Sunday, September 11, 2011

Cost Of War

This whole week leading up to Sept. 11, every time something comes on the tube I've switched to the other channel. I can't watch the airplanes crash into the Trade Center towers, I can't stand to watch it come down one more time, or watch as those workers are covered in that killing dust. It seems to me to be an orgy of sadness that is pointless. As a country we have done nothing to curb our addiction to oil. How many lives were wasted on both side, how many trillions of dollars have we spent, how many freedoms have we given up in the name of terror. I've got to shake my head at our collective foolishness that has lead us down this path. Take a look at this and just think for yourselves what this war has cost us. Cost of war.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Oops

Mean to post this one, done this spring. With my friend Vada who trusts my ideas and shares her's as well. Like the peaceful nature of this one. Thanks

Grass

Hey Dr. L. good hearing from you. September is not quite as full of doctor visits as I thought. I find that getting older is not at all for sissy. It involves a lot of plain old drudge work, seeing doctors, getting test... Couple of things I like are the medical students who do my work-ups. There all very serious and business like, very likeable and so young. Then there’s the grass.... I’m staying on the right side of it! Have a good day all.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Doctor Visits

As you may understand this month and the next one are going to be filled with doctor visits. When I get the chance to catch up I will. In meantime enjoy this photo.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

The Eye

Well I apologize once again reality has tunned this blog to health issues.
Recently I was mowing the yard at a friend’s house, being a cloudy day I didn’t wear my sunglasses, I did not wear my safety glasses either. As fate would have it a small piece of wood hit my eye, but no harm was done so I press on. The next morning I noticed that it took longer for my eye to wake up and get with the program. I put some drops in and really thought no more about it, like most men I put it out of my mind. A few day later again my eye was having trouble waking up but now I saw a haze around shiny objects. By mid-morning it would clear but I called my doctor and made an appointment.

A week later I saw my doctor, told her what had happened to my eye and wanted to know if I’d done serious damage. After the examination she told me I was right to come in there was something going on with my eye. Then for the next few minutes she let me sit there while she finished her notes. I was on pins and needles waiting for her to give me the bad news. She said that when she looked in my eye I had many tiny hemorrhages in the back of my eye. Still had 20/20 vision but I’d need to be followed by a specialist, made the appointment for the following month and gave my condition a name. Central retinal vein occlusion is one of the leading causes of blindness in older Americans. Not to worry I was told I still had perfect vision with my glasses.

The week before my appointment I had a scare and went in as an emergency patient, thought I saw bright lights and thought I had separated my retina. I hadn’t but I still needed to see the doctor specializing in CRVO, vision still 20/20. I saw her the following Tuesday, was told I was very lucky and we’d take some photos of my eye and go from there, vision still 20/20. Told it wasn’t as bad as she first though, keep taking my eye drops and come back in a month. I was very happy and went home and almost forgot about it till later in the month I was aware my vision was quite as good as it had been. On the next visit my vision was 20/30, I was told the treatment consisted of a shot in the eye. Visions of Clockwork Orange came into my head, all I could think of was this pretty lady coming at me with a needle for MY eye. Told me not to worry, we’d give it another month and see what my eye did.

Next appointment vision down to 20/40, I could no longer see clearly out of my right eye. I knew there was a car on my right side but I could no longer tell you what the license plate was. I couldn’t read with my right eye and focusing a camera you could forget about. Now we talked about the shot in earnest, she told me about a new drug that they’d just approved only drawback that it was $2000. Gulp! my Medicare would cover it, but lately I have a lot of health issues what would happen if I reached the donut hole? I decided I’d ask her the next week when I got the shot, in the meantime I turned to Google and YouTube to see what I was getting myself into. Found lots of literature on the drugs and the procedure, then saw the right way to get the shot and the wrong way. Saw what must have been an intern giving the shot, his hands we shaking so badly his assistant had to steady them. But it gave me a great overview to the procedure and answered a lot of my questions.

