All good things should fall apart.

It's hard to keep your head above water in a flood.

I've been Swayed by the Cool.

I've been Swayed by the Cool.
March, 2005

Feeling like a sidekick lately. Just kind of sidelined, around for a good story, a bonus item to someone else's day. It's really not all that horrible of a place to be. I have fun at it, I'm not really a center-of-attention kind of girl. I'd rather be a little quiet, fill a bit of empty space. It's a lot of responsibility to be a headliner. While Cat 5 years ago had no problem being larger than life, current-Cat is a bit more mild mannered. I'm just as adventurous, just as reckless, but probably more internalized.

But every so often, when the principles aren't available to go eat curry or sit on a happy-hour patio with me, I think it might be nice to be a little more than that.

(The wiki article on sidekicks is pretty great. I also cannot stop listening to the Gaslight Anthem.)

A dozen or so rhythms.

It's official. For the rest of the month, all I care about is punk rock. Sorry work, sorry friendships, sorry pictures, you're all on the back burner.

Rio Grande.

Missing home. Fall's the best back there. The chile's fresh, the air is cold and Zozobra's burning away the anxieties of an entire state. I'll be back there soon, I'm sure. Just wish it was closer. It's a completely different world out here sometimes. This river would be laughed at in Oklahoma, the mighty Rio Grande is nothing.

Completely unrelated side note, I have no idea how to turn an internet-crush into a real-life-crush. I'm just way too awkward.

Who'd of thought?

Don't take no nerve when you got nothing to guard.

Echo!
Echo.
Echo?
...

Fifteen Minutes.

This is my favorite picture of myself. Taken in late 2004 at UNM's premier pizzeria right about the time I felt like everything in my life was getting back on track after some personal trauma that, at the time, wrecked me, but now that I think about it, was barely a drop in a bucket. The picture's all forehead and awkward, but I like it. Obviously, I was happy.

A kid I went to high school with killed himself a few weeks before this was taken. I wasn't particularly close with him but he was the sort of guy I thought had it all figured out. He hung out with everyone, his dad let everyone party at his house and he was super talented. It all got messed up, the way that small towns tend to destroy only the best and brightest, and he put a gun in his mouth outside a bar. I talked to a girl I went to high school with a few days later and she said probably the smartest thing I've ever heard anyone say about suicide: "I swear, if people would wait for like, fifteen minutes, everything can change."

Current headspace is by definition bizarre these days. I’ve been hit with a few things I wasn’t quite ready for. If I wasn’t already feeling so bizarre, they wouldn’t bother me as much, but as I am, it makes things even more cloudy. I’ve an aunt in the hospital with a brain aneurism and an ex-boyfriend getting married. Wow. When you put those two in the same sentence, it certainly gives you some perspective. It’s like throwing rocks into a tornado, still hurts, but the rocks really aren’t what do the damage.

I know I’m where I need to be. And I really am a nice girl. I probably just need fifteen minutes.

PS. No, I'm not going off the deep end. Come on, I'm fully aware it's really all just #whitegirlproblems. The weather in Norman right now is too glorious to be grumpy. Patio furniture is my favorite right now.

Water Shed.

An Oklahoman told me once that the biggest sky he's ever seen is in Oklahoma. I absolutely agree. But as far as blue sky goes, New Mexico might have it beat. No photoshopping, by the way.

Plastic.

Ten years ago, all I cared about was punk rock and whether boys thought I was cute. It's amazing the things that never change.

Balancing Act.

 
Me and Denver have always had a tricky relationship. It's like a passive aggressive friendship with someone you've known for a long time. They're always sort of around, but you've got to keep them at a distance because before you know it, you're losing your phone in bars and snowed in for days. I really don't particularly like the place. I could think of 20 other big cities I'd rather go to. But, I keep going back since it's in close proximity to where I live and I've always got friends who make homes there. Sometimes, I'll find things (mostly beers) I like, but I never want to stay long.

This is from the 16th Street area, in front of one of the hotels. Just like all other big city downtowns, they have to mix art with industry. I did really like these ladies and they seemed to blend in well.

I wish I had more to say, really I do. Can't quite figure out my brain since I've gotten back from vacation. Sort of feels like I'm in a permanent state of waiting. I really should be doing and not waiting, but I'm not quite sure what to do. If that makes any sense at all...

Juice.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 


Zion is a place name often used as a synonym for Jerusalem. The word is first found in Samuel II, 5:7 dating to c.630-540 BCE. It commonly referred to a specific mountain near Jerusalem (Mount Zion), on which stood a Jebusite fortress of the same name that was conquered by David and was named the City of David. The term came to designate the area of Jerusalem where the fortress stood, and later became a metonym for Solomon's Temple in Jerusalem, the city of Jerusalem and generally, the World to Come.

