"It's not personal, Sonny. It's strictly business."

Movie still - The Godfather

It's not personal, Sonny. It's strictly business. - Michael Corleone to Sonny - The Godfather (see movie clip below)

When in doubt, take it personally - Ollie

Nobody really gives a fuck about you, it is up to you to make your art important.
Don't go against your intuition.
Two choices in life - doing it or becoming bullshit.
 - Duane Michals

I need to tip-toe around this topic since some of the parties involved may read this.  I recently heard of a photo project that some acquaintances completed. A few of the key people in it knew I had a strong history with very similar projects, especially with this subject, material and theme.  I know they've seen my work and it is as good as the stuff I've seen from the project.  For some reason though no one thought to tell me about it or ask me to join.

At first I was furious.  How dare they do something they know I have done in the past and have very strong work to contribute.  Are they running a good old boys/girls club on this?  Did I alienate myself from their group?  How could they forget me?

After stewing on this perceived slight, I went to the final meeting of my NYC travel group to choose the final photos for our book and exhibition/gallery showing.  We each put up our top two or three dozen images and had to narrow it down to six for the book and three for the exhibit (the book and exhibit could overlap).  I had four themes for my photos, Sex in the City, On the Sidewalks, In the Museums, and The Usual Suspects (The usual sights of the city.)  Our instructor, Ron, facilitated the redaction exercise.  We went as a group and chose the final six and three for each person.  The individual photographer had a major say concerning his/her own choices, but we had to look at it as a complete book of 16 photographers and how all the photos would work together.

We came to my images second and they were ruthless.  Ron and others were saying things like:
"This one doesn't interest me. "
"Cliche."
"No point to this photo"
"This doesn't say anything about NYC."

I got quiet and softly said, "Ouch."  Ron then said, "Look, we want the best book we can make.  The critique and selection process is hard, but that is how it is.  If you ever hear art and photo directors for magazines and books during their selection process, it is ruthless.  If you are looking at getting an MFA, you had better get used to this type of moment, because it will be 100 times tougher and happen all the time."

We got down to my final six images.  I was hurt that a few others were not selected, but see how these six work together and were actually some of my favorites from the beginning.  It hurt, but it worked.  From that moment on though, I chose to be ruthless in my opinions of the others' work if I felt it did not live up to what should be their six best.  It's strictly business getting the best book.  It isn't personal.

That is the rub though.  Art is personal.  When others critique and pull out my favorite photos, it feels like they are ripping a part of me out as well.  In my cold rational mind, I understand appreciate the role of redaction in selecting a body of work.  I wrote two long posts about it in July.

In that instant, I learned two things that lead to a tie-in to the original issue.

1. Redaction is crucial.  Only the best should be shown.
2. If I am going to go into this for a new career, I need to get a thicker skin and be able to defend my work better when presenting it.

Movie Videos & Movie Scenes at MOVIECLIPS.com 
After thinking about those two lessons, I looked at our group photo from the trip taken with the great photographer Duane Michals and I remembered his wise words.
 
Nobody really gives a fuck about you, it is up to you to make your art important.
This quote truly applies to the art world and business.  No one gives a fuck about me, my work, and how I feel about it.  We wanted the best book.  The images chosen from my group may not be all my best, but they work best for the book.

The same goes true for the acquaintance who did not bother to ask me to participate in her project.  In all likelihood, she forgot about me or if she had thought of me, I didn't have the cache, history, portfolio, and prior body of work to part of her project.   It probably was business on that decision, and personal friendships should not have any part of business.  She and her peers are not in business to do me a favor unless I can offer them something back of value as well.   In other words, they really don't give a fuck about me.

Now what I have to figure out is how I can be included in the next project and find out why I wasn't considered for this one.  From that I will learn and be ready for future opportunities.  It may not be with them, and it may be a better one.

Don't go against your intuition.
I had obviously chosen the final 6 photos as part of the larger group I presented.  Some part of me told me to include them and the rational part of me knew that any 6 could have been chosen.  The final 6 are good and I am proud of them.  My intuition was right.


My intuition about my work that is very similar, and probably in the same league or better than the stuff I've seen in the project I was not included in tells me they missed an opportunity for some great stuff of mine.  That is my fault for not putting myself out their more, not theirs.   In a way, it is their loss, but not really.   My work is probably meant to be somewhere else and they got what they wanted.

I know what is good of my work.  Nobody else gives a fuck about it or me, unless I get out there with it and force them to look at it.  Most will say no.  A few will say yes.  The important thing to remember is: It's not personal, [Karl]. It's strictly business.  That is how I will view your role with my work as well.  You are just business when it comes to my art.



Two choices in life - doing it or becoming bullshit.
That pretty much sums up the other two quotes.  I just have to do it.  Everything else is bullshit.

SPECIAL NOTE: Thanks to Ron and crew for the great trip, experiences and for the creative project.  We created some good stuff.  By the way, I do give a fuck about your stuff.

Work Cited

WTF?

I  had an experience in the last week that feels like the burning pain of bleach going through my veins(hyperbole practice).  Somebody took something of mine manipulated it, and grew it into something more.  Usually I am happy about that as it is part of creating for the world and the evolution of thought.  We want our creations to grow beyond what we initially planned, with one caveat - citation or credit.

In my life as a scientist/teacher/student, I've written the most boring, dry articles about important stuff.  One key point my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Romaine, taught us during book reports was writing the bibliography of my sources.  In college, Dr. Haddad drilled into our heads (appropriate for a behaviorist professor) the APA Style for citing sources.  Twenty-two years later, I still know where to place every period and comma.  It came in handy when I wrote my master's thesis.

It is crucial to cite sources and material in art and criticism as well.  If I am writing a critique on Diane Arbus and read an article on how her depression affected her subject matter, I had better cite that source.   I believe the same is true when art is appropriated for new purposes.

