Somewhere, a disco ball from my past.

It's only make believe, it's something that I do, I love you.

Edit: (also, since it seems fitting, happy new year)

In liue of ACTUAL meanderings....

I've been meandering the internet.
Here are two articles talking about how people talking about "Political" things are in fact talking about "Nothing at all."

Sarah Palin, the WWE Star
Glenn Beck Loving Grandma, also loves gay grandchildren and republicans.

And I concur.


And also. If you just don't want read, but think it's an equivalent use of your next 8 minutes to watch video instead. Here is (from the first article) some video of alot of people, saying alot of "Nothing at all"

This is my love.

This is what my bicycle looks like, when it's seat and seat post are stolen, and I lean it up against a palm tree in the median of Guerrero, while on the way to get a new seat and post and put it on my credit card because I straight up can't afford that shit...

Roof IV

Gay Frat Film and A/V Department.

Oh Days gone by. Watching some found 16mm in the patio. Aided by lights of varying color temperatures and hues.
*click for larger

A Year Ago.

A year ago this weekish I came to San Francisco. Scratch that, a year ago today-ish I came back from San Francisco.

A month ago I moved to San Francisco.

It took a little less than a year.

Simply reflecting. Time to leave the house.
Post office, Art store, Four Barrel Coffee, New Friends Via Pittsburgh, Bruce LaBruce. Hope everyone else has had a year as forward moving.

Ladies of the Canyon/Winter/Night

Looking Pasty Ladies.

Penn and Main Skyline

From the Penn and Main fortress, row house kingdom.
I'd click for a little larger version were I you, being myself.

Here.

This is from my first visit.

Today I'm wearing my "City of ChampYinz" shirt.

Cristian and I are giggling about Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion.

Two Days.

I have two days left.
This is from Chicago. From the recent color batch.
I promise the next picture will not have Claire in it. But she really is a fascinating subject.

Today at work IV

Also, to top it off, Claire and I ate sandwiches and chips in a launch while a woman was CLEARLY riding on some dude in their boat...maybe....50-70 yards away? I thought you had to come ashore for that kind of service!

C-41.

So. On Saturday I spent some fun time in the darkrooms with my friends Sally and Laura. Sally provided us with the instruction we needed to use the Jobo color processing machine. I've printed m own color many a time, but have never had the means to process film until recently. Someone donated said Jobo to pghfilmmakers, and I bought a C-41 kit of Tetanol. It was fun an typically filmmakers. The processor has two jobs. One is to keep the water bath, and chemicals at a precise temperature, for this 100 degrees. Also, it's supposed to turn the tank for you. So all you should have to do is dump in the chemistry, time, and dump it out. However, despite it working when we got in the room, when we tried ot actually use the machine with film in it, the motor stopped working. Not really too big of a deal, just a little more work than we had thought was coming. So we had to turn the tank by hand on the machine...but it still made the chemisty easy to do, and the temp was fine.

Sally and Laura both peaced once their few rolls were done. All in all I processed 11 rolls of my own. All 120mm. Some from the holga, and some from the mamiya. Only one roll came out worthless. It actually processed well, but had about two actual usable images. They were however subject wise...poor, and uninteresting, and of a time I'd rather not have around. So I had no problem sacrificing them to the photo gods. I'm going to spend some evenings this week at filmmakers scanning them. I've got about two weeks left, so I'd better use that account up as much as possible. And it'll give me something to work on on da train.

No!....NO!!!!!

This is an oldie, but I put them together today for something else. Surprise surprise...Lil made a triptych.

John Fucking Cartwright

Last night saw the dj debut of myself. I was a little unaware of the genre sort of thing that was going on, but am the bomb, and had exactly what was needed. I fucked up a little here and there, but would say it was a good night. Thanks to all who came and partied. I think it was definately the most people I've seen at a dance/music night a the brillobox in quite awhile. Off to a slow start, but got moving. More pics will be on flickr soon.
Extra thanks to Edgar for publishing my name as John Fucking Cartwright, effectively disregarding my indecisiveness over the choice between that and sticking it out with "lil" or "little john." John Fucking Cartwright.