In the Latter Day Saint movement, originating in the United States in the 1830s, Zion refers to a specific location to which members of the millennial church are to be gathered together to live. A Temple is to be built unto the Lord for a sacred work to be performed and for the Lord Jesus Christ to reign when he returns at the Second Coming. Until the gathering of Israel, when the second coming of Jesus Christ. The Latter Day Saints also believe Zion to be their stakes and wards where they gather weekly to renew vows and covenants made to God the Father and to the Son of God.

Me and Brigham Young don't really get along. But I'll give the guy a little credit. If I was going to pick a place to hang out until the second-coming, I think it would be Utah as well. 

Hey, you're alright.

When I last saw the ocean a few months ago, the sun was setting. Light was fading fast. Normally, my photographic brain would be upset, losing precious sunlight on such majesty. But not this time. I was more excited about the people I was with and the place I was. Fears only seem small by the ocean, so says one of my favorite bands. It really is true. But your fears are as big as you make them, I think. My fears weren't very big then. So, I just got to take a few deep breaths and enjoy how insignificant my white girl problems really were. And still are.

LIke I said, it really is all working out. It'll get right, really it will.

Highway 270

Someone asked me the other day if I liked living in Oklahoma. Without really even thinking, I said I loved it. Most of the time, my answer is "Yes, it's growing on me" or "It's a big change" but this time, I loved it. It might have been my surroundings, I was in the middle of Robber's Cave State Park but it really didn't even seem like a question.

It's all working out.

Little too much.

Let me tell you how bad I was this Easter. Not only did I fall off the blogging wagon, I ate beef for the first time in two months. Trust me, it wasn't worth the arguement that would have transpired if I tried to explain to my Texas family that I wasn't eating beef. (It's not really founded in anything, I just sort have decided I didn't like it very much anyway.)

My brain's just sort of been all over the place. Even at work, I really can't focus. I get everything done, but I feel like I can only work on something for five minutes at a time, like I need 15 projects to be happening all at once or I feel unproductive. It's hard enough getting through typing this.

I'll be back soon. I'm sure this can be one of the many projects I'm needing to keep my brain busy these days. Have no fear. I can tell you this; change is in the air. It's tornado season and Oklahoma finally got some rain. Everyone seems to be making big decisions lately and while I think most of mine came early (in January), I'm really excited to see what this season has for me.


Until then, have a fat sandwich:

DFW.

DFW
February 21, 2009

I think airports would be one of those things that future civilations would look at and go, "What the hell was that?" Airports and freeway interchanges. No place better makes that point than Dallas Fort Worth International.

Dallas is a crazy-wealthy community. Everything is bigger in Texas, even its airports. Dallas wants to do nothing more than showcase its wealth. The airport is no exception. If they can upgrade that place in any way, they'll do it. Wnat another terminal? Good. Because I was thinking we needed one. Wanna build a toll rode through it because it's so massive? Good idea, doctor!

I had my D80 out for most of my trip back to New Jersey for my grandfather's funeral to take pictures from the plane and those are all lovely. But this ended up being one of my favorites. We got into DFW right when the sun was about to set. It made the light in this little waiting area absolutely enchanting.

Just a thought, an airport would probably be a decent place to hang out during the zombie apocolypse.

Lunchbox.

Lunchbox
May 19, 2009

The first few weeks I lived in Oklahoma were completely surreal. Nothing made sense. I got lost everywhere I went, I got drunk every night, I just was not myself. It was like I had my heart ripped out of my chest and I was 500 miles away from it. This isn't because Oklahoma was terrible. Oklahoma wasn't terrible. I was terrible and I would have been terrible no matter where I was. It took me a while to actually come-to and realize where I was and what had happened. And when I did, I realized I'd blown pretty much all of my savings at bars. Go figure.

Edna's took a good chunk of that because lunchboxes are delicious and $4 a piece. When you order them two at a time, chug them, love them, get more, buy your friends some... I've had a couple three-figure bar tabs at that place. But I'm pretty sure that's an Oklahoma rite of passage. I was making a new home and I didn't even realize it.

This is taken on Edna's patio. The dude is Murf, who I think was kinda sorta at that same place when I was. Me, him and Chelsey were a power-drinking ensemble for a while. The entire photo is just the reflection on the table, which was wet from all the lunchboxes that were once sitting there. Once again, let's stick the camera on the table and see what happens.

(Taken with a Nikon S610. No photoshopping. It's a random shot, but I'm kinda proud of it.)

Urban Yeti.

Urban Yeti
September 26, 2003

I ask only this of you, is there any place better to take pictures of people than at a Waffle House? I challenge you to find a superior setting. Every arguement that you present me, I will shoot down because it will inferior to the awesome power of grits and cheesy eggs.

