Where the fuck am I?

My head's in la la land, but I always seem to be working, commuting, as my dreams pass me by. What ever happened to me just living? Jeez, it's been a while...

Floored

How is it that I become completely floored by speaking to someone in my past, when I thought I was completely over it. Admittedly, I never wanted to see him or speak with him again, but had no reason to remember or to justify why I felt that way. But, upon that surprise phonecall, I am brought to memories of a person that left me a shell and of which I had to work hard to rebuild myself into the person I am today. Speaking to him was strange. He hadn't seemed to change except that he had a well paying job, and his wife was pregnant with their first child. He didn't seem interested in talking about her or life as a family man, he seemed to want to try and reconnect with me. But in a way that was trying to show off or prove to me that he made it. he's not a loser and he has a good job. Who am I to judge? He has nothing to prove to me, but I guess it seems to him that I am the one that got away. As for me? Thank FUCK!
He tried to credit me for showing him a different path in life, a different way of thinking, yet didn't seem to acknowledge his part in my own downfall. I don't blame him for it, in fact I credit him for teaching me about the insanity of dealing with people with severe drug addictions, overcoming childhood abuse and the effects of that abuse in choosing romantic partners. I made some BIG mistakes and he was one of them. I guess I can call it a learning experience. I truly have no regrets. I learned a lot about the darkside. My naivity was shattered. I learned about the nature of different kinds of people. My compassion for humanity still has not waned. I have only grown from it.
Speaking to him, I felt dirty and vacant. I was reminded of myself as how I once was and how I am now. I never want to go back to that place and I never want to see or speak to him again. I was relieved J- called me and I ended that conversation.
Which brings me to the present... Why do I feel the way I do now? Although I have forgiveness, why am I still angry? Angry for allowing myself to be involved in that. I know I could say I was young and naive, that low self worth, low self-esteem, and poor examples of a lot of things contributed to the decisions I made at that time in my life. But the fact that I feel he doesn't seem to acknowledgee his own role of which it has taken me years to rebuild in myself and of my relationships with people, family, and friends. For me to be okay with him, I think he needs to acknowledge his manipulativeness in regards to me. Or at least hear me out in terms of how I feel on that past wish I would rather forget. I won't be able to deal with him otherwise. In fact, I don't want to deal with him at all. The key word there is DEAL.
I now fully understand when I hear stories of people cutting others out of their lives. I understand.




*images are of Adrian Ward, an artist from Nimbin, demonstrating the use of his "mind machine." (before, after, and close-up)

Artist's studio, Nimbin AU, 2004

** images are NOT of the subject in this blog and is a loose interpretation of how"my mind is BLOWN, man!"

So long, Farewell...

Passing out when intoxicated leaves the sober ones up to no good. (Sorry Joel. hehehe)






It's been a while. I've been in hiding. Good news. My flatmate and I have gotten closer over these few months and are now together.
Bad news. I leave in 5 days.
Sweet home Chicago.
Good news. Josh ( hi. I miss you already.) visits me for the holidays. Chicago misadventures, Montreal for Christmas, and NYC for NYE. Bad news. All I
know is that I just don't know. All I know is that I don't know nuthin'.

I got some old film processed the other day. This one is for you Sam.













I know I haven't told anyone really that I was going. My phone ran out of credit. I've become a recluse. No one really bothered to call me. I can only do so much. Sayonara suckers. Summer's in full swing!

