Wednesday, 21 May 2014

"Maddie on things" - best doggie book ever :D

This campaign, a set of photos (and there are hundreds by now) by Theron Humprey, is meant to raise money or just awareness about dogs from shelters. Maddie proved to be the most patient, strong and dextrous mutt out there :D This is their site: http://maddieonthings.com/ and I just can't enough of her...
















Tuesday, 20 May 2014

Photties version of Hell


The last coffee



Most people don't get to know when the last coffee with someone is going to be – life is just rolling on and then one day a change comes and you never get to have coffee with them again. It’s just a shift in seasons. That’s why I never leave anything unsaid. Most people don’t get to exercise this sort of commitment in the Real world. Not to themselves, at least. I am too old and far too loved not to know when crazy comes to town. Like a string you keep on tugging – and then it breaks – I always feel deep and rich sadness and then there is calmness and good memories again.  

I will miss my job at the movie theater like a bitch. This was such a fun time. I actually really liked every minute of it – there were only two instances in which a customer was rude and I was too tired to parry, but there were million scenes of friendliness and chatter. I miss a myriad of excellent things that I experienced there daily already - I will miss making the plans. Not so much being treated like the village idiot, but I will miss the lessons learnt.

I will miss the old ladies, chatty Cathies that loved the films and loved the books and love this city. I will miss the artist caste of this town, coming in opinionated and passionate. I will miss Niko, stomping in unexpectedly with his scowl and a pack of orphans, like Snufkin with his 27 kids. I will miss the waitresses. I will miss the operator and his strange, strange otherworldly patience with the world. I will miss the other 300 avid cinephiles, and their secret lists. All this inspired me to pursue other careers in culture. I developed vast ambitions for it, and an odd sense of encouragement from everyone I met.

I am not designed for serfdom. Too much of an absolute passion in everything I do. I am not designed to be content with credit. I only do as long as it makes me happy. I love to work. Don’t love being told what to do, funny enough. Leave me alone, let me make my magic. There will be some tactical regrets, obviously. The balcony will be one. That was an amazing balcony. The movies. Clearly. New friends. It is too easy to say ugly things about quiet people. The last casualty will probably be the newly made contacts. Ah, the quality of my performance. Ah, my childish inability to take the bullshit. Ah, being compared to my sister. Nay, ye Gods, anything but that!

LOL. 

Monday, 19 May 2014

Wise thoughts from smarter folk..

I know it's dumb to quote from books you haven't read, but I just found this one, literally in the bottom of the bag, and it's really good. It hit me straight where I needed it to hit me - the chink in my armor.

      "Dignity and self respect are worth so much, paying with them is always too pricey."
   (By some cool dude Jorge Bucay)

Sunday, 18 May 2014

The Vlog

Don't worry my darling blog :D I will not neglect you - like all media, new media only encourages more of the old :D
This is still shaky, but working on it. Maaaany quirks and dents to smooth over. Practice, practice :P

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g4DFP4MZF_Q

Friday, 16 May 2014

Making a promo portrait for future vlog...


Found this odd dig site on the way home...


Wednesday, 14 May 2014

Excerpt from/for 'Goose'



This is the world as I favor it: everything is voluptuous and green. The world is mating with itself and everything is being born. Even tiny snakes are hatching, according to roadkill where I walk. The forests all look enchanted. They look like an impenetrable barrier around the white city with orange roofs and foamy fountains. The sky is a deep, passionate blue, full of fat little whipped cream white and brooding silver clouds. It’s hot, though not painfully; it’s windy, but not uncomfortably. The morning was crisp – birds will agree – they certainly sang their puffy little lungs out to bring about this endlessness of color and sharp shadows. The evening will be spicy and moist, just as poignant as thieves and their lovers like it. Poems will be half written. Money will be half forgotten. Baseborns will come out and ladies will hide the faces from sun. This part of the city feels like another country. I don’t frequent it often enough. Narrow, stone streets and ice-cream the flavor of rhubarb. Twice I consider drawing my camera – first to shoot a pair of shirtless youths, practicing balance on a rope between two old pines and the second when wind picks up last year’s leaves around two white-haired old ladies. But this day doesn’t pretend to be immortalized. It’s an infusion of pep as it is. Mine. All mine. I am a sneaky little succubus of everything today.