the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth...

this is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

a phenomenal time to be living in the digital age, but at the same time, a scary time for any photographer who grew up, learned and broke into the scene using a film camera.

and I'm proud to be guilty of being such a person.

For many "old school" photographers, the ease and practicality of digital photography casts a dark cloud over many who have recently taken up "the camera", and decided to call themselves "professional photographers' with little or no training.
The web is bedlamized with these people and their sites. Their claim to fame and ruthless bid for your attention.

The market is now over saturated, but perhaps in that plethora of 'Wanna Be Richard Avedons' the true gems really shine.

Those artists who truly have a vision, a unique way of viewing the world around them, these are the people who can take a square metal box, some photo sensitive plastic and turn that into pure magic.


Thank you to a wonderful fellow photographer who knows what real film is all about for reminding what it's all about and why i can't live without my box of plastic and metal...

Not Yet Home

Not yet home...

Saw a place, loved it, but was aprehensive at first.

The fear was a of fear of change.

Went back to see it.

Fell in love all over again.

Took 24 hours to be sure.

24 hours later, the landlord turned into a monster.

Took back his offer.

Now back to square one.

We don’t have a new place to live anymore.

Exhaustion beyond belief.

All faith stripped away.

Left a little part of our soul behind - 

residual shells - the worn ghosts of hope.

Need time to rest. Need time to get lost.

Need time to forget that we're

 not home yet...

The power of photography, and coincidences

Call me sentimental, but I do believe that things happen for a reason. That there is something more than cosmic glue that holds the universe together, that there is truth behind the mystery of "the butterfly effect", and when these seemingly incoherent illogical yet lyrical rivulets flow into my stream of consciousness, i am filled with a deep appreciation of being alive, and so very present in second it happens...

I began to scan some really old photographs: friends, family, myself, all serving as visual reminders of a fleeting moment. Looking at each one, i seemingly instantaneously recall that exact moment in great detail, which then leap frogs me into a whole other sublime haze of wonder of that particular time. Oh the joys of hearing the shutter click, the sounds of plastic emulsion being pulled away from its tight spindle inside the body of the camera. Indeed what fond memories they were.

erase the bad, highlight the good...

Dad loved it. And because of him,  i grew up with it, and as I aged, it too became my all consuming passion. That film canister did not fall far from the Kodak tree.
As well as the guitar. But the film/movie machine became my bread and butter maker...

Could it be a strange coincidence that while perusing the Barnes and Noble site this evening, (and after seeing this, be on the precipice of suffering a fit of seizures from sheer excitement that) they are having a 50% off Criterion Collection DVD/Blu-Ray sale (!)  that our of sheer curiosity, I click on a title of a film that i have never seen before called "Everlasting Moments", that unbeknownst to me, was a story about a woman who finds solace and peace in photography?

I saw the trailer and almost wept at the utter beauty of this synchronous moment.
Me: reaching for memories of better times through photographs.
Me: searching for a connection to other through photography
the universe: teaching me that photography has been, and will always be, a very big part of my life.


I did a quick search on the web to find out more about this film that i had never seen, but now wanted to rather urgently, and came across this review. Once again, the timing and message were that of divine intervention because nothing can be so perfect as this moment.


A Real Heartfelt Flick about the Empowering Quality of Photography, 
13 January 2009

Author: eugenetard from Los Angeles

This movie was an enjoyable surprise to me, really worth watching. I don't speak Swedish or know of the director. I just saw it at the Aero in Santa Monica, where they screened the foreign film Golden Globe nominees, and I'm so glad I caught it.

It's set in Sweden back in the day, before and during WW I, and it follows the life of this Wife and Mother, and her family. This woman is a rock, and she's the soul and center of this story. She's got hardships out the wazoo, mainly an ever-growing number of mouths to feed during a war, and a drunken, philandering, impulsive, and abusive husband to deal with. 

