Does seeing a nude photo of a dude make me gay?

5th and 51st, NYC  061314

I recently read a friend's writing on how overall there are few artistic photos of nude men, but there is a recent trend of male celebrities doing "implied nudes" or slightly covered nudes.  It got me to thinking why there are few nude art photos of men.  My thoughts of this have evolved from the obvious to a more nuanced and even bigoted reasons there are so few photos of nude men compared women. 

In the past, I felt the reason was that men have external bits compared to women.  The obvious penis draws the eye instantly and seems much more extreme than just being able to see the pubic hair of women.  It makes us see him as not only nude, but naked.  If he has anything more than a purely flaccid penis, it adds so much more charge to the image.  A woman's arousal is much less immediately obvious visually.

Recently, I've evolved my thoughts on this topic.  My new thoughts come from the realities conveyed in photography vs. paintings and other media.  There are many paintings and statues of nude men, many showing penises, some even have erections.  It is a different world for photography.

Let's say I recreated through photography a classic painting that had a nude male.   During this recreation, I match color, lighting, even the model looks as identical as possible.  I am willing to say that photo would be judged more harshly because of the reality of photography.

If I paint someone, I am taking what is perceived in my brain, through my eyes, and then I transfer to the canvas with brushes and paint.  It has been reduced in realism by being filtered through my brain and hand.  People feel a disconnect to the subject as being real because they know I could have changed any details, grand or subtle, due to the freedom of a blank canvas.  They know this is how I saw and recreated it, not a direct capture of the moment.

If I photograph that person, you are seeing a literal visual recording of that person.  We trust photographs to be true (even though Photoshop is causing us to question that now) at a logical and instinctual level.  That "realness" makes us feel an immediate connection as a witness to the moment, not just a viewer of a recreation.

Now, let us take that to photographing nudes versus painting them.  If I paint a nude, it means I could of used a photo as inspiration or had a live art model in front of me, or just recreated a memory or a creation from the ether of my mind.   If I photograph a nude, that means I was in the same room, the same moment with that model.  It is proof!  It brings up questions of my intent, my interactions, my relationship with the model.  It is much more personal.

Let us now say it is a male versus female.  We get into the physical external and visible parts while not seeing the internal parts.  We are seeing a real penis vs a woman's pubic hair is much more obvious in a photo than a painting.  This photo then feels and is perceived as real.  What does that mean?  It means I am making the viewer share a moment with that naked model and his nudity.  This can make many people, especially men who are uncomfortable with homosexuality, and anything that could feel "gay", even if the photo is not erotic.

Now I am going to go to a recent non-art world example.  Video and photos make us feel intimately close to the subject.  When Michael Sam, an openly gay football player, found out he was drafted by the St. Louis Rams he kissed his boyfriend in celebration.  So many people thought it was disgusting and that Sam was forcing his "gay lifestyle" into their faces.  It was too real for them to handle.  If it had been a cartoon or a painting of their kiss, it may not have been as shocking to some.  The double standard though is that if he had a girlfriend and gave her the same kiss, no one would have cared or complained.  For many, this homophobia may live below their conscious level and be more of a visceral, primal reaction that influences their cognitive thinking.

For many, that realism of photography makes them share a space with a naked man (or a football player kissing his boyfriend) and sadly so many can't get past that and just truly evaluate and appreciate the art for what it is.  This is true for nudes of women, but due to so many millions more photos of nude women being out there and also with less perceived feelings of threat by their nudity, the feelings may feel more directed as wanting a connection to the female models*.

Maybe someday we will see enough nude men that those of us threatened by internal homosexual phobias and bigoted beliefs that lay below our conscious minds will get past our initial reactions.  I hope this is changing sooner than I think it really is. 

 *Please note, I am only scratching the surface of how women are objectified in all aspects of our culture and also how it is accepted as "normal".  I don't mean to diminish or trivialize those issues, challenges, and problems.

That reminds me...

NYC - 011613

A few days ago I was listening to my iPod on the bus.  It was set to randomly choose the next song.  After a few songs, I heard the first bars of a silly dance tune that brought tears to my eyes.  It reminded my of a close family friend that died in December.

We went to Las Vegas with our friend Cassie a few years ago as a consolation/celebration of her getting laid off from work.  The many crazy outings included going to a number of night clubs.  Most of the d.j.'s played this song.  It must have been a fresh tune getting lots of club play at that time.  It is a very silly sampling/homage to an old song with lots of electronica thrown in.  All of us downloaded it and declared it the theme song to our trip.

