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This weekend has gone by sooooo quickly. An old friend of mine flew in from Indiana this weekend. We actually met in boot camp back in 1991 and I’d not seen him in over 4 years (since the wedding). I felt a bit of a killjoy compared to usual since I still wasn’t at 100% from a week of being near hospitalization. Despite my being weak and more tired than usual, I think he had a good time while here. As always, the visit was filled with good food and drink. Last night was especially fun with the exception of a small moment of psychosis, but in the end we all had a fantastic time. I have a dear friend with relationship issues and the lack of will or facility to work through them and it kills me to witness. His girlfriend, who otherwise is a very nice girl that I like, is so completely self centered and controlling that she doesn’t even realize she has a problem. The worst part of it all is that all of the people in her life see and acknowledge the problem, but are too scared to deal with her tantrums when she doesn’t get her way or when she hears something she doesn’t like to actually do the right thing, as good friends should, and talk to her about it. So they just turn the other cheek because it’s easier to ignore it than deal with it. I guess I’m going to be the prick until either I’m banned from their social circle or someone besides me points out to her that she has a legitimate personality issue that needs some professional unbias assistance. Therapy or similar psychological counseling would be ideal, but a good start would just be having her close and trusted friends stop being pussies and unveil her for the controlling princess that she is. She would eventually be happier and everyone in her life would be happier as a result. Instead, she will unintentionally continue to make those around her miserable and her marriage (assuming all continues on track) will most unfortunately and inevitably fail. That is a pretty serious thing to say, but I know you can’t build a lasting relationship on one sided control/dominance and fighting more often than not. Something has to change and the first step is admiting there is a problem to work on… I am learning the hard way that I’m not the guy that should raise his hand and say, “hey, there is a fucking problem here and you need to work on it”. I’ll say a prayer for ‘em… specifically her. Not much else to do but watch the misery and denial.

Dad, Ed, and me (photo by Sandy)

My dad has a couple of tanks on his property. This particular one is spring fed, so the water is rich in minerals and oxygen. We spent one of the mornings out there harvesting moss from the rock bottom on the pond and hauling it into this skiff to remove it from the pond. The water, although you can’t tell here, is crystal clear… what a great swimmin’ hole!

I bought myself a Slingbox today. OMG I love it. I can watch my television from anywhere in the world (via the Internet) and even control my DVR and playback movies, etc. The coolest feature so far, is the ability to watch streaming media from my house to my cell phone anywhere. I can even change channels on my cell phone to drive my cable box at home to the program I want to watch. Too cool for school. I know it’s not new tech, but I never bought one so it’s new to me. I can’t tell you how much I dig it!

Happy Anniversary is what I would whisper after kissing you awake if I could manage to keep the flatware quiet and not spill any coffee on the way into the bedroom. I would do it until the spots on my skin were as large and dark as the raisins on the toast and I couldn’t hold the tray any longer. The slightest familiar smell reminding me of you is enough to cripple me and my heart still skips a beat in that instant time stops when a chill shifts the weight of that small titanium band on my ring finger… like my soul, in that moment, fears being lost. Happy Anniversary is what I would say… and that I love you more with every beat of my heart and breath across my lips, but I wouldn’t have to say I miss you.


I miss you.

...is exactly what I had for dinner tonight. And people say I can’t take advice! Look, I’m in rough shape here. My hair looks like Bride of Frankenstein, I haven’t had a drop of alchohol in almost a week, I haven’t a meals worth of solid food in almost a week (seriously, those are in no particular order), and I am generally feeling less than fit for human consumption… in a social sense that is… or whatever. So the reason I am taken a moment out of my parent trauma to write is this: the acidophillius unit of active ingredient is measured in “billions of organizisms”. I found that interesting in a mildly unsettling way. But after a moment of consideration, I realize I’ve eaten some pretty nasty stuff in my day, so how bad could it be? I still won’t eat balut… I’ve drawn the line at kimchi (and that is no way a position statement on abortion or animal rights).

I just had a parenting moment.

