Sometimes.....

It amazes me constantly. Having attended a wedding recently, I am always reminded of the unique and constantly changing moods of Man. How an individual can change so much, to show great compassion or hatred... to be so tender in some moments and then display brute force in another. Oh, I am not referring at all to the wedding - but as a general statement of my observances of Man.

Being ex-military (there... I've said it!) and having crossed this world a few times, plus having had the opportunity to live in difference places in my life, I've seen more than what the normal individual should be allowed to see and experience. That I have worked positions of physical security has exposed me to even more.... of course a normal citizen shouldn't be thrust into such levels of revelation... and while I don't enjoy seeing the sad face of Mankind, it is also a very interesting story and performance.

As a photographer, I have seen even more.... is it possible? I have captured many faces... virtually and real, construed to be real and posed to appear real. I've seen nice people act mean, and mean people who seemed incapable of feeling emotion, but cried like a baby. I have worked alongside those who seemed physically incapable of great feats of strength and in the time with them, noted that they surpassed their physical limitations in a positive way. Bossy people without a kind word would show a rare and in-depth side of themselves that surprised me... while shy and kind folks shocked me by acting out the opposite sides of their personalities.

The human side of Man is such a constant; it is no wonder that throughout the ages Man is and will always be the subject of many words and film performances.

Though I have been honored to have been able to associate with very kind and generous people during my lifetime, I have also seen my share of stupid acts of immaturity ~ age in my opinion, does not improve the level of intelligence, but only serves as a constant reminder that the old can be foolish and childish, and the young can oftentimes be more mature than their elders.

One does not have to be a certain age or having some vast experience in anything, in order to make a fool of themselves. Nor does it pertain to just one gender over the other, but of course my observations are not exactly approved by the members of most of the Earth's population.

Life is a roller coaster of emotions, experiences, trying times and beautiful moments however rare. It gives me wonder often, and also saddens me to the point of tears. I see the homeless and the rich, and think of such constants - what if they were to be traded in positions and homes for just one year? I have laughed at the maturity of tiny six-year olds, and in awe by the foolishness of 40-year olds. I have seen and felt the compassion of complete strangers and the wrath of "friends" who left me by the wayside.

Life is the best reality anyone can have. There is a world beyond our computer monitors and the tiny animated screen in the living rooms of the world. To live and rejoice in its color, its pleasures, the sadness, and the wonder of this Reality is more than anyone can ask. There is NO script, no lights but that glorious sunlight a few trillion miles away....

Let's bask in its warmth, its cold, its compassion and its hatred.... solely because it is Life, and it's the only one to lead us along our Destiny to the fin of the book, the end of the movie, the final commercial, and to our last pages....

Life has its times good and bad ~ we all know how it goes. It's sadness that bring misery to our hearts but without the heartache, how can we appreciate the good times, the pleasures and the joy? Sometimes one has to hit rock bottom in order to realize the climb back to the top can be one of joy too.

And when you reach the top, rest your body and take in the view.... I'll be there to enjoy it with you.

am I ever amazed....

Needless to say for those who know me, I am online 36 hours a day. What? You think I can't count... that might be true but if you were up all day and night, when you finally get to sleep it will seem longer than the 24 alloted....

I love "talking" to my friends in Europe.... I miss them a lot and wish I were back in that tight-knit community. The culture is different {better} and things are more relaxed.

Now I have my friends in Eugene... I miss that place too and though it certainly isn't the most wonderful place in the USA, to me and to this tired soul, it certainly comes very close to heaven. I cannot believe how friendly the natives are there and that's probably the biggest reason I chose that spot for my relocation from Spain... to me it was the same friendliness I experience, carve and love so much in my little rincon of Andalucia, except without the spanish. Each time I go back and I've been back about four times now, I am reminded of that friendliness by little displays of thoughtfulness that make me want to cry when I think of it... and I have.

Today in my little world of nothingness, I got a phone call from a young woman who is not only my friend but a beautiful person inside and out, and I have proof on virtual film! A call from a distant friend almost put me to tears again... I miss the hugs I would get in Eugene and in Spain, and here in SF you'd have to pay for one. I miss the straight-forwardness honesty of the people and here I am just so isolated... my few times of rare happiness is when I am on the road again driving to Eugene, or in a run around San Francisco with my camera taking pictures. That's not a life....