In honor of Cassie, below is the song we all danced like fools to.  It is a great tune to clean house with and bust out a little dance move. 

We Speak No Americano

Our American City - New York

From Hoboken, NJ - 111012

If you read my stuff, you know I love, am in love with, and have an infatuation with New York City.  I've walked the streets, ate the food, photographed the place, and always feel a longing to return.  I can't claim I know it or am from there though although I feel myself desiring it again.

Valya - 111012

When the news kept coming back about Sandy's devastation to it, I instantly felt my heart sink.  I was there almost exactly a year ago and enjoyed the brisk November weather.  Now, I worried about all the people I know there.  Some had damage, some are cold and in the dark, but all are holding up.   I emailed Valya and she said her power was out, but she and her family were OK out in Brooklyn.

New York has a resilience that is unique to itself.  It can take one right on the chin, get up, tell the hurricane to, "go fuck itself", and then eventually go back to being New York.

New York - once you get back up again, I will be back.  I love you.

And the winner is... charisma

False Idols - 092312

"Charisma is a sparkle in people that money can't buy.  It's an invisible energy with visible effects."   - Marianne Williamson

Here is my attempt at a non-political post about the presidential election. I predict President Obama will win and my theory is not based on politics. It has to deal with the personality traits of his challenger.

Mitt Romney doesn't have the personality traits of prior successful presidential candidates that beat an incumbent president. He is not charismatic or communicates a well-articulated vision for the country. I am basing this off my memories of all prior elections I've been conscious of.

'72 - Do you remember who ran against Nixon? George McGovern. I was only three, so I don't have memories of this, but I know McGovern's name is pretty much forgotten in regards to this contest for me.

'76 - Ford was an incumbent and lost to Carter. This was partially due to the taint of Nixon's resignation and Ford's lack of time to build a track record. I throw this one out as a fluke due to the crazy events leading up to it. Carter still won though.
'80 Carter lost to Reagan. Reagan was the most charismatic Republican president in recent history. He had a vision for how he would lead the nation and shared it very effectively.
'84 - Reagan wins over Mondale. Other than Mondale riding on the power of having the first female VP nominee, he lacked charisma and vision.
'88 - No incumbent.
'92 Bush 1 looses to Clinton. Like Reagan, Clinton has plenty of charisma and was very effective in communicating his vision to the country.
'96 Clinton beats Dole. While Dole had a very distinguished military and political career, he didn't show his charisma, charm or vision.
'00 - No incumbent
'04 - Bush 2 beats Kerry. Kerry is not known for charisma or vision.
'08 - No incumbent
'12 - We will see. Romney is no Reagan or Clinton though.

I recognize this over-simplifies the details of prior elections and there were many more influences on the outcomes. With power of celebrity and popularity being such a key part of American culture (American Idol, America's Got Talent, etc.), the power of charisma and vision can't be ignored.

So with this, I bring a close to anything more I want to say about the upcoming elections and the issues/people involved. The current political climate disgusts me and I don't want to add my $.02 of poison into the mix.

Theft

ESB - 062912

Raise your hand if your photos have been stolen and used by others for their gain.  Me too.  Below is a link to tumblr website that is trying to expose those thieves.

http://stopstealingphotos.tumblr.com/

I have mixed feelings about appropriating art and changing it around like Warhol did.  I think it is justified if done right, but what the above site exposes are pure thieves calling stolen images as their own.

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

NY again

Unique Forms of Continuity in Space - Umberto Boccioni - MoMA - 112211

I got back Monday from a four night trip to New York.  This was not a work trip, nor a photography class trip.  This was a "me" trip.

During my extended break of the last two months,  I traveled with and to see family twice.  I got to do a lot of alone traveling up to Montana, but the family was part of it.  I needed this trip, my trip.  My trip to be alone and let myself choose the paths of the day.  I had to take this trip because I probably wont have a block of time off like this ever again.  I rarely take big trips for myself. 

My hotel was near Penn Station on 29th St.  Nothing fancy, but was clean, had free breakfasts, and convenient to multiple subways.  I went to many museums, walked all over the city in beautiful autumn weather, visited a few places again that I needed to feel a part of and explored a few new ones.

I did not give myself any city photographic assignments while their except one. I knew I was going to see lots of the city so I was sure I would photograph something.  I visited one neighborhood with a special name that I wanted to visit for years.   My one photographic city theme I self-assigned was personal, deeply personal.

I photographed two models separately, Megan and Valya.  Valya referred Megan for a special project I am working on.  We had a short thirty minute session where I got what I needed.  Megan did a great job and was pleasant to work with.