The following Tuesday I was ready, my vision was worse I knew and didn’t need to be told it was down to 20/50. Before I could even speak my piece about the cost of the medication she told me she was switching to the tried and true medication. I might need more shots, but the other stuff had too many side effects for her comfort to take the risk. How really nice that we were on the same page, still visions of Clockwork Orange were passing through my head seeing the instruments. After a quick check of my eyes, she prepared and disinfected my eye and gave me the shot. I couldn’t really see her stick the needle in my eye, but I saw her finger on the plunger; down, down, down it went shooting the medicine into my eye. Now I was truly blind in that eye, everything was absorbed into the haze. She cleaned my eye, gave me a prescription for drops and I was on my way.

Thank goodness I had a friend driving me, as a reward I took her to lunch at my favorite India food place. Then pick up my prescription and got home into the air conditioned coolness of my place and took a nap. My eye was driving me crazy, felt like I had eyelashes in there, as the medication to numb it wore off my eye throbbed. At lunch my eye started leaking blood and that got worse till later that afternoon I could almost feel it begin to drip. I squatted down to get something out of the crisper, something came over my eye and I almost called a cab to take me into the hospital. But after a few moments it cleared, I was ever so thankful that I had to go back for a test the next morning.

In the morning my vision began to clear slightly, I could focus with my right eye. Full of hope I went back for my appointment, the tech photographed my eye, showed me what was wrong and what they hoped I’d get. I ask if we could check the pressure in my eye, just for grins she said lets test your vision... almost back to 20/30. I could see the damn eye chart again, could read almost four lines down. I am trying to not get my hopes up too high, giving my eye a chance to rest and repair itself. Neither one is easy for me, went for a walk in the park, it was turtle day, watch as a big one glided over the creek bottom and I felt free of worry for the moment. Because of the drought I could cross the creek without getting wet, climbed the little hill I ran as a boy and explored till it got too hot and I needed to get under the air conditioner. Feel very peaceful now as I write this, I can see better not quite as well as I did before but now I have hope. Its been a really tough couple of months for me. More health issues are coming up, but I feel hopeful now that I can see better. May not last forever, but I have my friends and the people who care about me. I am a lucky man.













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Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Ghosts

My phone is infested with ghosts, long lost loves of my life calling in the middle of the night. I recognizes her voice at hello, memories came flooding back and even in my half daze sleep I knew it was her. We talked like it was last week when last we spoke, though a decade at least has passed. I can be hard on friends... though I still love them, to think they are making a major mistake. I’d thought I’d rather remember her as she was, entrapped in amber. That not how life is lived fortunately, my friend have vivid lives, dynamic ongoing lives, that what attracted me in the first place. Lives lived on the edge, thinking life might cut short, now the reality of our age and circumstance.

Like seeing yourself reflected in a mirror, this person know me, who I am, where I live no matter the address. She knows about me, the young me, the growing up me, has experienced the low me, the almost beaten me. Know the struggle I have endured, the mistake I have made, known the passion of the young, knows the successes and my failure, she being one I’ve regretted. I didn’t support her idea of marriage, going on instincts I decided I knew better than her in matters of love. No matter how it may have turned out I was wrong, I’ve regretted my mistake ever since. As I grow older I can see where I have failed my friends... now almost too late I am trying to make amends where I can, it’s my loss where I can’t.

Like a bolt out of the blue we reconnected, found her on one of those popular website’s, and made contact. But nothing beats hearing her voice, so alive, so full of memories, I hated having to catch up, tell her all the things we now share... how I now understand the losses she suffered and know the effects of life altering changes one endures. With a much greater empathy I know what she suffered, that knowledge gave me the strength to carry on while I lay paralyze in a hospital bed.

I knew her voice at hello, the half amused warm melodious tones, the compassion and love her voice held after all these years. I am truly blessed in life, to those people who I have chosen to be my friends so many years ago... even though I didn’t keep my end of the bargain. I love you all and I am truly sorry for my mistake in judgement, I know better now. Life doesn’t often give you many chances at do overs, I’m so happy to make amends where I can. Still I remember her voice.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Walking the Mall

Well I’ve finally fallen into the abyss, I’ve begun walking in the local mall... no dogs, no heat, no rain... no fun. Soon I’ll be nodding hello’s to other oldsters who walk the mall with me. The thing that strike me is how empty of business it is. Store after store, acre upon acre of failed business and no one to take up the slack.

