Friday, January 30, 2009

Wondrous Creatures




I was thinking the other day about the wondrous creatures I’ve know over the course of my life. From the neighborhood little girls I played with to my first love in grade school, to the teacher I was head over heels with; big or tall I’ve loved them all. When I was beginning my photographic career I combine it with my love of women and my respect for them. Never one to just look for beauty I found the most interesting who’s personality had a special shine. If they happened to be beautiful too I consider it a bonus and a nice exterior I was doubly blessed . After all even beautiful girl need love too and who better than me.

As I matured I found I was welcomed to the world of women and found myself being able to learn from them. That didn’t prepare me to deal with them any better that the next man but it at least gave me a chance to try to understand them better. The women in my life have taught me a lot about themselves and about the ways they see the world. They’re complicated and maddening, we desire them and hate them, sometimes in equal measure. But above these things we love and covet them and we truly care for them in all there complexities. Remember back to the last argument you got into with the one you love and you’ll know what I mean.

I once got into a disagreement with one I loved (well, more than once) over something I can’t remember and she turned and walked away. Just shut me out, I was so infuriated that I too just turned and walked away in anger and confusion. I spent the afternoon at a friends house that I had the keys for. Later that night she called and apologize and she said she didn’t know why she’d reacted that way. It was only when she saw me walking away in anger that it dawned on her. Mind you I should have gone after her and that didn’t absolved me for that but she understood why I had reacted to her that way. She was so calm about things and forgave me, I was confused and put off guard I didn’t know how to react. That I think is a part of their defense, do the unexpected and keep you off balance. Effective strategy and one I learned to adapt for my own uses.

She was my first relationship as a mature male and it was a great learning experience for the both of us. We went on trips together and were together most night but we had our own separate places for those nights we wanted some peace and quiet. She was a lot younger than me and needed time and space to experience life and to grow into the woman she was meant to become. I was all too happy to share lives together and apart, we both separated for a year and went our own ways but still we kept in touch. Then we both came back to the town we lived and were together again, for a few years we even had a exclusive relationship. Time is said heals old wounds and I guess that’s true to some extent. But we both got itchy feet and I came back to Texas and though we saw each other from time to time it wasn’t mean to be. We both got caught up in our lives and our dreams so we went our separate lives. Pity, I sometimes wonder if I had stayed what kind of life would I have now. Surely much different but better..., I don’t know.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ever lovely Vada

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Generation’s





When I was a little boy Eisenhower was president and life was simple then. As a youngster I realized I was a second class citizen in my own land, the land of my father. I knew that I was welcome by some and tolerated by other, hated by a few. The color of my skin was the determining factor that set me apart, my history would not be accepted by others. The history that was taught in school had nothing to do with my history and nothing positive was told about that story. If you’re white your right, black get back and brown stick around was a saying that I was all to familiar. Rev. Joseph Lowery benediction at Obama’s swearing in ceremony brought that to mind.

Although too young to understand the hatred my race engendered I couldn’t help but understand that it was aimed at people like me. From our neighbor who grew roses to the disdain of the little red head who lived across the street who sent me home from her birthday party. I knew that I wasn’t welcomed just anywhere and learned I had to be careful to approach certain kinds of people. My cousin and I walked from the park our families were having a picnic to the swimming pool up the road. We weren’t allowed in that pool because of our skin color but we could stand at the fence and watch what we were missing. Or the excitement of riding the bus for the first time on my own and my mother looking worried and asking the bus driver if I could ride in front so I’d know when to get off.



Fast forward to my adulthood and a christmas party I attended with some friends. Someone should have told the hostess I was a guest of my friends because she confronted me in the kitchen and looked at me as though I had wander in off the street and wasn’t welcome. So much for southern hospitality, I have a much different view. This was brought to mind by the outrage generated by Jeremiah Wright in the recent election. Dr. Wright is a well educated man and served his country well. He was on the medical team who cared for President Johnson after his heart surgery. Jeremiah Wright has a right to his opinion, by his service to this country he has earned that right.