My session with Valya was an artistic gift, as always.  I will post a few photos from our session and write about it in a few days.

This trip turned very personal for me during my wanderings about town.  I had time to think of the city, my life, my choices, and who I am.  I didn't get many answers, but at least I found some questions I can stop asking.  I also realized that somethings are still too close to push into the past.

I left Monday to return home.  As I got into the taxi to go to JFK, I realized I was at a border moment of my own.  I had to either go home to San Francisco that moment or I would need to leave my California life, and all it held, and lose myself in the sea of anonymity and clean slates that New York could provide.  At that moment, I thought about cancelling the cab and walking away to disappear.  New York does that to me.

New York isn't self destructive for me.  Every time I go there I get pulled into a world where no one knows me, has expectations of me, or really even cares about me.   We all coexist, weaving in and out of each others' lives on the sidewalks, in the subways, and through out our days in the city.  Even though we see each other and may even say something like "excuse me", our lives will probably never intersect again and the mutual anonymity keeps our hearts quiet and private.   In a way, that is more liberating than anything I have felt in my life - to feel the world let go of me and just let me be.

Another one

Jacqui - 111511

It is a Tuesday and my time off is closing soon.  A few weeks ago I wrote of my change in plans that I would not make it to New York during this time off.  In place of that trip I planned to go to Vegas for an extended stay.  Now that trip has changed due to a few postponements in other personal areas.  So, NYC is back on.

I leave later this week and get back next week.  I hope to visit some old haunts, see some new things, meet a few friends and have a great weekend.

Another of Jacqui from the beginning of the shoot.

Jacqui - 111511

Back and forth

Rocky Mountain Front near Heart Butte, MT - 102311

Plans change as life forces them.  I just got back from a long road trip through Montana. 
This wasn't my first trip of my vacation either.  Just before that I went down the California central coast with my brother and his wife and stayed in two different motels.  In the past 18 days, I've slept in 9 different hotels, each one for only a night.  Needless to say, I am really good at checking in and out, unpacking and repacking, and moving on.

Last Sunday, a week ago, I was kayaking on Kintla Lake in Glacier Park near the Canadian border.  The fall colors enticing me to paddle a little further as the sun went down.  That was a magic day.  There were other magic days along the way as well, but I hate reading or listening to others' traveling tales almost as much as seeing their photos.  The memories or photos really only have meaning to the traveler, not their friends.  Their are exceptions though, if something newsworthy happens, if the traveler has a life changing experience and shares that, and a few other rare traveling gems.

Kintla Lake, Glacier National Park - 102311

Most of the trip involved me driving my little mid-life crisis sports car at just over the speed limit (I did get up to 100-110 mph for a dozen miles and also set a personal speed/time record for a curvy bit of Idaho road).  I saw 2905 miles of the American West through my bug-splattered windshield.  If I averaged 60mph over that distance, I spent 2905 minutes (~48.5 hours) being alone in my head.  You would think that during that much time in some of the most beautiful autumn scenery around I would find some deep intrinsically valuable nugget.  I didn't have any life-changing epiphanies on this trip.

On the second to last day I checked my credit card and bank account balances online.  I was shocked by how the former had grown and how low the latter had dropped.  I was being pretty frugal by staying in 1-2 star hotels, eating the free breakfasts, and keeping other expenses down.  It is amazing though how fast it all adds up.  It was worth it though.

I also started to notice my own energy/enthusiasm savings account was running low.  It didn't help having a cold and needing to rest and drive minimal distances for two days.  Like my monetary backing, I was running out of personal resources.  By the time I parked in my driveway I had to rethink how I am going to live the rest of my 8-week vacation.  By the end of week three I had used up over 2/3rds of my money I set aside for this time.

I originally planned to take this trip to Montana, then head to NYC for a week and end with a trip along the eastern Sierras on another road trip to Las Vegas.   That stuff isn't going to happen.

NYC is out.  I love the city more than any other.  It  is very difficult to cut that trip, but I have to.  It isn't just the money and energy.  I need a plan for what I want to do and capture there and sadly, my plans seem empty.  I really want to photograph the place, meet up with a few friends, work with models, both new to me and as well as veterans of my work, and create life-changing (at least to my life) art.  Sadly, I am not feeling the inspiration for what to create and don't have the time and money to gamble that something will come up when I get there.

A Las Vegas trip is still in play since it will be much cheaper and I will soon have a stronger/more permanent connection to that city.  That trip comes in November.