I remember this mall from my childhood, remember riding there on my bike wide eyed at the man in the rocket suit and the carnival rides. My friend Roy who insisted that I was chicken for not riding with him, green and not with envy was he. Later I remember standing in line for Rolling Stones tickets in my teenage years. I remember the name change rolled out with great fan-fair when I was hired as a photographer documenting the affair. Now it’s showing its age as am I. The stores one by one have failed, its only a shadow of its former glory, one wonders how long they can afford the upkeep.

I feel a certain kinship with this mall, stores now standing almost empty as one by one my systems start that long slide into failure. In the grander scheme of things I’m a young sixty-three, I have my health for the most part, I have a job that I enjoy. But the same drive that told me in my mid-fifties to start looking and actually reading the signs that I wouldn’t be able to do the physical part of the job were showing. So now I’m in a better position that I was six years ago, although my business has failed with the new economy, I have some skills that I can use to my advantage. Unlike the mall that is just waiting for a buyer to tear it down and use the land to make stand alone businesses. I’m learning to transition into new more prosperous realms, I am developing new skills to keep active while not letting the old skill go fallow.

In this brave new world of ours where other sixty-something’s are dropping like flies, where even fifty-year olds are having a hard time coping I’m still working. Not at the money I was making, not at the level that I was used to, but I’m getting out there, meeting new people and doing my part to keep alive. I’m working with friends, marketing a product I am proud of for clients I’m proud to be associated with.

My vision for the future looks good, 20/20 or there about’s, and on a personal level my vision does seem to be as bad as first figured. Don’t mind telling you I was scared, but there’s reason for optimism. I keep seeing those little black spots (floaters), now I’m glad to say that sometime are birds flying high up. Sometime there just spot in my hardwood floors, sometime they turn out to have legs and are bugs! Going to keep eating those carrots while keeping busy, maybe they were right about masturbation, you will go blind, and fifty-three years later I seem to, least I didn’t get hairy palms! So all in all not a bad forecast! Now after ten years if we could only bring our troops home and give them a rest they so badly need!


P.S. I’m taking GenTeal eye drops, they’re a gel formula my eye doctor recommended. Very good drops.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

The Eyes Have It

I know I said no more comment about health or my stroke anymore, but I’ve had a scare. About a month and a half ago I was working on a friends lawn, fool that I am I didn’t wear eye protection because the dust mask fogged my glasses. She has a very sandy lot, the dust is something fierce. A small piece of wood flew up and hit my eye, didn’t think much of it and keep going. Then the mower died and I was much more concerned about that. Later that evening I noticed a soft blur to my right eye, I figured no big deal it’ll go away by morning. Still had the blur in the morning, had things to do and I used some drop and didn’t give it a second though.

A week later I decided that it hadn’t gotten better so I made an appointment with my eye doctor which I figured was about right for my eye, probably scratched the damn thing, no big deal. Now we’re about two, three week from the injury, I noticed that I had trouble getting the eye working in the morning. I saw a haze in my right eye, hard to open the eye as well first thing upon waking. Now I’m worried, think this is a bigger deal than just a scratched eye. I go to the doctor, wait while she does her thing, puts drops in my eyes and does some test that I didn’t think I did that well. She told me I did the right thing in seeing her, that she noticed something going on in my eye.... she has my attention now. I wait... and wait, while she goes through my chart and updates it...... I wait. Finally she turns and says when she looks into my right eye she can see small hemorrhages against the retina. Says I need to see a specialist very soon, not today but the sooner the better; say’s she’ll make an appointment.

Like most men I calculate the odds as her nurse calls to make my appointment. A month out, no big deal... I should get carrots the next time I’m at the market. She copy’s the information for me, I’m concerned but not worried... I can handle this. Getting home I call the friend with the offending yard, tell her about my appointment, she asks me why so long? Now my concern goes up a couple of notches, she tells me that if it was her eyesight she’d want to be seen as soon as possible. She has a really good point! I call the specialist, they can get me in a week early, I take it. It takes me a few days to realize that in addition to the hard to open, haze around the eye when I first wake, now I see a spider-web in my right eye. Very gossamer but black, darts away when I try to focus on it. It does not go away as I wake up and get moving. I turn to Google and find that it is a sign of a detached retina along with a bright flash of light which I don’t have. Panicked I call the specialist to hurry the appointment, hell I want to get in right away. No dice, the doctor doesn’t come in until Tuesday at the earliest so I have the weekend to go.