Some of Shepard Fairey's troubles for his famous Hope image of President Obama stem from appropriating an AP image as the basis of his this piece without citing the source of the original image.  He went on to selling the image on merchandise and making lots of money from it.

There

I am a big fan of appropriating art and growing it past the original piece.  In 2004, my friend Scott Tellington over at photosig.com took the image of Leila and Hana above and a few others and told me he wanted to play with them.  As long he didn't do anything to malign the image and gave me credit, I was happy to let him do it.   He made the combined image below.  Even though he went in a direction I would not have gone, I am happy with his work and the credit for the source image.

The Petals of the Passion Flower

In yesterday's post, I uploaded a video featuring a song I appropriated by Lucinda Williams, Just in Time.  This song has a very sensual erotic sound and lyrics that I felt matched the photos I paired with it.  At the end of the song, I cited her as the source of the music.  Since I do not plan to make money from that video I feel it is fair to use it in that way.  If Ms. Williams, or her representatives, don't like it, I will work with them to a mutually satisfactory conclusion.  That is just being respectful to another artist.

Another time I appropriated another artist's work are my photos of the projection of Salvador Dali's Dream Inspired By A Bee Flying Around A Pomegranate A Second Before Waking Up on art model, Candace Nirvana.  Whenever I display this image, I mention Dali's title or provide a link to my blog post introducing this series to give him credit for his role in my piece.  I hope Dali would approve of my appropriation of his beautiful piece.


I admit to not always citing my sources in this blog, especially for images I posted in the beginning of it.  I tried to put "source unknown" if I could not find the photographer/artist/author/creator's information.  In hindsight, I am going to review this policy to see if I should err on the side of caution and remove them until I can find the source.Dali and Nirvana 4

Now, back to why am I feeling like a victim of theft.  To the artist who appropriated something of mine, knowing it was mine, and evolved/refined it much further,  I am not upset by your appropriation and use.  It is actually a very good piece of work.  Just give me credit for the seed that bloomed for you.

Resting

Leila - 042610 - Desat

I had a full weekend of yard work, a wedding, painting a relative's car bumper, and more yard work.  All of these were rewarding and worth doing, but I was saddened to hear about a friend who is being hurt by another. 

My backyard is starting to look good for the upcoming summer.   I removed all the old bark chip from the past four years, repaired the ground cloth under it and then put down a cubic yard of new chip.  There is still one huge task of pulling up a stone area and putting ground cloth under it to keep the clover from overtaking it.  After that, I have to do the usual tree pruning, cutting back the neighbor's invasive bamboo and ivy, harvesting meyers lemons, and general maintenance.

I photographed the wedding for fun.  I was not the designated photographer.  I found that I am much better at capturing the special moments rather than setting up the formal portraits.  Since this was for fun, I did none of the latter.

Leila - 042610 - Color

I've noticed since I took a few auto body classes and did much of the work on my truck many acquaintances ask for help.  I am pretty good at telling them if I can do the job or not and the quality they should expect out of it.  For this project, I assured him a "20/20" job.  The rear bumper will look good from 20 feet away or driving by at 20mph or faster.  It turned out a little better than expected.

I will not go into detail, but I heard from a friend who is being screwed over by a former partner.  The whole situation sucks and from the looks of it, everyone is going to get hurt in the end.  Some have already inflicted pain and I see more hurt coming.  All this makes me wonder who can be trusted any more.  So much for the honorable handshake. 

As for photos, I found this little gem of Leila hiding out in my old computer files.  Sometimes I need to play with a simple image and get back to basics.  Obviously I experimented with it in Lightroom.  The more I experiment with de-saturating the image, but keeping some color tonality, the more I like it.  For this image though, I think I like the color version better.  Nothing against color or b/w in general, but it is fun to play on this new-to-me avenue.  I may have to write more about it later... or not.

Leila - 042610 - BW

To be... Cognoscor Ergo Sum

How many pointless Twitter/Facebook updates do you get that say something like, "Had great dinner at Wendy's, now a beer."? I hate those. I am also guilty of writing a few as well.

Above is a little clip from the Colbert Report commenting on online social networking. Is the only reason we play on Facebook, My Space, write blogs, and Twitter is to be known?

"Cognoscor Ergo Sum - I am known, therefore I am."

At what point am I sharing stuff just so people know that I exist? Am I afraid that I am such an insignificant dot that I must wave my hands and publish all this stuff about myself so I have meaning?

The answers are complicated. I write, create art, and do most everything I do for myself. I appreciate comments, praise and criticism, but it is mostly for me. I hope my stuff entertains, pleases, angers, and makes others think. I guess that is the boundary point then. There is a part of me that plays on these social networking sites to draw attention to my existence, but I also do it to hopefully give my audience something of value. I hope my audience gets a nugget to think about, an image to ponder on, or something to chuckle about.

I guess my intent then is both self serving and hopefully of service. That is like most things we do in our existence. We do them because we all get something out of it.

WTF???

Lost in London - 2004
Photo by Karl

Most translate that as "What the fuck?" Lately, I've read it as "Why the fuck?"

Why the fuck would you say that?

Why the fuck would you suggest that?

Why the fuck are you thinking I would do that?

Why the fuck don't you get it that it is my photography, not yours?

Why the fuck do you care?

Why the fuck don't you shit or get off the pot?

Why the fuck don't you just do it?

Why the fuck are you still with him/her?

Why the fuck do you still work there?

Why the fuck did he/she think I would change, care, or want to hear that? (Chose any combination?

Why the fuck did you do that?

Why the fuck did I do that?

and as of earlier today -

Why the fuck did I say that?

WTF?
Photo by Karl

Bizarre Searches

I haven't checked my blog's performance on Google Analytics in a while. After seeing a few stats, I decided to see what are some search terms that lead readers to this blog. There were 203 unique searches leading to my blog. Many make sense. Here are some of the funny ones, the awkward ones, and even a scary one or two and my comments on them.