Isn't it disgusting that in my hometown, where I was born and raised, I have fewer friends than in Spain and Eugene? sigh....

cleaning out my old sent box - my life in emails

It's not easy seeing where your Life has been - no better method of "seeing" its direction but through cleaning out your old emails in your sent box. Seeing emails dated while living in Spain, later emails upon my arrival in Eugene were a revelation; even more those emails after my move to the Bay Area.

Then I've reading through the other stuff.... emails to models hoping {begging} for a foto session and being refused. People and others who posed for others of lesser abilities photographically, and never posing with me. Models who were excited about an upcoming foto session with me, and never showed up... flakes who were just like snowflakes... appeared from seemingly out-of-the-sky, then disappeared and with just a few words here and there, gone as if they never existed. Others who even bragged about their opportunity with me - called me an artist - and were so "looking forward" to my photographing them... they too like leaves on a dying tree.... fell and disappeared.

Virtual letters from people whom I knew to be ~ thought I ~ good friends and then disappeared without a trace when I moved to the USA. Friends that were and later friends I knew and had, but no longer... never without a reason. Thy just died virtually and left no forwarding soul to contact.....

Yes, that and this now has been my life... sad and depressing. I don't know how many times I've been told that they "love my imagery and can't wait to be photographed by such an artistic artist" and then I never hear from them again... It's depressing when this happens on such a routine basis that one wonders if the life they are supposedly living is real.... or not.

I got upset before - not any longer - when I see someone whom I wanted to photograph - pose for someone else. I don't have any money to pay models and I get turned down by any and everyone. Yes, quite sad but who cares.... they have their life and don't care about how I feel.... later I'll see through their modeling website that they had posed free for some other photographer, who had/has less vision than I... the pictures being little less than studio snapshots a 5th grader could've snapped, or nudes so horrid who but an idiot would display them? But they do and they have...

I remember once a "friend" - no longer as she abandoned me too - wanted me to do a portrait for her.... bragged to all her friends and family of this upcoming portrait session with me. Months later I saw her casually on the street and asked what had happened with that need for a portrait.... she just shrugged and said she went to a studio and had them done. I asked if she liked the results and she told me no, then proceeded to describe each and every little detail of WHY she didn't like them. I told her she shouldn't be telling me as I was not her photographer - she should tell that studio.... she stomped off and I never saw her again.

Now it's difficult to talk to people about my photography - I am always wondering: will they be like the rest and just say things that are nice, but the truth is.... they will disappear like the others....

It happens so often....

I've often wondered should I give up this hate/love relationship with photography ~ how I love photography but it and the people who see my work hate me and my images so much as to avoid me so. I remember how some people would stare at me as they would a fly when I told them I was an "artistic" photographer; after a few days they were awed as they described how they felt so together with the beauty I had "captured". They were agasp when I told them I made very little money from my photography..... they too promptly disappeared as do the others.

As I write this, my camera is again in the shop for the same problem it's had three previous times over the past few months and I haven't even had it a whole year! Have previously tried to stay away from a camera, but tis difficult because it's like chopping off your hands, your feet and walking blind into the darkness....

But they don't care.... I feel so bitter at times but who cares.... to go begging online to create pictures for someone.... If I had the money to pay for a model they would probably still turn me down.... I am "so" artistic they don't see how I feel when they turn me down and go to some other less-experienced photographer. They don't see my hurt when I see their newest cheesecake pictures taken by some guy with a camera who does his work more to see nude women than anything else, and makes more money in one day through his photography than I have made in the last five years.

They don't care how I feel.....

Right now I am listening to flamenco guitar music off the internet, listening to the spanish-style music all day and wishing I were back in my small apartment in warmer friendlier Spain... not restricted within a cell of so many feet and with no room for my clothes, my things and my memories. That I must relocate things each and every day just to be able to move around and do things ~ for that reason often I cannot find things.

This is not Life......