Now I don’t know about you, but when one thing goes wrong everything seems to follow. On Friday I break my glasses. Now I am truly fucked... I have blurry vision, see spider-webs in black, I have a new word processing program that I need to learn ASAP and on top of all that I now have to find out about my glasses. To make a long story short I don’t have to new glasses, they can order the frames. I got an emergency appointment with an eye doctor, when they put the drops in to dilate my eyes the cobwebs go away and I’m told by the doctor that tortured me that I am a very lucky man. Plus my frame came in the next day... I feel blessed. Still have to go see the retinal specialist on Tuesday but I go in feeling very lucky and very blessed. Wonders never cease!

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Women

I’ve always had a special love of pretty women. As far back as the fifth grade, I discovered that women, no matter their age could affect me and my judgement. I got to be a school crossing guard that year, had a badge and everything. One morning while helping the other kids cross the street safely a girl I knew from the library came up to cross. I was smitten with her, the way she walked, the way she talked and she was standing there next to me Well you could smell the brain cells frying, we were talking, I heard the mamma guard whistle and I step into the street to let the little girl cross. All should have been well, I mean she talked to me, but she was in the middle of the street crossing against the what little traffic there was when I figured out what happened. Or there was the time I was chosen first base umpire also in the fifth grade. My friend had slid into first base just ahead of the ball and I called him safe as the pretty young teacher, who was head umpire called him out. She came trotting out to confer with me, as I looked into her pretty face I knew I was doing wrong, but I just couldn’t contradict her... out he was Oh it wasn’t a pretty sight to be inside my head as I grew into adolescence and the view didn’t improve as I grew older.

As a young man I could be an asshole to those I loved, I won’t pretend different. I could be difficult, opinionated and wanted my way most of the times, but I could be charming and sweet as well. I tried to live the life I’d be taught by my parents to live and they ended up divorced. Monogamy wasn’t my thing though I tried my best, I guess the grass was always greener on the other side. Finally I grew up enough to realize I could love someone in small doses, but she had to be strong enough to have her own life that was important enough to her. The best sort of relationship was to live close together, see each other most evenings, but have our own places too. When it seemed like a good idea I could be monogamous, but only if my partner was also. I was prone to long term relationships, of doing all those couple things, but having the space to do mine.

Now what you ask does this have to do with photography, not much. But I am approaching my sixty-third birthday in a few weeks and this is what you get. I’m reminiscing over my pasts as I look to the future. I’ve reach the point where I’m like a dog chasing a bus, what will I ever do if I manage to catch the damn thing. But I still have a little chase left in me and a deep appreciation for the beauty of women. Like the bus it’s not about catching it, it’s all about enjoying the chase after it

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Tax Day

“ The camera just helps you show other people what you see.” Greg Iles in Dead Sleep






The best tax day ever, a lovely nude model, great conversation and a home made meal to end on. Then because I shoot film I had a week of waiting, hoping the film wasn’t too out of date, that the processing would be right. Nothing short of birth could be as difficult as waiting to get that film back in my hot little hands. Now for the time I live for, the time to let my work sink in... to study every little frame and find the treasures. I can breath again The time before digital wasn’t easy, terror was a day in day out part of the job. Certainly there was polaroid to ease that terror, but until that film came back from the lab you were on tender hooks. Once you could see the contacts, once you could actually see the film to know it was alright life just wasn’t the same. Film came in different flavors too, grain you had to plan for and it was on every frame. There was a certain level of skill involved, you couldn’t “fix” that in Photoshop.

I hadn’t picked up a camera in over a year and I was plenty rusty. I hate to admit it but I had trouble know exactly how my cameras worked, which button to push in what order to get the damn thing to rewind. Then there was the lovely young woman semi-nude or nude before me waiting. Honesty is the best policy, I told her a story about the first time I shot a model. She was one of the cool girls in high-school, very blonde, very pretty and impossible beyond me. I got so nervous I almost dropped the screw in lens I had in my hand. I told her how I was thinking, considering the best lens to use with her. The model I had before me laughed, I shared a secret that somehow made us both human with all the failing of humans, made what we were trying to accomplish more real. We could relate to one another, trust one another. Made the fact that one of us was nude so much more comfortable in mind and sprit.