There is another reason for these deep changes to my travel plans, I need to take care of some shit in my life.  For years I've neglected finishing things that I started.  I have a truck in the driveway I restored 95% a few years ago, and it has sat at 95% for two years.  I have a website that cost a bit of money to set up and I need to finish it so I can gain the benefits from it.  There are thousands of untouched photos on my computer that I need to finish.  I have two or three major photo projects I need to finish up before starting new ones.  My home needs some repairs before the winter rains hit.  My physical and mental health is deteriorating due to gluttony and neglect. The list goes on.

I am sad I will have to snuff out the sexy, cool and exciting plans I created for this special time off.  I always desire to move on to the next thing at the cost of not finishing what I am on.  It is exciting to live like this, but also comes at a heavy cost of unfulfilled commitments and strained/broken promises and relationships.

Bright lights

ESB - 100511

Yesterday was a long one.  I had to get to Napa to take my Subaru into the dealer for its 30k spa treatment at 7:30 am.  Mother nature decided to mark the day with the first rain storm since June that dumped until late into the evening.  I worked on my website a bit and then had to head out to prepare for my closeup.  It was time to be a model again.

I modeled nude for the first time a few months ago.   I wrote about my session with Kristin and what I learned from it.  Even though I was nude, you couldn't see my face.  In fact, I was more of a parts model than anything else.  Today's shoot was completely different.  It involved clothing and emotions.

My friend Richard Plunk (Model Mayhem link here - you may notice we have worked with the same models from time to time)  is making a conceptual series on self-identity and the "othering" we do automatically.  He wanted me to be a part of it and sit solo and with a female model friend for later shots.

As always, I enjoy learning from other photographers.  Richard is a different photographer than I am.  He is much more meticulous in his sessions.  He has a strong concept of the shot and sets up all the wardrobe, lighting  and has blocked out the scene in many ways before the first photo is snapped.  He  directed us in movement, emotions, and other details to get what he needed.

Even though he had a very strong concept of the photo, he asked us for ideas and let us experiment with our movements.  We would try something and if he liked it we would hold the pose and he would give subtle directions for subtle enhancements (e.g., chin up a little, tilt your head a touch, etc.).

We shot for around 80 minutes and I was getting tired by the end.  Shooting in a studio with huge banks of lights popping while holding poses, expressions, and thoughts takes immense concentration.  Working with another model where you are touching and holding each other while trying to keep all this other stuff in mind takes even more work.

What did I learn?  First, Richard's eye for detail is a must for his work.  His photos have a heavily composed aesthetic where every part of it is crucial to the narrative.  I appreciated the constant stream of direction and his attention to detail.

Second, I need to tighten up my directorial game when photographing models.  I need to be able to direct physical motion  (chin up, tilt head, etc.) with more precision.  With that said, I also recognize I direct differently by guiding through the emotions I want the models to feel and live during the shoot.  I learned this from watching videos of Avedon photographing subjects and manipulating the session with dialogue that evoked deep emotions within the models.

Third, I reaffirmed I want Richard to take my portrait I will need for my website bio page.  I feel he has a true aesthetic that compliments mine, yet is unique and will add to my portrait.  I look forward to that session as well.

I had to depart quickly after the session to pick up my car from the dealer before they closed.  I would rather have stayed and shared a coffee with the Richard and the other model, but life started back up outside the studio and I had to get back to living.  All this brings me to my fourth lesson.  Time creating images with a model is of its own entity.  All other life issues, agendas, and urgency pause while the session creates something entirely different.   Once it is over, life resumes.  This is partially true for me as a photographer, except I still have so much work editing and preparing the photos that time continues on.  As a model, that pause of reality is a rare treat to escape what is life and to live it out in front of another photographer's lens.

Will I model again?  Yes for three reasons.  The first is that I owe it to art karma since I've relied so heavily on others to model for me.  The second reason is that I learn a lot about the model/photographer relationship that is different than the photographer/model relationship.  The third reason is that it feels so good to help create something and then be able to leave it in the hands of others and trust them to do it right.  Since I do most of my work behind the camera, I don't need to take ownership in these images or push them for my needs.  I am not going to put out a Model Mayhem page advertising my modeling work.   I am there to support the art and just enjoy creating and then releasing control and not have to worry about all the post production that I do for my own work.  I paid my dues by modeling.  It is up to the photographer to make sure those dues pay off for him or her.  With Richard, I hope I gave him what he needed.  He is a great photographer to work with.