She won a camera in a lottery before she was married, and, never having used it, tries to sell it for the cash. The old gentlemanly proprietor of the camera shop sees a chance to share his passion, and sets her up with film and developer and whatnot. Thus begins a friendship, maybe a platonic love-affair, between the two based on the power and beauty of picture-taking. 
And, as any film concerning photography should, this one looks Just Great. It's got a grainy sorta washed-out look that really takes you away to that time and place. But it also serves the tone and feel of her story really well. It takes you with her inside, into her picture- taking.
This is what I dug so much about this movie, was its take on the possibilities provided by photography, and Art in general. Where making art can take a person. This woman has such a bunch of trials and troubles, her family life is so stocked with drama, set against a backdrop of World War and labor strife. And yet she's able to transcend to some higher levels, and get something out of it, maybe make a little sense of it, whenever she takes out the camera and uses it. 
The different reactions and repercussions to her taking up photography are awesome. And the moments where we witness her really starting to get into it are so cool. The actress is so so good, and while she's a more-or-less ordinary-looking woman, when she's seeing her results of her picture-taking, her eyes just light up with such a subtle fascination and beauty. It's awesome. 
And for this stuff, the movie's a Must-See for folks who are into Photography &/or Film-making. We get to witness this woman's entry into her Artistic Space.
The photo-shop proprietor looks at her pictures and says "It's not everybody who really has the Gift of Seeing."
If you're down with that notion like I am, then See This Movie.

I have often told people: "When you don't listen to what God is telling you in a whisper, he hits you with a hammer on the head. "Hammer on the head! Some details and signs are just too obvious to be ignored!"

And tonight, before releasing the button on the shutter, the universe left it open long enough for an indelible image of my purpose in life to be frozen in time. A snapshot for me to look back upon and say: "Yes, I remember this moment, a moment in the raw."

A letter to a friend

a letter to a photographer friend today - a reply to his message after seeing my film
Clair Obscure.

I was surprised by what gushed forth
sometimes I surprise myself, in a good way :-)

Oh Dave,

you have no idea how much your message has touched me. So many emotions. I don't know where to begin...

first, I'll start from the end...

Interesting you picked up on the whole doc/60's-70's feel. I guess my religious viewing of films such as shock corridor (Sam Fuller), Titicut Follies (Frederick Wiseman), 2001 (Kubrick), A woman under the influence (Cassavettes) and of course, One Flew over the cuckoo's nest (Forman) and Let there be light (Huston). Film has been a huge part of my life. When my parents divorced, i was 11, and my weekly father's visits consisted of dinner @ Wendy's or McDonalds followed by a movie. That's all we did. That was his way of connecting. After watching a film, we'd go for ice cream and have our own "At the movies" critique session. You can imagine how interesting they were when we saw 2001 a Space Odyssey and Apocalypse Now (he snuck me into that one. Opening week - crazy insanity. He literally snuck me underneath his coat!!)

And when I did film production @ university, we were old school. 1990. Cutting film was an organic experience. Almost spiritual.

manic depression is often a ticking time bomb, present in the family tree and detonated during or after a traumatic event - my detonation was my parent's split. After that. puberty wreaked havoc until I was 19. That's when I had my full blown breakdown. It was ugly. It is truly a miracle I lived to tell the tale. I should have been dead by now, more than half a dozen times over...

After almost a year of being shuttled from emergency room to another, I was helped by a doctor who was starting a crisis clinic at one of the hospitals. She was a pioneer in her field and research into bipolar. It was the light at the end of the tunnel, but little did I know, the tunnel would be filled with sewage, rot and stigma. (funny enough - while I'm writing this, I just realized that the whole scene in the tunnel might have been a subconscious link to that...)

I was hospitalized for a week and then a day patient for a month. The big mental hospital is actually an old mansion on the mountain. Ornate, yet now devoid of all its glamour, it was a hollow shell of a once grandiose existence - so much like the life of a person with bipolar - after the crash...

I knew I was not 'crazy/over the edge" as some of the people there were, but i was not far from it. I had actually looked into the abyss. Stood on the precipice of no return. It was a welcome end to an existence filled with pain, confusion and relentless chaos. That ledge was so narrow. Despite my new 'medicated lithium state", it was terrifying to actually know that i was so close to jumping into an alternate reality because mine had become a living hell. The woman who sat in the waiting room, in the buss, arranging her groceries, watching out the window as the world passed her by, letting the wind blow through her hair. That could have been me. In that waiting room, in that other world...

what brought me back, i still don't know. But to this day, I am forever thankful that by some divine intervention, i returned. Perhaps it was the will to live, my higher reptilian brain telling me to push through. Or perhaps it was my old soul telling me it was my gift to be able to share this experience with the world. That my suffering was indeed necessary to be able to coherently explain life "on the other side" and to give others hope, and others insight into an existence that is nothing short of hell on earth...

