30 October 2011
29 October 2011
i recognized this kid from vimeo/youtube/twitter/tumblr before i actually saw him in real life down in zucotti park.
28 October 2011
24 October 2011
23 October 2011
HOLY SHIT?! i think. i think holy shit at the presumption, how preposterous it all sounds, how magical, how false, how possible, how vapid...holy shit...
i ask her if i'll marry, she says yes, and he'll worship you, perhaps believing that "to be worshipped" had anything to do with what i imagine when i imagine it. my ego seeks the opposite, but fine, gabi...i ask her "you've lived a long life what is the key? the thing? the secret?" she says, faith in god...i say i don't believe in god she says why not? i say i wasn't raised that way, that i have a different type of faith...she tells me to believe in god and that someday i'll find out that everything she's saying is "completely" true.
what i mean is: don't use these words with me, i take them seriously...
she says: "let me light a candle for you...for your future, for your future love, for the man...let me put a name to the man..."
i say i already have that name and that face though just as frequently it's a strange face with a stranger name and they're all the goddamn same until someone fills it out like a fucking balloon with breath from his lungs. then we twist it, and we're twisted...la cross-eyed stares at me as i leave her grandmother's table. i get 50 feet and turn back around for a photo. i am dishonest in my photo request and she smells it, because Manipulation is the new CK scent and i'm wearing it. she takes another puff and says "sweetie i have arthritis and these are not beautiful, but whatever makes you happy...you want to take a picture? whatever makes you happy." i say: rest them on your knees please, and this make me happy."
shaky focus and shaky palms kept me in well past 9, although i think i stayed in precisely so that i could give la gabi the benefit of the doubt and think to myself, what if? what of that man, who i meet at nine o clock...it was, is, and will be my absolute pleasure, absolute being another word that i take very seriously.
22 October 2011
20 October 2011
19 October 2011
from harper's magazine: "plants may be black on planets with more than one sun."
film to come, i thx serge for letting me use his yashica, and hope that my internal light meter is still on point.
18 October 2011
17 October 2011
© peter helles
peter and i met in april of 2009, at vanessa's dumplings before leah and i went to beauty bar. at their table sat a group of beautiful ones with beautiful lines and attributes, all healthy, all sturdy, all bilingual, all bikers, all photographers, all excellent conversationalists with impeccable presences and eye contact. or rather eye kontakt, i should say, for in the end: whatever, everything is everything, etc. etc. etc. that night i was interrupted mid-conversation in front of everyone by a huge paw that reached across the circle to caress my cheek to maybe derail my emphatic story telling, or to trip me up, my thoughts, i don't know. regardless, it fucking tripped me up because i do not read stories i feel them as they write themselves. that weekend we found ourselves at another party. he arrived with the same group of friends, and i, having weaseled my way out of another birthday gathering, found myself talking with him in that famous doorway of mc kibbin for quite some time. amidst the noise and lollypop sucking (that shit was tacky - but did actually work on 2 countrymen) he asked me to sing him a song. he liked my voice; it was smooth, so sing. was it sing or tell him a story? sing, i think. because i failed...nevertheless, it was an honest, foreign-esque request and what i remember always was my gut feeling that it was him who was the sweet one, who deserved attention, and when i talked to him further i knew his photographs were going to have been made with a decent heart and a leveling gaze. i remember now how he talks and how he walks and how his throat moves below the surface when he is formulating words that come out of that reserved mouth, and that is more than i can say for many parties i've been to where dudes mostly chatter on about themselves and i am already millions of miles away in my head, in the future, with the future, or tomorrow morning on my bike in a class in my datebook - anywhere but here, no? anyway, this year we have been in touch a bit because of his beautiful website. i knew he would not be offended when i told him that i wanted to lend a hand in editing some of the project statements. i edited some of his words not because i wanted to 'correct' anything but because with photos of this magnitude/beauty there is no need to get tripped up where no tripping is necessary - and we all know that now, right? i also may have a small folder on my desktop where i cattily collect screenshots of typos on photographers' websites, and i didn't want peter to be a part of that collection, etc. etc. etc...
15 October 2011
14 October 2011
today i ruled out tattoos, thought that i would never side with the rich even if i married a rich man (ha ha!!!), had a lovely man tell me "remember! your winter coat is sleeveless AND a mid-driff" while my shoulders strained with 8-lb weights, and organized the fuck out of my negatives. of the 9 wrong rolls of film i brought to the icp last night here is 1 right one, with thorns, red, and blue, and sun, and everything. beyond that, the space around this photo stretches from 1994-2011, but you don't get to see all of that. of the 35 mm rolls, i cannot even begin to see what i have. my workflow is unparalleled. i throw out negatives, i do. out with the old, out muthafucka.