(Taken with a Sony DSC-P32, when it was young and efficent. No Photoshopping. The reflection's pretty great.)

Dylan Star Does Not Want to Come Inside.

Dylan Star Does Not Want to Come Inside
March 12, 2006

Happy 4-20. Let's talk about Dylan Star.

If you know anything about Dylan, it's that he doesn't do well indoors. He wants to be outside at all times. That's probably why him and Kenneth are such good friends. When I took this photo, Dylan was living with his aunt, who was a upper level management person for MCI and had a GIANT, BEAUTIFUL house right on the bay in Annapolis. She had even had a private dock. I remember sitting on one of her luxurious couches and Dylan yelling at me though a window, "Why are you in there? I don't wanna be in there. Come out here!" That's the essence of that guy.

This is one of my favorite portraits ever. Dylan was driving his giant truck into Washington DC, windows down, the stereo was so loud I couldn't hear and his matted hair was blowing in the wind. It's one of those times when you actually feel like you're accurately captured a moment. It's a rare thing for me, but I like that feeling. Maybe you do get a bit of someone's soul when you take their picture (DEEP. Run for the hills!).

(Taken with the Sony DSC-P32. Image is grayscaled. That camera's capacity for accurately capturing light was completely gone by that point.)

No Smoking.

No Smoking
November 15, 2005

This is from one of the few times I took my camera out for school. The one photography class I took left a really bad taste in my mouth. I feel like I actually did learn a lot, but I really don't respond well to criticism and judgement, I take everything way too personal. Art studio students are a special breed, a breed that I can never be. You've got to have some thick skin to listen to people tear through your creativity for hours on end.

This was actually for a project for my human rights class, probably the class I worked the hardest in my entire college career. This lady was my professor. I loved that class. Our final project had to be about a human rights issue that affected a certain region and I picked probably the least popular region, the United States. My project was about our health care system, which was the project I wanted to do since the first day of class. I learned a whole lot and believe me when I tell you that the US has the greatest health care system in the world. But no one can afford it.

We had to provide some kind of visual aid with our project, so I ran around a few hospitals in the Albuquerque area and took pictures. My teacher and everyone else in my group loved it, which I don't understand. It almost feels like cheating. "So you're telling me I get to walk around, take pictures and you want to give me college credit with that? AND there's no critical analysis of the photos? Alright. Sounds good." About 2 hours of my life turned into an A.

I did spend some time photoshopping. I wanted to make them look as gritty and isolated as possible. This is actually from a construction site at UNMH, they were building the new children's hospital (above my beloved tunnels). Once again, it's almost cheating, but really, this is how your HMO feels about you.

(Taken with the Sony DSC-P32. It was screaming its siren song at me by that point. I photoshopped it years ago... contrast is overcooked and there's a film grain filter on there. The rest, you've got me. Original image.)

Behind the Scenes.

Behind the Scenes
October 18, 2005

If burlesque was good for anything, it was good for about 4 gigs worth of images that make me feel awesome about myself. Sometimes, it still makes me shake my head that once upon a time, being on stage with a small amount of clothing was something I was capable of doing. But most of the time, I'm really proud of myself and I hope that I'll be able to do it again one of these days.

I don't wear makeup. Makeup gives me severe anxiety. Up until probably my sophomore year of high school, so did my hair. So, maybe in another ten years, I'll be able to apply my own foundation without having a breakdown (that might be a metaphor...). One of the best things about burlesque is that it attracts lots of people who are really good at doing makeup! And they want to do yours! I remember a show when our makeup team all took mushrooms before the show and our makeup/hair all got progressively more interesting as the night went on. Beehives for everyone by the final number!

This was taken after the weirdest burlesque event to-date. It was at the Desert Sands Inn on San Mateo and Central (the motel used in No Country for Old Men). That neighborhood is the absolute best place to walk around almost-naked in Albuquerque. Camel cigarettes rented out the whole place for a private party. Ron Jeremy was the guest of honor and a Linkin Park side project called Bucket of Weenies played. As if that wasn't random enough, I ran into the ex-boyfriend who had dismissed me only weeks before and I locked my keys in my car. Kenneth had to rescue me from the ghetto at 2:00 in the morning. We'd only been living together for a few weeks, he was excited.

That hair is not mine, it's a super-long neon blue extension. I love how the image quality makes it look almost trashy, like it's taken from the backstage of a seedy strip club. It's almost a hangover in a photo. This is me trying to take a photo of my and taking one of my neck. That's cool. I like this one better.

(Taken with a Sony DSC-P32. Freaking believe it. Color balance is 'shopped.)