Your relationship with your ex-girlfriend - bless your heart. We all need somebody as understanding and loving as you are to her. You are insightful and kind to realize that bipolar is something bigger than we are. It is bigger than our logical mind. It is our emotional mind on crack. It's the vortex of fear and isolation, of gravity and pain twisted around synapses that fire furiously, out of control, without a plan. Rabid. Paralyzing. What we say and do during our mixed states is not of our own consciousness. It is the muddled kaleidoscope of isolation, broken dreams and terror.

And ADD, I suffer from that too, albeit a mild version but  I know all too well how that can turn a normal task into a labyrinth of confusion and complication.  Mine runs into elliptical and illogical ruminations about death, paranoia and other worst case scenarios. Sometimes, I can't even step out of the house because I'm afraid that the earth will open up and swallow me whole, or that I will spontaneously combust. My mind checks over the details like a mega processor, but the computations never add up but information spews forth at random, adding to the confusion and chaos in my brain.

Dysthymic  Disorder - that languid melancholy, worn like a wet overcoat. How it turns the most beautiful sunset into a realization that another day has passed and life is that much shorter.  How the excitement of a new day is filtered through the density of apprehension that what we didn't do yesterday is yet another reason to put off what we could have done to what we should do, but then as the sunset begins, we get lost in an endless cycle of regret and what seems like idyllic hope. I really hope that you are able to manage those episodes. That you have found a medication to ease the pain. I have found that CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy has helped me a lot), but as with all ways of seeing and learning, it takes practice. The key is to stay positive and focused. Which for people like us, is nothing short of a hurdle in itself. Having friends who understand and believe in you are key.

But I think the worst part is dealing with the people who think "it's all in your head". Yes. It is. But despite that when they say : "just snap out of it" - mental illness is a chemical imbalance. The brain is a complex system of nerve tissue, fibers, neurons, dendrites and synapses - all working together or against each other. Even in the 21st century, science is still in the initial stages of comprehension and unraveling the mystery that is the human mind. I have had to deal with people who say: "just get a grip on life", "everybody has problems", "it's all in how you deal with it" or the best one: "buck up and face your problems like a man/woman".  It is my hope that one day, people who are these ignorant naysayers live one life in the mind of somebody who suffers as we have. I have no doubt that they would quickly change their mind and opinion, but until then, I try with my photography and films to drive the point home.

Did you see my "blue series" on flickr? I have a bunch of other "self portraits" that try to illustrate life on the other side of sanity. With each shutter click, i hope that one day I will get closer to being more cohesive, better at expressing my experiences. It's important that people know and understand. Ignorance breeds contempt and hatred. Our world is filled with enough of that. 
People who suffer by no will of their own need a fucken break. 

All my life i've had to deal with people labeling me a "weird/off/strange/psychotic/wacky". A good friend of mine from high school with whom i recently reconnected with said that people often came to her and asked: "why are you friends with her? She's pretty messed up." But she stuck through, believed in me and said - 'that's why she's so special. And that's why she's my friend." If only i had that kind of unconditional acceptance from my friends and family. 

After a nasty court settlement when i turned 20, my mother, father and both lawyers on both sides sat in our lawyer's office and when asked if we had any last words, I looked at him and pulled out a piece of paper.

"dad, you think that this is all in my head - this depression. this mania. my suffering. Here is a list of doctors that will tell you that I am in fact suffering from bipolar disorder. That it is real. I encourage you to get in touch with them and talk to them yourself."

without looking at me, he packed up his briefcase, took the paper, folded it into a tiny square and shoved it in his pocket. 


"Well, if I were to ask the doctors when all my problems started, they would say that it all started when you were born."

And with that, he left the room. His lawyer, my lawyer and mother all stood there, silent and shocked. His lawyer apologized profusely. So did our lawyer. So did my mom. It was something I would have to get used to.

How ironic is it that to this day, my dad, even though he has seen my film, still does not believe that what i suffer from is a legitimate and medical condition.

It is still something I am getting used to. But if my film can touch one person, then all of this will have been worth it.

And your message has made me smile.

