Mirror

Before photography, the only way anyone could ever get a glimpse of what they really looked like was in a mirror or reflection, which is not a real representation because it will always be backwards, but close enough to drive narcissism or self-hatred to the absurd points that they have reached today.  Mirrors will always be aesthetic; they will never represent who you are; other than scars, they will never show what you’ve been through; but we are all haunted by them.  We put so much importance on them (and what we look like), that we even think that we’ll have bad luck if they break.  What if we all stopped putting so much importance on what we looked like and focused our energy on actually being beautiful people, regardless of those petty things?  We would swiftly become a society of absolutely beautiful people.

Stop looking in the mirror (but look in this one, because I made it meaningful…and creepy).

Step Forward

Most of the time I really write something important to me; when I absolutely tear my heart out, rip it open, and lay in on a pedestal before the internet; I find that it goes completely unnoticed.  I don’t know what I expect, really.  Maybe people really don’t get it.  Maybe people expect me to quote some cutesy poetry with my photos.  While I do quote what I’m reading, usually, I don’t have a bank of cliche words to attach to cliche photographs, so I write about my life and what I am going through... things that I think are important.  

*shrug*

Phoenix

The discipline of ballet mirrors the discipline of being successful at anything: you have to eat, drink, and breathe what you want; spend every waking minute thinking about it, and spend every sleeping minute dreaming about it.  So many people out there want success, but don’t understand what kind of work it actually entails.  What they truly learn when they try to pursue something is how much they actually want it, and how lazy they really are, unless they are simple enough to settle for good enough.  

This beautiful soul drove herself into an emergency room because of her want and need to succeed at what she chose, regardless of what anyone told her to sway her from her goal.  That was her drive before she succumbed to the reality of it all, and that is her drive now on a different level, slightly adjusted, to…you know…survive.  As a creative with similar obsessions and dysfunctions, the more others would tell me I was doing it wrong, the more I would flip them off and delve deeper into what I wanted, because I knew what I was doing.  I will always see a kind of honor in that, and I will always respect that kind of discipline, even if it isn’t what everyone thinks it should be, and even if it’s completely unhealthy and dangerous.  I understand, and while there are aspects of the obsession that shouldn’t be glorified, like American media celebrates mass murderers, there is a certain line that must be crossed, or you will never know what you are capable of, or what you can truly accomplish.  I have crossed that line many times, and am lucky to be alive and not in prison.  She is lucky to be alive.  

 The difference between those who die for their obsession, whether it be art, or religion, or justice, et cetera, is the basic need, an instinctual human desire and understanding, that while you may have accomplished something amazing on this run, you could accomplish things so much greater with even more time.  Hunter off’d himself because he couldn’t take the bullshit anymore, but not a day goes by that I don’t wonder what he would have to say about our current state of affairs.  Cobain off’d himself because he didn’t like what gear in the machine he’d become, but what could he have accomplished if he just removed himself from the machine, took some time off, and approached it again with a different perspective?  Beethoven poisoned himself to death trying to fix his hearing problem, but what if he would’ve embraced that he was just fucking deaf and kept writing?  What profoundly beautiful things has the world missed out on because people were so stuck in their obsessions that they didn’t see any rational way out?  

 I could go on with the notable historical characters, but I think I’ve made my point, and while there is a creative argument that those who succumb to madness and dysfunction leave a greater mark because of the severity of their obsessions, there is also a very practical argument that success in creativity doesn’t have to be such an extreme case of madness and obsession.  Greatness, however, will always be greater than this, and obtaining greatness will always require a better you, regardless of where you are and what you’ve accomplished, and when you get bit by that greatness bug, it completely takes over your life and mind, which is impossible to get anyone who hasn’t been bitten by the obsession to understand.  

The world basically just thinks there’s something wrong with you, but to those precious few who have the drive, the wrong things with you are actually the necessary right things with you.  Who you are is only the result of the character arc that you survived.  If you want to reduce your potential to the character arc that killed you, then you are free to do that, but your infinite potential will always be reduced to that specific moment that you stopped accomplishing something.  

 So… breathe on… fight on… bask in the glory of life… fly, enflamed, from the ashes of what could have been all you did, and soar into the world of what you never knew you could accomplish.  Take a little time to set the drive aside and appreciate the absolute beauty that is this life and your existence in it, but never stop pushing your wings into the wind; never stop feeding the fire you’ve become.  It will always be worth it to keep going until you absolutely can’t go anymore.  

None of us make it out of here alive, but let the universe decide when your time has come, and accomplish as much as you can on your way, but, above all things, be true to yourself; be who you know you are, completely, and don’t settle for anyone or anything in your life that makes you feel like you should be less or more.  Then, and only then, will this world be a more beautiful place to live in. 

Purgatory

 “…that his father had not had a place in heaven decreed to him, that the honour might be turned to the destruction of the citizens.  Cassius, the actor, with men of the same profession, used to take part in the games which had been consecrated by his mother to the memory of Augustus.  Nor was it contrary to the religion of the State for the emperor’s image, like those of other deities, to be added to a sale of gardens and houses.  As to the oath, the thing ought to be considered as if the man had deceived Jupiter.  Wrongs done to the gods were the gods’ concern.” ~ Tacitus, Book I, 73

Funny how we are half a century past the supposed crucifixion and supposed resurrection of that supposed savior, but the empire that would go on to destroy the world in his name gives no mention of that Jesus fella.  