One last note, Richard went on the same trip to NYC I went on last year.  He is somewhere in the image at the top.

10 years on

Coney Island - 091111

I could reflect on September 11th, 2001 and share what I did that day, what I felt, experienced and lived through.  My memories are old though and can't be trusted to be true.  To be honest, what I did that day, what I felt, experienced and lived through doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things.  We all lived through it and have our own stories which probably only have meaning to us.

I could write on how my world changed with two wars, increased security (and fear and paranoia), and the broken political system we live in, but you already know it, just listen to the shouting heads on tv.  We lost the united resolute ethos within a few years so that much is over.  Besides, Bin Laden is dead.

I could commend the bravery of the firefighters, police officers, and soldiers who gave their all on that day and in the wars since, but we already know of their heroism.  They should be honored and anything I say would add nothing to the mountains of sentiment going toward them.

A few years ago I heard a presentation from an eighty-something year old woman. Every year she swims a race from Alcatraz to San Francisco. The race is over a mile long in cool waters with a current pulling the swimmers out into the Pacific. She told us that during the race she flips over and backstrokes to rest and use other muscles. During that time she looks back at where she came from, Alcatraz. She has learned though if she becomes to fixated on it, the current will pull her off course, so she has to continually look around and forward again to keep her bearing. Before she ended her talk she gave me some of the best advice about living.

"It is OK to look back at the past, just don't stare."

On this anniversary, I choose to remain quiet, live my life, try to create something, do yard work, and move on trying to ease the pains in my body, heart, soul, and mind that are distant and recent.  Maybe that is the lesson of all of this for me.  Never forget, but keep moving on. 

Empire State (Building) of Mind

ESB - 090211

I never got to see the twin towers before they came down.  I wonder if I would have been overwhelmed looking up at them.   They seemed so skinny and slight.  Since seeing the Empire State Building from a distance for the first time in 2009 and finally getting to touch it in 2010, I've grown attached to it.

It is a beautiful building.  It is tall, solid, and towers over that part of Manhattan.  It makes me feel small, inconsequential, and forgotten, but protected.  It stands guard over everyone, not recognizing the individual, but the looking over the mass of humanity that built it.

ESB - 090211

Last year a few of us on the group trip had dinner in it before taking the multiple elevators up to the observation deck on a warm summer night.  I was scared to death to be up there, but soon the companionship of my friends and all the other viewers calmed.

I've been through a lot of emotionally powerful moments since that June night in 2010.  They included my heart, my art, my life, my health, my path, and my future.  That building continues to stand and doesn't know I am connected to it, but I know I am connected to it.

ESB - 090211

I can't explain this connection to that building, it touches many areas, but I know when I see it I feel all the glory, goodness, pain, illness, love, creativity, angst, joy that I've swam through since then.   While I lived my life, that building stood silently watching over the city.

I had to touch the building when I visited New York last month.  I felt the buzzing energy in it and all of the year  since rushed through me and I jerked my hand away.  I looked up at it and knew I couldn't go to the top of it again that day.   I was afraid what would happen to me if I did.  Instead I looked at it from my hotel window that night, sighed, and closed my eyes.   I love that building.

ESB - 090211

NYC - You can go back, but don't expect to it to have waited for you.

View from my room - 081311

New York changes me every time I go there.  This time was no different.  During the days I had to do my daily job in a northern New Jersey town.  In the evenings I went into the city four times.  Most of the side trips to the city were influenced by my life-changing trip last summer in two ways.  First, I went to a few places I wanted to get to, but didn't get the chance.  Second, I went to see or revisit a few things that brought back happiness, mixed emotions, and taught me a few important life lessons.

Last summer there were three places I wanted to go to, but missed for a variety of reasons. The first was Times Square.  The second was to visit Strand Books in Manhattan.  The third was Brooklyn.

Strand Books - 081311

How can anyone who visits New York miss Times Square?  During my last visit some of my group went to it while I visited  30 Rockefeller Center while walking to the MoMA.  I went under Times Square at least three times on subway trains and transferred to other trains.  Many of my classmates got there and created amazing night images.  It felt like those tv shows where two people keep almost meeting and something interrupts or misguides them away.  I made it there my first night.  Three things about Times Square - lots and lots of giant screens and lights, tons of tourists, and now the great New Years Eve party makes sense to me.  I brought a great tiny point and shoot camera that I hadn't learned all the tricks with so my pictures of it are meh.  I want to go back to it because it has a the same simulacra feel of Las Vegas, which I also love.  I love seeing such effort put up to create a false facade.  Times Square is another great metaphor for life.