CSI ~ how Life imitates a living nightmare

As everyone who reads my blog ~ all four and a half of you out there ~ I love the CSI series. Living in Spain, these series just started airing probably about 2005 and I loved it from the very start. I immensely enjoy the plot, and how they show the details of how a crime scene is analyzed and inspected, how a scenario for a crime is determined and how new facts may reveal more details of the actual crime and how it occurred. But more than that, I love the human factor in these virtual tales, and how the human mind interacts with all this data, adds invariables, mixing it up with the unpredictable human factors and even the personal lives of the CSI team.... but finally, all within an hour - commercials included - it comes all together.

Often we are all exposed to the stark reality of a crime and how it looks under a microscope; what if our lives were to be placed in the public eye... how would we be seen and interpreted, and our lives, our personalities and lifestyles, habits, etc?

I also like how often the end of the episode is not as we would want; the bad guy gets away somehow, or the dirty partner is the fault but isn't charged. In this case, I saw a rerun today - I religiously watch CSI reruns every weekday and have seen many I've never seen before, and what a delight it always is when I catch those so far in the past it seems to me, to be a yet-unseen dust-covered relic from a treasure chest!

This particular one tells the story of how a brother was discovered at a crime scene. Every piece of evidence recovered points at him as the murderer; to which Grissom later remarks: "This places him at the scene and burying the bodies, but not as the one who killed those bodies". The evil brother is the actual killer and even has the nerve to send via messenger the key missing evidence required to convict the hapless innocent quieter brother. With this new evidence, he is told that he would likely see at the very least 10-20 years as a minimum, but possibly life in prison. The brother states with tears in his eyes: "I can't survive through that...." The ending of this episode has me crying as a medical emergency is called and Grissom is nearby; seeing the running police, he rushes in also.... only to see the innocent brother lying on the floor, covered with blood as he is supported by others in an attempt to save his life. This young man has used his own teeth to "slash" his veins and was "lucky" enough to hit an artery and the floor is quickly turning red beneath him... Grissom stands off to the side staring in shock, disbelief and horror.

He watches as the life in the gasping brother leaks out, as he dies with eyes open.... and Grissom now realizes he is witness to an unnecessary death of an innocent person.... his brother had turned him in to serve the death sentence which should be for him but... what in this world is right and what in this crazy unpredictable world is just, if ever?

CSI remains possibly one of the best television series I have ever seen, and most episodes move me to tears and disbelief at the outcome and unwelcome irony.

In this same theme, there are times when my own personal life is just as much an irony as any virtual life broadcast on the little screen that I have viewed. How many times can one be subject to rejection from a single person...

It is sometimes amazing ~ no: unbelieveable, how one single individual can take my life and fill it with happiness, joy, pleasure, hope and dreams, then in an eerie split second, take that same life, and with that same voice, easily and quite simply rip everything to shreds.... seemingly without a care of concern.

I have always considered myself a very patient individual with too much damn friendliness towards others and even strangers. It seems in this case though, I seem to have gone too far and allowed myself to be used and left by the wayside once too many times not by many, but by a single individual. In my life I have abandoned no one yet I am abandoned by everyone and everything.

So, here I stand at being rejected six times by a single person whom I know to such detail, I would like to think I know - knew - every thought process of this person before it would be actually revealed.

But, here I am again: amazed yet saddened that this person has again struck me down again, and this time it will be final. Am I wrong in holding on to a dream that seems to be not forthcoming? Is it wrong to dream when the other half of you seems to be holding back? Am I an idiot just because I hold on to something I have never been lucky enough to have, and with this departure, it seems as though my dream of a happy future with someone is now more fiction than a frog's pond?

How would you react if someone abandoned you so many times... am I the only idiot in this world? Or just the only one who has dreams..... never to become a reality?

Many persons have told me, yet I refuse to listen. There are people in this world who are not as they seem. Are my glasses just too thick for me to see this? I've always been a good judge of character but in this case, it seems my character has been sold out once too many times!

I think now is a good time to move some more heavy boxes, of which in my present location I have a lot of: dust-covered boxes filled with loneliness and isolation, while others over-flow with disappointments and let-downs.

It seems my measly life has had more than its share of these items.... to which there seems to be no end. sigh

nothing like a glorious flaming sunset to clear
the mind and refresh the soul

Back to my dungeon of filthy boxes.....

is this dew or my tears that drop from my lifeless arms...
falling to the ground like a million other tears before