I'm so happy that it touched your life. That means everything to me.

Please stay well Dave, and i have faith that one day, we will be able to share our stories on the battle field. We have come through the difficult task of survival, overcoming the stigma, and through that, will inspire others.

hpk

whaaa??

I'm always floored when people say they like my art. I mean, people who say they really like my art. Not just because the pictures are pretty, the colors are harmonious, faces are attractive or subject matter is witty. But people who are artists themselves, who use art as a vehicle for communication, expression, living.

A fellow artist reached out to me the other day. Saw my photos on Saatchi Online and wanted to send me an email.

I was checking my messages on Saatchi and saw your thumbnail. So I ventured over to your site and I love what you do. Its some really great stuff and I know what little relief, confirmation, or whatever other reaction that comes from someones mere recognition of your work, but I felt that you at least deserve that. I love the portraits and your film.




Wow.


I mean wow!


I was completely blown away. 


And that was only a portion of some of the other messages i received over the past few days...


This was all hot on the heels of a few weeks ago when a publishing house from Jakarta found three of my images online and wanted to put them in their next book of "upcoming and important art". There was a catch - to buy the book was 100$ US (200$ retail), but it was not mandatory to be a part of it. The royalties are bird poop, but to know that this book will be circulating all through Asia is quite an eye opener. Who knows what will happen, who will see my work. The important thing is that it's getting out there. FINALLY. On the wings of a prayer and pixel, things might just be looking up.


I was all about to toss my camera away. Relegate it to the halls of silent sewing machines and miscellanies of cloistered craft kits. The dead zone of artistic endeavors started with good intentions, but now fated to become relics for future generations. 




I had one last hope. One last whim as a "photographer" - to submit to a high gloss fashion magazine. "What do I have to lose? No stamps involved in cybermail !"


Well, off it went. And to bed was I to go. But seven minutes after the initial whoosh sound from my outbox, came a delicate "bing!"


Oh, crap. It bounced.
Was my first thought. Now I know that I have to modify my first thoughts from constantly being negative to perhaps being optimistic!




Note to self. 
Make a note of this...


WOW!! The first one rocks!!! The second is grand and if we place these, I want to make sure there is a full message. do you have more to look at?? Can't wait!


why, yes, as a matter of fact, I do!


and so off it went, batch # 2, and then 3, and 4.


What did I get back?
Well, the universe rewarded me with this one:


You have such a lovely perspective on your art. I went through your images and there are so many I really loved. I would love to see a mix of some for you to submit if you are down with that. I will go through them and post them and if you are into it, please send images by following the image submission form. I can't believe the talent the body painter has! WOW! HOLY SEEEEEEETTTTT!!!


whaaaaattt!?!??


Really?!!


This magazine kicks serious ass. I mean, really serious ass. It was a submission on a whim. Never even thought i'd get a second look cause the quality is beyond top notch, it's stellar. And me with my little self portraits looking all moody and stuff.. 


But it was not 10 minutes after this email I got another.

Some other gallery owner personally took the time to email me to notify me of an "art competition i should know about". He, an art collector, was online and found my site. "We look forward to viewing your submissions".

whaaaaattt!?!??

Floored. 

It was all i could do to not jump around the house like a child on Christmas morning.

two days after, a new connection with a fellow flickr-er.

I loved her work. It spoke to me, and apparently, mine did to her as well...

You know, i was actually timid about making you a contact.... I thought you'd find my work.. I don't know... overdone of bland...

So for two years, i've followed your work, where i saw it in groups, but never felt i should join in the parade of your followers.

I regret that, now *s

Holy sheeeeet.

Was this the universe hammering me in the head - shouting at me: "DON'T DO IT! KEEP YOUR CAMERA!! KEEP ON GOING!!"

well, whatever it was, is, will be, it's working. And I'm so very thankful of every day that my work travels over millions of miles of network cables, through the air, and into the eyes and minds of those who choose to see.

Thank you universe.

Thank you God.

Thank me.

Thank you :-)

you truly are a gift...

Boob doc 2mrw. Time to check up on my well marbled porterhouse steak breast tissue.

Got the confirmation for my g-scope next monday (first one in - THANK GOD), just waiting on the surgery confirm.