I love working with nude models, of getting those arms and legs just so, the get the look I want with the feel I want, to be able to share with the viewer how I
see this person before me... what I have discovered in her. I ask a lot of my model’s, I ask for there trust to get the image I see in my mind. I ask for the latitude
to try something so very personal to see how it might look, how an idea I have might translate to film. It’s a bond we share... it’s a trust that she is allowing me and my vision. All of my models are lovely young women, my age give me a different perspective on age. My most recent models are in the thirties, a few years ago the average age was early twenties. I like this age, more mature, more comfortable in their skin and they know something about life.

Then after we share a meal together, something I’ve made especially for her, time to decompress, to get back to the every day world. This young lady and I have shared something special, we’ve shared a vision... ideas that we both bring to the shoot. Is it something to change the world... probably not, but just the act of creating something that didn’t exist before feels so good.

Model: Vada

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Vision

I recently posted a comment on Model Mayhem about the above image, as expected I got some really nasty comments including one accusing me of having misogynistic tendency. Saying I had real problems with the female anatomy she added she was sorry for me. My comments were to the effect that I didn’t want a women who was too sensuously built, it would detracted from my vision. I maintain those views, all the focus would have been the way she was physically build. The image was for an erotic show I was in, my statement was, among other things that here was the ultimate goal of all the erotic art. I wanted a female who was almost androgynous, someone who had that compact look to her, here fleshy wouldn’t work.

Which leads me to another one of my questions, why can’t we keep a civil tone to out discussions, especially on a site that’s given over to the celebration of art. I obviously chose the wrong forum for my comments, giving people more credit for intelligence than they deserve. The site does have some of the very talented models though, but in retrospect not as many as one would hope. I also commented on how everyone it seemed shaved, that to look wasn’t special anymore, it has lost its appeal. I noted that more and more models seem to agree with me because they have gone back to a more trimmed mode. Well I’ll let you imagine how that comment was taken

I myself have taken great umbrage at comments on profession of drywall made on a fellow blogger site. As I posted, I have hung my share of drywall, it’s a great way to keep food on the table and a roof over ones head. Then I reread the comments that had raised my ire and discovered that the kid was only in his early twenty’s so excuses could be made for him. But I didn’t demean him, I took exception to his comments but not to the person who made them. I know that there are those who will see this as a backhand slap at him, but age does play an important part of our perception.

Maybe I’m just getting old and set in my ways... that could be. In my own defense the older I get the more other people get set in their ways (tongue firmly in cheek). I’m proud to say I have a number of young friend who help keep me in my place and fixed in time. It helps keeps you balance in life, keeps you from feeling left out and jealous about that age... reminds you why its good to be the age you are and not having that drama in your life again. Although I keep making the same mistake over and over again, but I find new ways to make the same mistakes. That is at least some kind of progress I imagine, proof positive that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Crazies

Pro-English, A.C.L.J., Troops Needed on the Boarder and The Heritage Foundation... all the crazies are sending me mailing like I once got credit card application. At least with the application the was a don’t bother me page I could register on. And each of them have their own focused hatred for some special group of people, the most popular seems to be Muslims. Each group of crazies seem to have a 501-c, mailing privileges so they don’t pay squat to spew their hatred. I dutifully open each piece of shit they send, put all that shit back in their envelopes and mail it to them “postage due”.... makes me feel better at least.

Before my doctor moved her offices it was located at a medical center along with the hospital. Lots of East Indian’s work there, some wore head-scarves, some may have been Muslim as well. I didn’t know or care because I was getting the test I needed. As an added bonus I could ask where the best Eastern food was, where is the place they like to eat. I got all sorts of tips most of which I never heard of before, the India places were the best. When it comes to eating were are all one race... the human race

So imagine my utter surprise when one morning while having coffee a group of people sat down next to me, a couple of whom had head-scarves. Without even thinking about it I started checking them out looking for suspicions packages they might leave behind. Only then did I recognize the absurdity of my reactions and started laughing. These were healthcare professionals, maybe some were doctors and a few were obliviously students not bombers for heaven sake It’s a sign of the time we live in, the fear that’s generated by the media that conditions us all to think that way.