A Conversation

sillysuthi: what does the lucky charms guy say again?
Dethfactor: Silly Faggot Dicks are for Chicks?
Dethfactor: wait..wrong cereal
Dethfactor: Umm something about slobbering on his blarney stone err something..
sillysuthi: i can't find me lucky charms?
Dethfactor: ahh yeah.. thats it
Dethfactor: stupid irish faggot.. always leaving his shit everywhere
sillysuthi: yeah, thats the ticket. faggioso
Dethfactor: so.. do you have any photography tips for me? like don't clean your lenses with piss
sillysuthi: thats a start. make sure your lenses are stored well. they can get moldy
Dethfactor: especially if you piss on them
sillysuthi: exactly. and no poo either.
Dethfactor: I dunno anything about metering you can tell me?! film tips?! I dunno Im definately an amature.. I've taken like 2 good pictures in my life
sillysuthi: metering. well, the light meter will read everything as being middle gray
Dethfactor: yeah
Dethfactor: I knows that
sillysuthi: so, a person backlit will be averaged out and that is why the person is dark
sillysuthi: so you have to meter the light for the person
Dethfactor: yeah
Dethfactor: and offset the aperature size a few steps to compensate for the darks/lights
sillysuthi: so for example, a white person's skintone is a zone 6. mid grey is zone 5.. yes exactly
Dethfactor: I knows.. I reads about that..
Dethfactor: practiced very little though
Dethfactor: never have time
Dethfactor: umm any lenses you'd recommend/cameras
sillysuthi: go to a camera store and buy a grey card
Dethfactor: I have one
sillysuthi: when you meter the light falling on the gray card, that should be the correct exposure
sillysuthi: so if you put the grey card where you want to meter the light and measure form that, you should be fine. it takes a little more time, but it'll give you correct exposure
Dethfactor: gotcha
sillysuthi: or, measure the palm of your hand and then add one stop more exposure
Dethfactor: I have a continious tungsten lighting kit
sillysuthi: what is the color temp of the lights?
Dethfactor: hmm good questions
Dethfactor: I'll have to get back to you on that one
sillysuthi: you'll have to compensate with your film or a filter
Dethfactor: gotcha gotcha
sillysuthi: unless you want the color to be warm
Dethfactor: anything mystical.. like if I pray to the thai gods of snickers bars that my photos will all look glossy
sillysuthi: what do you mean by glossy? not snickers no. maybe almond joy.
Dethfactor: I dunno
Dethfactor: Im just being silly
Dethfactor: what about mounds?
Dethfactor: no nuts for me maam
sillysuthi: mounds sounds too sexual. no
Dethfactor: well I don't want any nuts in my food
sillysuthi: me neither, especially if they're musky
Dethfactor: musky nuts? what kinda men you dating?
sillysuthi: i dunno!
Dethfactor: how can you not know? don't you check to see if they wash!? musky nuts.. geesh
sillysuthi: well, guys are generally musky! so wouldn't nuts be musky too?!
Dethfactor: no
Dethfactor: there is no musk about my nuts..
sillysuthi: how do you know? do you sniff your balls?
sillysuthi: ballsniffer.
Dethfactor: no.. I waft the odors.. I do not sniff..
sillysuthi: okay...
Dethfactor: hehe

Bris-Vegas

I'm staying for another year.

Death of a truly great photographer

I remember borrowing one of his books from the local library when I was 17 years old. His images have always moved me. He is one of the artists which inspired me to use photography as a tool to challenge worldview. Check it.




Gordon Parks, 93; fought evil with camera


By Mason Resnick

Former Life magazine photographer Gordon Parks, whose work captured the plight of black Americans at the dawn of the civil rights movement, died yesterday. He was 93 years old. In addition to his award-winning photography, Parks directed several films, wrote poetry, and composed music.

Parks was born in Kansas in 1912 and grew up in Minnesota, and earned his living as a self-taught fashion photographer. In 1942 he joined the Farm Security Administration, and photographed the nation's poor under the tutelage of the legendary Roy Stryker. While working for Life, a job which lasted from 1948 to 1968, Parks photographed everything from fashion to politics to sports, but he was best known for his photo essays documenting the effects of poverty in the United States and abroad.

In his efforts to expose intolerance with his camera, Parks made one of his most memorable images, shown here, of Ella Watson, whose mother had died and father was killed by a lynch mob. The caption to the photograph, which can be found on the Library Of Congress web site, showed that Watson earned $1,080 annually. But the caption doesn't go into the ironic detail that one of the offices Watson cleaned was occupied by a woman, presumably white, who served in a higher capacity. But both women had started work at the same time, with the same accomplishments and education.

Parks wrote in his autobiography, A Choice of Weapons: "I have always felt as though I needed a weapon against evil." For Gordon Parks, that weapon was his camera.

Infatuation

Why is it that I am infatuated with a person who I know is absolutely no good for me whatsoever? The intrigue, the mystery behind his character, his elusiveness of what he really does is driving me to want to know more! I like his face, his laissez faire attitude, his bad boy mystery. He fits in with the type I usually end up dating which is definately NOT good. I am curious as to what it is about him. It's not that I've had a spectacular time with him. In fact, it's pretty ordinary, bordering on "what am I still doing here?" Yet, I keep coming back for more and I want to see him even now! I admit it. I like him. But he's fucked! I wonder if it'll get old soon. I guess I am a masochist. Why am I sooooo stoopid?