Strand Books is the largest physical bookstore I've been in.  I love books, but I am no bibliophile.  This place would be a sacred pilgrimage if I was one.  There is one large floor dedicated just to art books.  The photography section is overwhelming.  The erotic art section is larger than  the local Barnes and Nobles' complete art section.  In that section I bought the Taschen photo book La Petite Mort by Will Santillo.  I couldn't resist after I read the line, "If orgasm is the little death, is masturbation the little suicide?"

Valya - 081311

Brooklyn was a view across the river that I never visited last summer.  We went to Coney Island on the far side of it, but never explored the heart of the borough.  This time I spent part of an excellent and artistically enriching afternoon visiting with a friend.  (The visit with my friend will be covered in my next post.  Look at the photo on the right for a sneak peek.)  I walked around the Jamaican neighborhood for a while.  I couldn't help comparing it to Manhattan and thinking "minutes away, worlds apart".  This residential area doesn't have the glamorous charm of Manhattan.  It is a rougher area with a vibe and feel to it that make it tangible.  The music coming from the windows, the talks on the stoops, and the energy made me want to spend an evening there getting to know this rich neighborhood a little better.  Sadly though, I had to go and try to catch my plane out in Newark and had to leave all too soon.  I will be back.

Dinner Outside - 081311

As mentioned I also visited a few places I had been to before.  First up was B&H Photo on 9th Street.  It is my photography store Mecca.  I've bought four or five cameras there including my newest acquisition, an am/pro HD camcorder.  I want to experiment with moving images and need one before my big trips this fall.  I highly recommend B&H.  They are very helpful, friendly and non-pushy.  They know their stuff too.

After leaving B&H I had to go to the Empire State Building.  I plan a personal post about this icon of New York.  For now though I had to touch it.  I had to make sure that both it and I are still grounded. This beautiful building towers over all its neighbors.  It towers over me and is so significant compared to me.  I will always remember and revere it, but I am sure it is not aware of me or my connection to it.  More on this behemoth of a charged building later.

Times Square - 081311

How did New York change me?  I am still sorting that out.  One thing I learned though is that I've changed greatly since the last time I was there.  In so many areas I've flown high and I have also crashed and burned.  This has been a hell of a year.

In New York, everyone is a small individual in a great big whole.  Every person is their own story, but almost no one notices each other.  They just pass by and let the story move on.  There are an insanely overwhelming number of stories just on one block.  Sometimes they bump into each other for better and for worse, but sadly end up moving away, losing the connection that the city allowed them.  As melancholic as that sounds, I love New York City for its beauty and pain more each time.  Love is a complex beast.  It both builds you and tears you down.  Everyone has the choice to fall in love so I guess the beauty and beast of it all are self-induced pleasures and pains. 

Foreplay... I mean foray in New York

NYC- 080511

I leave Sunday on a work trip to Hoboken, NJ and will be there for most of a week.  I will have to spend most of each day in the NJ office, but my goal is to get into the city at least two nights while there.

This is going to be a scouting trip, or foreplay, for my bigger trip there in late October or early November when I will spend part of my sabbatical soaking in the great city.  I plan to photograph the hell out of it again on that trip.  I hope to meet up with old friends, like Valya and Moon, and make a few new ones as well.  It is going to be good for my art, soul, and happiness.  God, I love that city.

I've written a bit about that city and the big trip I had there last year.  There are beautiful, fun, and exciting memories that still make me smile.  There are a few that hold a special place in my heart that are beautiful, painful, and important to me.  No other city has had this effect on me.

Next week's trip is going to be just a tease for me.  One goal is to finally visit Times Square.  I know it is cliche to go there, but I have to see it at least once in my life.  I traveled under it numerous times last year getting to other subway stations, but never went up to see it.

I will bring a small point-n-shoot digital to capture ideas for the big trip.  I love a little tease before the big event.

Killer Songs

Me - 072411

There are so many killers written into literature.   Many killers are portrayed in paintings.  Actors create amazing characters of murderers (think of Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lector).  I am not much of a poetry fan, but I am sure there are many poems about killing as well.  What I am thinking about today is the representation of killers in songs.

I got onto this theme after listening to Psycho Killer by the Talking Heads on my way home from work.  I then listened to Folsom Prison Blues  and Mack the Knife to get into the theme.  It made me wonder what the appeal of these songs were.  I know I have a number of them on my iPod.

