listening to the music

that was never gone too far.

I am who I am.

Even on my

birthday, I can

sing. So, tiny little Monster,

I give you -

my stars.

Seen & Heard

* Baby #7 crawling on wet grass straight toward a big puddle as super Z mom and her college B gal pal watched in awe.

* "I'd rather deal with a player than a p*ssy." - Queen(s) M w/wine glass in hand, legs crossed, & tude in full effect.

Darkroom Diaries

I printed until my eyes burned and my back gave out. The result was dark and moody and maybe "obvious." Note to self, the O word hurts more than "unoriginal." Reminder to my other self, everything isn't original and nothing is ever obvious.

Darkroom Diaries

I have begun my Photo 2 class - a room full of young, starry eyed art majors each with something immensely important to say/show. Me... I dunno. I lost 3 cameras recently. My heart gets a little crushed every time I think about this - losing 3 eyes, 3 perspectives, 3 time machines. I have nothing terribly important to express except that loss sucks and mourning sucks more.

3 weeks later and my new, very old, very used, usually trusty Hasselblad has arrived. A scary strapless beast with a silver lens. What if it can't be tamed? What if I suck? A good friend of mine says that ONE is the secret to success. I hope he is right.

Our first day Photo 2 assignment was to submit an art proposal. Mine will be to explore lost objects. I would elaborate as I did in the essay I presented my professor last week, but it was immensely convoluted & slightly hopeful. It was something to say.

Liquid Television: The Bunnies

Thank you, CC, for reminding me of my bunnytastic angst over Jaaaake!
John Hughs RIP

Seen & Heard

* Two cute, cynically hopeful, anti-chicklit, but pro-Amy-n-Meryl, New York gals sharing sweet pad thai and The Office dreams.

* "I think Black sleeps with dolls" - Cupcake

... in the fog

Seen & Heard

* Sand, sun, river, and rain in Long Island City as the master, Jellybean, played a house track with a "Summer" chant.

* "I just woke up one day and realized I was a stranger in a strange land." - The Derelict

The Secret to Surviving NYC

analyze
adapt
overcome