There is a house...

There is an empty house on a road in Osteen, Florida.
This happened....

27 Dec 2013

27 Dec 2013

27 Dec 2013

27 Dec 2013

27 Dec 2013

maybe

i do not like this word

...maybe...

very indecisive

...one day i will find the right words, and they will be simple...

-j.kerouac

Northern Transplant : Southern Exile

Sun slants over a late day sky
The warm breeze
Unsuitable
For my uncovered winter skin

I am lost and
In this man made
Landscape where my shadow 
Rails against the synthetic wilds

I make no sense here 
I will go 
Just as soon
As I am done...

I aspire...

This is for Giacometti 

Creator of 'the standing man'

He, 

Being an existential artist,

Lived provisionally

Never permanent 

Always passing through

...indeed...

Nowheresville

starbucks - semeron blvd, orlando, fl - 1706, 30 Oct 2013

It is interesting to be sitting in a Starbucks far from where I first learned what a Starbucks was and what it was for and yet it still smells, look and feels the same.
Burnt, a certain manufactured ease and pretentious.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. I suppose it's comforting knowing that I can get a passion iced tea, shaken, with a few pumps of raspberry and a few Madeline cookies in Germany, England, New York, Chicago, LA, Grand Rapids...Lake Mary, Florida (don't ask), but even that gets old, I want something new. Different.
The only thing that changes about places like these is the scenery outside the plate glass windows. Right now, I'm rocking palm trees and lots of traffic outside mine.
If I ignored the windows, though, I could be sitting in a Starbucks anywhere in the world.
When I am visiting another city, I try to ignore the place all together and look for something out of the way, off the beaten path, preferably with free WiFi, where there is almost always sure to be some much better offerings. I'm usually right.

OH!

Why am I sitting in Starbucks right now? This is Orlando, Florida. Everything here is manufactured. There are no better offerings here, which is sad. Except, maybe, Panera, but that's even sadder because it's like a little sister desperate to like her big sister. The little pockets of individuality and creativity are run over like so much roadkill and left to fester on the hot southern asphalt as an example to anyone who does not fit the mold...whatever that means...all for the sake of tourism.
Sunshine State indeed. I hate this place. I hate myself in this place. It's killing me. I am making an escape before they tie me a palm tree while a giant anthropomorphic mouse god forces the KoolAid down my throat.

Ugh

It is 2:55am and I am watching "Some Kind of Wonderful" reliving a part of my childhood. I remember identifying with this movie on some primal level. I am trying to figure out why...I think it's the girl is in love with guy but guy is in love with another girl who hardly knows he exists and who is with someone else thing...it all works out in the end.

Perhaps I am looking at my childhood from a higher point in my life and shaking my head at the time I wasted on people who did not waste their time on me.

Even now...if someone is unavailable  in any way then I am sure to be attracted to him. Partly because the men who are available at my age are so desperate and weird that if that's all that's left then I don't mind being alone.

We all know they don't get together in the end, and if they do, it won't last.

I'm 43 years old and I have never been in love. Not even once for a moment. I have a friend who will crucify me for being a self-indulgent, ungrateful person. "You have your family." 

True as that all may be, still...

It Ain't Nothin' But a Number...

I accept the gray hairs on my head.

I accept the freckles and spots that have shown up during my aging process.

I can dig, and actually understand, the way father pontificates and the sometimes stoic silence of my mom.

I hate loud music that I cannot grasp. 

And I refer to my classmates as "Children" "Kids" "Beasties"

BUT I looked over at my night stand and wondered when my Gra'ma came to town!

that weird feeling in the back of my head

I woke up this morning feeling as if I'd spent the entire day at my Aunt Mary's house. Almost as if I'd sprinted through history.
I don't remember what the dream was...so don't ask me., but it was a nostalgic feeling all the same.
I been feeling more and more out of step. Out of place and time.
There has to be a name for that.
.
.
.
I can't find it.

No Class

I guess it's been quite some time since I posted on this blog, which is hard to believe because I have a lot to say. I think I have a lot to say and then, MEH.
I'll get back to that.
Right now I am sitting at home, in my favorite chair, next to my bed, thinking about school. Should I stay or should I go? I say as much out loud and my ONLY response? My mom's dog looks at me with those eyes that say: "Oh you're going to school. What else're you going to do?"
She's right, of course, my mom's dog. I'm going to school today.
After all, this is FLORIDA, what else is there to do?
=P

"Whole in the Sky" August 2013

I am going to be submitting more work for an art show here in Orlando, Florida (O_O). This is one of the photos I am putting up for consideration. I hope it gets accepted.