Pain. Serious.
Had somebody in from out of town last night. Was quiet as a mouse. I had to breathe through the stabbing jolts. Spent more time breathing than talking.
I have a place where they are to visit. I just wish I could be well enough for the long flight down. Right now - 10 minutes is all I can take sitting down before i have to lie down again. A 10 hour flight would kill me...

Did lots of news for my website updates.
Wow.
Lots of shit going on!!
My CV looks pretty damn impressive. Almost 5 pages long. And that is just the photography stuff. There is also the writing and cinema CV's. It's a shame that I'm not making any money off this stuff. And it's definitely not for a lack of trying.

My luck as always...

And apparently, my cards were selected to be part of the ABAD show in Croatia! Could the Eastern European block countries be my next market? First Ukraine, now Croatia!? Very cool indeed.

Next show - Morrocco.
Was offered a place to say there for four nights c/o the organizers. What a dream that would be, but alas, $$, $$ $$. Rubbing two pennies together is tough, i can't even fathom 2000$...

but i can always dream right?

Had a phone call from Charlotte the other day.

It was so nice to talk to her. We reminisced about our Sex and La Cite days and said that we should do something again.

Writing with her came so naturally and talk about comedic chemistry!

It was so nice to be able to do something that made people laugh.

I need to laugh on days like these.

Sadness has begun to take its toll.

but Charlotte said something that made me smile, and made me feel so appreciated in a world and time where and when I don't feel so much so:

"Some people I know bitch about everything, and some people who are going through only half of what you are going through drone on endlessly about their miseries. You don't - you laugh. That in my book is quite amazing. You know hpk, you truly are a joy and a gift to all those people who have you in their lives. You always laugh, and that is just wonderful."

I was almost in tears. 

What a wonderful thing to say!

Amazing how a few little words could go so far in healing this wounded spirit and body...

I need to hear things like that these days.

Thank you Charlotte!!

all the way in croatia!

Originally uploaded by ivanarezek

Well, my image has made its way to Croatia.
A little message about my struggle with bipolar disorder. How death played such a major role in my life back then, even as much as living, back when the two options were oddly interchangeable.

I hope those who see this image are moved, and made more aware about mental illness, and the devastating effects it has on everybody's life.

This is for you Bob, for you Phillipe. Two beautiful people who died too young - who took their lives because of their overwhelming struggle with depression.

That is what photography is about.
Changing a life, one shutter click at a time.

Happy Birthday B

she would have been 89 today

Happy Birthday B.
I can't think of a more fitting tribute than to have your postcard and your story touch other people's lives around the world. For starters, you have already visited Brasil. Next stop, the town you came to call home...


A book about death


(click on images to see full size)

Front and back

Front

Back

Front - no back

how cool is that?

Hellophotokitty, you've received $157.79 for your submission!

Thank you for submitting to the BBH Creative Invite. As part of Talenthouse's mission to provide artists opportunities for recognition and compensation for this Premium Creative Invite, each artist will receive a portion of the $6,500 USD equal to their share of total votes received.

Congratulations, you acquired 2.43% of the total votes and you will be receiving $157.79 USD!

For somebody who was "a semi-finalist", and asked as many people as I could to vote for me, ( i know a lot of people, but not THAT many), any cash is good cash for me.

I'll take it where i can get it, and if it's for my photography, even better.

seriously!?

r u serious?

I was selected as a semi-finalist in this contest!? Really?

I mean, really?

That's no small bananans cause there is lots of competition on this site.

really?

i think that is incredibly cool, and makes me smile despite the fact that I think i have a stalker.

I will be meeting some people next week for self defense courses. Seriously paranoid. Better to air on the side of caution.

seriously...

what i am, what i am not

Today, I feel fragile and worn.

Despite the wonderful news that I was 3rd place winner at the Art Festival in the Ukraine. Pretty damn impressive for something that i was not even going to enter.

They found me.
They liked my stuff.

I am a photographer.


Got another email from an arts company in NYC. They seem like a "vanity agent" - pay us 1000$ and we will put you in our arts magazine. I wrote to Bob in NYC. He's the man in the know and i know he has my back. I will wait on his advice before moving in on this offer.

I am not (that) gullible.

While posting my last batch of images on flickr, i found myself editing each shot. Don't put this one, it's not flattering. Don't add that one, your stomach looks like a soggy bunched up sheet of flesh. This one is too dark, too much grain and the blacks look muddy. Judgment is my biggest enemy.

