Overstaying my welcome

Delta Sign - 121411

Back in college our group of friends would take turns hosting parties.  There would usually be a dozen or so of us laughing, dancing, arm wrestling, drinking, eating, toking, making out, joking, and then repeat.  Each party was a treat that lasted for hours and ended when everyone dribbled out.  This exodus usually would last only last ten minutes or so before everyone cleared out.

One night at Scott and Tracy's, four of us remained as we hung out in the living room talking, laughing and getting drunk.  At one point (around two am) there was a lull in the conversation and we could hear the music coming from the stereo.  The song was Contact by Phish.  The relaxing lyrics of the first verse so clearly poured into our ears.

The tires are the things on your car
That make contact with the road
The car is the thing on the road
That takes you back to your abode

We looked at Scott and asked if he was trying to give us a hint.  He laughed and shrugged.  We all then laughed and decided it was time to walk home.  That song became a running joke that we would all play at parties as the exit tune.  It was a funny way to give the soft message, "Time to move along."

We moved to California in 1997 and have lived in Vallejo ever since.  That is only fourteen years, but that is four years longer  than I've lived in  any other place in my life.  Vallejo feels like home and I am comfortable here, but I am getting the subtle signs, internal and external, that it is time to move on.  For the past year or so I've felt both pushes and tugs to leave.  These forces are communicating to me that it is time to move along down the road.

Las Vegas Sign - 121411

The pushes are all around me.  They are subtle and I believe exist in both my subconscious and of those around me.  Many of the pushes are probably my sub-conscious creating negative narratives affirming a need of my own.  One example is the feeling at work that it is time to move one.  The job feels old and rusting.  My performance is getting worn out and I am running out of enthusiasm for it.  I wouldn't be shocked if my coworkers feel the same about me. 

While I may be manufacturing many of the pushes in my mind, I've noticed real ones too.  I've burned a few bridges over the years.  One really bad and recent one is indirectly sending me push messages.  Through very indirect communication (some subtle, some public), the sender is giving signals that my presence and welcome are worn out.  The sender is done with me and it is time for me to fade away.  I earned that push so I am trying to fade out as quietly as possible.

Helping the push are the tugs pulling me into new areas.  The tugs come from going to New York, Las Vegas, Rome, and my other wanderings and travels.  During those times away I felt tugs to move to the new area and a growing regret when I got back to the Bay Area.  These tugs made me realize that a new home awaits me elsewhere.  These tempting tugs beckon me with promises of a  home where I am welcomed, wanted, and where I can bring fresh blood, no burned bridges, new perspective, experience, passion art, humor, and energy.  These places are not tired of or annoyed with Karl yet nor feel the need to push me out.  I haven't disappointed, failed, hurt, or broken hearts in those places.  I am sure though one day I will.  It seems everyplace I go I overstay my welcome.

Phish - Contact

Secrets, brilliant disguises, masks, and façades.

Candace Nirvana - 070211

If you reveal your secrets to the wind you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees. - Kahlil Gibran

I just read a post over at What We Saw Today by my friend Carla titled Secrets.  I recommend reading her post.  To summarize it, she shared some personal information with someone who betrayed her with the secret.  This reminds me of why we all keep secrets and must be careful with whom we share our most personal details.

I wrote a bit about façades and how we build up fake fronts to hide what is inside of us.  I think we also build safe rooms in our hearts and brains where we keep the most intimate secrets buried.  I've bared only parts of my safe room to a very few.  Nobody has burned me horribly, but I've had some bumps along the way.  Nobody, but me (and depending on views on God) knows all my secrets.

Secrets are made to be found out over time. - Charles Sanford

There were two people I shared a bit with that didn't hurt me, but never forgot a word I said.  Even months and years later, both will mention a shared nugget or two at relevant times.  I am not sure if they do that to show they have power over me with the secret or to show they were listening and remember what I shared and care for me.  It may be a mixture of both.  This reminds me of why during biblical times God, and other characters, were hesitant to share their names.  By knowing some one's name you had power over him or her.  Similarly, by knowing a person's deep secret, you have large power over them as well.

What is love? Love is when one person knows all of your secrets... your deepest, darkest, most dreadful secrets of which no one else in the world knows... and yet in the end, that one person does not think any less of you; even if the rest of the world does. - unknown

I recently had a falling out with someone (person A).  We "de-friended" on Facebook and cut other ties as well.  We still have common online friends and that is where the pixel forest fog comes in.  I wrote a status update on Facebook about an event that we and another friend had in common.  An hour later I got a Facebook private message from the shared friend (person B) that was meant for  person A, not me.  It had my FB quote, sort of trashed me and made a few jokes.

I don't know what hurt more,  that person A told person B about the falling out or that person B, a shared friend, was spying and relaying information back to person A.  The fact that all of this is happening online is not new, this type of coy spying has been going on for ages.  I remember these types of shenanigans going on in junior high, but now it happens in the pixel forest as well.

