medical lake

I trespassed to take these photographs.

The calf's entrails had been sucked out, its tongue removed, and its eyes are gaping holes in a face that is reminiscent of Edvard Munch's painting "The Scream".

The dusty corpse was shoved in a corner among other moldering artifacts from years past.

Nick and I jumped the gate and started up the dirt road that lead to the farm with Haley holding her post by the Buick to thwart passerbys. The sun was beating down on my neck, to attempt this mission in broad daylight seemed foolish.

But we had seen the cow the day before when the gate was open and I needed a picture of it.

It seems strange to me now, I am normally meek and law abiding, but the idea of having a picture of that thing possessed me. I couldn't say, "Oh, the gate's closed. It's just a weird eviscerated corpse..not worth it."
For some reason, I needed a photograph. I was willing to risk arrest for it. Thoughts of Fox Mulder, my ultimate fictional hero, egged me on.
How many government facilities did he break into for evidence of extraterrestrials?
This was just an abandoned farmhouse. That happened to be very near a huge mental hospital.
I needed proof that I had seen this poor beast, killed to become a morbid decoration for a rotting barn.

So we set off up the lane, my heart thumping in my chest.
And that weekend I felt more alive than I have in at least a year.
Adrenaline pumped through my body, my hands clutched at my old 35mm camera, and I was terrified.
The crunching of Nick's flip-flops may as well have been gunshots, they echoed so loudly in my ears.

Every deserted building in the expansive farm housed demented genetic mutants with rifles and pitchforks.
A bird took off as we approached the building with the cow in it and I jumped, my heart pounding harder than I thought possible.
All the while I snapped of crooked photos of the surroundings with shaking hands.
A quiet dread came upon me as I took the last steps toward the cow...and then he was there... propped against farm equipment, howling a silent scream.
I couldn't even focus the camera.

And we ran back to the car, though I tried to walk. I flung myself over the bent metal gate and started my engine.
We lit cigarettes and drove away.

Shamrock Inn

Another sweltering summer

I wish I was the lady in this photo. Submerged in a cool watering hole. But for now I am simply submerged in my own sweat.
Working in a tin shed in the midst of the summer is unbearable. Even though I wear very little to work.

Summer is not my favorite season. For several reasons:

1. I sweat profusely...mainly from my armpits.
2. I am unable to cover my mainly biceps unless I want to pit out every shirt that I own.
3. I have an ever increasing colony of freckles.
4. Heat makes me listless and mopey.
5. I look bad with a tan.

I should just move to the great north and make nice with some arctic foxes. Or Eskimos.
(Eskimo means eater of raw meat)

Oh, Nick and I procured a homestead. We will be moving in on July, 1st. It has three bedrooms and a basement. I think, after a year of living in one room together with our three cats, that we will become afraid of all the space and move all of our belongings into the living room.
Okay I do not really think that.

Music.

http://www.myspace.com/jessebraman

I know how much Haley will love this; The Bastard French is now in the process of fashioning an album. There will be new songs up all week.

I'm excited because no one ( well no musician-type) has appreciated my creepy lyrics and simplistic guitar abilities. The first Mr. Yellow meeting was a terrible failure, Kendra and Rae ran off to the kitchen after five minutes and cooked ramen noodles... I tried to jam with Jake, but he got bored with my suckage and replaced me.
So I gave up on collaboration and made up my simple songs. Eventually I got slightly more proficient at the guitar (I could keep a beat) and my vocal talents improved. (slightly)
Then something amazing happened,
(did anyone else just get a Wild Thornberries flashback?)
I found an enthusiastic band member!

So here we are, and 2010 is the big music year. First the album, then tours, then T-shirts....
I better try not to get ahead of myself.

cages

"I'd rather be lonely. I'd rather be free..."