Which bring to mind Juan Williams, of his remarks that got him fired from NPR. I certainly don’t agree with the racist sentiments that regularly pass for news at FOX NEWS. But as you can see by my story above we all can make mistake in judgement. My momentary fear, my momentary lapse of judgement was a private affair, his wasn’t. So that’s the prism we all look at the world today, Muslim equals terrorist, plain and simple.... simply wrong. I feel like we target Muslims because we have been conditioned to react that way by the media. The fact that they’re so easily identified make our suspicions of them so much easier.
When Timothy Mc Veigh murdered all those people in Oklahoma we didn’t start dragging young white men with short hair off planes, we didn’t have an instinctive fear of sitting next to them at coffee shops , not cast so much as a glance in their direction. I think that we fail as human beings, we do a disservice to the whole human race by giving in to these fears. Unknowingly, without thinking about them, without questioning where our fears really reside. No one likes to think about being blown up in a building, having a plane crash into where you are innocently working. These are the acts of two or three madmen who hate the system, who hate humanity and not a whole class of people. Personally I feel that these for the most part are poor, uneducated people with no hope of a better future, no hope of a brighter tomorrow. It’s long past time that we got a handle on this idea and start working on the problems we all face.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Keep In Touch


I am the most fortunate of men, I don’t collect “friends”, but I’m really blessed that most of my models keep me in mind when their address changes. One young model, she was twenty when we shot, took great umbrage at some advice I was giving her. She no longer keeps in touch, much to her determent; if I have no way of keeping in touch I can’t let you know how the images we created are being used. I’m religious about letting my model’s know when I use an image on my blog, on various sites and for any shows I enter. My feeling is we created this work together, you are an integral part of what we did, you are entitled to know (even years later) how and where your images are being displayed.
Any advice is freely given, I’m not offended if you don’t take it to heart don’t listen it’s your life not mine, my world will not stop. I really enjoy the women who pose for me, who take the time and interest to make images with me. Some work much better with my overall vison, it seems like second nature to them. I take my time to get an idea of who this person is that I am going to photograph. Usually we have coffee, I show them my book so there are no surprises when we work. An important part of the way I work is to get to know something about them, how else can I capture the essence of that person. So many of the girls that I work with are young, twenty-something. Most still think they work/live in a vacuum, that no one will look up there photos or get an opinion of their character from the images they lend themselves to.
I on the other hand have lived a goodly long time, I no longer think I’m invincible, I know that actions beget reaction no matter how private you may think those actions are. We don’t live in a bubble of our own choosing, the internet has forced us to live a very public life. I’m very conscious of the images I am posting, I want for my model's to be able to make that choice as well even though I have a release. When I am posting to Facebook I know what’s appropriate as far as they are concerned. I have learned the hard way that for my model appropriate for one venue isn’t appropriate for them. I do not wish to embarrass them in front of their family or friends.
This blog is different, here I may show the kind of work that I do unedited, but it’s not likely that any members of my models family will see the posts. Here it’s a more private setting, my friend come here to view my work and to read what I have to say. Just as you have come here to see my work and read my words/thoughts as well. Nothing gives me more pleasure then to have someone comment on my blog, or for it to spur other thought. I love that free flow of ideas and comment that are well thought out. So please keep visiting my site and by all means, keep in touch.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

