Won't you please, get down on your knees?

2009-02-18T22:52:00.000-08:00

2009-02-17T23:50:00.001-08:00

Change is coming.

2009-02-17T20:00:00.000-08:00

I think 'dearwhore' comes off as too caustic and inflammatory. I suppose thats probably how I meant it in the first place, but nowadays it just doesn't seem as internally topical. Perhaps I am not as angry or bitter as I was when that came to mind.

Let's be frank...

Part of me was still thinking of that one that got away. writing to that one that got away. Even these days I still find myself shedding that dead skin. It can't be helped. I wanted so badly to be told I'm not bad. Just a symptom, you know? It goes back all the way to irrigation. Goes all the way back to rosebushes on Sunday morning (an early early memory). It was nobodies fault. What could anyone do? We deal with things how we can.

I guess I am just not that angry anymore. I guess I'm just a baby fawn.

myself as a devoured fawn

2009-02-16T23:00:00.000-08:00

I am not feeling well. And I have the best tactics for not dealing of anyone I know. I only know a few people. I don't know anybody. Who am I? such basic qualms, never ending. Laughable. The trying starts now, so I ran away. Stream of consciousness puke. Gets me nowhere. Safer bet than actual attempts. Back to square one. It's not all that bad. I am a fawn in the meadow is all, cowering in fear. Try and catch me. Shaky legs never stop buckling. You win. I am devoured. Well, the death is not so bad, its the digestion that I can't stomach. Never ending.

Myself as an egg, unaware...

2009-02-15T23:03:00.000-08:00

Frayed edges supporting the traverse between two points elevated above a fall

2009-02-13T19:15:00.001-08:00

2009-02-12T13:41:00.000-08:00

Intellectualization, if dull and vacant of any emotive response, shatters the perceived world of what I consider important contemplation and exercise. Intellectualization, if beyond my ability to truly comprehend, if over my head and far beyond what I am 'smart' enough to understand, makes me feel inferior to the world I strive to consider. included in this convoluted nothing is a visualization of this schema (see attachment).

feelings are dangerous. And I do not understand. I am a boy stuck between the hard place of misguided desire for intellect and a stunted youth without a voice for my feelings.

Abstract List of Interesting Things:

2009-02-06T11:37:00.000-08:00

Historical Mythologies
Contemporary Mythologies
Interconnected-ness of temporal existence as related to history, society, life, death, love, hate, you, me, them, us
Heidegger's Broken Hammer
Or The World Revealed
Natural phenomenon
Aurora Borealis
Social Phenomenon
Groupthink
Historical Phenomenon
Repetitive Nation States
Foucault-dian histories of thought
Moral ambiguity
Ethical ambiguity
individual ambiguity
Aesthetically narrow minded awareness
Blindness
Deafness
Paralysis
Fear
Fear of death
Being split open
Execution
The Wrongly Accused
Guilty walking free
Ouroboros
Hiroshima
The Extended Mind
Expanded Consciousness
Lobotomy
Nietzsche
Syphilis
Melville
Anonymity
Dostoevsky
Depression
Ecclesiastes
David and Goliath
Daniel in the Lions Den
Jonah in the Whale
Walking on Water
Belief
Miracles
Doubt
Hubris

Altogether Now

2009-02-05T13:58:00.000-08:00

clap you hands. Forthrightness is lost on me. Hieroglyphics here. I wanna bathe in you. and you and you and you. Highly exercised are these neural pathways I suppose. Or LARGE this cultural leviathan? Both? More? Can we handle it? Not as we are? Accept the inevitable? These are truly the last days? Tuck your head between your knees, try to put it in your mouth. Paradoxical is this notion of not caring, needing to, needing others to. How will we survive? Please don't leave me behind. I have a beautiful neck.

contemporary thought

2009-01-31T00:03:00.000-08:00

Humvee tears can't give anything up. strangeness in our hands. tapping and flicking and pinching and rubbing and scratching and picking and gripping. Christian mysticism might not be cutting it.
This is true? Probably. In a lot of ways? I'm afraid so. Is there anything salvageable? God is a historical construct. I am told, as some deep part of myself I am unable to understand whispers secrets I cannot hear. I might be wrong. misguided
your hand reaching down unconsciously fingering notebook dimples. Say it isn't so mysterious stranger. this proves nothing. Heatstroke heartache. Who is happy?
A house of cards is so obviously an illustration of this gluttonous cultures inability to sustain. it seems foolish to have to say. what more? some effigy of the towers we built that could not stand forever? a monument to the multiple phallus's doomed for failure. our human desire. our human weakness. our human temporary. only, they are actually really hard to make.

