Archive for March, 2008

They talk of a return to nature, I wonder where they went

March 26, 2008

I really enjoy the springtime. I used to be a winter child, but since living in the city I cannot say that winter is something I look forward to. Especially this year, there was no snow whatsoever. I grew up in Maine, snow is something you learn to love. But here, with global warming and a generally messed up ecosystem, we feel short of any snow this season. But spring is here. And with it, the rut that I have been in concerning my photography has really lifted.

Something about the last few months really kept me away from getting excited about my work. I guess it probably has a lot to do with being in a relationship that was not necessarily what I needed to be in. But with that freedom, and the shift in the weather, and shooting for a project and actually enjoying the shooting and being excited about printing… it is as if my whole outlook on Photography has gone back to where it used to be. It was the motivation I needed.

In my “Critical Issues in Photography” class last night, we were talking about landscape photography and how different people use it. The instructor asked who shoots landscapes and one hand went up. Then a couple people called me out on shooting landscapes (I just do not like to pigeon-hole myself since I do not really have a niche yet). We got into a discussion about how landscapes are more of a personal experience than something to talk about. The professor asked for an example. I said, “Well let me put it this way. I have seen this whole country. I may not have been there, but I know what it looks like and I know what’s there.”

I have been taking myself back to nature when it comes to my work. But I have other projects to work on as well. But it really impresses me when I can look at the theme of my portraits and fit them into the various themes in my landscapes or other work. Maybe I have a niche; I just have to figure out what it is.

It’s nothing to cry about, cause we’ll hold each other soon

March 20, 2008

It has been years since I have been afflicted with insomnia. I thought I was over it. But alas, it returns. This week I have managed to tally up a total of about six hours of sleep. I will be tired, exhausted even, but once I lay down I just cannot seem to put myself to sleep. There is nothing as frustrating as lying for six hours and not getting a wink of sleep. Especially when you know you have to be up early the next day for a full day of things that need be done.

Last night I did not sleep for a minute. I put on some relaxing music, crawled into bed, shivered until the sheets were warm, cuddled with my body pillow and other pillows and nothing. That was it. I heard the whole CD to completion and just continued to lie, wide awake, staring into the darkness. I rolled over to check the clock, and it was about twenty minutes before I had to get up for class. So I said, “fuck it,” and got out of bed. I went to class all day where we did not really do much of anything, but I talked with my professor about the current project that I cannot settle on an idea for. She talked me through it, told me that the idea I liked was not very good but the first one I came up with was excellent. She did not know, but when she told me my idea blew, I got upset (sleep deprivation really messes you up emotionally). I left class for a bit and had one of those “Pull yourself together!” speeches with myself. Her advise for me was to work things through and not beat myself up so much on getting things perfect the first time. Something I needed to hear… Something I will need to hear again and again.

I have to work an eleven-hour shift tomorrow. But I can already feel like I will not be getting much sleep tonight…

Mony, mony, like a pony

March 17, 2008

I am not usually the type to do this, but the time has come. We are going to talk about boys! [screams from the audience] I know, I know, please, contain yourselves.

The ex. Over the last week I have been on spring break. I cannot afford to go anywhere, so I stayed in the city. I did not tell my boss I was on break because I needed time to myself. The last couple months have been real tasking on me. We had not been talking for a few weeks, because I had to cut him off. It sucks, but it was completely necessary. I do not want to be in a relationship (with anyone, not just him, but particularly not him at this point), and he clearly still wants to be with me. I tried to be real understanding at first, but he never seems to understand that when I say “no” that I actually mean “no.” Then he will go as far as to tell me that I never cared about him, etc, etc. Lies. So I had to cut him off, it was a really destructive month for the both of us so talking needed to cease. But I let him back in, we were talking and things seemed like it was okay. But alas, it was all a facade he was putting on for me. We hung out once after we broke up and it was real emotional. But that was before I began a serious separation where even talking was out. Time passed, I knew he was doing better with things, and he seemed to have a grip on his life again. He wanted to talk. I said no, but then saw him on the street that same day and decided that we both should be able to handle it. We decided to go to lunch. It was a great lunch. Got to catch up on things, everything kind of had that rejuvenated feel… until the end. I could tell his only motive for this lunch was to win me back. When I have already told him I am not ready for a relationship of that severity (even though we had already dated for ten months–I know, I fucked up and sent the wrong signals–but it was too much for me). The morning after he sent me a text saying something about how he and I were meant to be together (or something along those lines that scare the hell out of a twenty year old coming from a thirty two year old). I am not the type to be a trophy, and that is how I felt at times.

So beyond that, I know I need to date and try to be social (since I am plenty anti-social as it is). As soon as word got around my workplace (which has very high traffic of the gay community) I knew that I was bound to be asked out. And then it happened. I got a missed connection, you know, the things on Craigslist.org where you tell someone that you saw them out and hope you can meet up again later (a way to ask someone out without having any balls to do so. Its safe, so the community here loves it). They are real strange, but I read them religiously. Either way, I knew it was for me, but I was not about to respond to this kid. He is beautiful (that body… whoa), always happy, always telling me to smile. But I know he is not that bright… And I need the mind to fuel my attractions. But I had decided in previous weeks that if anyone was to ask me out, to force myself to go. He finally asked for my number and asked me to go to a movie. I went. It was fun, but I felt like he was real disappointed in me for being who I am. I am not the consistently happy person that people think I should be. “You have a beautiful smile, why not show it more?” That is the kind of questions that I get to hear on a fairly regular basis. But I am happy, I just do not wear my heart on my sleeve, and I never will. Anyways, I am not a self conscious person, and I am aware of what I look like and carry almost no insecurities (with a touch of arrogance). But people never see me as that, apparently I am tormented and depressed all the time. But hey, if that is how people want to read me, so be it, I know I am happy. So anyways, this beautiful man… Only a few years older than I, amazing body, always happy, but something about him really throws me off. I mean, beyond his non-existent brilliance. I feel like the whole time we were walking from the movie to the restaurant that he was showing me off to the public, as if I was supposed to get recognized for being with him. It was strange. But again, I am not the type to be a trophy. Maybe he and I can be friends, but there is where I draw the line.