Back when EL was around, we often talked of getting a second Yorkie for Henry to have as a companion. Given Eclair’s age headstart and his breed longevity over a normal lifespan, we didn’t want her to leave him without another dog when/if she passed first. He, like all my animals, is fixed, but he sometimes will “mount” Eclair out of instinct and get the RV a’rockin’. He’s so small and she’s so big that he basically just climbs up to a comfortable spot on her back and just dry humps whatever patch of fur is comvenient. His legs often don’t even touch the ground. It’s quite humorous… especially when he really gets into it and throws his head back like a wolf baying the moon. I’m serious. However, I don’t think he fully understands what or why he is behaving in this fashion. I can’t say it’s ever happened before, but I know it’s never happened when I was home… tonight, he sported the red rocket. It scared the shit out of him. He was walking around on tippy toes all contorted. He would stop every couple of steps and look at it and then look at me with that, “Dad, what the hell is that thing on me??!” look. I have to admit, he is hung like a champ. I mean… damn boy… part Yorkie, part horse. He could do doggie porn. He could be in the circus. You get the idea. Anyhoo, he was seriously terrified of his cock. The look of sheer horror in his eyes was so unsettling that I had to grab the squeekie and take him outside to try and get his mind on something else. Meanwhile, now I’m wondering how to handle the next occurance. Perhaps little Lily needs to come home sooner rather than later. Henry can start a little stable and learn “the power of the pack”. Heh. That or Cesar Millan needs to help me with some four-legged psychology.

ps. I think that guy is fucking brilliant, so don’t assume I was cheesing him. I have nothing but props for Cesar. What he contributes to our world is wonderful.

This is the first time since I’ve been home that I felt psuedo comfortable navigating the stairs. I almost fell three times… twice on the stairs and once in the shower. My dad had three new puppies when I arrived at his ranch home last week. Buddy the Blue Healer and the two Australian Shepherds, Java (not pictured) and Freckles (below). They were absolutely adoarable. I’m a sucker for puppies.

My main goal for the weekend was to just visit my father and relax away from the city, but I took my friend Ed, and I know he loves to photograph deer, so we spend some time in the woods. We were always on different parts of the ranch and I think he ended up seeing more animals than me, but it wasn’t that big a deal to me anyway, so meh. My dad has White Tail (including a few trophey sized… note: I am strongly against sport hunting), Black Buck, Axis, Fallow, and Sika. The Axis bucks are great to photograph, but I didn’t see any this trip. When EL and I were first out there, I snapped this one waking from a nap. I dug around on my old harddrive for a while and couldn’t find the orginal image. I must have deleted it. Anyhoo, here are a few of the random shots from the weekend (including a few IR shots for Miranda).

If you have a Flickr account, you can see them at 1000 pixels on the longest side. I’m just too weak and lazy right now to post them another way. Sorry.

My fever is relatively steady “low grade” and I’m not shivering non-stop. My body hurts all over… bad. Night before last I took and OTC sleeping aid and it did nothing to help me get rest. Last night I took an Ambien CR and it did nothing. I am taking sleep where I can get it… 15 to 45 minutes at a time. If I can get a solid 6 to 8 hours in one of these night, I think I can whoop this Ebola. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. Right now, my biggest discomfort is the incredible hit and miss abdominal pains from what I can only assume to be gas associate with this stomach flu from hell. I’ll let you know if you can actually OD on Gas-X.

I’m back from the hill country, but not back to normal. I got sick Saturday afternoon a couple of hours after lunch. I initially thought it was food poisoning due to the wrenching pains in my abdomen (like I was being knifed) and poo the consistency of water. I’ve had food poisoning before and it was a similar sensation, but I wasn’t doing the technicolor yawn this time. By late afternoon, I was shivering in the hot sun and tried to lay down. I bundled up in winter clothes and stayed under layers of down comforter… all the while freezing my ass off. I didn’t sleep a wink. It was all I could do to force down as much water as possible to stay hydrated. By Sunday morning, I didn’t have the strength to hold the wheel of my truck (and I have power steering), so I had to ask Ed to drive the nearly 5 hours back to Houston. I was drinking Gatorade and chewing any OTC drugs I could find to get me home, but I was in excruciating discomfort. Last night, my fever was 102 degrees most of the night again. It broke around 4 this morning, but I’m not getting excited because it had dropped below a 100 degrees for a few hours on Saturday night only to spike back up again. I had to get out of bed this morning because my body ached and head was pounding so hard, I couldn’t suffer the laying. My skin is super sensitive, my bones, joints, and muscles ache. So here I am, going into the third calendar day of this crud and only feeling marginally better. I need rest. I’ll tell you about the trip later.

It is 6:07 aye emm and I’ve not yet been to bed. Well, not officially. I remember something about dinner being a couple of grand last night. Barrett and I ended up all over downtown, but finished at Shadow Bar. There was drunken Whataburger and some time killing so I didn’t drive home inebriated. I’m so tired. I am way to old for this shit. Sweet dreams.

