I haven’t been here in a while – things have been incredibly busy. I shot a BDSM play party over the weekend, and had a little photo shoot thing on Sunday. I also met with the guy from the gallery on Saturday. I got the gig.
Pretty good deal…
The guy wants really elaborate and unusual framework for the pieces, but I have already cooked up some cool ideas. At least a few of them are bound to work. The guy actually wants to collaborate with me. He wants to use some of my pictures in this crazy three dimensional stuff that he does.
And, at the party over the weekend, I had a pretty bad ass time. The Mistress who runs the BDSM Temple where I shoot that material had a "play party" for her birthday. There was a 50 dollar cover, but I bartered some BDSM art to one of the male submissives to get him to cover my fare. It was wild. I was walking around a dark room, sipping white wine, watching a row of bent over men (five total, but three in one row), being flogged, whipped, and otherwise abused by numerous Dominatrixes. I don’t really drink these days, but it seemed called for.
"His goal in life was to be an echo
Riding alone, town after town, toll after toll
A fixed bayonet through the great southwest to forget her"
So, I’ve been happy. I guess…
No, I have been. Mostly…
But, not now…
Things took a header earlier in the day over something fairly minor, and I have been a shaky mess. And, there’s no one around to do the necessary hand-holding to make me feel okay, again, so I get to sit here and get worse, because I don’t know how to pull myself out of this stupid spiral. And, I can’t even figure out why I’m stuck in this place.
I should be happy.
Maybe, I am just burnt out. I have been working my ass off, and I haven’t been able to eat much since I was in the hospital last week (my stomach flared early in the week and I wound up getting admitted to the hospital).
"She appears in his dreams
But in his car and in his arms
A dream can mean anything
A cheap sunset on a television set can upset her
But he never could"
I should be happy. This weekend is going to be a good one. I know this. I have shoots pending with various models I have manged to network and arrange service-swaps with (Dommes who are also serious models and want photos for their portfolios or websites). I have one scheduled for the 7th where I will be working with M. Alice (the girl with the crazy claw gloves), and she and I do great work together. Why do I feel this way?
Could be meds… could be exhaustion…
Charlie wonders how I can stand to listen to Elliott Smith songs without wanting heroin (given that I am completely intolerant of some Blind Melon songs about smack, or that remind me of using smack). I don’t know, really. The songs are just so pretty. I couldn’t imagine not listening to them. My favorite Elliott Smith songs are like old music boxes to me. You open one up, and this beautiful little song springs out, and fills the space around you. I used to love watching the little spools turn inside old music boxes. I used to have a small collection of those things. But, not anymore…
I have no idea where they are now.
I’ve lost a lot of things over the years.
Sometimes, Charlie talks to me so abruptly, like he’s edifying an idiot quickly, before they can fuck anything up. He should know better. He knows me, and he knows I am pretty [email protected] smart. Intelligence has never been something I’ve had issues with – judgement is another story, but not because I could not discern the right choice. I would just say "fuck it," and take the more destructive path, because I didn’t care about myself enough to do otherwise. That’s not about intellect.
"Remember to remember me
Standing still in your past
Floating fast like a hummingbird"
Maybe, it’s something I tried to shake off. Something I wanted to just let go, because it’s easier to stick a fork in the hard things, and ignore them. I did not want to confront anything potentially negative or my feelings about such things. Everything is moving way too fast too embrace anything negative. Just have to keep moving…
I’ve had my guard up.
I got scared, recently. I know my life’s a mess, but there are certain things that I just… didn’t think I had to worry about. When you think you know something like that. and you’re wrong… my guard just went up. Like a reflex. It’s been up ever since. So nothing gets close enough to really touch me…
It’s like holding your arm up in a blocking position all the time – no wonder I am so tired. I was exhausting myself in more ways than one.
"His goal in life was to be an echo
The type of sound that floats around and then back down
Like a feather
But in the deep chrome canyons of the loudest Manhattans
No one could hear him
So tired… I just need to let it all go for tonight. The photo editing… the anxiety… the fear… the wall I’ve put it up to protect myself… all of it…
I have to let it go, for now.
If I can…
"So he slept on a mountain
In a sleeping bag underneath the stars
He would lie awake and count them
And the gray fountain spray of the great Milky Way
Would never let him
Die alone" ("Hummingbird," Jeff Tweedy)
I need to rest.