'never never gonna give you up, no I'm never, ever gonna stop; never ever gonna quit, cause quittin just aint my schtick'

2009-01-10T00:02:00.001-08:00

ahh no bother.
and so what about bukowski.
he cheated too.

there it was
but I forgot.

some record of this
should exist.

because there is only
a small amount
to remember.

2009-01-09T18:15:00.000-08:00

2008-12-01T19:25:00.000-08:00

works without faith
Control trying
let your guard
down

What is it like
up there?
out there?
in there?
the void,
so overused.

I can't tell
about your heart.
Maybe its beating
maybe not.
What about mine?

Such effort,
doing nothing.

PS

2008-10-22T20:01:00.000-07:00

We are all fumbling for the right words to say...

2008-10-03T12:08:00.000-07:00

Im no good with answers.
I have bad questions
asked earnestly.
and everything I do,
feels perfectly self indulgent.

An aside

2008-09-12T20:44:00.000-07:00

gosh. you sure know how
to make a gal feel special.
like a damp stuffed toy.

says judith.

Blindspot 37

2008-08-24T14:35:00.001-07:00

The image on the cover of the last issue of Blindspot by Hannah Whitaker is astounding.

2008-08-20T14:03:00.000-07:00

pain cliche
a pain in the neck
a cramp in the leg
a cosmic constipation
problematic but not
a problem persay
murky mucky fuck
i bust my ass all day
can't you at least
have dinner ready
when my sphincter
arrives
can't this line
move any faster
pain relationships
slave and master
needy needed cream
holes
dirty toilety enema
crusades
pain teachers
psychic muscle
workouts.
assfilled meatpoles
o stinkyfuck
bouts of viagra
psychosis
can't you cum
any faster
won't you be
my master

2008-08-18T15:20:00.000-07:00

I am standing still. It's like I just woke up. A bad dream lingers; blackhole hovers at the edge of my mind.
Last Nights Dream:
I was observer and participant. Not characters or people or faces, but some sense of being I can't explain. Dueling egos slashing each other with razor blades and vanishing into shadows. Cornfields and darkness and dirt. Locker rooms, melting metal, and fierce battle. My ego was afraid and outmatched and determined to win. My ego was strong and cunning and knew the outcome. And much trickery, pervasive like a game. A magic I had no chance against. I had lost. A coffin being dragged into infinity with ego trapped inside. Long arms wrapping themselves around, Hands pulling ego down. Screams with no sound. Hands and arms bulging wood and splitting flesh until only hands and arms were left.

O Blackhole!

2008-08-17T12:00:00.000-07:00

Divide my molecules
ease my mind
I would rather face
the negation of
existence. Than
dwindle over time.

what lonely death
life had in store...
but then you came,
blackhole.
and now I know.

who cares
if my ipod goes
through the wash,
and still works?
I'd give all
the dark matter
in my soul
for a real
miracle.

2008-08-13T14:16:00.000-07:00

Model baby
Cream my pants,
Dont stop hurting...

I'm a clone with memory
is all.
Remembering
is all.

Don't think about clones
they have no souls.

UK Collective

2008-08-08T15:19:00.000-07:00

Check out this UK photocollective: Unseen Contemporary Photography. I particularly liked Luke White's Series on Roller Coasters.

Ernest Stanley

2008-08-07T20:21:00.000-07:00

May 24, 2006
Called Aunt Cindy's house where he had been living since she drove out to Orange County to pick him up off the streets 2 years ago. I remember it was the day after I graduated high school that I moved out of her house. It was the day after that when she went to go get him. He spent that night sleeping in the room I had occupied for four years.

Well, Cindy sent her birthday wishes. I asked if my dad was around...