I am a perfectionist.

A link from a fellow flickr self portrait artist threw the monkey wrench in my "best laid plans for accepting myself". It's 3am and still not sleepy. More wired than anything else, and when i'm wired, the buzzards swoop down into my grey matter and pluck at the veins that feed blood to my brain.

I'm not accepting sleep as an option.

E said that this latest series is one of my best. Sam on flickr also said the same thing: "You have reached a pinnacle of sort with your art". Wow. That is very cool. I am very happy.

I am learning to accept compliments.

So best laid plans led astray. Best intentions run amok. Self image out the window. The girl must not be more than 21. Her body, svelte, skin taut across her flat belly and perky breasts. No droop or stretch here. She was interviewed in a magazine that is an erotica online one. Very tasteful, but catering and by the under 30 group. Mostly women in this issue. And she is one of them. Her photographs are pretty. Moody lighting, sensual poses and come hither expressions. I'm jealous of her beauty, her youth, her ability to have the self confidence to show herself so boldly. What happened to me?

I am not jealous.

I am lying to myself.

What happened? Life happened. Cancer happened. Death happened. Mental illness happened. Why would a gallery owner in the heart of the New York City gallery district believe so completely in my self portraits? Because they are real. Not plastic, not fake, not perfectly staged. This must be my mantra. Realization of what the most important things in life are. I longed to be in his gallery, and two years ago, i marched on in with nothing but my big city set of balls and a few prints. That was good.

I am learning to take what is important and make that more important than the unimportant stuff.

I will not stop photographing myself.

I will become more forgiving of myself.

I will unconditionally love myself as i am.

I will not let them get me down.

what i am and what i am not
what i will and will not do




...

5am...

just finished a marathon photo correction session.

The Japanese client job went well. Lots of work in that one, but I'm tracking the UPS shipments to Atlanta and Japan. 4:15am, they left Louisville Kentucky and are on their way to their final destination.

Yesterday, or was it the day before? Gah, i don't even remember, I had another job. A friend actually. Her magazine turned 10 and her regular photographer canceled. So I came to the rescue. But that also meant lots of photoshop work to follow.

It's 5am and i just finished the whole thing.

I needed to finish it. Feel like something bigger is coming my way and need to free up some creative time.

Speaking of creative, nah, this first...

I was thinking to myself: I need to find a good astrologer in the city. I need to find out what the planets have in store for me. I need to be prepared, find guidance and stable footing. Need to get a path, so that way i can try to walk a straight line with some purpose and level of determination.

Well, guess what? I was taking my walk to send my packaged and along the way i see this little sign - astrology, and vhitu and feng shui. Wild.

On my way back i knock on the door. A little round indian lady with henna stained hands smiled when she saw me.

"Yes, can i help you?"

Asked her about the astrology, apparently it's her husband who does it. She disappeared into the invisible curtain of curry that separated me from her world and came back with a colorful card. Vishnu dancing next to a cell phone number.

"It's very busy now. U will call to make an appointment?"

"Yes indeed. How much does your husband charge?"

"Ohh that depends. Best you call him."

and so i will today, or whenever i plan to get up if i do decide to fall asleep now.

Rain on my window and david sylvian on the itunes.

He always makes me think of rain.

R.I.P canon 10D

the night before my big shoot, my little back up camera died

i am furious and distraught.

also kicking myself in the foot for lending it to a friend who shot it into the ground.

I knew that it was a weak little thing, but he is my best friend and was in a jam.

but now i'm in a jam.

and he's not around, or has no cash to help me out.

i wanna cry...

prep

on saturday, i will take on a very high profile shoot. Needless to say, i'm nervous as hell.

Checking my equipment and realizing that i am missing some things is getting me a little rattled. But I must sleep, so i will leave the camera bags, cables, lenses where they are and deal with it 2mrw.

I got some wonderful news today. Max Ryan is going to be in the new Sex and the City movie!! I'm so very happy for this wonderful man. He was a dream to work with, and made me think of "old school hollywood actors" - utterly professional, kind, and warm.

