Wednesday, October 31st, 2007
For those who haven’t been to my house, I live with my friend Kathy in Park Slope in Brooklyn. Our building only has two apartments in it, ours comprising the bottom two floors. Our bedrooms are upstairs, along with a bathroom and a middle foyer-type room that’s basically a lobby we stuck our giant couch in. Downstairs is our living room, kitchen, the other bathroom, laundry machines, and our back yard. Our living room has been our main decoration focus, but since it’s pretty much covered now we’re starting on the upstairs middle room. We painted it a pumpkin-y terra cotta (gay) when we moved in, and there’s some nice furniture up there, but nothing on the walls yet. So I bought poster-sized prints of two of my favorite portraits to hang next to each other in big black frames: Thomas Gainsborough’s “The Blue Boy” and Thomas Lawrence’s “Pinkie, Sarah Barrett Moulton,” which looks like it was made to be a companion to “Blue Boy” even though they differ in artist and by a quarter of a century. Apparently they also hang side by side at the Huntington in San Marino, California. I did not know this until Wikipedia told me so. Maybe I am an art genius. Or maybe I am just a victim of predictable art classes.
Tuesday, October 30th, 2007
Living single and missing something but knowing you can’t… ugh. So many stupid things that can happen. Will power, please! It’s so difficult, though, when you want to share your successes with someone. Exciting things happening all around but not being able to share it and feeling like nobody cares but you (or people who don’t matter or don’t know you or want to know you just so they can advance themselves or try and sleep with you just to have done it) so what is the point? Have a thousand dollars to go do this. Here’s five hundred to push some buttons. Show up. Except I don’t want to show up and I’d rather live under the stairs. The only good times I have any more are when I am doing things that bored the living shit out of me years ago. Or when I am bringing the party to me. Last summer felt like nine months packed into three. This summer was work.
* * *
For a couple months I have been mostly vegetarian. I eat meat when I feel like it, or when it’s a lot more convenient, but mostly I’ve been avoiding it. For health reasons, I guess. I don’t really know. I noticed that I didn’t particularly feel more energetic, but I definitely did feel less lethargic than normal after meals. A veggie sandwich from Subway for lunch didn’t knock me out in the afternoon the way a cheeseburger would. Usually when I ate meat on this kick it’s been chicken, mostly in takeout.
Last night we caved and bought giant meatballs for spaghetti at the amazing Italian food market on the way home, and while it was the perfect dinner for a cold Monday night, I pretty much became a quadriplegic. I was a whale beached on the living room couch, and it took major effort to force myself to clean up around the house and do some photo work.
Today my pants are not extraordinarily tight, but they are nice pants (not jeans) and skinny, and the waist is cut so that no matter what I do, you can see everything going on in vital areas. Today on the F train I may as well have been standing in my underwear.
Tuesday, October 16th, 2007
LOOK AT CHELSEA. Hot damn. It seems like only yesterday we were trying to learn the dances from the High School Musical DVD and taking Alice in Wonderland pictures with her hair tied up and her braces still on. And now the bitch’s face is going to be in Sephora stores across the land.
Monday, October 15th, 2007
It’s been a while since I wrote anything readable.
I wanted to mention something. When the L Magazine asked me how I got into photographing New York nightlife, I said something about taking pictures at parties of my friends and it evolving from there. Which is true. But I (somehow, stupidly) forgot to mention that I wouldn’t be anywhere close to doing what I do today without Sarah Ultragrrrl Lewitinn Bocephus L’orange hiring me to photo her party. That was my first break into a regular gig taking party pictures for something other than my own amusement. And she wrote about me several times over the last couple years when I was doing photos, when I had a new album out, etc. Glowing things that made me very happy. So thank you, of course, and infinitely, to Sarah.
Speaking of the L thing, they had a supergay Factory nightlife awards ceremony thing which I narrowly avoided by instead doing the Denimhunt.com launch party at Don Hill’s that same night last Tuesday. Zach (the L awards organizer) is great, I have always really liked him. But the issue was, I think, completely insane. In the print version of the magazine there were three judges listed. Those three judges (and the parties they run) somehow managed to sweep Best Party, Best Nightlife Icon, Best Promoter, and Best Venue. So the judges just happened to be the best everything in all of New York nightlife? I definitely agree that all three of them are very good at what they do, and deserving of nightlife awards if nightlife awards are going to be given out, but even they can’t argue that the whole thing wasn’t ridiculous. [And I am not saying this because I didn’t win best photographer – I have eyes, and anyone with eyes knows that Nikola is clearly the winner there.]
This is all so stupid.
I like collecting things, I like making little collections of things I have produced.
Otherwise. I was dating someone for a few months, was really into it, had some bad stuff happen and decided I couldn’t deal with it so we broke up. Didn’t stop being friends. Then after some time, we sorta got back together very briefly and I caught him again doing what broke us up in the first place, so that was it. It’s no fun not trusting someone. He didn’t cheat, didn’t lie when caught, didn’t even do anything particularly horrible. But he can’t stop this thing that he does, and I don’t want to deal with disappointment over and over and over.
This weekend I shot a bunch of zombies for a Halloween promo thing for a bit-o-media that I enjoy reading. All of a sudden in the last few months I’ve been getting really fun, impressive, and steady photo jobs, and I’ve been working a whole lot more. Usually, including prep and editing time, I end up working 60 hour weeks. Except fashion week, which was perhaps triple digits. This is tiring and it’s making my eyes all wrinkly, but it’s fun and it’s good, because I am making some savings for the winter and for new equipment. I have my eye on new computers and new lenses.
I am poking around at some new songs of my own, but nothing much has happened recently. I am remixing some things, most notably my darling Reni Laine. Need to buy a new music computer so I can do things easily instead of making machinery from the 90s work in 2007. I keep putting things off.
Tuesday, October 2nd, 2007
I remember middles of nights and
the things I did in them.
It’s best to make Plans in those times, twiddle
your fingers and write or sing about your-
self, but not to follow through until the Morning.
Because…
you know…
you’re gonna make bold statements.
No matter how romantic they sound in your head,
or how perfect that song is,
once the sun comes up you’re no longer the
sexiest thing on Earth;
you’re just someone who
has to get to work.
