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

Hot Summer

From a hot summer's day of packing and relaxing.

This weekend was fucking cosmic shaking magical. I would like to thank Mitchel, Claire, Laura, and the Universe. I shot some things of sorts. Should have them processed shortly. Also discovered some film in a Holga of which I am not sure of the origins. We'll see soon. This one is still from that batch from the past year.

Moo

C owing Down on Liberty.

How Little John Got His Groove Back.

6 hours in the darkroom today. More where this came from.
Please come again!

Mystical

Community, Non-Community, Fags, Friends, Ex-Friends, Ex-Boyfriends, Art Thesis, Art Work, Psyche, Personal, Self:

I love when things start coming together. When you have to sit down on the ground or you might pass out or shit your pants.

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.]

Haus

There was almost a fight at Gay Frat Haus a few nights ago.

But luckily, sharing was encouraged.

This past year.....

My friend Kelly took this digital photograph of me recently.
I don't think I have ever seen a shot by another person, in which I've felt like I can see myself.
Call me narcissistic, or call me someone who works pretty heavily in the mode of self portraiture, but I am in this photo.
I can read the past year or so, so precisely, so clearly. It's eerie to me, but incredible to see.
I also think the person in this picture is someone who is getting farther and farther away. And, I like that.

This is what the past year has looked like.....for my liver.

Moving On.

I have a feeling there will be lots more posts coming in the near future. I am sitting in my attic/studio with only a tank top on. It's not the warmest up here. I've been jumping around in various states of undress in front of the camera. I am thinking of starting a flckereilnswcw thing. I am going to buy some matte white paint. I am going to figure out how to bleed the radiators. I am going to take my camera back and might even print today. I'm moving very forward and after this weekend, and this moment right now, I'm moving very on.

Fuck. I'll never have a space like this n SF.
Fuck.

Dad Votes

I sent all of my family the same text message inquiring as to their voting status. My father responded via this hasty, typo'd, kind of awesome e-mail (and suffice it to say, when he says dope smoking, it's a term of endearment, wink wink) :



Go 'head Dad, go 'head.

I'm back.

Back from my whirlwind trip to my new home. Can't wait till I go and don't have to come back.
It's snowing, and thirty-six degrees out. I took very few photo's with the digital. Mostly 120 color. Also spent all my money. However, when I get paid I am sending those out. Then I'll get on scanning the negatifs for your general consumption.

My roommate John and I just spent about 5 minutes bitching about the axis of the Earth and the plague that is winter that it enacts on the northern hemisphere.

Here are some things that have made me happy lately, aside from my trip.


Coffee treats with my name in them.

Chloe visiting, and scooting (even if it's not in SF).
Max, my new boyfriend from San Francisco.
Cool pictures I've taken of projection equipment.

al - co - hol;_____

I'm always drunk in San Francisco;__
I always stay out of my mind.
But if you've been to San Francisco,
they say that things like this go on all the time.___

It never happens nowhere else,__
maybe it's the air;
Can't really seem to help myself;__
And, what's more, I  don't   care.

I'm always drunk in San Francisco;__
I'm never feeling any pain.
But tell me, why does San Francisco,
just like a lover's kiss, go straight to my brain?

I guess it's just the mood I'm in___
that acts like al - co - hol;___
Because I'm drunk in San Francisco,
and I don't drink at all.___________

[Repeat]

A Cautionary...

I was shopping at the party store...

....and saw this:

Melissa Joan Hart

One:

"Maybe I am just sub-conciously destroyed by pop culture."

While talking to my friend Bryan yesterday about voting and changes of address etc....We were discussing me not changing my registered address until after the election for a deep seated (by loads of political documentaries, thanks Filmmakers) that I will wind up in one of those hassles of "Oh, we don't have you listed here," or "You've never voted here before? Oh, you have to go here instead.." Bryan still votes where his parents live, out in bumble fuck. But not for any reasons like mine. He wants specifically to vote against Melissa Hart (former member of the House, PA District 4, running again this year after defeat last, and also royal conservative bitch). Good Reason. But Bryan kept calling her Melissa Joan Hart (Clarissa Explains It All, Sabrina the Teenage Witch). Surely these were not one in the same. We figured it out, and Bryan said one of the best things I have ever heard anyone ever say (above). On Point Bryan, On Point.

Two:
I am fucking exceptionally fascinated lately by peoples snapshot necessity. I've been asked multiple times in the past few days at work, about the photography policies of the museum. Policies aside, I have just had it on my brain. It's all people consuming. Not all, but some of it. It's people needing to validate, show, capture, and hold. I want to go back over some of my lecture shit about the snapshot and read read read and write write write. I think I am gestating right now. Gestation, cleaning my "studio space"...well, that's mostly relying on Marcus..., and writing. I made some official friends number getting etc. last night. I'm talking with Edgar about doing something. I'm going to be doing some travelling. I have 800 idea's. Something is going to get blown up soon. Positively.

Three:
Purses, What The Fuck, "Types," Cock Abstraction, PissFountain, PissChandelier, 35 Gay Men, Mural Length Foamcore, J.Fox's dog shit, White Tent Marimba/ist

Four:
I can't stop staring at the dude sitting outside ith the muscles and very well trimmed/grown beard.