Vik kept apologizing because she never really poses with anyone else, and when Maya mentioned wanting shoot with her I was surprised that she was up for it.  I just sat back and let them fumble over figuring out how everything should go, and it turned into something biblical, like an angel being drawn down to the purgatory of sensual earth by this matriarchal siren.  I just kind of smiled and hit the shutter button, in a kind of awe that this organically happened.  I feel very blessed to have this woman and these friends in my life.

Vik

 I worked with this beautiful soul two and a half years ago, and that was that.  I was initially drawn to her because of her skillset and my obsession with dance, but she was a model in New York, and I didn’t imagine that she would want to work with someone with my photographic portfolio and financial situation.  Once I noticed that she had moved to Las Vegas, I passively responded to one of her posts showing interest.  That turned into a few emails, but she told me later that she didn’t really think I was serious about shooting, or that I was even going to show up, until I sent her photos of my scouting a location just north of Vegas the day before, primarily because of the way I communicate and work.

 That will always be my short-coming, but I do show up when I say I’m going to.  I even go so far as drive most the route I was supposed to drive models, by myself, when they ask me for a ride, then back out last second.  It seems out of place to say that, but it happened a number of times in the creatively dark years after Vik.  I say creatively dark because I wasn’t creating like I had been for the years prior, but the truth is I was fully occupied with this current muse that I had found, and this family that we were creating.  The photos and work were abundant, they just weren’t the static work that I had become used to; they were personal, which I will also call back to my roots because my entire creative career has been incredibly, sometimes offensively, personal.

 I did write about working with Vik in my last blog, ID@B, but I refrained from getting too much into it, for reasons that I wrote about recently in this blog (The Ghost of Vik).  I was not disappointed with the work, per say, but there was an elephant in the room, and it was not my place to tranquilize it and drag it out, so I just kind of moved on, while passively following her career from the other end of an internet connection.  A couple months ago she cheated death by said elephant in the room, and has since been on a new lease on life… a beautiful, healthy lease on life.  She was always graceful, a beautiful dancer, and a beautiful soul, but this new Vik was glowing and happy and healthy, which made her all the more beautiful, but for the first time in my life I began to realize how lonely it really is on the road, constantly working, which is what I always wanted and wanted to document.

 She and my wife hit it off immediately, which was nice because I’m so bad at talking.  Obviously, we’ve been to this location before, so I wanted to find something I hadn’t shot.  We showed up early and wandered around, finding even more unique stuff at this crazy location.  While shooting, we didn’t have time to make the whole loop, but we did get some good stuff, way too much to post immediately, and Vik was nice company and more of a friend than before.

I realize this post isn’t too profound.  I just wanted to put it up.  Honestly, I’m still just really tired.  I don’t want to say I’m lacking inspiration, because I’m surrounded by it, but something is missing... maybe this boring Tacitus that I'm numbing through.  We had such a great time with this soul, and Maya is getting more excited about this kind of life that I’ve been passively fighting for.  My boss is out of town for the next week or so, so I am responsible for things, which is a little terrifying.  We just keep fighting.

Zzyzx (slight return)

 Ok, we'll call this a teaser, since it's a little out of focus in some important parts, like the people I'm actually shooting.  I really can't tell you why I had the depth of field dialed all the way to 1.2 in such a small and texturally unique place, other than the fact that I can go to 1.2.  I tend to do that a lot.  I am not used to working with two people, which obviously requires more dof.  I should've known better.  I did get plenty of amazing shots, but I skipped ahead to these because we were excited about them, and I haven't the energy to go through them all tonight.

We decided to head out a day early and car camp, and by "we decided" I of course mean that I was told we were heading out a day early to car camp, and by car camp I of course mean back to our roots...throwing a mattress in the back of Cricket, her Subaru mom wagon.  Vik had agreed to meet us in this unique little corner of the desert on her way to LA, so "we" made a little adventure out of it, and we had an amazing little time.  The closest campground to Zzyzx was Afton Canyon, and, on a crisp October night in the Mojave, under a 98% illuminated moon, we had it all to ourselves, which was amazing.  We were up to watch the sunrise, and shot on a unique little bridge on our way out...like you do.  There is obviously way more to come, but I just wanted to put something up because we had such a great time today.

Now... we sleep.

Augustinian Mutiny

 “That terrible night which threatened an explosion of crime was tranquillised [sic] by a mere accident.  Suddenly in a clear sky the moon’s radiance seemed to die away.  This the soldiers in their ignorance of the cause regarded as an omen of their condition, comparing the failure of her light to their own efforts, and imagining that their attempts would end prosperously should her brightness and splendor be restored to the goddess.  And so they raised a din with brazen instruments and the combined notes of trumpets and horns, with joy or sorrow, as she brightened or grew dark.

When clouds arose and obstructed their sight, and it was thought she was buried in the gloom, with that proneness to superstition which steals over minds once thoroughly cowed, they lamented that this was a portent of never-ending hardship, and that heaven frowned on their deeds.” ~ Tacitus, Book I, 28 

Oh those silly Romans.

Vik + Zzyzx… coming soon.