Just a Reminder.

Don't ever forget:

Participation mystique. A term derived from anthropology and the study of primitive psychology, denoting a mystical connection, or identity, between subject and object. (See also archaic, identification and projection.)

[Participation mystique] consists in the fact that the subject cannot clearly distinguish himself from the object but is bound to it by a direct relationship which amounts to partial identity. . . . Among civilized peoples it usually occurs between persons, seldom between a person and a thing. In the first case it is a transference relationship . . . . In the second case there is a similar influence on the part of the thing, or else an identification with a thing or the idea of a thing.[Definitions," CW 6, par. 781.]

[Identity] is a characteristic of the primitive mentality and the real foundation of participation mystique, which is nothing but a relic of the original non-differentiation of subject and object, and hence of the primordial unconscious state. It is also a characteristic of the mental state of early infancy, and, finally, of the unconscious of the civilized adult.[Ibid., par. 741.]

Sometimes Life is E-see.

This photo is almost a summation of how easy Pittsburgh can be.
Sumer rolls in. You embrace the warm kisses of the sun. Lounge, swim, boat, bike, fun, frolic. Winter's angry cold sting soothes and dry tan skin emerges. It's so easy to lose yourself in it and forget the things you need to do. Daily, Weekly, or in life in general. It's nice sometimes to have something jump around in our face and be the reminder of future times and spaces. But that all said, it's still nice to go out on the river every once in awhile and loose yourself. Surrendering to this beautiful place and all of it's soft warm fingers beckoning you to stay through another winter to see another spring. Just don't forget where it all places in the world.

Next Week:

UPDATE: Our flyer/poster for the front window.

So I'll be a bit out of touch for the next week or so. I'm finishing work up for an upcoming show. I have some printing, sanding, painting, and matting to do. I've got my work cut out for me, but as always, I work best under pressure. If I didn't I would have it all done already!

The show is a small group exhibit in the downstairs gallery of the Harris Theater, 809 Liberty Ave.
Themed around the idea of space. I have posted some of the images here thus far. But please come and check out my other images as well as those of some friends.

Click below for schedule, etc.

They make me feel like....WOOO!!!!

This morning I am so thankful.
I would like to thank the past. Thank the past for that awful nightmare. Thank the past for waking me up before my alarm.
I would like to thank the future. The future for a voice message that waited for me when I woke up. A voicemail that got me moving enough to dance around my house excited for the day and the movement forward.

I've seen the future baby, it is murder.

Today at work III

Roof III

Gays.

Apparently the gay rights movement only started forty years ago, according to the leaders of the United States of America. The Mattachine Society? The Society for Human Rights? Berlin pre WWII? Anything? ...Apparently not. Stonewall is the epoch, apparently.
Jeeezzzz these people.

President Obama

Secretary of State Hillary Clinton

Idea

I worked all day yesterday.
After work, and a lovely scoot home I was abducted by friends with a car. I was taken to the strange nether-region of "Shadyside." If you're unfamiliar, this is yup yup wear your money on your country club approved outfit sleeve central. It is also therefor brings into the mix the usual (rather unusual) crowd particular to Pittsburgh that is what we might call an aspiring "Yupzer." I'm pretty pleased that I've finally come to a word for this. Basically the Yupzer is a Yinzer who aspires to a level of upper middle class consumer. A banana republic by work week, a gap on the casual weekend. No, I've never played golf, but I'm sure I'd love it. These are your typical over spending, American dream chasing young professionals. The difference between this group here in Pittsburgh and anywhere else though, is that these people are yinzers. They wouldn't know what a cocktail party was if it shit on their chest. But they've still got the air of self importance, sophistication, and arrogance all about them, if you can smell it beyond their cheap perfumes and cologne.