I first explored the voice of the story teller in these songs.  Many are in the first person, but a few are in the third person.  This is interesting that singers and song writers want to be the killer rather than talk about them.  What is the motivation for this?  What makes us want to be vicarious participants in the darkest parts of humanity?

Me - 072411

I think this instinctual drive expresses itself in our acclamation and devotion to mystery/murder novels, television series (CSI, Criminal Intent, Medium, The Sopranos), songs, video games, and movies.  We deep down want to understand the motivations and experiences of a killer without having to actually live them, or to be blunt, pull the trigger or bury the knife.  If we thought about these deep feelings too much we would be disgusted by ourselves, so we never analyze deeper into them.  We just know we like the shows, books, and songs - even if they makes us look away at times.

Are portrayals of violence bad for society?  That is a tough question that is not a simple yes/no answer.  By exploring them through these genres, we can better understand them and maybe even scratch an subliminal itch that keeps us from going further.  On the other hand, these violent productions can stoke inhibited fires to become a reality.  Where is that fine line?  Can we even define that fine line since it is different with every consumer of the content?

Moon - 072411

I explored making abstract violent imagery last year in New York.  The images were inspired by the aesthetic qualities of the night terror dreams I often have.  I don't think the photos got to the point that I was trying to make, but they were my first attempt.  I wanted to capture the horror from those dreams.  They are third person for me, not first person.  Upon further reflection though, the images where the models look at the camera feel first person due to the eye contact.  (Thanks to Moon and Valya for their roles in making these photos.)

Valya - 072411

I think back to when my family first got HBO when I was 13 or 14.  My mom told me she didn't mind me seeing movies rated R if the reason was sex or nudity, but was concerned if the rating was due to violence.  As she said, "Nudity and sex is natural, but violence was evil."  It is in our DNA and basic behavioral psychology to desire sex for procreation.  It is primal.  It is our most basic core programming.  I don't care if someone is homosexual, straight, bisexual, or some other identification, the base drive to do it comes from the same place.  What we find desirable; same, opposite, or both genders, is coding that came later.  Maybe killing is another genetic program as well.

So, back to the question why do we vicariously live in lyrics like "I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die."? (Folsom Prison Blues - Johnny Cash)  Maybe it is because we are too scared to admit that some of these crude, base instincts are in us but we still need to hear others tell the stories.  I am sure many people will disagree with my theory, but I think everyone has an instinctual killer gene in us that we work so hard to deny.  Way back when, this gene helped protect us and get us food, but we don't need it in that way anymore.  By consuming others' stories of killing, through all genres, most of us stimulate, satiate, and suppress this gene without even acknowledging we have it.  Too bad this cycle it doesn't work for everyone.

Below are some killer songs.  I identified whether they are first or third person and shared a few of my thoughts on them.  I didn't want to write too much and would rather read your thoughts on them.  I chose not to put songs about victims, like Strange Fruit.  That may be worthy of a future post.

Mack the Knife - Louise Armstrong - Third person - I remember when I heard McDonalds use an altered version of this song for an ad campaign called "Make it Mac Tonight".  A few years later I was listening to an old *Satchmo album of my mom's that had the original.  I quickly realized this was no fast food ad song... it was scary as hell.  I listened to it three more times.  It chilled me how Armstrong was retelling the story as if he and some drinking buddies were shooting the shit, gossiping about these murders.  Pretty damn cold song.

Folsom Prison Blues - Johnny Cash - First person - This is a rare one in that it is not about the murder, but how murderer is rotting in prison.



Hey Joe - Jimi Hendricks - Third person - This song is about a man about to kill his lover for cheating on him.  Like the story in Cash's Cocaine Blues - the murderer heads down south to Mexico.




Cocaine Blues - Johnny Cash - First person- This is sort of a continuation of Hey Joe in that it is about a man killing his woman, but then tells the story of his running away and finally getting caught.  It is a light-hearted murder song, but very chilling in how it is meant to humorous ending with a weak warning to avoid drugs and alcohol. 




Psycho Killer - The Talking Heads - First person. I think these are some of the best lyrics about the mentality of a killer.

I can't seem to face up to the facts
I'm tense and nervous and I
Can't relax
I can't sleep 'cause my bed's on fire
Don't touch me I'm a real live wire

A bit of the song is in French.

Part of the chorus and the bridge are in French. The verse translates to "What I did, that evening, what she said, that evening fulfilling my hope I throw myself towards glory." The chorus lyric "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" means "What is this?"  from the Song Facts website.