I purposefully keep things secret.  Some are to protect myself, loved ones, family, friends, and other interests.  I kept my name secret on my old blog out of fear of how my photography and dark and/or erotic thoughts could harm me.  I now own this blog and use my name, but no longer share those parts and only some of my photography for the same reason.   I have a separate day job and multiple lives I live and need to protect.

I was once talking to a friend about how our personal universes were shaped.  Hers was one big sphere where all parts of it swirled around together, colliding, bonding, and separating from each other.  Things were not compartmentalized.  My personal universe is more like a wheel hub with spokes going out.  The only place those spokes may touch is at the center, the hub, or me.  I rarely mix my work life with my art life or my family life or college life or blog life or church life.  If I do let them mix, I try to control the meeting as much as possible and am very nervous during it.  I really hate when those hubs or worlds collide outside of my control.

We dance around a ring and suppose, While the secret sits in the middle and knows - Robert Frost

Why do I keep such strict separation between these parts of me?  Part of it is that I know the spokes would conflict with each other, may not understand each other, and would hurt me in the end.  I also keep them separated because I seek out different things from each group that make most of them mutually exclusive for me.  I don't like mixing those groups because the mix rarely goes well.

At times I wish I could be as open as the friend with the sphere universe.  I think it is healthier because she has fewer secrets or perceived needs for them.  For me though, I can't do it.  I was raised this way and it is an atomized part of my essence.

It takes a lot of my energy to maintain my spoke universe and even though I am decent at keeping everything separated, the parts do bleed through to one another on occasion.  One such area is my art.  If you spend enough time looking at it, you can see what I try to keep hidden from other areas.  Maybe my reluctance to change is partly due to me not wanting to give up one of my internal muses, my secrets that make up most of my art and expression. 

The last song from the last Beatles performance on the roof of the Apple Offices- Get Back

A f*#$*@g website

Jacqui and Truck - 060811

I have a goal to build a website this month, or at least get it going.  So many things to consider: commercial sales of prints? blog? how many photos? how many portfolios? which photos? how personal? artist's statement? links to others? do I offer portrait services? colors? fonts? logos? aaaaaahhhhhhhhh.

Not the worst things in the world to worry about.

I need one to showcase my art.  Many people ask to see it and I need to share it more.  The next question is which photos?  Nudes, erotics, landscapes, editorial, conceptual, travel, portraits... I could keep going.  I will only put up the best of my stuff regardless of genre.

Ok.  This is a boring post.  The picture of Jacqui is good though.

Ecstacy and Death - tough acts to follow

Carmen waiting for her lover, Jacinto - Movie still from The Devil's Backbone

We watched Guillermo del Toro's * El Espinazo del Diablo (The Devil's Backbone)  last weekend (Del Toro also directed Pan's Labyrinth and the Hellboy movies).  Two of the repeating elements del Toro focused on were the acts of ecstasy and death.   In one, the couple is finishing there tryst, in three other scenes, three main characters die in drawn out sequences that make you feel part of each moment.  The acting in these pivotal, emotional and powerful scenes was some of the best I've seen.  Each conveyed their message whether it be love, lust, regret, loss, coming fate, or all of the these.   I wonder, how hard it is to act out these two moments?


I've only had one credible acting experience, as Francis Nurse in Arthur Miller's The Crucible in a high school production.  My part was small, but important.  It didn't really push my acting abilities though.  Even though I am not a thespian, I appreciate good acting.  What I saw from all the actors in The Devil's Backbone, I have to stand up and applaud.  In my opinion, two of the toughest performances to pull off were the long death scenes and the sex scene.


SPOILER ALERT - I am going to go into details about who dies... and orgasms in this movie.

The sex scene is between the middle-aged teacher/headmistress Carmen and her former student (and antagonist) Jacinto.  The scene opens with them at the climax of their intimacy, him on top her.  Both of their faces show they are in different places, yet still physically bound together at the hips.  Her expression shows the pleasures of the moment, yet the loneliness that she is with a sexual surrogate that she does not love.  Her love is for the much older Dr. Casares who recites his love poetry to her through the wall in the mornings.  Her regret and ecstasy combine into a moment of acting that tells more stories than a heart can bear.  


Jacinto's orgasm shows his temporary pleasure and his thoughts on how he is doing this to gain access to a key Carmen holds that unlocks the orphanage's safe containing what little money and gold it holds.  He is using sex as a means to an end.  Once again, the moment is complex for both characters.

Carmen's death - Movie still from The Devil's Backbone

There are three long death scenes showing the transition from living to death, the act of dieing.  The first is of Carmen dieing in Dr. Casares' arms from her wounds sustained from the explosion of Jacinto's bomb he used to remove the safe from the wall.  You can tell from Dr. Casares' initial reaction that he knows her wounds are fatal, yet he tries to mend her with delicate and loving ministrations.  She tries to tell him she loves him, but he tells her to listen to one more poem.  He shares his last poem for her, telling of how through death, their love pulls them closer together.  You can see her life slowly leaving her through each line he recites as he lovingly caresses her head.  Carmen fights to stay alive to hear the poem, but dies before the last line is finished. 

