23 November 2011
22 November 2011
21 November 2011
infinite gorgeousities - - - - > malick sidibe
© malick sidibe, gorgeousity upon gorgeousity, in spirit and faces and in triumph and despite of...mr. sidibe's work has seen a recent (past year or two?) surge in public interest; i didn't see any of his photos until 2009, and now he is in the cannon. we have an acquaintance who can buy what she pleases, and she has a print of his, among others. that's cool. here is one that rattles my heart. and more still i want to make things that rattles others.
17 November 2011
14 November 2011
broadway, 37 (snow shift)
i linger on this corner here in the hopes of seeing those 1 to 2 men i've met who tend to these little corner gardens along broadway, that somehow survive underneath the roaring j, m, and z trains. if you walk down broadway long enough and you decide to make a phone call, you will have to pause every 5-7 minutes for the train to pass overhead, because no one is catching up about SHIT under the j, m, and z trains. i do this every week and every week i get mad at the train that has just kindly delivered me to my temporary place of residence. i see now that i get 'mad' because i am in a rush, everywhere, always...there are accounted for minutes in my life, most of the goddamn time. when my doctor told me this, that i have a 'rushed demeanor' about me, i said, well isn't that just new york? and it is not, as a matter of fact...that i linger turns out to the be the right move, and the noise overhead and around me on this and other stretches of space, is just that. all sorts of noise, enraging or otherwise.
13 November 2011
broadway, 36 (adios mamita)
in truth i've had less nicknames than i would have thought; mamita being everyone's nickname, actually. i realize that i should probably call things and people by their real names, and i certainly do, but my tendency has something to do with Pop and in general how Colombians might enjoy saying "fe-ca" instead of "café." it doesn't matter. i got in trouble once at a temporary place of employment, in sf, early 2007, for nicknaming a supervisor. what i thought was to be a gilded job!@!@ full of "tasks" and "duties" (she took me out to a fancy greek restaurant to woo me - worked) was in fact, not gilded, greek, or dutiful. there were tasks, though. it was at this job i found out that no one in my immediate circle had an annoying voice; to the point of noticing it, i mean. i learned here that there are many professional lines to be drawn at places of employment between girls who all wear black slacks and answer the same phones and their superiors by 2 years, who do the same. it turns out i am a sucker for females around my age with latino last names; but my saudade for that sort of thing has had a few ugly reality checks, so now i don't judge people by apellido...shortly after i made a transition to another temporary job on market street, and had the famous encounter with dina christopher, that monster who once picked snickers bar chocolate (and caramel) out of her teeth with an acrylic pointer fingernail and then touched my computer screen with that same acrylic nail to make a point, as if the screen were anything but a 4th wall of technology, not to be touched at all, ever. when that "job" ended (i was let go because of my attitude, superior i think it was) tater and i set up the dina christopher foundation in dina christopher's name, with a balance of 400 bucks. i think it was the last time tater ever needed to borrow money from me. we called it the dina christopher foundation because that was her fucking name. so i guess i take it back, mamita is not for everyone; careful with that.
10 November 2011
femme fleurs - araki (if you are in paris)
i am not, but someday. i have many messages to deliver to that citta. ©araki
08 November 2011
gettin' it in
this happened on sunday. these kids are like all of my dance teachers plus ruPaul in one. felt right at home, beastin' it out on sunday, etc.
07 November 2011
05 November 2011
03 November 2011
pants interlude (@mtv)
my memories of "acting" include my 4th or 5th grade stint as a "madre" aka i was typecast as a MARM b/c of my trunk shape and hue of hair, the 'jota' in my last name, etc. i wore a long black skirt and have not since. NOT OK LAKEWOOD ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. my point being that for as long as i can remember acting/performing/showing my self has been the last thing i wanted to do - next to chewing broken glass. one year i played the butt of a horse with my good friend erin in the school's production of 'punch+judy' - someone has that VHS in modesto, califas, and when it hurts i know someone is going to post it on the fucking internetz. the time i had to be FDR for a school report was no good either, ditto the time i had to be isadora duncan in the 1st person. whatever, different strokes. acting is like any art - high/low, it can be the most riveting and poignant or the exact opposite...anyhow, a couple of months ago (weeks?!) i met matty in greenpoint, in a maze of a loft, where mtv was shooting on the set of "I Just Want My Pants Back". i came at sunset and got lost on various floors of the massive set. matty left me to my own devices and i hid in various corners with a 28mm while the director + actors + designers + stylists + lighting dudes + producer + writer worked out the intricacies of the scene. in this scene, the blonde arrives to where two other characters are 'chilling' on a couch. she has just had a rigorous if not unsuccessful day of apartment hunting. mcKibbin has some vacancies, no? but to have yelled that on set would have broken the 5th wall of TV production, so i held my tongue and got good grain instead. thanks to matty @MTV for the chance to triple confirm how bad of an actor i would make after witnessing this shoot.
above: writers amending the script outside, cast members between scenes, set still life, baberham reapplying maquillaje, headshots, outfit check/stylist, big primpin', cast on couch/photographer backed into a corner with a 28mm, off-set, cellie checks
how to get your pants back: i just want my pants back, website offish
breezo, 2.0
last night breezo and i chatted via skypeola (see photo) while i spilled tortellini down the drain, fearing i would get another note from my roommate telling me to not do exactly that. anyway, london is in his future, and though it may be hard to see whilst IN IT, he's covered a lot of ground [in timberlands or via bike tire, also photographically]. see new breeze here: phil breezy. i'm partial to the canada shit (ryan gosling and i were both born in ontario thank you you're welcome) such as the motorcycle and the wide open roads and this contemporary thing (a type of distance/a type of photographically aware gaze) is happening that i'm not sure breeze is aware of but he is in fact a contemporary (and also contra: a cynic/a classicist) so if you HAD to place him, a modern tag makes sense. his "vacancy" sign works for me in a way many photos-i-must-read do not, and in an overt/covert kind of way. blows me away! and harkens back to ye old 1930s photographers - you know i'm right. i suppose that it 'blows me away' wouldn't make it subtle, by any means, but i call it so, maybe 'cause the i know the dude himself, and because there is so much intellectualizing and pomp in photography today that work like his seems grounded, decent, and humble. a man could use the phrase "faffing around" however often he wished if his shit was solid like, like this.
01 November 2011
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