The experience of Dr. Wright and me for that matter did not have the experience of the "average" American born in this country in the 1940's. We and many millions of others did not experience the American Dream as others. We came from the same cloth that spawned Martin Luther King and others in the struggle for equal rights. The experience of that other American, the dream of the big house and the white picket fence and the well kept yard was not our dream or our reality. We had to fight for what was right and what was just, we had to struggle for those rights every day of our live and I can’t blame Dr. Wright for being bitter or for being misquoted. President Obama explained it best when he placed his views in a historic and sociological context. It was the times they were for people of color, that was the reality of the day and we must not look the other way but face them squarely and admit the truth of his statements no matter how unpleasant or harsh they are.

But we must face the reality that the time are a changing, generations of today aren’t swept up in the bitterness of the past. The young don’t know or care for the times of the past and the bitterness some people hold on to. I was raised as a different creature and I grew up with equals where I was judged by the content of my mind not just the color of my skin. Though make no mistake skin color was important to some but they couldn’t overlook my mind or my soul. Once while riding the streetcar to work I spotted a lady that I knew and said hello in passing. She came over to sit by me and blurted out that looking at me one wouldn’t think that I could even speak English. Never but never judge a book by it’s cover!

Friday, January 23, 2009

Lady Liberty




The majesty of our style of government was on display the other day as the regime changed in this country. It was a shift not only in the style and substance of governance but in generations as well. A new generation of leaders is ready to take control and lead us through our perilous time. As Barack said it’s going to be a long hard struggle, many sacrifices are yet to be asked of us and it will be difficult. But as a nation we can and will triumph over adversity once again. His call for self-sacrifice and service rang a bell with me and many other people. Let’s see if his words have any meaning to those who govern us.

It’s no only time, it’s pass time to do what right for our country and to put partisanship aside and work together. Time for our Congress to set aside differences and work together for a change to solve the very real problems that we face. For too long have the money-changers had control of our finances and live’s. For too long has our leadership fixated over inconsequential instead of facing the very real prospects of bankruptcy. Now we face no other choice than the hard work of fixing our economy and living within our means. The American public has faced that reality and has quit shopping and using credit to buy things they really don’t need. I believe the American public is outraged over bailing out the back because they have created there own problems. By giving away free money in the form of easy credit they have sow the seeds of there own destruction. Ditto for easy mortgages and loans for grandiose housing projects. This I believe was spawned by the bankruptcy laws recently enacted that favored the banks.

We live under the poisonous cloud of greed, an uncontrollable greed that has
bankrupt our nation of morals, spirit and a sense of values. The very foundation of our future and that of our children is at stake. That’s why I believe in the principle of service, to our elders, to our children and to our community. We own it to them not to fail in our attempts of right some very basic wrongs in our society. In my old neighborhood there was a man about my age who I met walking everyday. As he went along he’d pick-up trash that he found in the streets and alleys of our neighborhood. When I saw him coming up my street I’d wait for him to get close then I’d take the trash and recyclables and deposit to the various cans. Now I’ve stolen the idea from him and in my walks though the park I pick up the trash I find. One maybe two bags and dispose of them in the waste can, I figure it’s one or two bags less that won’t find it’s way into the river. No big deal, it’s good exercise bending and picking and putting the trash where it belongs. I don’t feel noble or like I’m saving the world or anything like that. I love the park and it makes me feel good to show my appreciation in some way. Little signs of affection can do wonderful things if you want to try.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Double Standard