A Word...

A Message from the Universe

Hoodies Up

JTW

Mani

Cass

Young Flip

My life as I know it...

5:57am - I wake up and my entire body is stretched out along my headboard, barely under the covers. Why, you ask?
Well, I looked down and my mother's 14lb shi'tzu is paws up dead center of my bed. She's cute.
I love the little dog, bad teeth and all, but she needs to start sleeping with her owner!

Working at it

The following 2 pictures are of Belinda, a local Gospel singer with an amazing voice and a very pretty face that I know I will be working with sometime in the near future, I hope. Again, this is me playing with PS Actions and learning to retouch photographs...I'm just having fun.

Belinda - 2012

Belinda - 2012

Better pt. 2

Along the same lines, I did a shoot with this lovely lady, Tina Corrado, many years ago. The shoot was perfect in every way. Tina was a dream to work with. Completely self-deprecating, patient, charming and quite simply one of the most beautiful women I have ever had the pleasure to know. Now I am able to run this through my own sort of post production and I have come up with these startling results.

Tinamarie - 2009-ish

Better

In April of 2012, I had the pleasure of doing a shoot for Accessories by Halo (www.accessoriesbyhalo.com). Natalie W., the owner, was also the model, wonderful person.
I am learning, this year about how not to beat up my images in Adobe Photoshop and here is the result. Still learning, but I am totally getting there.

Accessories provided by Halo Accessories and worn by the owner of Accessories by Halo, Natalie W.

Random nuggets from people I love...

I have maybe 3 friends who's emails I crave and cherish, I mean I honestly go to my inbox several times a day hoping they have sent me bits of their thoughts, and then I save them and go back to them later for a laugh.     
Here is one such email, sent to me this morning:

Vernee Watson pic from medialunch.com

"I opened my eyes this morning and the second thought after, 'Shit, I'm still here,' was 'How many times has Vernee Watson's hilarious character appeared on The Big Bang Theory?'  I guessed three.  I was close.  I have to go flush out my eyes."

I love my friends.

Comfort

A moment of comfort for a lifetime

One of Many

CJ Lide - 6 May 2013, Orlando, Florida

Reflections March 2013

Like a Horse and Carriage

The Marriage Settlement - William Hogarth

The idea of an arranged marriage has always intrigued me. No disrespect to those who have had their marriages arranged by their parents, an older relative or a matchmaker, it's just not a part of my particular culture.
I am sure, however, my parents wish that it was. Then they "wouldn't have to worry about me". Still, the logistics of being put together with a stranger by a third party and then the pressure of having that type of relationship succeed holds a certain fascination with me. I blame the romance novels I used to devour in secret when I was a kid. You know the ones with the sweaty heaving women pressed up against the hard. well-defined bodies of men with long, flowing and shiny hair. I know you know, but don't want to say.
(I digress.)
How uncomfortable is it for the marrying pair?!

Then the reasons for such unions vary. Economic, union of families, religion, the list is endless. Like in Hogarth's painting above. "The Marriage Settlement" one in a six-part series that pokes fun at 18th-century Upper Society, where the young people are being thrust upon each other, as arranged by their families, under a long list of terms and conditions with no consideration of the distaste the two obviously have for each other. The series is really a moralistic satire that depicts the disaster that comes from this ill-considered arrangement where money is involved.
To be sure, not all arranged marriages fail. Just like there is the possibility of failure, there a "growing up together" aspect to it that is quite sweet...
I imagine.

black bird

a black bird
on a lonely wire
communing
with the late day sun

Floating Days

It is spring-break this week and I am at a loss for things to do.
I mean, I could do homework: math, some sketching or digital media.
I could dome some personal stuff: breakdown a shelf, clean out my closet, set up to sew a shirt for the Florida summer.
None of those, I am afraid. Instead what I am doing is pining over what kind of post I want to do for this blog. I figure write the damn thing, move on to something more productive like strip my bed and wash the sheets.
Actually, I did do some research into design schools for me to attend after graduation next year. 3 in Canada. and 3 in the US. Hmmm.

She Writes...

From time to time I will post papers that I have written during my academic career along with the grade, if I remember what it is. This one was for English II, we had to analyze a poem or song. I chose "The Pillow" by UB40 and I remember that I did not get an A. In fact, i got far below an A. Something like a B-. I was upset.

