exotic fruit

i drink cheap wine,
good beer
and maybe
too much
booze.

i eat rice with
beef
but
hardly ever
with chicken.

I buy a cup
of coffee
once or twice
a day.

i don't eat
much for
breakfast.

and someone
is usually taking
me out for lunch.

dinner:
dinner was
always a treat.

usually, i had some
peanut butter or
chips with salsa
or bean dip.

but more frequently,
it was lactating fruit.

exotic fruit.

kiwis.
kumquats,
mangoes,
papayas.

sweet, sour

ripe for the
taking

but mostly
just
fleshy.

i guess i did

i'm done
for the night,
yes i am

drinking a beer
under the
half shell

of a moon

eating
homemade
potato—salad.

i sigh.

fatigued,
afraid of
any
afterthought.

of some curling
emotion,

a
seed peeling
from under
the gum.

of sticky goo
dried
in globs
along
the floor.

of sleeping
in dribbled
wet spots.

of wanting the night
to stop back there,

two hours turned,

when your hair
fell across my neck
and swept

the loneliness
back into the
street.

prints & pieces

my life: my studio, my darkroom, my prints, my mess.

me, myself & PDN

the latest issue of PDN, which is the pulse of the photography industry has an article on "The NEW Self-Portraiture." All the new, hip young MFA art kids are sportin self-porto's and even some well seasoned vets. The trend is BIG & COLOR. I can't imagine where any of these shutterbugs might be if Thomas Knoll never got out of bed.

Always good to see the power of I, represent'n.

the positive, the negative

polaroid. it's synonymous with the art of photography. it's a love/hate relationship. you'll produce velvety, exquisite one-of-a-kind pieces. you'll also burn your wallet whole, as you wonder how the hell your going to come up with another $400 for 30 sheets of Type 804/809, which you'll only be able to use 15 sheets of because you've become addicted to those creamy smooth la chocolat prints.

chairman of the board

some days you never want to end, others just won't quit and the majority will disappear into the oblivion known as the past. carry a camera with you and you'll have a better chance of remembering those otherwise benign moments, like this one, from back in the day.

Les yeux sont le miroir de l'dme

I can't remember the last time I looked into someone's eyes and been so mesmerized as I was this past weekend. The faces soon fade, fall away from my mind and I'm left with yet another image of me, yearning for you.