Ideas, Perhaps.

Musings on muses

I have hit a brick wall. My brain is fried. My neurons are shot. My well has run dry. I am fighting a losing battle. I am uninspired.

As far as I can tell my muse is a spiteful bastard. He is also a schizoid and suffers from a severe seasonal affect disorder. I don't care, he's on the clock and asleep at the wheel. Until my muse realizes that there is more to life than slacking off and smoking weed I will have to go this alone. I just wish there was some guru, on top of a car accessible mountain, that I could visit in between episodes of House. I imagine he would unlock the secrets of creativity with a toothy smile then force me to buy a bumper sticker stating simply "This Car Ascended to Inspirational Nirvana".

Years from now when I'm shooting for GQ, Esquire, and Redbook I'll hear a knock on the door of my London flat. On the other side will be my bullshit muse tattered, torn, hungry, and begging for forgiveness.

This picture was part of a shoot I did at Union Station. It has some of the qualities that I was trying to express: loneliness, expectation, and pensiveness. I am not happy with how my last few shoots have gone, especially this one. At some point I hope to have a breakthrough, whether its before or after I fail this class remains to be seen.

The Forgotten Foundry

All kidding aside, the foundry is a sweet place. Sure its sooty, riddled with holes, and just this side of untidy but it has a certain charm all its own. I've been running around telling everyone I know about the vast treasures within. "Its totally huge and wicked awesome" I tell everyone I run into.

"I don't wanna go, its Friday" my roommate replied, but saddled his horse anyway after a lengthy guilt-tripping session.

"Call me when your about to go" chirped my pint-sized Jewish buddy. When I forgot to do so he threw an itty-bitty tantrum but firmly resolved to explore at a later date.

Going with other people has its pros and cons. A travel buddy or two allowed me to take more risks and delve deeper into the darker grimier recesses. Also their addition to the shots taken in this environment makes possible a whole new channel for creativity. At the same time other people are annoying. So the cost-benefit equilibrium is nearly even.

Adventures Avec Camera

From the first time I hefted my camera I knew I had found something special. I had found what all those people kept talking about; a partner, a companion, a confidant. Is it true love? Our relationship is still very young. Its been a whirlwind romance, a near story-book love affair. But, like all relationships, its had its ups and downs.

Recently I decided to inject a little spice into our time together. Since we have an open relationship, we invited my tripod to join us for some debaucherous fun; an early morning romp in the hay. First we climbed through a hole in a fence onto a rock outcropping directly over Interstate 290 and got busy as the sun rose over the highway. Though it was pleasurable (I know how to show a date a good time) we weren't completely sated. I mentioned a spot I knew where we could get into some trouble and we all agreed to give it a go. My camera and I had already been to the place I had in mind, an area of abandoned buildings, train tracks, and random junk strewn across the landscape. When we got there my camera started to get a little bored, so she dared tripod and I to jump a barb wire fence leading into some decripit old factory. In an attempt to keep her happy I jumped at the challenge and me, my camera, and my reluctant tripod clambored over the fence and went inside.

Needless to say that morning was unforgettable. I saw my camera and my tripod do things that I had only ever dreamed of. The light, the atmosphere, the rust (so much rust) combined to create a potent aphrodisiac that gave us stamina for hours and hours. After we finished and toweled off we all vowed to return again and again. Later that night I turned to my camera and, mustering all my courage, managed to whisper those eternal words: "I love you". She was asleep so I don't think she heard me but I could swear I saw a quick blink and maybe, just maybe, the faintest smile.

For better or worse I gave my parents my blog address. My mother insisted the content was too dark. I agreed entirely. Though it isn't easy for me to write about my private love life I felt that my blog should posess this emotional facet.

Manifest Destiny

I followed my easily excitable roommate to an industrial wasteland; remnants of Worcester's bright past and a reminder of its dismal future.  We exited the car and inhaled deeply of the toxic fumes.  I thought to myself "I could settle down here, make a home, start a family".  Turns out some jackasses had beat me to it.  We found one such abode inside the columns pictured here.  We went inside, toured the luxurious living room and snapped some pictures.  As we left I tacked an eviction notice to the peeling concrete determined to come back and seize what should be rightfully mine.  Out there, amongst the twisted metal and voluminous debris I could work the land; really find myself.  Either way my photo shoot was fruitful but yielded few usable shots so I will be back and those jackasses better watch out.  I will climb to the top of the tower and decree "I have come to make art and conquest, and not necessarily in that order".

Tetnus- A Metaphor for Life

Last year, I used to sleep on the couch every night. In fact I still do, but not as often. Though I have a luxurious bed, padded with sumptuous egg-crate and adorned with calming whale themed sheets, I was having sleepless nights on it. My couch is a half-foot too short, covered in grime, and itchy. Itchy as balls. But it was the only place I could sleep. Some people say I have an aversion to comfort and the more I consider it the more it makes sense. I think that my attraction to rusty objects is, like the couch, proof of my condition. I'm still trying to work with the color here and the shadows are a bit drastic but it is the tangle of decrepit metal that piques my interest. Maybe tonight I'll sleep in a junkyard.

Passion

This bird awoke in me a range of emotions. I was immediately awed by the majesty of nature, nearly blinded by her beauty. I thought, how fortuitous am I? I must be the luckiest bastard to find a living animal in a Worcester pond and I even had my camera to prove it. The last positive feeling I remember was the sun caressing my face as I raised my camera to shoot. Then it was only: Fuck this outcropping, fuck this embankment, fuck this vantage point, fuck this shutter speed, and a big fuck you to this lens. As I struggled to keep my pants up and my camera from falling my feathered subject spread his massive wings and took flight. His grace and poise made me stop, paralyzed by emotion. All I could think was: Fuck that bird. And my whole day was irreparably ruined.