My Name is Mud - Primus - First person - A dark disturbing story of how fast it happens and how it has to dealt with by the murderer.  Les Claypool is the band's leader, singer and bass guitarist.  His guitar style is rough, dirty and hard.  I like it.  It matches the theme of this song.




Henry Lee - Nick Cave and PJ Harvey - This comes from Cave's album Murder Ballads.  In this unique song, the killer is not who you would think.  The fair lady is the murderer.  Here is a link to the color youtube version of it.  I highly recommend you watch the black and white version by clicking on the photo and scrolling down to this song. 

Click the image and scroll down to the video

Jack the Ripper - Morrissey- First person - Sounds like he is telling of the stalking of his victim.



State Trooper - Bruce Springsteen - First person - Not sure if this is about a killer, but feels like he is willing to kill to get away.




Midnight Rambler - Rolling Stones - Third and first person - Starts off in the third person and transitions to first person after a long bridge section. 

And if you catch the Midnight Rambler
I'll steal your mistress from under your nose
Well, go easy with your cold fandango
I'll stick my knife right down your throat
Baby, and it hurts!

It feels like he is bragging about his work.





All of these songs are from the last 100 years.  I know there are great pieces from operas, and other musical genres, about murderers and killing and would be interested in learning about them as well.

* My mom named her trumpet Satchmo in honor of Mr. Armstrong.

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

I left my heart in NYC... last year. Part 3 - Valya

Valya - 0621111

On my penultimate night, I met up with Valya, a model from Brooklyn.  We had discussed concepts ahead of time and got to creating photos right away.  Valya gave me her best stuff to photograph.  One of her many qualities I appreciated were her nuanced emotions and expressions that while subtle, told volumes.

Valya had a photo shoot in Baltimore that morning, caught the train back to New York and met me for our session.  Her work ethic and passion for creating erotic, conceptual art and experimenting at the end of a full day shows how important this is to her.

This ends my small series reminiscing on my trip to New York last year.  Goddamn, I love that city, its museums, buildings, culture, attitude and the people I met and created art with there.  My fellow students, instructor, Valya and Moon, and the thousands of characters in my own New York love story that I saw every day made it a life-changing trip.  Thanks.


Valya's Blog - Highly recommended.

I left my heart in NYC... last year. Part 2 - Walking

Courtney - NYC Library - 061911

 You have to walk around to get to know a little bit more about New York.  We walked through upper, mid and lower Manhattan.  We strolled through Greenwich Village, Chelsea, SoHo, Central Park, Little Italy, the Highline Trail, Queens, Coney Island, to every art museum, and to a few bars.  We walked to almost every restaurant, choosing them by their menu posted outside.

Chelsea walk - 061911

Near the high line - 061911

Near SoHo - 061911

Greenwich Village - 061911

Harlem - 061911

I left my heart in NYC... last year. Part 1 - Moon Marie

Moon - 061711a

I know Tony Bennett sings a different belief of where his heart is, but my mine is in NYC.  It has been one year since I went there with a class for a week long adventure.  Over the next few days I will post a few new pics from that trip.  For today's post I want to reflect on my work with Moon Marie.

On my third night I worked with the great model, Moon Marie.  We tried many different settings, poses, themes and intents.  I appreciated her attention to detail, staging and direction.  During the first break, I realized I shot the first hour at the wrong ISO - 2500.  She was very agreeable to stay an extra hour to redo some of the shots.  Her professional attitude made it a pleasure to work with and her enthusiasm for trying new things made the session fun.

Moon - 061711b

I am not sure if I like the black and white or color versions of this photo.  One thing for sure, Moon is a beauty.

Moon's blog - I am honored one of our photos is there.  

I love this country.

Grand Central Station - NYC

I hate politics. I despise the vitriol poisoning common discourse.  I hate the fear mongering.  I hate the growing culture war.  I fear the backstabbing in Washington will only lead to a weak, sick nation, but...

Palm Springs, CA

I love this country.  I love the geography, the diversity, and the cultures.  I love how I can get in my car and drive everywhere that my gas money allows and see it.  I love that even though I am a Californian and many disagree with the politics of my state, I am still an American.  I am an American, for better or for worse. 

Why am I declaring the love for this country?  Call me a sentimental sap, but I saw a great Magnum photo essay called America the Beautiful and it made me realize how much I appreciate the grandness of this country.  Whether I am in Queens New York or at a Holiday Inn hotel in Sioux City, I know I am in my country. 

Donna's Ranch - Wells, NV

I really need a road trip and follow the inspiration of Robert Frank.

Duck Lake Road outside of Glacier Park, MT