• Sensual Experiment Help ( I like that one... count me in for that experiment!)
• Model Mayhem See Through (See through what??? Ohh that "See through!")
• The avatar sexiness model mayhem (no comment)
• Sensual (pretty happy that one worked for someone to find my blog!)
• "how people look at art" ( I ask that question all the time)
• Private music of wicked words ( I want to hear that song)
• Anne Geddes (arghh.. my photographic nemesis!)
• Asian Massage (oh yeah... I forgot about that post)
• awesome short film paris car speeding (great movie!)
• becoming a masochist (that one hurt!)
• body painting men think 7 seconds (umm.. no clue on that one)
• crotch shot in hamlet 2 (so absurd it is funny)
• how to trigger sensual feelings from a memory (I want to write a post about that!)
• masturbate 2257 (2257 is not sexy to masturbate to)
• obsessed with sex (yes)
• pubic hair resurgence (DR.L WE ARE MAKING A DIFFERENCE!!)
• sensual gay black and white photos (I would take them and post them here!)
• sensual intercourse pictures (I would take them too!)
• sensual poems he fucks me (not too sensual)
• sensual scraps (very intriguing idea!)
• sensual zen in washington dc (it was a good trip)
• slow sensuous sex movies (interesting idea... maybe not porn.. would be great to see!)
  
• threesomesmmf (heh... none of that here)
• when a partner says, "I ache" (never thought to do a search on that)
• "8th grade" "d cups" (that one creeps me out and is pretty fucked up.)
  

Anyway... interesting searches.

I need to get this type of divorce too!

The Break Up
Uploaded by geertdesager. -

.

Me at Forty

My POV of 40

Photo by SB

My final project for the class I just finished was Me at Forty. Here is the little write-up I read before exhibiting my photos for critique.

Men at Forty by Donald Justice

Men at forty
Learn to close softly
The doors to rooms they will not be
Coming back to.

Turning forty can seem cliché to those who have not reached that number. This cliché for men usually involves sports cars, brave athletic heroics, sordid love affairs, and other attempts to recapture youth that has slipped into the middle.

I am trying to live beyond the cliché now that I am forty. I look back at the doors I've closed along the way. I look at where I am now and see new doors open from how I have lived so far. I look to the future and wonder what doors are yet to be discovered.

These photos represent some of the realities I feel at this moment. In ways, they may show me missing my youth or regretting some of my life choices. I prefer to think of them as interpretations of how I exist now. They are my POV or Point-of View of the now.


I RECOMMEND CLICKING ON THE PHOTOS FOR A HIGH-RES VIEW. MANY OF THEM HAVE SUBTLE CONTENT.

Living in Both Worlds
(The Lady in Red)

Photo by SB

Weeds Along My Road

Photo by SB

A Glance into My Views

Photo by SB

A Role Model, Richard Avedon (self-portrait)

Photo by SB

Between Two Americans (Portraits by Richard Avedon)

Photo by SB

The Not-So-Fastrak... in the Passenger's Seat

Photo by SB

Still has a Purpose

Photo by SB

NOTES: I took the photos of the Avedon photos at the SF MOMA. Anyone could take photos, sans flash, at the Avedon exhibition. I am not trying to copy his art, just capture a part of who I see myself as in this stage of my life.

On another note, I am amazed how they placed the photo of César Chávez along side Ronald Reagan. Talk about two very different Americans. Both made their name in California.

I posted an concept test earlier. Click here to view it.

eCensorship

" "
Photo by SB

I saw something that scared me about the personal ownership and control of printed materials. A few months ago I got the chance to read a few “pages” from a friend’s Kindle. For those who don’t know what a Kindle is, it is a computer screen tablet that you can download books, magazines, newspapers, and other print-based materials. There are some great things about this new technology, but I immediately discovered one problem with it and after reading the SLATE article at this link I found a complete deal breaker. I don’t want a “book” that decides what I can and can’t read.

The first flaw is the lack of color. I want color photos and illustrations. What good would a National Geographic be without the photos? I am sure though this technological hurdle will be over come.

If you read the article, you can see my concern. “They” can determine what I read and how long I can read it. Let’s say I buy an eBook from them. They may treat it more like a rental than ownership. If they want they can say I have rights to it for 10 years, 10 months or whatever they want and then delete it.

What is scarier though is if I bought a book today that became “banned” five years from now. They have a record of its purchase by which they could track to me. You may think this is paranoid, but after the warrant-less wiretapping and other “Patriot” Act bullshit, I have lost the illusion of my privacy.

They could also delete banned books, or books that somebody sued over or wants to make disappear. Once it is deleted it is gone.

When I go to a bookstore and buy a book, it is mine. Short of breaking into my house and destroying it physically, it will exist and be mine. If it becomes suspect or banned, it may still have a chance of surviving.

One last thing I don’t like about the Kindle… the experience. Imagine how the pages felt between your fingers the last time you opened a high-end photo book. Can you feel the quality glossy paper? What about a cheap paper back? Can you feel the rough, cheap paper? Can you smell it? Part of the pleasure of reading is the analog simplicity it offers. Would you rather have sex with a real person or an eSex version with a simulated partner on an electronic device? How about dinner?

I may be a Luddite, but I don’t think so. I have a lot of modern technology. I shoot digital and haven’t touched film for over a year. I am listening to my iPod while typing this on my beloved Apple MacBook Pro. Later tonight I am going to watch a recorded episode of Top Gear and then settle in to watch another episode of the amazing HBO show, Deadwood.

It is not the technology I fear, but the way it can be used to censor and destroy liberty, art, beauty, and most importantly – truth.