Big birthday dinner tonight for Barrett with his family… private room at Perry’s, crusty jugglers, meat cake… the works. The thing is going down at a location I’ve not yet been to and traffic between me and there is going to be horrific. I had to wash some clothes today. Procrastination in the laundry department has gotten the better of me this week. I like to do laundry as I have enough for a load because when I get behind it is just overwhelming. If I were to hit the mega-millions jackpot, I would just buy new clothes. Of course, that implies I play the lotto… which more often than not, would be a false assumption. I need to get on the road… rush hour hell. I got bail money in my sock, muthafukka.

Just when you thought Google Earth couldn’t be cooler, they throw stars in your face. Zowie, Shaggy! I’m all kinds of busy with my hill country trip right around the corner. Henry is staying with Grandma, so he won’t be able to chat up his old pal, Frankie D.

The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, “Well, I’m off
now. The man should be here soon.”

Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. “Good morning, Ma’am”, he said, “I’ve come to...”

“Oh, no need to explain,” Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, “I’ve been expecting you.”

“Have you really?” said the photographer. “Well, that’s good. Did you know babies are my specialty?”

“Well that’s what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat”.

After a moment she asked, blushing, “Well, where do we start?”

“Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun. You can really spread out there.”

“Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn’t work out for Harry and me!”

“Well, Ma’am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the results.”

“My, that’s a lot!”, gasped Mrs. Smith.

“Ma’am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I’d love to be in and out in five minutes, but I’m sure you’d be disappointed with that.”

“Don’t I know it,” said Mrs. Smith quietly.

The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. “This was done on the top of a bus,” he said.

“Oh, my God!” Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat.

“And these twins turned out exceptionally well - when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with.”

“She was difficult?” asked Mrs. Smith.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look”

“Four and five deep?” said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement.

“Yes”, the photographer replied. “And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling - I could hardly concentrate, and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in.”

Mrs. Smith leaned forward. “Do you mean they actually chewed on your, uh...equipment?”

“It’s true, Ma’am, yes.. Well, if you’re ready, I’ll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away.”

“Tripod?”

“Oh yes, Ma’am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It’s much too big to be held in the hand very long.”

Mrs. Smith fainted.

Ok. Californication is my new favorite show. I loved the pilot, but it was too soon to pass judgement. Between that and House, I am as close to television content as I can be.

I have nothing else to say right now. Really.

Grrrrrrr. “Hurricane Dean hit the Yucatan Peninsula near the city of Chetumal as the first Category 5 storm to strike Mexico in 19 years.” So as of around 3:30 this morning every news report on Earth only seemed to be worried about the health and safety of Cancun. Meanwhile, the goats and X-Boxes of quaint little villages and minor cities were going down like Monica Lewinski. Katrina was also a Category 5. I hear Houston will be getting Dean’s refugees too. Speaking of Houston, check out this article. “...if you live in Houston, ...the average commuter spends 20.9% of his annual household costs on getting to work”. Amazing, eh? In other, disheartening, news… Paramount dropped BluRay last night in what appears to be a buyoff from the HD-DVD camp. Sad panda.

One last snippet… 1Ds III is here. Someone please buy my 1Ds II body so I can go to 14-bit color RAW format. Mark II bodies are still going for $6999 at B&H, so I’ll take anything over $4500 for the cam plus everything in the original box… including an extra battery since they switch from nickel metal hydride to lithium ion in this release. If you know someone in the market, please pass the info along.

I just got home from Superbad. ROFLCOPTER One of the most entertaining comedies I have seen in years. Period.

...and, consequently, happier than Message in a Bottle.