As many of you have heard nude’s of Madonna just sold for quite a hefty sum at Christie’s. They were shot by Lee Friedlander and taken when M. was twenty and broke. I vaguely remember when Playboy published them some years ago and I think they were very nice photos from what I remember. I think she posed with a kitten in one of them and they weren’t the least bit raunchy. Indeed they were a capture of a young woman at the beginning of her sexual prime.
They’ve been branded as "explicit" in the articles about them but I don’t feel that way. First of all the word "explicit" gives one the feeling of something dirty and almost pornographic. Friedlander is a recognize artist of some merit who’s work has been shown at the International Museum of Photography. His work include some of the world best known Jazz musicians of his era. He was working primarily in 35MM B&W and featured his work of social landscapes. He is not your everyday pornographer though his work with Madonna was featured in Playboy.
As Madonna herself said, so what when she was asked about them. It’s not like Madonna didn’t use her sexuality to sell her art. Dare I say it, it’s not like she was some kind of virgin to begin with..., well maybe a long time ago. It isn’t like she was exploiting herself she was using her assets to help make a name of herself first as a dancer then a singer. It’s not like Vanessa Williams who was exploited by an unscrupulous photographer who sold her images to Bob Guccione and ruined her status as the first black Miss America. I fail to see any double standard here.
Although the situation was almost the same, two young struggling kids who needed some cash it isn’t the same to me. Vanessa’s career was derailed by those photos and real harm was done to her. Though her images were vastly more "explicit" they were tame by today’s standards. Much was made of the lesbian quality of them and they were exploited by a magazine for profit. Here was a young woman who was struggling to pull herself up by her bootstraps. A life lesson for all the young people out there, photo’s last forever. Be very careful who photographs you in a compromising positions. I know that a lot of kids these days figure what the hell, if Paris can do them a make a fortune why not?
Ms. Hilton come from a background of riches, her grandfather created his wealth in the hotel business and his heirs have lacked for nothing except good sense and class. It is so dangerous these days for young people, here we’ve glamorized the Paris’s and the Brittany’s so now the very young are posting nude shots of themselves or their friends on cell-phones and bringing the wrath of the authorities on themselves and playing around with being branded a sex criminal. We’ve created a monster of outrage and disapproval while condoning the very behavior that we are attempting to stamp out. We have created this ourselves by not having the honesty to explain to our children how human beings work and what may work best for them. Kids will be kids and explore their sexuality whether we like it or not, whether we understand it or not. People change as they grow older but now the cost are so high for that life lesson to sink in.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Esperanza



I’ve been working with this young lady since she was twenty-two years old and it’s been a rewarding experience. We’re friends of sorts and I get to see her about every five years or so. In this image she was the ripe old age of thirty-five and she was still a ball of fire. I’m not sure that the life she had planned is the one she ended up with but then that true for all of us.
She got in touch with me that first time, a mutual friend had told her about my work. She needed someone that she could trust and have a good time with. She’s a very private person at times but she’s always lived her life large. In her younger days she was thinking of a modeling career and maybe film so she needed to experience the medium. She began to trust me and over several sessions I could shoot what I like and she didn’t even want to see what we’d shot just the finished prints. She gave me a blanket release but I’ve always checked with her for permission and I have no problem abiding by that. Which brings me to the reason(s) I object to the provisions of 2257a.
With a lot of my model we have mutual friends who get very curious as to what we up to photographically. They don’t see why I shouldn’t show them the work we do. I take the approach that it’s not unlike a doctor / patient relationship and how would they like having there personal information out there for all to see. I like getting permission and seeing if my model has any objections to the use of images that we have produced. I promise each model anonymity and that I will keep her identity private no if’s and’s or but’s. But now we are being forced to post that information on each and every image we produce under penalty of law.
In this age of Google people are being hurt by that free flow of information. Consider that the Department of Motor Vehicles will not give you information just from the licence plate without a court order. The idea is to protect people from the very real threat of stalkers. Yet photographers are to leave vulnerable their models and friend to a whole range of discrimination not to mention stalkers. Where is the basic justice in this law. Anyone with knowledge of how to do a search will have access to there very private information. Anyone who doesn’t post that information is libel to a hefty fine and a period of incarceration.
Doesn’t the Department of Justice have more urgent priories than the prosecution of poor photographer’s and their models trying to produce art and trying to make a few bucks. No matter how distasteful it may seem to others, if it’s a willing contract between consenting adults it’s no one else’s business. I can understand the aim of the law is to protect minors from getting involved with shady characters who’ll post there images for profit on some girly site. But that’s not what’s happening here, it’s the wholesale invasion of privacy issue and it affects us all. Models and photographers don’t want their private information posted for all the world to see. I have no problems with the collecting of Driver Licenses as proof of adulthood but I have a real problem with the wholesale collection of information that I have no control of. As a matter of preference I prefer to work with women who have reached an age of reason because my photos last forever. I think eighteen year old models don’t have any business entering into to an adult contract that might harm their future. However if that girl is trying to get into the business or has chosen to dance as a way to survive then they have a right to get them best photographer they can manage.
In the end we can’t protect everyone from themselves, right now teenagers are sending very adult images of themselves to each other by phone. We have a group of very young people who’s live have been destroyed by the very laws that are meant to protect them. Their branded for life as sexual deviants for send images and harmless touching of each other. Where does this end?