PHOTO NOTE: One of the things I worked with Candace on is word art. In future posts you will see more of these things we created. Some are words, others are images that I projected onto her. This will be my new icon photo for censorship. We did this word in one shot... I think she nailed the feeling of it.

The Sadist and the Masochist

Being Small
Photo by SB

The masochist was begging, "Please, PLEASE, hurt me. Beat me. Hit me. Degrade me. Use me. I need the pain to feel fulfillment! PLEEEASSSE. I only feel pleasure from your hurting me."

The sadist looked smugly and dismissively down on the masochist and simply replied, "No."

I never really understood the mind sets of these two sides of relationships until I heard that joke. I wonder in myself if I desire the pain and the desire to inflict it. Do we all have unconscious or even conscious needs and desires to feel and give pain? Many may feel they don't, but I wonder.

A few years ago I was very mad for months at a person close to me who had hurt me. I kept waiting and waiting for her to mention something about it and I had a response to it that would be devastating. I rehearsed it in my mind and crafted each word with the greatest delicacy and determination so it would not only hurt, but do both blunt and acute damage. One day, almost a year later, she asked why I no longer did a certain thing. At that moment I let go with my stored response. Her reaction was as pained as I had desired. The rush from the moment of it flowed through me filling me with righteous delight in the moment. She cried and went silent. I suddenly felt vindicated, but also an abuser. As time passed that moment, I've felt no pride in what I did. Our relationship was permanently hurt by it.

My family has a deep and dark history of sarcasm, judgment, and belittling. We are the masters of the passive-aggressive insult and attack. Any one statement is not a major issue, but the toll of absorbing (and giving) them is tearing the family apart. Last night I was chatting online with my 18 year old niece who was staying with my parents for a week. She was upset by the vitriolic dislike they have toward each other and the rest of the family. I hope she realizes now how much poison is in the family and finds a way to protect herself from becoming the werewolves we are after suffering the numerous bites of a lifetime.

Nowhere Man

Top of the World

Photo by SB

This is the song I awoke to this morning. How fucking depressing to wake up and have this song shape your mental state for the day.

Video

Video

He's a real nowhere man,
Sitting in his Nowhere Land,
Making all his nowhere plans
for nobody.

Doesn't have a point of view,
Knows not where he's going to,
Isn't he a bit like you and me?

Nowhere Man please listen,
You don't know what you're missing,
Nowhere Man,the world is at your command!

(lead guitar)

He's as blind as he can be,
Just sees what he wants to see,
Nowhere Man can you see me at all?

Nowhere Man, don't worry,
Take your time, don't hurry,
Leave it all till somebody else
lends you a hand!

Doesn't have a point of view,
Knows not where he's going to,
Isn't he a bit like you and me?

Nowhere Man please listen,
you don't know what your missing
Nowhere Man, the world is at your command!

He's a real Nowhere Man,
Sitting in his Nowhere Land,
Making all his nowhere plans
for nobody.
Making all his nowhere plans
for nobody.
Making all his nowhere plans
for nobody!

PHOTO NOTE: At the top of the Beartooth Pass on the Montana/Wyoming border. 10,900 feet above sea level.

Oh My God...

ZINC, Ark.—A child of members of the Knights Party, 2009

Photo by Bruce Gilden - Magnum Photos

...what people do in Your name.

I saw this photo essay. The first photo made me wonder where it was taken in the 1950s. It was taken in 2009.

This scares me more than 2257. I think 2257 and PROP8 are parts of the mentality shared by these "people" - intolerance, hate, and violence. There are shades of those characteristics all about in our culture and are growing like a slow malignancy, easy to ignore until you notice the lump.

Please view this Magnum Photo Essay - The Resurgence of Hate Groups in the United States.

Thanks Stephen Haynes...

http://www.modelmayhem.com/sidebphotography
Me and the book
Note - I am trying to redact (cover up) her tush with my hand, hoping this photo does not fall under 2257)

Look what came in the mail last night. I finally got Stephen's book and started reading it on the bus to and from work. I will get my early review of it out of the way first. I have read about half of it and here are some of my thoughts.

I work in a highly-regulated industry (big pharma) and have read my fair share of the Code of Federal Regulations (CFRs). They are dry, boring, dense, confusing, and too often vague. Stephen's book helps make the CFRs concerning nude photography (2257 and other numbers) understandable. His interpretations are down-to-earth and well thought out. As a small time photographer of nudes (very different than a nude photographer... I doubt too many models would like to see a nude guy behind the camera) I need this book and highly recommend it.

Here are my first impressions of 2257. Stephen, as well as a friend of mine who is in the UC Berkeley school of law summarized one aspect of 2257 well. It is a "chiller." It will chill the enthusiasm of the photographer since the burden of documentation is so high. Most will abandon the daunting project of CYA in terms of this law.

So, how compliant am I with 2257? After reading a bit of the book, I would say I am ok, but not bullet proof. The problem is that saying I am sort of protected is like saying I am sort of pregnant. I definitely need to get some things better organized and controlled. I am comforted to know that I have the basic model information documented and saved.



My big question to everyone is, "how do you fight it?" I can tell my progressive friends about it and they will agree that it is censorship and join the cause. The hard part is to make a logical, factual, and convincing argument to the fence-sitters and even the proponents of this piece of crap regulation.

How do you answer the statement and question, "This protects kids from being exploited into making child pornography. Are you for lessening their protection?" How do you logically (and succinctly since the fundamentalist mentals who support this love sound bytes) rebut this and go on the offensive?

Seriously, does anyone have suggestions for talking points when presenting this topic? I can always talk about my experiences, but I want to go beyond that and have a strong argument against this censorship law.

Boycott My State, Or At Least Parts of It

County Vote Tallies - LA Times

As you probably heard, the California Supreme Court upheld the constitutional amendment to ban same-sex marriages (PROP 8) that passed in the 2008 general election. They also ruled the ~18,000 gay marriages performed last year are valid.