Skank

An Analysis of “The Pillow” By UB40

            “The Pillow”, written by the band UB40 as a collective, is representative of the band’s massive and exceptional talent that goes far beyond the reggae-fied covers of popular tunes familiar to mainstream audiences. The song is a track from their album Geffery Morgan, released in October of 1984. The only song to see any measure of success from that album’s release was “If it Happens Again” which made it to number 9 in the music charts, unlike “The Pillow” which never got any significant air time.

            “The Pillow” is one in a long line of extremely competent, complex and original songs in the band’s discography. From the first few lines, the listener is completely aware of what the song is about. “A smile for every passing car / And when it stops door ajar / She shrugs and whispers que sera”. The song is a series of scenes from the life of a prostitute who can only find solace in “the beauty of an empty bed”.

            UB40 came together in the late 1970’s in working class Birmingham, England. “The Pillow” was most likely inspired by the working women of the red light area called Balsall Heath which was in full swing when UB40 hit the music scene.  Most of their early work is reflective of their backgrounds as aimless young men who found that they had a tremendous talent for music and, when they got themselves together, went on to become one of the most successful reggae bands in the world.

            The rhythm of “The Pillow” obviously corresponds to a beat traditionally associated with reggae. It has a slower tempo with the emphasis on the downbeat using a combination of guitar, heavy bass, piano and the drums, which provide a syncopated beat common to the genre. In addition, there is the use of a tenor saxophone that provides a plaintive moan which suggests a seriousness in the overall tone of the song, while the singer, Ali Campbell, often manages to give the lyrics a whimsical, childlike feel. The effect is rather sad and creepy.

The pattern of octave and quatrain alternately repeats 3 times (O, Q, O, Q, O, Q) which gives the lyrics a visual structure. When sung the words have an obvious rhythm, and when spoken the rhythm remains. The syllabic breakdown per line in most of the stanzas follow an 88898889 pattern in the octave and in the quatrain it follows a 7887 pattern. Where the pattern diverges in some of the lines is probably for the sake of making a word fit inside of the music. The first three lines in each octave form a rhyming group and the fifth, sixth and seventh lines form another rhyming group. The fourth and eighth lines end with the same two words that echo the title song:  “the pillow”.

Consider the image of a pillow: soft, fluffy. The object itself alludes to the comfort she takes when she is faced with the harsh realities of her daily life on the streets. She is constantly turning her head, her thoughts, her face to the pillow so those realities are less real in the moments where she most needs the comfort a pillow brings.

All of the images in “The Pillow” are at once familiar and striking “her face is etched with memories / she finds no joy amidst the sleaze / it’s hard when you’ve been paid to please”. The image of a prostitute almost is always a woman beaten by life. The only option left to her in order to survive is to sell the only thing she owns. It is not an easy life where dreams can come true. She has been beaten up and arrested and made fun of, but she just continues on the best way she knows how. “She’s swapped her dreams of shining knights / for pushers, bars and money fights”, she probably had dreams like any little girl would, but whatever reason brought her to the life she was leading in this song, she had to leave those dreams behind. She only lets herself think about them dreams when she is alone in her empty bed.

This hard existence, more often than not, leads to a life of drugs which is not always recreational. In “The Pillow” “it made her feel like going on”, the drugs numbed her, they had become necessary to get her through the night. Being addicted to the drugs that kept her going was just an occupational hazard. This addiction, perhaps had finally robbed her of what little looks she had left, which affected her prospects each night which, in turn, affected her drug usage. “And now it hurts when it’s all gone”, she probably felt a hopelessness that she could not overcome.

The end of “The Pillow” brings the listener to the most arresting scene in the song. “She takes a blade and breaks her skin / sweet life force flows from within / the white clouds in her head grow dim / and she turns her head to the pillow”. The image of a “pale beauty in a crimson bed” suggests, finally, that the singer was perhaps familiar with this woman, or women like her, and was familiar with the scene. There is no doubt that “The Pillow” is one of the heaviest songs to showcase the human theatre. 

How did I get here?

In 2011 I was laid off from a job I'd had for 13 years. No idea what to do next, I moved to Florida to be with my family while my parents were still young enough to be cool and have their wits about them, for the most part, and see my sister married, go to school and that's it.
So, I came down here, bought a really good used car, got an apartment, moved out of said apartment and in with my folks, to save some cash...and sanity...started school in Digital Media w/ a Graphic Design specialization and here I am.
Why Graphic Design? I want to stay in broadcasting, but I wanted to change my skill set. School is weird, but the classes are interesting.
More on everything later. I promise.