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Me




Let me say from the outset that I am not as svelte as my friend Dave and you’ll never see me nude on my blog but I do have more hair. I recently update my photo on my blog to represent the person I am today and the results are kind of shocking. I have a lot of grey hair and my salt and pepper beard has gone mostly to salt. This is the person that people see when they look at me, when they hold doors for me or talk in elder-speak when I go to Starbucks. Were did he come from this new me that has taken over my body.
I don’t see myself this way when I look in the mirror in the morning. I mean I see him but my mind is much kinder when he registers. Of course I see the baggy eyes and the character line, the beard looks familiar but is that really who I’ve become. I still see myself as robust and full of life and lust, well OK I know that’s not realistic but I think about it. I notice a lot of young women and older one’s smile at me and I finally figured out that’s it’s because I have reached that safe age. I no longer represent a theat to them and their safety. One of my models was over and decided to show me how she and her boyfriend work out together. I realized how physically strong this young woman was. Made me think back a few years ago when I was in to ballooning and I was running out into a field with a young woman and I was pleased she was keeping up with me. Then she very smoothly pulled ahead of me to get to the basket effortlessly and I remember being surprised.
Looking at the photos yesterday I have a new appreciation for turning sixty and my limitations. I have a certain sense of style in dress and carry myself well but now it in a different mode. It’s more an elder statesman, a representative of the older person’s type of role. I remember years ago being at a party among friends I’d known for years. We men were gathered to ourselves in a group chatting amicable. I suddenly perceived our group as bull elephants gather together in a herd with the young bulls prowling at the edges. Maybe it was the smoke, they say it will get in your eyes. The girlfriend of a young man I’d known since he was a child came up to talk with me and someone snapped a photo. Take another one as I had my arm around this young lady. She relaxed against me totally trusting and secure in my honor as a older man. Damn I miss not being a threat anymore.










i saw a girl today
one i’d met
or only seen
some years ago
youth came
flooding back
like memories
in an old man’s mind


i hadn’t realized
how many years
i’d lived
and how old
i’d grown
in oh so
short
a time




for elaine b.
and me
14 december 1973 / 2009

Friday, January 9, 2009

Around


Well..., I had a really nice post for you today but I somehow deleted it yesterday. I don’t know what happened but it’s gone, my apologies. Instead I’ll leave you with some poetry of mine written in the seventy’s sometime. It’s amazing how full of myself I was but there you have it. I was in my mid-twenty and life was sweet though I didn’t know it, what I’d give to know then what I know now. But anyways I used to write quite a bit and I even sent my stuff to several publishers to see if there was any interest. I got two books back with some polite notes except one book kept me hanging for months it seemed like. Finally it was returned with a lovely letter explaining that they didn’t publish poetry but they had hung on to it for so long so everybody had a chance to read it. That was the first of only a few of the nicest rejection letters I received. Enjoy it for what it’s worth.



Around I looked
and you
had gone
left me wondering
who
why
and what
had been
street-sides
and parks
empty
a part of
my life
empty
Around I looked
though
I’d been warned
and You
had gone


All right reserved
Michael Vasquez

Monday, January 5, 2009

Writing


I’m really pleased with the way my handwriting has come along. From an undecipherable scrawl to something almost passable. My arm has gone from absolutely flaccid and lifeless by my side to a useful appendage at last. But the metamorphous didn’t come easy or painlessly. Through endless exercise to just using it, I worked until I’m getting some good return and I can type again at long last, with dropped letter or added but I have learn to type again.
I had to learn to reprogram my mind first and then to rework the pathways in my brain. That’s where all the damage was done in the first’s place. There was nothing physically wrong with my hand, arm or leg; it was all in my mind as they say. But the longer it hung at my side the more useless it was becoming, the more atrophied it became from un-use. Use it or lose it as the old saw goes, I had lost the use of it and now I had to learn use it again or the loss was permanent. So I started from scratch and learned again how to move my arm, hand and leg.

