a something...

out the window at work


the stairs at 155th


a few posts back i put up a shot of this same doggie in little tiny doggie camos...
yes, he is wearing a light blue polo and a red down vest with a hood...a hood?
to quote a friend of mine: "queer" =D

an email conversation:

dm: I haven't shot anyone in a couple of months. I kinda wanna get into a regular routine you know? I've been looking @ the "365" projects on flickr & thinking about photographing & uploading something every day for a year. Although if its forced then it loses all of its enjoyment...
me: yes but it gets you into the habit of working. i may join you in that. something everyday...does the quantity matter? quality?
dm: I don't think so. It's up to you. As long as you shoot something I think you can adjust accordingly...
me: yes, i am going to do that...
i already carry my coolpix where ever i go... =/

so i am going to endeavor to take at least one photo everyday. either with the coolpix or the d40 and i will post it here, whether or not it's a good shot, or how many i decide to post.
starting today.

Criticism

Criticism will come. Fair and unfair criticism, useful and pointless criticism, sympahetic and mean criticism, the criticism that informs and the criticism that wounds. Should an artist attempt to duck all that criticism, the valuable as well as the vitriolic, and spare herself some pain? But that's quite impossible! For if she is seen at all, she is a critic's fair game. So hurray for criticism, if it means that an artist's voice is heard. Let the wise artist invite criticism and survive it when it comes.

"No statue has ever been put up to a critic."
Jean Sibelius

Ladies & Gentlemen, I give you

The House of M -

the above comes from Affirmations for Artists by Eric Maisel

a few of my least favorite things:

silly women
rude people
protein shakes -- actually the shakes aren't that bad, they curb the hunger and don't taste half bad.
but silly women still rate very, very high on my list.

going through

there is something about a fresh box of oil pastels...mmmm


man


the first letter my nephew sent me in his own hand...


quite literally a fly on the wall...i had to do it


before the street


her


that's the tall one


this is the beauty...

above are snaps i have had in my camera for a few weeks. i figured i would share.

i love this picture of myself...self portrait. what i am most interested in is someone taking a shot of me that i like. so far i have been the only one to get what i wanted from myself.

i have a lot of things to think about these days. not the least of which is how i am going to be when i turn 40. not that the age bothers me, it doesn't. it's just right now i am aimless and i feel like i am getting too old for this shite. it's time to put on my big girl panties and get the show on the road...i have no idea what i want my show to be about, but i do have to start deciding.

I can't seem to bury things deep enough these days
it all comes back up.

place i belong

harlem angel

there is
a low slung moon
over this city
lone witness to
this pain that
has named me
and i belong to
no man
no child
no place
i know i can't be
any good for anything
but that
to which i have given
myself over
i will take the place between
quiet and unseen
with a
still beating heart
until it stops

eye-land girl

i am originally from the south shore of long island, new york. not particularly proud of that, but there it is. i hated it there when i was growing up so bad, in fact, that when i left and my family moved i swore that i would never go back. i don't want to say that i was wrong, but i was not exactly right.
i do go back every once in a while.
i still have family there. uncle, aunt, cousins...big family and when i get to feeling like i need to be a part of the chaos of a big family i go and just hang out or i become a part of the frenitic energy that is a big, loud, happy, family.
i was there yesterday.
i hugged my aunt and uncle, harrassed my boy cousins, talked and laughed with the girl cousins and then last night i dreamt that i was just messed up. everything i did, no matter what it was, it was just fidd-ucked. then somehow i made it back home. i don't mean my hole in the wall in this city. i mean my long island, my town, my street, my house, my room, my bed. my mother and father was there, my brother and sister...my room was clean, dark and warm and all i could do was cry and climb into my bed. i could feel everything just melt from me. everything i have to worry about was gone. i was suddenly 12 again and everything was going to be OK.
i think...no i know the one thing that frightens me most is that i will never make it home.

breakfast of slackers!

there are more bottles of vitamins than are pictured here. and they're BIG tablets. i have to take them all in shifts and they make my pee atomic yellow. *sigh* i need to get healthy.

wednesday girl

this shot should really go along with the 'bottle of suds & the shit people say' post, but you know, it never quit made it. i like it though.
it's actually tuesday, but wednesday is on my mind.
i have much to say, but i have to make myself some dinner and find my way to queens. so, more later...

***

it's later, but not much...

i wanted to add this...

my day in the kew

WHO can resist a box of mickey dee's fries?
Them jonts was gone 'fore they was finished sizzlin'


the dog is possessed. he's cute until hs head does a 360...
and he's wearing doggie camos...seriously, this creature has more clothes than i do.


roach in a baggie anyone?? - ew.


yes please.

comic den entry way.

kew gardens today. cuban food, or was it dominican?
whatever, it was a bit strange, the rice had raisins in it. good though. saw the duchess - black women beware, this movie will provoke feelings of wanting to toss a pot of hot grits on someone.
wrote a poem:

i'm sitting in a cafe on 8th
watching the world
through a dirty window
pen in hand
paper in place
hoping
my muse will join me
for a chat
maybe he can shake from me
reasons
for try as only trying might
i have no reason
for us
just
some devil
kissed my heart
made me want you
mostly
there is this ghost of you
stuck inside me
pinning me to the ground
all i know is
i'm not strong enough
to know
just how
to do...this

that's been rattlin' around in my head for a few weeks. sad because words don't come like they used to. and i am not quite sure what i will do without my poetry...write a novel perhaps?

day on 8th

i spent the day on 8th avenue buying make-up seeing movies being disappointed by my friends - yet again. why do i care?

a bottle of suds and the dumb shit people say

at 9:45am i popped open a magic hat beer, the circus boy variety, and started drinking because i saw it in the fridge...ever have magic hat? now, i'm not a beer drinker, but i can never turn down a magic hat. with every sip it just gets better and better and by now, at 10:44am, they are tasting like lemonade. MM MM MMMM...
i dunno, i was talking to a friend of mine who is a few years older...she's kind of a broad like me and i just felt like drinking beer.
we were talking about how as you get older the more you start paying attention to what's been surrounding you for a while and you start to see that people will do and say the stupidest shit to you and you cannot figure out why. is it because you're the old person but you're cool so you can hear anything and not pass judgement or do they think you will validate their lunacy?
i've no idea, someplace a while ago i crossed a line. i went from being in the zoo to observing the goings on in the monkey house.
i guess i haven't learned how to balance that just yet so i drink a beer at 9:45am...and it goes down sssooooo easy.