After spending some time in one bar, with famously boozy Greyhounds (though I think our loving bartenders at our local watering hole pour them stronger and for $3.50 cheaper, you've gotta shell out the money to prove you have it I guess) it was decided the only way to recover the night from it's dullness was to go venture to *gasp* a gay bar. We packed our bags, and made the quick little journey to one of the gay bars to go to in the area. Upon first arrival and after a rude doorman the joint looked empty. After closer inspection it appeared that the party was really in the back. On the giant outdoor patio. "There are so many terrible faggots here.." I remarked. "No," Five chimes in, weak "Sangria" in hand, "There are also so many terrible fag-hags!"

It turned out to be an alright evening. I listened to Five and our friend Alex discuss idiosyncricities of radical queer movements or their lack of actual "movement." The challenges given to homos such as Five or myself, in carving out our own place within radical queer idea's or politics given the fact that "Gay Men" have already, within a grouping and "type"ing, been assimilated into a generally accepting culture. It would seem from the discussion, that it is easy to see and understand how transgendered peoples and lesbians still can be easier and seemingly more obvious areas of radical movement and organizing because they have not been assimilated to a similar (commercially viable) extent. However, this whole notion/idea/truth completely leaves out the possibility of me. Of Five. Of Eric. Of a whole slew or men I know who, even if they aren't looking to voice or act on or even entertain radical political ideas or radical sexual/ity ideas (which really? It's not that radical, it's called living), do not belong to the assimilated black and white, top or bottom, American Eagle or Abercrombie, Martini or Cosmo, flip-flops or flip-flops, red plaid button up or pink plaid button up cultural environs that are so comfortable, privledged, and blind. And therein lies the problem, our complaints, our obstacle. An unaccepted minority within it's own (american, city, etc) societally accepted minority. It is hard to get people to listen to the "But this is why it's hard for me!" when they are cutting you off with a "No, this is why it is easy for you, so shut up and listen to why it's actually way more hard for me, you self loathing needy gay man."


Now, who has a thirty foot or so long gallery space for the mural print/install I am going to make about this? I guess 15 would be do-able.

Roof II

Time Past

I scanned this line of Negs in late Dec.
I shot them possibly in the spring of that year, 2008, though I can't be sure. These seem to be a result of the Mapplethorpe class and a moment of temporary insanity. It's nice to know that when the logical portions of my brain aren't working, that the mechanical and photographic portion goes into overdrive. These are straight from the scanner, unedited in any way. The prints I've made of them look just as incredible to me. Sometimes I surprise myself.

Roof I

Modern Sounds

Before I get to some posts of recent image wanderings:

Recently on one of the wonderful days in which Pittsburgh skips spring and rolls straight into summer...I was drinking. I had after work drinks with some friends, and then continued with them to a bar to "Watch" the Penguins game. I am not generally into sports though I do enjoy drinking. I also enjoy the spectacle that is a bar during any sort of sports thing. The bar we went to was a place called Howlers which is a space with a stage and shows in the second half of the bar, and the first side is a bar in which can be found the denizens of Liberty Ave., Bloomfield blue collar liver killers, some punks, some rockers, and the occasional skin. Tonight it was more of the blue collar land. It was early, and most were there for some conversation and the game. We sat there watching, people watching, talking. I made some remarks on the lone CRT T.V. in a space hollowed out behind the liquor. Ever since I've started going to Howlers, that T.V. has not been in use. More in favor are the numerous flat screens that sit around the bar, showing some sort of digital cable programming. I of course had to remark on the fact that despite it's almost outdated-ness (for a bar at least), I was surprised they didn't have it on. Merely for the purpose of having another place to look at, besides, it was directly in front of me and I was cranky cause I kept having to turn my neck to look at the hot hockey players with beards on T.V.