I heard a lot of commentary on the decision. In ways the court was right because Prop 8 was passed and did not conflict, in its process, with the state's constitution. While the actual action of it is discriminatory, the way it was proposed and voted on was legal.

In the past few months, I wrote about my personal boycott of Utah because of the Mormon Church's heavy-handed influence on the PROP 8 issue. While I am still boycotting Utah, especially the Salt Lake City area, I must look inward to my own state.

I am going to boycott spending money (as much as possible) in any county that had a majority of "yes" votes for PROP 8. Here is how I plan to boycott it.

I will not do the following in these counties:

• Shop in stores or buy online from
  
• Buy gas
• Eat in restaurants
• Stay in hotels ( I will camp in them because the money goes to the state or the federal forest service. I will bring my own food.)

Since most of the food I eat comes from the central valley, I will have to buy eats from the "Yes" counties. My goal though will be to go to farmer's markets and buy from the farmers that produce in the "No" counties as much as possible.

In addition to my actions, I am going to write the appropriate chambers of commerce to tell them of my decisions. I doubt my few thousand dollars per year will mean much to them, but at least I can make sure my money is going into communities that did not support hate.

Here is a link from The LA Times that shows vote tallies for each county. If you support gay marriage and social liberty, please join me in my boycott. I would support your avoiding the "Yes" counties, or even avoiding the state. If you do participate in the boycott, please write to the appropriate chambers of commerce to tell them why.

I am thankful most of the great wine producing counties voted "NO."

Cranky Mood

Strada at 7:48am on May 24, 2009.
Photo by SB

I hate it when little things make me cranky. I got up at 6am to take my wife to a liberal church in Berkeley. After dropping her off I drove a few blocks further to a little coffee shop that has free wifi, got a coffee and a bran muffin. Once I got situated I checked on others' blogs, read a movie review, edited photos, read, and enjoyed my Sunday morning ritual. The coffee shop is quiet at 7:30. They play classical music and the place is serene. I sit at the back, facing out toward the windows, looking at the backs of all the other quiet, private patrons. In a few hours, this place will fill with college students.

As I sit down, there is a loud southern gentlemen sitting across the aisle from me, talking on his cell phone to his mom about the UC Berkeley graduation of his partner's daughter. The graduate got her PhD in chemistry and her boyfriend is concerned that she drinks too much. She was just having a good time. The southern gents feel his mother should take better care of herself and get help taking care of her husband (not his dad). I also learned about what he ate for dinner last night with the graduate, her friends and family. Who knew could get scallops at a Thai restaurant? I really do not need to know all this stuff.

Why do people think they need to talk on a phone in a restaurant? Actually that is not what bothers me. What I hate is when people unconciously, or conciously, talk louder on their cell phones in a public place. This guy went on talking for 30 minutes.

My frustration continued to grow until he said, "Mother, I am sitting in a classical recital in this beautiful coffee shop. They play the most beautiful music." I looked over at him and almost said "I wish I could hear the music." I bit back my comment, got out my sound deadening headphones and am listening to Pandora.

What bothers me is this guy is educated (he has PhD in Zoology, the last major of the alphabet, as I learned from his conversation). He seems loving and nice. He said many gracious and kind things to his mom and about the people in Berkeley. Why doesn't he realize the noise he is making is rude? I would not be shocked if he would be the first to complain about other "loud" people in a public setting.

I've mentioned before that I am private person. I enjoy solitude, peace, and quiet. In a prior post I also listed many "Manly things" I love, most of which are noisy. I enjoy concerts, airshows, noisy engines (revved up in places where it is appropriate) and other noisy venues. I expect the noise at those times. I don't mind this coffee shop when it is filled with a gaggle of UC students talking about... all the same stuff I talked with my friends during my undergrad years.

If I ever open another art gallery, I am going to post three rules at the entrance.
1. Have an open mind for the art.
2. Don't touch the art, unless it is supposed to be touched.
3. Silence your cell phones and if you must talk on it, leave the gallery to complete the call.

On the great, but short lived, sci-fi show Firefly, the priest on the ship warns the captain about a special hell reserved for,"... child molestors and people who talk at the theaters." I can believe and support that type of hell.

Shepard Book was my favorite character of that show. Here is a little compilation of his scenes, including the "special hell" one.

What The Fuck, part 2???

Unbearable Lightness by RyanL

Over the past few days my friend, Dr. L., informed us of some scary legislation in Massachusetts. I am not going to go into details beyond the fact that part of it wants to make photographing nude models over 60 illegal. Please read all of her posts, especially the one where she gets a response from the crazy legislator's aide.

First
Second
Third


I am pissed at this lawmaker's complete failure in her job. She lets local district attorneys write legislation for her and then does not practice enough due diligence to proof read it. What a lazy incompetent piece of ... law maker. She is letting the branch of the government that enforces the law write the law for her. I understand seeking consultation while crafting these things, but to hand over the job completely to someone who has a discriminatory agenda sickens me. That is lazy and may be classified as "mentally incompetent." Isn't there a law forbidding mentally incompetent people from holding public office???? Obviously not.

I hope Dr. L does not mind me doing this (please contact me if you do and I will remove the photos). I am going to post some of the many beautiful images of her in this post. If publishing beautiful art of a nude model over 60 is criminal, come get me.

"Blue Eyes" by Cherrystone

Red by Joe Crachiola

Our American Obsession(s) (Part 1)

Marlene Deitrich
Photographer - Unknown

"Sex. In America an obsession. In other parts of the world a fact."

-- Marlene Dietrich

Why is this so true about America? Why are we so obsessed with sex? In my opinion we have two obsessions with sex in America.