A few months ago, my old roommate wanted to introduce me to one of her new housemates. I was still dating the ex at the time, so naturally I wrote her off. But I finally met him over break. I went over to the house for baking and board games. I know most of the eight people that live in the house (I was to move in there at one point, but decided it was not for me), so it was like seeing a bunch of friends I had not seen in a while. We ate cookies and played apples for apples, and I still had not put together that this one new guy that I met was the guy my old roommate had wanted me to meet. It was real late, and I had no intentions of riding my bike all the way back home. They had plans of building a fort in the living room and sleeping in it, well, five of us did. We built the fort and crawled in ready to watch a movie. He and I were pushed up next to each other, but I never thought anything of it, I still had not figured out that he was the guy that I should meet… I still kind of thought he was straight… So anyways, movie on, and I am bound to fall asleep. I made it through most of the movie, but at some point I woke up and the movie was still going. But I was nestled up on his chest… “Whatever,” I thought to myself, “these people aren’t the type to judge anyone.” The movie ended and he crawled down into the sheets and cuddled with me for the majority of the night. No complaints from me, that is for certain. The next morning, after I left I had put two-and-two together. He was the one she wanted me to meet.

Fast forward to a few days later when my old roommate and I had plans of going dancing. I asked her who was going and she only knew of a few of us. I told her to ask him to come. I had been out with other friends that night, for happy hour and such so I was quite inebriated by the time I met up with the dancing crowd. Actually, to be honest, I am still shocked I rode my bike through traffic to get where I was going. But anyways. I walked my drunk ass into their house and greet everyone. I see him standing there, so I wave and smile but try to play it cool. So I am antsy for some dance-y, but I did not know who all was going. I asked him if he was coming. He responded, “I can’t dance, but I’ll go.” Fucking liar. He may be very white, but the boys got some moves on him. So we go dancing and everyone is having a good time. I only know the people I went with (I am not part of that scene so much) and everyone else knew everyone else. So he was off with friends, old roommates, etc, dancing with everyone. I danced with who I knew, but kept an eye out on everyone. I love to dance, and I know I can really tear it up if I am comfortable enough… and well, I was wasted so comfort was all there was. He would come back and dance with me from time to time, just enough to make me feel wanted. We danced all night and finally headed back to their house. It was a little past two and I knew I was not about to get on my bike to ride all the way back to my place. He told me I could stay with him. So I did. We hopped into bed and cuddled for a bit (and by this time we were very sober). His hand on my chest, his face in the side of mine, he whispered, “You have an incredible body.” Normally I do not take compliments like that very well, but something about the situation made it seem like he was honest. (Usually I feel like people are just trying to get something when they say shit like that.) We cuddled and made out for a while, and then went to bed. We stayed in bed until one in the afternoon, talking and whatnot. Our stomaches were an orchestra, so we decided to get up and make breakfast. I stayed until around three o’clock, talking and really get to know him on another level. He is in school now, wants to be a nurse (which is perfect because my other option from art school was med school). I will say I am excited about him, but at the same time, I know I am so busy. But whatever happens, happens, right? I am just going to live for a while.

As a family, we grow

March 15, 2008

I got a call from my brother last night while I was waiting for a table at my favorite mexican restaurant in the city (that I know of). I answered, “Hey Joe, what’s poppin’?” (Yeah, I talk like a schmuck on the phone with my family and friends.) He responded quickly with something that still resonates in my ears, “Hey Uncle Steve.”

Hold up. Uncle?

I keep thinking to myself, “I’m going to be an uncle!? That’s so weird.” But then I snap back into reality and put things into perspective, “Joe’s going to be a father……. Whoa.” He got married to his high school girlfriend just last September, and now they are preggers! Insanity! Exciting!

My family always joked about who was going to be the first one with a kid. Joe, the oldest, was not first. It was supposed to be the other brother, the fuck up (but we love him anyways). He was supposed to make a mistake and end up a father. Then my sister was to get pregnant somehow, and THEN Joe was to have a kid. I am usually left out of that whole conversation, and that is completely acceptable. Everyone knows I want to have a kid, but no one wants to think too hard about it… but that is not the point of this entry. I am to be an uncle. And my oldest brother is to be a Daddy!

Inner beauty

March 9, 2008

On Friday night I decided that I had to leave my apartment for the first time of the day. I gathered myself and ventured into the Revelation-like weather. Gusting winds and immense amounts of rain pounding the sidewalk as you pass by. The grey sky built on itself, layers of grey, upon grey, upon grey. Truly beautiful in its own regard. I duck into the subway station.

After getting to my destination I appear slowly into the wilds of downtown. People everywhere, cars hustling, and the calm of the storm. I walk east, avoiding eye contact with a slight downward tilt of my head. Music is playing in my ears, one foot in front of the other. “Sir. Excuse me, sir?” I look around. No one, I must be losing it. “I’m over here.” I look up. No one. “In the limo.” I look right, a woman–bleached hair, skanky with a South Jersey flair–with her eyes peering out of a window of a white limousine. “Show me your boobs!” I must have not understood. “Show me your boobs. Come on!” I laugh her off and she drives on.

Red light. I catch up to the limo. I look up and she has her tits pressed against the glass with her head poking out of the window. How classy. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“That is even less enticing,” I said.