So the games on, and occasionally these digital cable snags occur. A few times the signal does that digital chop up we are all so aware of. About 25 minutes or so in however, the screen freezes. Completely. For roughly 3-4 minutes. Jeers from the crowd, accusing comcast of conspiracy, or of comcast of being fans of the other team. "I'm calling them, we pay for this! How could they" Right? How could they have the nerve to fuck up their technology for all these middle aged whities watching flat screens? Rude. Eventually the image returns, all is well, $1.50 knights heads resume flowing. ...Until tragedy strikes again. This time it's even worse. The image freezes again, causing similar outbursts and accusations as the first time. Except this time it doesn't come back. Despite the bartenders thoughts that changing the channels were the solution last time... it doesn't work. The image is fucked. Some people wander in from their houses or other bars and it was quickly put together that the whole city, or at least Bloomfield, was having the same problem. Someone has the incredible idea though. Put the radio on! Well I was actually pretty surprised that there was a radio in the place attached to the sound system. I suppose chances are it was just part of the reciever, but I digress.

....This was the moment I was excited. Oh, the radio! AM radio! For all my bitching in the evening about how incredibly fucked it is that the government has allowed even basic low fi broadcast signals to be commodified into something you have to pay for, for the basic broadcast fequencies being sold, and used for other purposes. For the sad fact that now without the luxury of a digital television, or some diital reciever, not to mention the luxury of electricity...We were going to listen to AM radio. I immediately had (surprise) an idealized scenario running through the brains. It did not play out, and actually cemented a little bit more of my disconnect from the general population. No one got quiet. No one intently listened. No one reacted to the energy or excitement in the voices of the announcers who put their shit into letting you audibly see the game. The crowd at the bar either got annoyed and talked about leaving...made jokes about the whole situation and drunkenly prattled on. But no one could focus! I tried my hardest but tuning out the noise and focusing on something I wasn't really actually interested in wasn't the easiest. But I really couldn't. Instead I did more of what I was really there for in the first place. I watched the people. I listened. I thought about their inability, and sudden disinterest in paying attention to something they were all so seemingly invested in...now that their image had disappeared. Without the image, without the streaming digital flow of flashes of advertisements and logos, without viewable violence and facial hair, without the background organ music or mid ninties dance songs, without sideline shots and a mind numbing glow they didn't know what to do.

*margarita and computer party with Claire and Zack on a Sun-day Monday.

Awaiting.

Apparently this album is due in 2 days. I'm glad I JUST found this out, otherwise I would have been anxious for it.....

I picked up a special 45 of theirs today as part of National Record Store day. It's pretty awesome and has the following track on side a. Traceyanne and the whole lot are just so melancholy and I must say currently I'm due for some upbeat stringy twee poppish depressing songs about relationships.




UPDATE:
Since it's apparently video hour on my blog ( I swear I am processing some rolls tomorrow ) this is the new Ladytron video. Another forever favorite band of mine. This song really stuck out on their most recent album, in fact I even found a draft of a post never published on here with the main refrain, followed by only "I've been a little out of sorts lately" from myself. I'm glad they've released it. A softer side showing through.

As for the video. It kind of looks like/reminds me of a time I had on the past trip to San Fran. Right down to the end. I think the girls are supposed to be Claire and I standing on the mountains in the headlands. Although there were no women floating up into the sky with billowy fabric.

Today at work II

Actually, this was Saturday.

I am working on an installation of glass work by Italian artist Maria Grazia Rosin. Her work is being installed in the Forum gallery. It consists of hanging chandeliers that resemble either sea creatures or space floaty alien things. Depending on whether you're a glass half empty or half full type of person. There is also a projection and speakers assigned to specific sculptures, their soundtrack I haven't heard yet, despite the fact that that is mostly what I'm working on. It's been fun.

Ashley Todd

Ol' B-Face herself:

Blowing Tops.

Hey Ya.

Just a quick hit from the little john underground. These RCMP pictures are making their rounds as a free track has been spread along the world of the internet. Dudes know how to make your body move. Check out these posts on DISCOBELLE and the Philadelphyinz site, respectively for use of my shots with links to your next party's jam.

Philadelphyinz

Discobelle

Did you hear?

RCMP

Some promo shots I did for a friends upcoming music project.

A few more here.

New Places.

Taken a small bit ago. Before I painted the floor white, before there was ice covering the ground. It was a nice ritualistic embrace of this new space, however fleeting it may be.

Two Tins