1. The sex we want, but can't have. (Part 1)
   
2. The sex we don't want others to have. (Part 2, tomorrow)
   

The sex we want, but can't have. We are obsessed with things we can not have. We want the bigger car. We want the big house (I don't call them homes). We want the fancy new IPhone. We really want wild sex. We want a threesome with the two hot twins. We want to do it outside and almost get caught. We want to try a bisexual experience. We want to hookup with that hotty in accounting. We want anal sex. We want to be bound and gagged and forced to lick somenone's shoes clean. We want the sex you see on Desperate Housewives, Greys Anatomy, Entourage, The Sopranos, and MTV. We want the sex we imagine our friends and neighbors have.

It is not only that we want it. We feel we need it. We feel we are not living the American dream with out it. We feel lesser for it. We know it may be bad for us. We know it could destroy our relationships. We know we could catch a disease and spread it to people we love. We don't care. We need it.

Is this obsession stemming from the fear we are missing out on something so grand? Is it stemming from our need to keep up with our friends and neighbors? Is it like the obsession for the big Cadillac Escalade? Is it part of our psyche that we must consume things to feel complete? Maybe.

Let's think about that for a moment. Do we need to consume sex like we consume material goods like cars and Ben and Jerry's ice cream. Are we consuming it to fill an empty emotional need related to materialism? Ouch, that hurts.

We have access to satisfy any type of sexual desire we could want. Some are legal and acceptable, some are so horrendously illegal and deviant. Most, probably, are in between... in that grey area. If we are willing to spend money, we can get it.

Is our obsession for sex a drug? The chemical surges that flow through our body when we are aroused and desiring or acting on our desires is a major high. Are we addicted to that? I wonder how the levels of sex addictions in the USA compare to other countries.

Is our obsession for sex fueled by impossible expectations propogated by a popular media and culture? Many people chastise popular media for setting up unrealistic physical expectations for how women and men should look. Brad and Angelina are idolized (and I will admit, both are very easy on the eyes) for their beauty. We feel pressured to look like them. Is this the same for sex?

We see so much sex in popular media. It is in the music, videos, books, magazines, tv, movies, and of course, the internet. Are we feeling inadequate because we aren't having the crazy sex that is shown?

Ok. So I think we are obsessed about the sex we aren't having. How are other countries dealing with it? As Marlene said, sex "... in other parts of the world [is]a fact." I feel part of this is due to the nosiness our culture has about others' sex lives. We need to know what everyone else is doing. We need to watch Paris Hilton's home-sex movie. We need to know about Brad and Angelina's sex life. There is no privacy because we need to know what you are doing in your bedroom.

I lived in Spain for a few months. I loved it there. It is a sexy culture. The people I saw in my day-to-day life were sexy. They knew how to dress. They knew what looked good on them. They knew how to flirt. While all of that was great, the sexiest part was they didn't care what you did behind your closed doors. That libertarian ideal was so refreshing. Of course they would not accept child abuse and other horrible sexual situations, but if it was between two consenting adults, it was fine. It was not a big scandal if a gay couple moved in next door. They were just neigbors. One of my favorite Spanish memories was on a warm October day walking on a nude beach. It was a public beach that had families, couples, singles, everybody walking around in some level of being dressed... or not. Toward the end of the walk I saw a sight that simbolizes this attitude of openess. There was a naked guy in his sixties talking with a fully-clothed guy (trousers, collared shirt, shoes, socks) about the same age who was walking his dog. They didn't feel awkward standing by eachother. It looked like two neigbors chatting about painting the fence. Can you imagine this going on in America?

So, we obsess about that which we can not have. Because of this we crave it all the more. Speaking for myself, I've done stuff in my life. I've taken and created opportunities to scratch unique itches (obsessions) because I felt I needed to do it. I am as obsessed with sex as the next American. What I have written above is not a judgement on others. I am part of it too. While I may not be as materialistically obsessed as my neighbors with their two huge fucking SUVs, I do tend to swing toward the erotic.

Part of my obsessions are to scratch those sexual itches. Others were to have a secret. Isn't it grand to have done something that few others have and to wear that knowing smile? I am not proud of everything I have done. I have emotionally hurt myself and others. While that was not my intent and is a deep regret, it is the truth.

I've been fortunate to have shared sexual experiences that were not a part of my need to build a collection of sexual conquests. Those are the ones that I truly smile about. They may have been a long term relationship or just a one-night experience, but they are treasured.

So, enough about me. Let me get back to discussing our first American obsession with sex, obsessing for thing we do not have. Have you ever obsessed about something so much that you desire it all costs? You see others getting it and feel hurt that you can't have it. Over time your atitude unconciously shifts to despising that which you want. Some part of your brain below concious thought has changed to the idea, "If I can't have it, neither can you." I wonder if this is one reason why we obsess about the sex we don't want others to have.

First they came...

Title and Artist Unknown
Image Source

First they came...
Martin Niemoller

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.

Then they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.

Then they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,
I did not speak out;
I was not a Jew.

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out for me.

First, I am not saying the relatively small hardships we are facing with 2257 are the same as the the victims of the Holocaust. I am saying that apathy in times like this leads to an ever-increasing encroachment on our freedoms.

A few years ago, there was talk that insurance companies wanted to put GPS units on cars to record the mileage of their clientele. I was talking about this with a coworker, Denise. I was upset with this proposed idea and she didn't see a problem with it.

I argued my point that if they can track your mileage, they can also track your speed. They can track where you have been and when you were there.

Dee Dee responded, "So, I don't have anything to hide and I don't speed."

I replied, "It is not that I have anything to hide. It is nobody's business where I go and when I get there. "

She then asked,"If you have nothing to hide, then why are you worried what they will find out? That is a bit paranoid."

I was shocked. I had no reply. I knew she couldn't comprehend how offended and oppressed I felt by this incursion into my privacy.