He had left in the middle of the night 3 weeks previously without saying a word to anyone, and no-one thought to say a word to me. He had been preparing for a while, paying off the RV he planned to hit the road with. I remember the last time I saw him he had spoken of his plans to leave soon; said the time was getting close, time to leave Cindy's backyard trailer...I told him not to leave without saying goodbye. Made him promise. Made sure he had my phone number.

Ezra-Loyal

2008-08-07T17:52:00.000-07:00

Misha Ridder

2008-08-07T17:44:00.000-07:00

I am drawn to Misha Ridder's landscape work.

O Judith

2008-08-06T18:48:00.000-07:00

Where are you
going now?

Take me with you.
Drift, You're making
Me wet; Your bloating
My corpse. Your
Sinking my ship.
Midnight sky,
Crash land
Beam me up.
Draw my blood.

At least
Let's try
To be good.

99 Rooms

2008-07-31T14:38:00.000-07:00

Combining Graffiti, Photography, Digital Editing, and Audio, 99 Rooms is one of my favorite online projects.

Done back in 2004 by 4 collaborators Kim Koester, Richard Schumann, Stephan Schulz and Johannes Buenemann; if you have the time I would highly recommend taking the time to explore 99 rooms.

A history in envelopes

2008-07-28T19:44:00.000-07:00

For a lack of childhood memories.

Filling in my own blanks. More to come.

2008-07-28T19:00:00.000-07:00

Apricot neck,
Afternoon delight?
Times when you are serious,
Superb.
Rape absolutely.
Times when you know
Oh would I explore,
Resolutely. Or maybe
Drive desire into
Frenzy. Waiting.
Anticipating.

Look up in the
Ceiling.
Foamy mouthed,
Eyes rolled back.
Reeling.

Or nothing.
Shut the door,
Turn the lights off
Cut the cord.
A caged up
Feeling.

Summertime eyes
Do you know
What you do?

Like you

2008-07-25T18:28:00.000-07:00

I'm a whore too.

Vito Acconci

2008-07-25T12:12:00.001-07:00

Pinar Yolacan

2008-07-24T21:39:00.000-07:00

Pinar Yolacan's work very much disturbs me. I like it a lot.

Polaroid Possibilities

2008-07-24T14:53:00.000-07:00

Saying good bye to magic. But what can you do?
Boo-Hoo

I'm Yours

2008-07-24T04:51:00.000-07:00

To whores it may concern,
Quit the drain. Your fault
My system's about to crash.
Overload dear whore,
Fierce Sexually.
Scary.
I could hardly not see
The lack of Responsibility.
And now about to dream
With that Leg, and those thighs,
That face, and her name
Sewn inside.

To whores it may concern,
Quit sending me
Lonliness and memories.
Quit taking the obvious
Obligatory Grind.
Dear whores,
I'm afraid I find,
I want more
Than our fluids
Mixed. Then our
Ugly bump. Then our
Fucking gorilla teeth!
Patience,
There's time.

To whores it may concern,
I can't pretend regular
"Let me buy you a drink"
Operations. I want inside.
But reticence and pride,
Reticence and pride...
Sigh.
Dear whores,
What's the use
If we aren't both glue?
Don't you see?
It's always me that gets
Stuck on you.

IS ANYBODY OUT THERE?

2008-07-22T23:47:00.000-07:00

Sincerely

2008-07-21T18:34:00.000-07:00

Dear Whore,
So you know,
my fault;
mostly.
Can't help it now,
no solution.
Lost too but
not fair:
always was.
So were you.

Mathew Scott

2008-07-21T18:00:00.000-07:00

I know the Academy of Art University has a soso reputation but check out Mathew Scott's website (an academy alumni); despite a lack of grounded focus, there are some real great images to be found.

Ahndraya Parlato

2008-07-21T17:38:00.000-07:00

Apparently this lady lectures at CCA but I have never heard of her until now. Her Site has some pretty strong work. I particularly wish I had thought of sewing my feet together first.

A favorite scene.

2008-07-19T19:04:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else think I kind of look like jason schwartzman or am I just living vicariously?

2008-07-18T18:19:00.000-07:00

After Great Pain
by Emily Dickinson

After great pain a formal feeling comes--
The nerves sit ceremonious like tombs;
The stiff Heart questions--was it He that bore?
And yesterday--or centuries before?
The feet, mechanical, go round
A wooden way
Of ground, or air, or ought,
Regardless grown,
A quartz contentment, like a stone.