I posted some stuff on flickr, and facebook but shamelessly added my watermark cause i know that the net can be an evil monkey when it comes to plagiarizing images. Has happened to me in the past. I know it will happen again. Time to prevent it.

but it's funny, this shoot came at a point in my life when i was ready to throw away my camera for good. I was all tapped out, but this saved me.

Perhaps shooting Japanese businessmen for a medical journal will be my saving grace...

collaboration

Alex is one of my very best and dearest friends

He came back into my life 5 years ago after 15 years away.

His artwork is truly magical, and he has not been crowned the world championship in body painting twice for no reason.

We got to work together last night, and as always, it was magic.

I singlehandedly thank him for saving my photographic sanity.

All photographers should have a friend like Alex.

Thank you alex.

good to know i'm not the only one...

August 26, 2009. 12:56AM. Dear Diary: I can't believe it! Ever since I've started posting semi-nude self-portraits on Flickr back in 2005, I've been flooded with international sexual opportunities! Can my perfectly rounded scoops of flesh and my unyeilding neurotic preoccupation with sex, sexy thoughts and all things sexual (for that matter)really cause such a stir?

Dr. Jo

DRK:

Hahaha! I feel like I've just read a "spam mail" heading!

"My intentions are good, I use my intuition, it takes me for a ride," sang John Lennon. How fitting. I think.

Anyway, this is hilarious.

Dr. Jo:

My breasts have become completely unresponsive to any and all attempts to cajole them back to Fucker. I mean Flickr.

HPK:

hahah! Yep. My hooters have been hiding behind a well padded facade for a while now. Ignorance is oddly blissful, but at times, suffocating. Flickr haunts and taunts me, but alas, mine are unresponsive as well. Don't worry dear Joanne, a few more weeks of bench presses and they will be popping out of your shirt - literally!!! lol !

Dr. Jo:

You too, HPK? My "relationship" with Flickr and the Flickr "audience" has undergone many transformations but it seems to be on the decline as of late. I wonder if that's all there is or simply, has my desire to be "out there" waned a bit? Perhaps I haven't any more to give...or I just like the "intimacy" of FB better? Dunno., but this is fine for now :)

HPK:

It's comforting to hear I'm not the only one going through this bizarre period. Flickr is a strange place now, crawling with bottom feeders trolling for porn in whatever crumb they can find. That's one big reason I didn't post my profile pic here there. Can you imagine how many foot freaks would fave that photo? Ewwwwee...

And I've noticed some of the people I had as contacts have "un-contacted" me. I feel a bit betrayed somehow. I exposed myself to them, they replied with love and support, and now it's as if i don't exist. (but that's a whole other bag of beans).
Transformation. A change of direction in our art? It's all so scary. What used to be my saving grace has now turned into a used kleenex. Why am i keeping it if it is just making my pocket all soggy? But It's more than a kleenex - it's a handkerchief really. And that always has sentimental value attached. So flicker, & style that defined me are my hanky. Toss, wash or keep? That is the question...

what do you do?

what do you do when the love is gone?

when there is no passion, no spark, just jealousy?

Anger, disappointment?

When the one that made you feel whole, alive now makes you long for the past?

What happens when those memories are too painful to relive, revisit?

I am seriously considering selling my camera.

There is no joy in my photography anymore. There is no excitement, no reward.

A craft that i once attributed to saving my life has now become my poison.

It's so sad. The feeling is bittersweet, as if i am saying goodbye to a lover who has been my secret confidant. But I must move on.

Every time I hear about people around me, people who i know getting all this attention for their photography, a weekend hobby and a shitty 80$ digital camera, that makes me sad. I spent years on the craft. The art. Somebody just comes along, shoots off 600 images, and yes, because the law of odds allows them chance, get a good shot out of the bunch, be praised and honored - makes 10 + years of study, toil and tears jump out the window.

There is a big difference between somebody who personally invests in their art, the creative process, and people who are just bored, curious or lazy. I'm tired of fighting. I have done enough in the past few months to last ten lifetimes.

But i can't help but feel a deep sense of loss, abandonment, fear.

When i come back from camping, i'm going to put my camera and equipment up for sale. The money i make from it could go far in getting me a ticket to Europe. Perhaps to Greece. I need to make a profound change. I need to cut out my own psychological cancer that has been ravaging my body for some time.

Thank you photography, you have been very special to me, but now i must move on.

I no longer recognize you anymore, and that's a pity.