Let me first start by saying holy fucking shit. I can’t remember crying so much watching a movie. I look like I just squirted habanero juice in my eyes and did a bong hit of tear gas. There was snot and blubbering and everything. Let me also say that I really don’t care for Kevin Costner or just about anything he’s ever done, but Message in a Bottle just kicked me square in the nuts. Now that I got that out of the way, here is a bunch of randomness. A baby squirrel missed a limb on a long jump about 40 feet up yesterday morning and fell to it’s cute death in my backyard. I had to gather its still warm, limp, adorable body and dispose of it before the dogs got over being freaked out by a dead squirrel. “Hey, aren’t these things supposed to haul ass when we seee them?” /boggle. I knew something was up because Henry was tip toeing around the yard like he was up to no good… or was scared… so I went out and looked around. Poor baby. I received some *cough* news *cough* of my sister this weekend that sorta has me off kilter. It was tax free weekend for clothing, but I couldn’t stand the thought of braving the crowds to take advantage of the savings. I bought Henry a hoodie for this winter and a new bed since he left his at grandma’s last visit. Maybe she will remember to bring it home to him when she comes up this weekend.... mmmmmmkay? I actually shot 5 subjects this weekend over the course of 2 days. Out of curiosity, I made a few frames of a local model in infrared. IR light is reflected differently than visible light and when you capture it in a photo we can see, things look… well, different. I thought that if green grass and leafy trees can look all white and candy coated… and light blue skies on a sunshiny day can look dark and ominous… then IR hair and skin should look Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory as well. What I didn’t expect and soon found out was that IR photos of fair skin in the right light often reveal the veins below the skin all zombie-fied. Creepy shit. Not all of them are like that, hence the “certain light” assumption, but I need to experiment more to be sure. Anyhoo, here is infrared Jeny (NSFW) and muted toned Devon (NSFW). I shot another model I worked with a few years ago, but haven’t even looked at half the frames. I start, but then just stop. I am frustrated at my photography not being where it should be. I did a portrait session that I need to get to the lab, but haven’t developed but one RAW from that whole set and I know the couple is waiting on me. Ed called yesterday wanting me to accompany him to Chrome for creative input on set building, textures, furniture, outfits, etc. We were to meet two models down there to go over future shoot plans (his, not mine) and he just wanted my two cents. The place cracked me up. I’d never been before, but when we arrived the doormen working “the rope” and the bouncers wouldn’t let any “single” men in the club. You had to be accompanied by one or more women to gain access. Studio 54 ala H-Town except for the fact that it looked as ghetto as Sam’s Boat and it’s on South Shephard. I was chuckling through my mild irritation. However, the models arrived shortly and the tune changed. Suddenly there were all these signals flying between the security guys to indicate we were ok to get in… you know, like “in the know”. Whatever. Laughable. We stayed for a couple of drinks as we scouted out different angles and vignettes amongst the boom-chicka Roxbury Bros crowd. Today was pretty mild work-wise. I had a meeting this morning that didn’t go so great, but was working on another account all afternoon that seems to be on the up and up. I think I’m about to head out to grab some coffee or something to get over the hangover this movie gave me. What a freaking wrenching experience. I’ll try to find time to process some more shots and share.

ps. I seem to get a buttload of non-spider traffic on this site, but rarely does anyone ever comment. I find that odd. (hint hint)

“well, you wonder why i always dress in black,
why you never see bright colors on my back,
and why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.
well, there’s a reason for the things that i have on.

i wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
livin’ in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
i wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
but is there because he’s a victim of the times.

i wear the black for those who never read,
or listened to the words that jesus said,
about the road to happiness through love and charity,
why, you’d think he’s talking straight to you and me.

well, we’re doin’ mighty fine, i do suppose,
in our streak of lightnin’ cars and fancy clothes,
but just so we’re reminded of the ones who are held back,
up front there ought ‘a be a man in black.

i wear it for the sick and lonely old,
for the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
i wear the black in mournin’ for the lives that could have been,
each week we lose a hundred fine young men.

and, i wear it for the thousands who have died,
believen’ that the lord was on their side,
i wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,
believen’ that we all were on their side.

well, there’s things that never will be right i know,
and things need changin’ everywhere you go,
but ‘til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
you’ll never see me wear a suit of white.

ah, i’d love to wear a rainbow every day,
and tell the world that everything’s ok,
but i’ll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
‘till things are brighter, i’m the man in black.”

I am ever-so-tired. I shot Holley Ann Dorrough today… Playboy Playmate of the Month April 2006. I felt like an amateur because I was so rusty behind the lens. I never really acknowledged how much of my life I just hard stopped when Erin died. I really forgot how to do everything but breath. Anyhoo, I managed to make it through the shoot just like everything else. I almost fell asleep on the way home and had to call a friend just to stay awake and not weave into the median.

My plan was to nap a bit before my second shoot of the day commencing at 7:30. Nay nay. I barely unloaded the truck and dumped CF before my portrait session arrived. Time for a second wind.

Overall it was a productive day. I ended up going to dinner with some friends I hadn’t seen in some time. We visited and often stumbled over topics that made me think of EL‘s absence. She would have had the best time tonight. We were all about hanging with friends… enjoying conversation and simplicities. Even though the emotions don’t evoke instant nausea like they used to, the pain is just is strong within my chest. Thankfully, the tears can take a number until they can be safely soaked up by my pillow.

After our short night out, Steve and Nichole stayed at my place a while for boob-tube and libations. My little furry critters love it when there is company to assess. Come to find out, they are building a home very near mine. It will be nice to have another set of neighbors to spend time with… I’ve been pretty lonely in 2007. I need to rest. I sincerely wish I had some fabulous tale to share this evening, but at the end of the day, it’s just the same sad story.