This., for me, relates to 2257. Let's say I only photograph implied nudes. I would feel pretty safe in regards to the 2257 regulations. I would keep my records, but not be worried. One day I take a photo of a model that is implied to be naked and in bed. Her hands are tucked out of site under her as she lays face down. Her face is on the pillow. Her expression is of bliss with closed eyes. Could she be enjoying her sleep, or is she enjoying herself in other ways? Now I have to worry, which this is? What do I have to document now? Who determines what her intent is? Thankfully, I doubt this is an issue, so I would not worry about 2257. Years go by and nobody says "boo" about the photo, but someday, somebody might.

You may feel 2257 does not affect you. You may be right... for now. Once a right is infringed upon, it is damned hard to ever get it back. At some point, the censors may find what you have to say, create, or share as out of bounds and then it will affect you.

As Stephen says, "... Which is why 2257 is so insidious, as I've said before: it's not saying we can't speak; it's just regulating the construction of our soapboxes." I highly recommend you read his post. I also highly recommend you look at his book about the regulations. I will.

Goodbye Rosa Kleb! and Thoughts on "Breeders"

Yesterday, I learned more about the history of feminism than I had in the prior 40 years. Dr. L's post about it was amazing, informative and thought provoking.

Here are a couple of my thoughts about her post and the current societal realities we face.

First. I commend her father for believing in her freedom to be what she has become. It is beautiful. My parents are not perfect. They believed too much that following your dreams would lead you to poverty. I have written about their dream-killing tendencies before so I will spare you of them now. On the other hand, they were openly healthy about sex.

When I was 13, my family got HBO. My mom told me the rules of what I could watch on it since it had/has very adult content. She said, "I don't worry if you see shows with nudity or sex. Please don't watch the violent movies though. Sex is part of life and violence shouldn't be." How little did I appreciate how big a part of life sex would become. I am glad the violence is not.

I remember when I found my parents hidden copy of "The Joy of Sex." Holy shit, that was an eye opener. I was 13 and had just started feeling the deep arousal from sex. You could say that book was my first "porn" and I am glad it was. The illustrations and text were so sexual, sensual, and healthy (for the time, they may seem dated now) and were probably better in my psycho-sexual development than a copy of Hustler. I would spend hours looking at the simple pencil drawings and wonder how it would feel to live them.

My parents never hid or hide their sexuality. I am not saying they advertised it or crossed any illicit boundaries with us. They were openly affectionate with each other. They had a talk with both my brother and me that they needed alone time. If the door was shut, do not barge in. Please knock. Of course, being an impulsive 10 year old, I did barge in once without thinking and never saw so much human flesh trying to get under the blankets so fast. The importance of this was that it taught me that sex is something to be enjoyed at all ages as we grow older and it is something for both partners to desire and enjoy.

As I grew older, I've found so many interesting beliefs and contradictions in how people view sexuality and sex. One of these areas that both fascinates and annoys me is the group I refer to as the "breeders."

Breeders really piss me off. Breeders are people who assume that all life's purpose is to create offspring. My wife and I have been together almost 18 years. If you have read my blog, you know our marriage is far from perfect. One issue though that we have no problems with is our desire not to have children. We are not anti-child. We love our friend's kids. Our nieces are very special to us and I am proud to have been a part of their life.

Here is a sample conversation with a breeder (paraphrased from many such conversations I've endured. I have been asked each question though).

"So, how long have you and Ann been married?" she asks while pouring coffee.

"About 18 years." I reply getting the creamer.

"How many kids?" she asks. This question is usually the first red flag that you are talking to a breeder. Non-breeders usually ask "Any kids?" I don't mind being asked if I have kids. They are a big part of others' lives. Just don't assume I have them.

"None." I reply cautiously. She gives me shocked look.

At this point the questions can come in any order.
"Have you tried?"
"Is your wife not fertile? "
"Are you infertile?"
"Why haven't you had kids?"
"Are you doing it wrong?"
"Why don't you want to have kids?"
"Why are you married if you're not going to have kids?"
"Are you or is she gay?"
"Any miscarriages?"
"Aren't you afraid of dieing alone?"
"What about your family? Aren't they pushing you to have kids? You don't want to disappoint them."
"What about your family name? Don't you care about your legacy?"
"Do you hate kids?"
"Did you have an abortion?"
"Is this a decision you made for your wife? All women want to have babies." Yes, I've been asked that.

At this point I am usually very pissed off and they then lecture me about how selfish I am. I have a good job, a home and a wife. I should be having kids. It is God's plan for us to have kids. They also then tell me that we are not young and the clock is ticking.

I usually try to answer them civilly. If they get the clue that we don't want children and leave it alone, I stay civil. If they continue to poke I get as extreme as they do by using sarcasm. My responses may or may not reflect my true beliefs, but if they are going to push me, I will push back. Some of my bitchy answers are:

"Don't you want children?" My answer. "Nope, don't believe in them. I don't need them to validate my existence."

"What will you do if your wife becomes pregnant?" My answer. "Kill the son of a bitch who did it." or "I am sure I will love it eventually."

I also will say something like, "I prefer my dogs since, I can leave them in the backyard all day alone and no one will call child protective services on me." Breeders hate that answer.

If they continue harassing, I usually end it with, "Look, I view sex as recreational, not procreational."

There are many reasons I don't want children. Some are selfish, some are petty, some have pretty good merit as well. I wont go into them in this post, but they are my beliefs.

So, how does this tie into what Dr. L mentioned? My point is that some people still view humans as breeders and that is our only purpose and is the only purpose of sex. I know the purpose of sex from a biological point is to reproduce. From a survival of the species aspect, I appreciate other people having kids.

As humans, we have free will. We have the ability to reason and understand abstract constructions. We are not purely instinctual beings. We can find meaning in art. We can feel empathy, pain and love for strangers. We can find justification for any deed, good or bad. We can also fuck with out making kids.