I remember being so proud and getting some confidence back when I raised my hand up to my face early on. I couldn’t keep it there and it certainly took for ever to raise it but the point was I did it. I proved to myself that I could do it and with just a little will power I would learn to walk again too. But the process seemed endless and at time unrewarding. Keeping my spirits high was a prime goal of mine. That’s easier said that done the reality of my paralysis was at times over whelming. Though it got easier to do the exercises I didn’t feel there was a choice left to me that didn’t leave me worse off than I was. I was religious about my exercises and did them everyday. On my days off I tried to cook as normal, wash the car (only once was enough) and get back to showering as normal. It’s easy to forget how to do something that’s as normal as breathing. Normal as closing your eyes and lathering your head or washing your legs.
Balance was the challenge for me, how to balanced and moved at the same time. How to come to a full stop and write a check as I went through the checkout line. One day I felt myself going over and I couldn’t feel anything to keep me from falling. Now this is going to be embarrassing as I tipped further and further. At the last possible moment I found something to grab and I stayed upright thankfully but it was mighty close. I was all too aware that reaching out to ease my fall could cause a broken bone or worst if I hit my head. I lived in terror of some little kid bumping into me as children are want to do through no fault of their own or mine. The result would be the same for me though.
Then as I slowly recovered I started trying to write checks for the things I had purchased . I always made out the check at home and filled in the amounts only at the store. I learned a new appreciation for older people who are under tremendous pressure to do things faster because people are waiting. I also became aware of the process of writing the check, the ways you have to balance your body to physically write the check. I’ve found myself gripping with my toes for balance and stability to be able to perform the act of writing. It’s very complicated process writing and standing at the same time. And mine you I’m talking about printing not the smooth style of writing that I was used to.
But as I say I’m pretty pleased with the way I’m printing these days. I can look back at my check registry and notice the improvements. Through my blood-pressure log I can chart my progress day by day, week by week as the months turn into the years of my recovery that I’ve conquered.

Friday, January 2, 2009

Help


Sometimes I just smash into a brick-wall with my limitations, I’m just stopped cold with an overload of information. Like with my medical billing information, I’ve been trying to decided what plan is best for me in my circumstances. Might as well throw a dart as to decide and today it’s too late to figure it out. That’s the frustrating thing about being mentally challenge, there’s no one to help you figure out your way through the maze of rules. You’re left to fend for yourself and make the best decision you can and if you screw-up, well tough.
You wouldn’t believe the strange machinations I have to go through to write this blog. Spelling, thank god for spell check but how do you get it to work when you can’t spell in the first place or think of the word you want. So I look for a word that similar in meaning and try thesaurus and hopefully find the word I wanted in the first place. Next I have my trust Doubleday Dictionary but there are so many words I get confused about spelling and which word I wanted to use in the first place. Then if all else fails I use a different word than I wanted and hope I’ll think of the word I wanted in the first place. But good luck with that, I’ve been trying to think up the name of a singer for weeks now and I remember once and promptly forgot.
I get frustrated by my inability to choose, whether it’s a direction in life or in medical care. The list goes on and on, what’s more frustrating is to not be able to remember whether I did it better in the past or I care more now. I know for certain that I can’t talk or laugh or sing like I did in the past. I never was a great singer but I loved to sing along with my favorites and was once told I had a lovely voice. These are things I can put my finger on because there physical and I no longer have that ability. But for tasks that are more nebulous, that are not a physical manifestation I have no answers. I can see a disability in my hand as I type, I can also feel a disability in my mind as I strive to find words or thought or that damn singer name. Is it the product of an older mind or one that is partially disabled. Am I condemned to struggle with this disability or is it one that will clear in time or is time no longer my friend? Where or to whom do I turn for help or guidance with my questions? No one seems to have the answers I need or want answered.
So I turn to my writing to find some answers, to seek some relief from the questions I have. Maybe my blog will bring me the assistance I’m seeking, maybe some kindred souls will help me out of the fog. To be sure I have found friends, people who have come close to my heart and mind. As scary as this forum is I have found friends who are compassionate and warm and loving. In finding out about their struggles I find some answers coming along with more questions. In putting my mind out there, in putting me out there I’m taking a risk that some unfriendly mind will answer, that’s a risk that I’m will to chance. But I’m finding the rewards well worth the risk.


On a personal note I have to thank Lin and Christian for being so supportive and helpful in my continuing quest to find myself. I couldn’t have asked for better friends or more help than I’ve gotten from these two, thank you both.