In the second major death scene, Dr. Casares sits in a chair overlooking the orphanage's entrance holding a shot gun.  He is there to defend the children from Jacinto's return to  steal the safe and kill all the boys.  Dr. Casares is bleeding from his wounds inflicted from the same explosion that took Carmen.  He is now deaf in one ear and is wearing out.  One of the boys, Jaime,  is in the room with him keeping an eye out.  You see the boy doing things to prepare as Casares looks out the window.  At one point you see Jaime notice the sound of flies buzzing about and looks at the doctor.  A fly flits about Carsares' open mouth as another lands on a cut on his head.  At that moment, Jaime knows the gentle doctor died.  It is a quiet death, but so well acted as the life quietly bled out of him.


In the third notable death scene, Conchita, a young beautiful woman who helps out at the school and was Jacinto's lover and fiance, is walking toward the distant neighboring town to get help after the explosion.  She runs into Jacinto who is returning to the school to get the safe and kill the rest of the boys.  Jacinto gets out of his truck and walks to her as his two thugs watch on.  He puts his hand on her shoulder and tells her to apologize and join him.  She tells him she is not afraid of him anymore.  He offers one more time and she responds the same.  He holds her close as they stand in the road.  You don't see anything more than his arm move, but you know he has just stabbed her in her side by her flinch and reaction in her eyes.  In the next half minute, you see all the emotion, pain, and sorrow of life in her eyes and face.  No words are said as he holds her and her life slowly fades out.  Jacinto is hurt by his killing her.  


All three of the deaths show so well that transition to death.  Each actor lets you know when the "lights out" moment occurs.  Each death moved me in different ways, as did the sex scene. 


Enough has been written on the connection between sex and death.  There is a French term for the orgasm, le petit mort.
According to wikipedia, la petit mort is...

La petite mort, French for "the little death", is a metaphor for orgasm.

More widely, it can refer to the spiritual release that comes with orgasm, or a short period of melancholy or transcendence, as a result of the expenditure of the "life force".

What I ask again is, how do actors prepare to act out these two moments and convey the reality of it?  I know that method actors may emphasize the point of making it feel like it has never happened before to make it feel real.  Other actors may look at references from literature, art, and music to reenact the death and orgasm. 

Dee's suicide - Battlestar Galactica

I recently watched the science fiction series Battlestar Galactica for a second time.   In one episode of the final season, Dee commits suicide by shooting herself in the head.  There was almost no lead up to the moment.  She is standing by her locker, putting away her stuff, looks in the mirror and shoots herself.  The whole moment lasted five seconds, at most.  So much of death portrayed in tv and movies shows the suddenness (and often violence) of the event, yet rarely shows the emotions and depth of what each character and the victim(s) experience.  Maybe this is due to challenge of conveying such a deep moment.  


The ability to act out sexual ecstasy and death so vividly and emotionally has to be two of the greatest acting challenges.  These challenges not only comes from the emotional/mental demands of the moment, but also the deeply personal and unique experience we all have during ecstasy and death.  I admire film makers willing to show the power of these moments and the actors creating them.


*Note: I highly recommend this period piece that tells of a orphaned boys school set during the Spanish civil war.

*A woman's dress should be like a barbed-wire fence: serving its purpose without obstructing the view. - Sophia Loren

California Delta Fence - 041211

If you didn't grow up in agriculture/livestock regions, you may not know the main purpose of barbwire fences.  You would think they are there to keep predators away from your livestock. That is a part of it.  The main purpose of barbwire fences is to keep your livestock in a controlled area and prevent them from running away, getting hit by a vehicle, or mingling with your neighbors herd.   The invention of barbwire transformed the West from wild openness to closed agriculture empires.

Joshua Tree National Park - 041211

There are so many barbwire fences in our lives - things meant to keep us in.  Seat belts, social norms, sidewalks (to keep us from wandering into the streets), offices, cubicles, etc.  Our houses are our places to live our lives without intruding into the public.  I can get naked, dress, eat, read, watch tv, view porn, make love, scratch, belch, go to the bathroom, yell, listen to music, and do my personal stuff at home without it escaping into the world. 

I am neither a fence builder nor a fence wrecker.  We need them for safety and privacy.  They also hinder us from exploring out of bounds -  like kids learning to use crayons in coloring book and told "stay in the lines".  Barbwire is designed to scratch and cut both ways... those trying to get in and those trying to get out.  Nobody ever straddles or sits on barbwire fence due to indecisiveness due to the rusty barbs.  Either you are in or out.  The question becomes, when is it right to get out?