Bad Dreams

Since I was about 22, I've had sleeping problems. I sleep talk, sleep walk, have night terrors, among some of the near nightly events. Almost every night is a dark tour of persecution, fear, and anxiety. Let me tell you about a few of the incidents.

One night I knew we were in our bedroom. There was somebody else in the room that was going to kill us with a knife. I said out loud to my wife, "He is in here and we need to get out, but if we move he will see us." Needless to say that freaked her out.

Last night I dreamed that my wife had read my creative journal (very private to me) and had written comments of disgust in them. I slept walked down a flight of stairs to find my journal to and read her comments.

A week ago, after reading a bit about 2257 and censorship, a number of photographers in my dream were accusing me of stealing their photos and were tagging all my photos on the internet as fraud. I went down to my computer to see how bad it was. Of course nothing like that had happened.

Many of the dreams are horrific and gory. Animals or people being dismembered with noise and smell and all of it and some sinister being saying I am the reason for the suffering, but not telling me why I am the reason. At first I am anxious in the dream, but I've had these so many times that I realize I am dreaming and wake up. The bad part is that when I fall back to sleep, the dream continues on like a bad soap opera through the night.

One night, I thought some thugs were breaking into my car in front of my house, so I went outside barefoot, wearing my pajamas, carrying a can of pepper spray. It was all a dream. I am glad I did not try to get my gun. Since then, I've locked away my firearms.

My wife will usually ask me in a a loud voice, "Are you dreaming?" That usually stops me in my tracks as I wander out of the room. I will then spend a bit of time either explaining to her what is happening and she becomes part of the dream, or I stay quiet and try to figure out what is real and is not. She knows that if I am heading to the bathroom, that is just a natural event. If I am heading for the bedroom door, I need to be stopped.

When I sleep walk, I know where I am, it is always in my home. I never sleep walk when I am sleeping in a strange place (hotels, camping, etc.). I think that is because my eyes are open and the image of the strange setting is different than the familiarity of my room, so it wakes me up.

All of the dreams where I get out of bed our talk or take any real physical action have the common theme of me being persecuted. I am not getting whipped or hurt, but I am getting stalked or something I care about is being damaged, hurt, or killed. The anxiety this causes makes me want to check to make sure everything is OK.

Ever since I can remember, my dreams have always been vivid, and feel so real. As a kid I would have recurring dreams in the exact same place and situation. They were not all bad or good dreams, just every few years, the same dreams would pop up again.

My biggest fear is that I am going to hurt someone. I also fear that I am going to fall or get hurt. I have good dreams most night as well.

Most mornings I wake up refreshed so I am not feeling exhausted. I love the good dreams. They are an unexpected gift that I relish the next day, especially the sexy ones.

I don't snore much according to my wife, so I don't think it is sleep apnea. I try to watch what I eat so I don't have acid reflux. I've tried sleeping on my side, back, stomach, with extra pillows, with no pillows. None of that helps. I have the problem when I am thin or thick.

Unless I sleep in different beds every night, I don't know what to do. I am getting tired of this, no pun intended. Is this something that can be treated or is it something I need to live with?


NOTE - Photos found without citations. I usually don't like to use uncredited photos, but these images were important for today's post.

Getting Torn in Two

DESPAIR.COM

I read Z's blog yesterday. He wrote about feeling like a fraud. That about sums up my feelings. I feel like I am living a "half-assed" life. I am in a good job that does important things, but I have almost no passion for it. I am middle-aged and feel like I have not achieved anything of importance.

I've been fortunate to have had an easy life. I make good money, have a reasonable mortgage, and could get by for a little while if I didn't work. I've gone to college a few times and have the degrees on the wall to show I attended.

I've also have a really screwed up marriage (both of our fault) that some stupid part of my brain or other body part wants to destroy by doing stupid things. I get enthused about something, then rarely finish it. You should see how many project piles exist in my home and in my life.

I have a lot of friends turning 40 this year. One is getting into marathons. One drank her birthday weekend away. Another refuses to talk about it. I know 40 is not old. I look at what Z and his wife are doing as well as Unbearable Lightness and am amazed at how they are younger in soul and spirit than me. While 40 is not "old", it is no longer "young" either.

Yeah, I know. Another balding guy (I prefer the term "too tall for my hair")with a mid-life crisis. You probably wonder:

• Will he get the Corvette to be young and fast? Yeah, I want one, but I know the exhiliration of speed would fade and I would want a faster, more expensive toy to fill a void.
• Will he have an affair? I've cheated, but affairs are too personal. I am fighting not to get in one now. My spouse had a deep love affair that I am not sure is over. My marriage and sex life is screwed up enough trying to figure out if Iam too old for some of the things I desire and should accept it.
• Will he get into drugs/alcohol? Not my style. I have tried and like some of those things, but one glass of wine will do 99% of the time.
• Will he find faith? Tried that when I was 31. I've failed that one pretty bad and don't feel I deserve (or maybe even desire) grace, forgiveness, compassion, and the strength of a higher being.
• Will he get into trying to recapture his youthful athletic prowess? WTF? I didn't have much of that back then. I was in good shape and was in sports, but I was not the star of any sport.
• Will he try to express his mid-life anguish through art, as cliche it could be? Maybe that is what I am doing with my photography and my blog. Are they last desperate calls for trying to hip, cool, and important?
• Will he stop whining and STFU (shut the fuck up)? I rarely, if ever discuss this with people through talking. If you talk to me in person, I will keep this stuff bottle up in me until I die. If you are reading this and you want me to STFU... hit the "Next Blog" at the top of the screen.

Ok, I've spent this whole post bitching. I am rarely a complainer, but sometimes it just is crushing. My existential angst of my meaningless existence. I feel this crushing despair, then I see people suffering from war, poverty, repression, and other horrible situations and I look around and see I have it alright. That makes me feel even more worthless. I don't have a reason to bitch except that it gives me a negative outlet.