The Littlle Deaths


My thanks to my friend Carla Johnson for her post on “La Petite Mort”, the Little Deaths as an orgasm is known is a subject long though to not be mentioned in polite company. I leave the final word to my friend, I want to talk about my photographic experience with the orgasm as seen above. I met this young lady at a modeling show I attended. She was very green and needed someone to invest the time with her and show her the ropes. Long story short we did at least six or seven shoots before she was comfortable enough with herself and me before we could shoot so intimately. When we started she was very nervous about what would happen. I took her through her first mini-orgasm, then she got more relaxed, I could see the tension go out of her body. Remember I shoot film and still had a third of a roll left when she told me to get ready. Whoa, whoa I told her to change your rhythm, let me finish this roll and then you can come. At this point I felt like I was a part of her orgasm, I was asking her to draw it out so I could get the shots I wanted. I’m not going to say I hurried, but I knew she was ready to get some release. I ask her to get comfortable, to change position slightly and to feel it building. Then I reloaded my camera, I said OK kiddo go for it. I could almost hear her thinking I wonder what he’s getting, then the pre-orgasm started and she was gone. I got close ups of her face, her body, all the important parts. I dragged the shutter, I was trying to get the beauty of the moment, but without the graphic details. I want to make it clear that she is a nice girl, not someone who masturbates for just anyone. After her release I got some nice shots of her coming down from the high of it. For minutes after that she’d shudder, those post-orgasm shudders. In a strange way I think that she was please that she’d be able to climax, so too there was a certain pleasure in getting off with someone watching. I’m really proud of the shots I got and the trust that grew out of that experience. I’ve marveled at the capacity that women have for wave after wave of pleasure and the small role I may play.

Thursday, February 10, 2011



Several years ago I had a gig for an entertainment facility, had a pass that would let me go anywhere, anytime. I’d do the mundane shots of different parts of the facility, party’s they had. Sometimes they’d overlap so I’d do a heavy metal group. These groups actually filled the hall better than the more middle of the road types. So I just play, drag the shutter, play with my flash to ambient light ratio. It was so much fun to see what magic I could produce. Shot real film so I couldn’t see the results instantly.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Nipple


Like shadow they gather..., grackles on the wing searching, searching..., the wings flutter down. Gathering in flocks, your negative thoughts. Squawking, noisily hostile thoughts that have no real merit, no basis in fact. Your fear stand out like two cold nipples on a warm day, longingly wishing to be touch.




14 Jan 2011

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Fifth Anniversary



Those of you who currently read this blog, and I’m familiar with one lovely lady out there, will know I just celebrated my fifth anniversary of my stroke. This year I won’t be writing as much about that choosing to concentrate on my art, and my writing. Like many of you last year was the worst I’ve experienced in my life-time. I don’t think I opened my camera bag once last year, sure I took some cell phone photo’s, but nothing to really satisfy my soul. In addition I closed down what business was left and for the first time in many years I filed a normal tax return. At the time it was a most painful step, logical to say the least but still....

I started working with a friend I’ve had for a long time, first started work with him in New York many years ago. We developed quite the friendship, I was invited to his house, met his wife and children, and came for all the holidays plus backyard barbeques. Long story short, he and his wife have divorced and he moved back to the Northeast. A lot of my planning involved my computer work, learning new things and just playing with the latest innovations. Another part of the equations was to find a friend who had moved on to a new business and needed a hand. Although divorce wasn’t a part of my master plan, it sure played an important part of this plan.

After he was moved out of the house he found himself broke, but with an advertising idea that looked like it could work. He had a number of high profile contacts so all that was needed was some legwork, research, and someone he could trust to share in the business. Someone who had the time to invest, had the desire to make a go of it, and who didn’t really care about the money at first. We started with one client, I took the editorial we had and made some small adjustments to it, I’d find the talent’s website’s and would make their bio information fit our needs. I proofed read everything, and I even had a hand in keeping the people who were working on the project with us stay focused.

We picked up our second account and then our third; tiny steps to be sure, but all the while we could see the economy slowly improving. So my financial health is improving, I’m making almost enough money that soon I’ll be able to shoot again. In the meantime I’m working on prints of my work. I’ve started refining a new book that features only the work I’m interested in, the kind of images I want to shoot so I can show models which direction I’m headed in and if they would like to invest their time and talent perfect. Don’t know how far I’ll get this year, baby- steps on the road to a full recovery. Along the way I’ve picked up several friend who believe as I do, who are interested in sharing the passage with me, who help fire my ideas and beliefs. Some young people who have such a zest for their art that it’s contagious. Maybe that’s all we need in life, to make it more fulfilling, sharing the spice that makes life worth living, that brings out our passions, so that we remember what it was once like to be young. This year I plan on writing about that transition, getting fire up again, and getting my butt in gear. I want to wish all you readers a wonderful new year full of the spice for life.