trying to repair it anyway I can...

Seen & Heard

* A vocal booth that wasn't a closet and a mic that didn't have a sock over it... oh and lots of knobs - Midtown

* "Even someone ordinary can have a burst of extraordinary..." - A woman with a wonderful way with words.

Running Woman 13

Made it to Trotting Lane in the dirty depths of a heatwave. Trotting, not running yet... 4.77 miles.

twinkies twinkle today

Evolution

I am love. I feel loss. I'm beautiful. A blooming rose beats inside of me. Freedom rings on the dancefloor. Two baby girls smile when they see me. I'm not afraid to fight for someone. Soul sisters rule. Patience. I forgive. Love...

Lost

"The thing's hollow—it goes on forever—and—oh my God—it's full of stars!"

Sean Stiegemeier has pulled his exquisite timelapse teaser of the stars at night from his Vimeo catalog. I remember how the music and the visuals were so very perfect that I felt like I was dreaming. I've added this footage instead just so I can remember where I was when I found the first clip. A fair replacement. Thank you, Luka Balkovic!

 
Timelapse teaser from Luka Balković on Vimeo.

Woman on Wire

I ramble. This can be annoying, but my thoughts are messy and barely alive... like the 20 something plants scrambling for rays in my living room. I blame the drugs I experimented with and the many hours of sleep lost from doing them. In one of my episodes, I tried desperately to remember, through all the muck, what I saw that could change the world… one. The wars, the priests and rabbis, the camps, processed foods, and poor, defenseless animals against the NRA wasn’t enough and their names became part of the muck. 5 big yellow stars later I could only think of a man on a wire on top of the world. What it took to be so far away... Poetry and stillness is the move. Possibly, no, most definitely, a woman, too. It led me to the snowman who once told me he never overthinks. What he really meant was everything is up there, on wire, just not me. Then the Brit who said it was OK to be thought-less for days. I don't know what that means. I want to explain everything and understand what isn’t mine. But a businessman, who I never met before, simply sent me his thought in image form. I remembered just now as I'm listening for Saxman - making me high. I dream of hanging on.

Darkroom Diaries

luton spring

Seen & Heard

*Baby girls giggling for reasons that elude me.

*"There's nothing more crushing to the artist than believing an impression was never made." - tv to jd

on my way

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.