Wednesday, 31 December 2014
Babadook
Watched a really fucked up horror movie, mainly because it was really well done and because I am so brain dead that I hardly felt anything, even though it touched on subjects that I am perhaps most vulnerable to: losing a spouse, solitude, losing the grip on my sanity, a story getting the better of me, a house having too many rooms and dark corners ....
Really good shit, this. And to think there was a time I couldn't watch Bones because it was too scary.
Sunday, 28 December 2014
It's a few days till the end of the fair and as my mental stability abandons me from wear, so does my health tip slowly. It's only a few days left. I will be fine. But fuck me sideways how much pain I'm in. My head is killing me and I haven't been able to have sex in five days. I cannot remember a time I would go five days without an orgasm. I'm tired and slipping. I run around half an hour with a camera and have a terrible need for sleep afterwards.
I've taken myself off FB for a while. I'm going to need silence and solitude for the weeks to come, to get my head on straight. Fans and potential customers can wait. I can see fairly clearly of what I want my quality to be, but as I observe the quality or lack thereof in others, I can also see the tricky slope ahead. Funny what a deep passion drives me and I don't even recall why I have fallen so in love with photography. It is one of the three constancies in life. Gods know I am in dire need of constancy. I am stability, I am loyalty. But I am also passionate far beyond reason. Even my own. Which is now almost dead.
First I need to rest. I need to reboot. I would love it if I could go a month without drama, but knowing myself, that will probably be a day. I just so happen to love drama. But seriously, I really need to rest and get myself healthy and sane again. If it gets known an orgasm almost exploded my head, where will my reputation as a crazy sex fiend be?
Saturday, 27 December 2014
Thursday, 25 December 2014
General's line of the week:
"Cupcake, may I buy or make myself a long pipe, so that I could smoke that wonderful sweet tobacco that I sometimes catch in the street?"
"Hell to the no. The only thing you can smoke, is if I put a tobacco leaf on my head and you are on your knees."
O.o
"Hell to the no. The only thing you can smoke, is if I put a tobacco leaf on my head and you are on your knees."
O.o
Wednesday, 24 December 2014
What color of rage are you?
Slowly and surely approaching the end of my wits regarding the fair. I am so tired, the body keeps trying to get sick, although it isn't sure how and I am starting to get migraines during sex, as if being improperly fed and hydrated and having constant muscle ache wasn't fun enough. Drej and I are giggling almost all the time, in a state of perpetual shock/hysterics, two giddy idiots, finding almost everything funny. We are swearing like two drunk old sailors and threatening to be rude to people if they ask us another stupid question. (We've made a list.)
I am not saying this wasn't marginally fun. It's a week left, between both holidays, whi9ch will either be a complete dry season or will prove the sales amounts equal to that of last year (so far not quite). But either way, at this point I never want to sit on another fair ever again. But that's just me at the end of my wit talking.
I did come up with some intense photography inner monologues, though. I mean, they weren't intended to be inner, I wanted these to be told to people, but I kind of just want to learn and understand them myself, first. I am glad that I truly live and breathe photography, unlike a lot of so-calleds. Example - my new definition of portrait (vs. reportage, in that example)
A portrait is not an event. Portrait is math with attitude on it. It is an open gate invitation to someone's life story.
There's a longer version, with more words in it, but this is the nutshell.
I'll explain on example soon enough. If only my fucking batteries weren't dying so quickly in the cold...
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