Right now there is $11,000 sitting in bank accounts that belong to me. It's college money and wedding money.
But how much interest do I have in college or marriage?
I'm sitting in my stupid lingerie outfit with a headache the size of a small impoverished nation, wondering how things worked out this way.
I remember the day I was proposed to, the horror of it. The only thing that kept me from bolting headlong from the car and sprinting down the darkened streets was him. But even that doesn't seem like enough anymore.
And the words, the pledge I made on the dock with shaking legs...
"Sure. I guess."
With vomit churning in my guts, with my throat closing, with my heart hammering frantic in my chest.
It all inspires me to terror. Wedding invitations, dresses, deadlines. I discuss them with the people involved, again longing to escape the room.
"Congratulations" Mozel-fucking toff.
People tell me I have cold feet.
My whole body is numb.
My heart is cold.
What can I do?
Do I walk down an aisle, sign some papers and carry-on?
Do I run away again? To find myself alone and unhappy?
Why is Jenny Lewis singing the same line to me over and over again?
"I'd rather be lonely, I'd rather be free..."

Yes Alec, it's another photo blog.

China Toy

This little toy camera is quite interesting. The Holga shoots 120 mm film, a larger format than the typical 35mm, yet it is constructed from plastic.

The reason I want one (desperately) is the unpredictable and surreal quality of the images it produces. Shooting with a Holga is a risk, the control over the settings that we get with digital cameras isn't there.
But the results?
Oh unexpected, lovely, creepy, flawed, beautiful.

It seems like photographers today are obsessed with the mechanics of photography and not the idea of photography. I am not obsessed with quality. I am obsessed with ideas, with feeling and emotion. I thrive on telling a story with a photo.

So, the Holga is on my wish list.
And if we ever move out of the shed, I'll make a darkroom.

Springtime yet again

Hana Haley: Part Two

http://nylonjuvenile.deviantart.com/

Go look at her gallery! She'll knock your socks off.
Also, she just did some work with Rosaline Crow. She is a model that I find extremely beautiful and hails from our very own Seattle, WA.
Ms. Crow's eyebrows are to die for.

A Dapper Date

I went shopping and spent $21.00 on this polka dotted dress from Target.

And $12.99 on this hat. (Also from Target.)
Interesting tidbit, this hat is constructed solely from paper...

Nick took me to Greater Years Park for our lunch picnic. It was a charming place, but rather small and shabby.

Those eyelashes? I got them from a small vintage shop in Portland. They are from the 60's and came in their original packaging.

I took pictures of Nick too, but he made Down's Syndrome faces and they weren't very palatable.

I feel that I look rather feisty and adventurous in this one.

Goodbye Greater Years Park.
I'll miss you.

Overtime

Today, I am working overtime. I learned many things this week.
A brief list:
1. Dayquil or "Daytime"(the cheap generic version) is best paired with Monster energy drinks.

2. Twelve hours passes very slowly when one is locked in a shed wearing lingerie.
I may add, being peered at by men who are either married to aging wives or who have no hope of being married to any wife.

3. Pulling weeds is not a restful pastime for a person's sole day off.

(However, Dayquil/Monster can be a great resource for pulling weeds on one's sole day off when that unfortunate person is suffering from an insidious disease/headcold.)

4. The sunrise is beautiful. One still hopes not to see it.

5. People/coworkers do not return kindnesses. Just because one sacrifices an entire Saturday to another, does not mean that the recipient of said Saturday will reciprocate favor.
Actually said person will refuse to come in for the paltry three hour shift that they were scheduled. Leaving you, sad overwrought employee to man the god damned place alone.
Don't be kind to these people. It gets you nowhere and they don't even appreciate it.

Yes these lessons and more.
Happy April folks.

Hana Haley

I visited Portland last weekend with my good friends. The reason for the trip was to meet up with some photographers that had contacted me for shoots.
I met Hana Haley, or (http://nylonjuvenile.deviantart.com/) and we collaborated on some awesome stuff.
She is such an inspiration. Her massive collection of cameras was impressive and her artistic vision even more so.
Here are some photos from our shoots:

A random conglomerate of photographs