This is the hour of lead
Remembered if outlived,
As freezing persons recollect the snow--
First chill, then stupor, then the letting go.

Humble Arts Foundation

2008-07-18T17:37:00.000-07:00

A nice place to spend some time.

lullaby.

2008-07-18T02:20:00.000-07:00

My cum was bittersweet tonight.

I find it difficult to close my day, even when it is a good one.
I must be afraid of tomorrow.

2:17am.
unsatisfied.

PS. I think the part of my life I find the most lonely and repulsive is not being able to say goodnight to anyone. I can tolerate the rest but I stay awake just to avoid that.

There was a time...

2008-07-18T00:30:00.000-07:00

Near fatal suicide efforts reportedly change the victims lives forever thereafter; they often claim that they are no longer the person they were before their attempt. As I am scanning all this old work it's kind of funny to see how I have changed in the last couple of years. I realize I haven't changed very much, except that a lot of what was unimpressive to me and the stuff that I wasn't going for then is what stands out now as I look back.

I wish I could almost die and then live.

History is an Illusion

2008-07-17T21:42:00.000-07:00

Maybe the only time I have ever come close to empathizing and understanding the past is once in high school. A holocuast survivor visited and talked about his experiences fleeing from the nazi's. I remember that it wasn't a very sensational story other than the fact that his family had to entirely abandon thier home and flee europe. No big deal...

And compared to others, maybe not. But there was something in being in front of someone affected by 'history.' someone personally touched by something I can only understand through pictures and books (which is no kind of understanding). I could come out and touch this man, ask him a question, get an answer. He existed in front of me and he existed 'back then.' More so, he was affected by 'back then'. The link was more than second hand.

I wonder if historians can ever give a damn about what they study if this kind of link doesn't exist. In order to have the kind of empathy that can foster understanding, it seems like a link would be required. Would someone like Ann Fessler care if she hadn't been personally affected by adoption? And I guess that is the question: Can any of use truly understand anything without first being personally affected?

You can find more WWII era Kodachromes Here

SeeSaw

2008-07-17T17:47:00.000-07:00

I came across a really well produced online photo magazine. In particular I was impressed by Henrik Dunker's photographs of Latvia.

The relationship between culture and color is something I haven't considered too much before. After thinking about it for a bit, it's surprising more work these days isn't exploring this relationship.

I suppose earlier photographers work, such as Egglestons dealt with this, but in his case, the dynamic seems too separate to be intended. Egglestons use of color does not seem to be as consciously attached to the culture specificity of his time and place. On the one hand his photographs are about the use of color, and on the other they about time and place and a society; a disconnect between color and culture.

Egglestons photo's are about Egglestons way of seeing the world in color, whereas Duncker seems to be responding to a cultural use of color at large; the way the world around him sees in color. I don't think this is a particularly Latvian question either. Take one look at an american apparel add and it's obvious that color/cultural relationships exist elsewhere as well.

2008-07-17T10:20:00.000-07:00

Haven't seen this movie yet. Heard good things though.

Berkeley Pacific Film Archive
Thursday July 17
8:30 pm
5$

Todd Hido Suicido

2008-07-15T23:38:00.000-07:00

Found this on a Different blog. NYtimes article on suicide featuring work by photographer Todd Hido.

Becoming lighter.

2008-07-15T23:19:00.000-07:00

We are discussing what it is like to fall out of an airplane.
We aren't actually ready to die.
We think we are nihilists and we cream apocalypse.
We talk tsunami wet dreams.
But we aren't actually ready to die.
We get big eyes and wet crotches watching bodies crumble.
However,
Talking about airplanes is not the same as flying.

Prodigy.

2008-07-15T22:50:00.000-07:00

No need for introductions. In the future I intend this blog to represent the variety of my personal projects and reflections as well as a platform for sharing others projects and reflections.

But for now I am in the process of re-evaluating my past work.

New York Spring 2006:

2008-07-14T23:29:00.000-07:00

Some Polaroids from this summer:

Fruitful Rewards through Handsome Propositions or How I spent My Summer Vacation

2008-07-08T00:08:00.000-07:00

*thankyou adrian