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Winter and stuff... I'll post more when the headache passes...

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. 

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?

SNOW :D

Holy sheep!

It's actually snowing! :D

What color rage am I? I am fucking charcoal.

Slow day at the fair post-festum

Although feeling unusually angry, passionately so, even, it was a slow, drab post-Christmas day and I spent it bothering people with a camera. Not my best work, but I am hardly still coherent. The other days I miss-introduced my own self. I'm not kidding. Off to the second diner now.

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

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...

Three weeks in, one more left. Give or take a day or two ...

Lots of fun stuff happening around, but there's so much of it and I am so tired most of the time, things happen and I can't really prove it with enough zest :D Example, the General chose to walk from the party again and this time I met him half way, so that places TWO idiots (three, if you count the dog) walking a very long walk in the middle of the night in the middle of winter - and it was wonderful. But I sleep A LOT and I by now HAVE to have sex every morning, because the body cools down so much that the dorsal musculature gets so cool and so tense I nigh cry from pain. I have to get them relaxed and warm again, or I wouldn't be able to sleep at all. 

There is a lot of very pleasant stuff going on with the people who come to the stand - sometimes, like last night, just as I was closing up and the display was a mess, a couple came and bought a bundle, amazed at my stile and how playful and pixie it was and we talked and they were really glad I paint and I was really glad they were glad. Their energy completely uplifted me - and then I went to see the Hobbit for the third time and only then noticed that at the end, between Thorin and Azog, Thorin ALLOWS Azog to kill him, deliberately, just so that he could get the chance to do the same. It's a very Jin move. Nasty.

I shot these Serbian folklore dancers, which were really cool, and then I had a long, hard inner discussion on whether, if it was ANY other photographer, I would send them to the organizers to show that I better deserve the position of their photie, but because they mean nothing to me and he means fuzzy warm thoughts to me, I did no such thing. He was told his aren't good enough. But I like him and until he turns out to be just as a snake as everyone else, I want him to enjoy his job. I live and breathe photography and I would really fucking hate to see him not do the same because the clients are ALWAYS dicks. Like a child he would pose and let me do things to his camera I would otherwise only do with a condom - like put my card into his machine and then use the flash and the lenses and his MarkX to shoot him, just to test the lens. I would never let anybody do such things with my camera. I consider these possessions to be supernaturally intimate. But he would say 'do it yourself, I want you to learn how to use this one' and I would adore him for it. LoL, of course the settings I use are entirely different than what he uses. He's on ISO5000, I use ISO125. I use M, he uses something else. Ap priority? Dunno. I swear by my 50mm prime, he's in love with a 85. 85 is too cold for me. You have to stand further away. I think portraiture is better than sex. He would remind me from time to time, that we are both married. Silly little brown-eyed creature.

Here's some of the folklore dancers (and now I know how to do the basic circlet dance :D :)

And here's him as Iro (or, probably, as The General, considering I was looking for the angle and expression (and semi subconsciously features) identical to that of G.) Can't hardly put my seal on that photo, seeing as it was done with none my gear.I love the huge eyes and the small wet mouth, tough. I'd love to break my knuckles on those cheekbones in some odd, old musky story ... :P