Worms

I had no idea doing this...

would open this...

or make me feel like singing this...

Nobody loves me, everybody hates me,

Think I'll go and eat worms;

So I get to class tonight, ready to run some prints. I discover that my negatives from the shrine are not in my folder and suddenly remember that I left them sitting on my desk at home. I'm left with some artsy nude shots, or the Passion Play. Well, that made it a no-brainer, and I ran the print above.

But here's the thing (*cue the background music*)

Last week in class I was telling Professor Cutie Pants about the shrine (where it was, etc...) and he says, "You know where you need to go? The Passion Play property." A voice in the dark (we were rolling film in the darkroom) says, " I did. " Now I originally thought to myself, shoot. But you know the rest of the story. I went for the hell of it, but I didn't intend on turning any of the shots in, since the girl with the voice in the dark had already been there the week prior.

Then I saw the shot. It was perfect in every way. The contrast is dead on. The composition works. The lighting was flawless. It was the one. And I had to turn it in, given that my other options were an hour away. (Okay, end the flashback sequence soundtrack)

She saw me running my print tonight and had a FIT! She called me out immediately, telling me that I stoled her location. Hello? Stole it? No, not really... but yes, I knew she had been there first. And I told her that I left my other negatives at home, and that I felt kind of bad. And she proceeds to tell me I should feel worse than kind of bad (keep in mind she's making a scene in front of the entire class.) I asked her if more than one person had ever shot a picture of the Grand Canyon, and she said that wasn't the point.

So for the rest of the night, as I walked in and out of the darkroom, I walked into conversations anong several of my classmates revolving around my transgression. I should have asked first. I'm a copy cat. I'm rude. I'm stuck up. I'm a bitch. I'm unoriginal. I think I'm the shit. You name it, I'm it.

And after about two hours of this, I quietly packed up my stuff and left early.
I'm still turning it in, because it is beautiful, and I'm really proud of it.

But I feel like I'm eating the worms spilling out of the can I opened.

This is Funky, and that is all.

That's All for Now

I had to take yesterday off. It's not that I didn't have anything to write about... heaven knows there's always drama or excitement in my life. I just didn't have the urge to type out anything. I'm still feeling that way in some regards. I think I'm ready to leave the pro blogging behind me now, and instead just write when the mood strikes.

So yeah - it's not striking much right now either. But I'll still be around from time to time, rest assured.

Thanks for the input on my photos. I'm still undecided, and I go back to the darkroom tomorrow night. I guess I'll run five or six of my favorites, size them up, and fine tune the one with the most potential. It's one thing to tweak with Photoshop, it's another thing altogether do trust chemicals and dead trees to do the trick.

This is Funky, and that is all for now.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Life Behind The Lens - Adventures in Infrared

There she is -- The Project from Hell, in its completion. I call it The Church.


Both the tree AND the door were shot in Key West.


My latest assignment is shooting infrared film. We were given two assignments: Nudes in Nature, and Civilizations Lost. Since my life has been all about the camera lately, I'll just share a few of my favorite shots and leave it at that.


Just so you know, that's real lens flare, not the Photoshopped kind!



Well, this next one deserves a story. I'm sure many of you have heard of the Black Hills Passion Play. The guy who started it also started one here in Florida so he could continue his roll as Jesus when the weather got too cold up north. It lasted a few years, but shut down awhile back. It reopened in 2000, but Hurricane Charlie shut it down again. It's been an abandoned property since then. As you can see, time has not been kind, but man was the film kind to the property!

One more in color to give you an idea of the state of abandonment.


Next are some of my shots from St. Anne's Shrine. Here's the Wikipedia story behind the shrine.

Ste Anne des Lacs

The story of St. Anne's Shrine goes like this: A man from Canada came down to Florida with his very sick son. His son had been diagnosed as terminally ill. While traveling in Florida, they came upon the little lake at what is now St. Anne's. They swam and camped there and the boy's condition improved, and he was miraculously cured. His cure was attributed to the healing waters, and so the man single-handedly built a shrine to St. Anne, a popular Canadian saint associated with water, in an oak hammock next to the lake. The shrine was de-sanctified by the Diocese of St. Augustine in the 1960's. The Catholic church eventually demolished most of the church, leaving only the altar.

OH YEAH... ONE MORE THING: I CANNOT decide which of these infrared shots should be turned in for a grade. I'd love your input on that!

This is Funky, and that is all.

Too Busy

Too busy.
Need a break.
See you next week.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Picasso's Cup, The Grape Gatsy, and a Saint Named Anne

I can remember the day when weekends meant cleaning and yard work -- doing all the things that you don't have time to do during the work week. Seeing as how I just flew through the house getting it picked up so the maids can clean tomorrow (I know, it just sounds weird), I can honestly say that I don't remember what a mundane weekend is like. I guess I have my adventurous husband to thank for that! So here's my weekend recap!

Friday night my daughter wanted to go run around the new mall/community they have erected on the southside of town. It's really such a neat place -- it's almost like getting away to a small town where everything is open late... plus it's patrolled by cops, so it's a "safe" place (safe from her, that is.) So hubs and I decided to hang out there, rather than drop her off, drive back home, then turn around to pick her up later. So we had dinner, then stumbled upon a wine and cigar bar where we spent an hour or so drinking and giggling and making fun of Geraldo Rivera (who was bitching on the big screen tv). Then we wandered over to the ice cream parlor for a naughty treat before heading to Picasso's Cup, where we painting some creations which shall be picked up in about ten days.

I goofed off all day Saturday until it was time to get ready for The Grape Gatsby. This is the 20's era costume party I mentioned last week. The Tampa Theater is a historic institution that frequently holds fund raisers to help maintain the building. I wish I'd thought to take pics of the theater because it's really impressive. Next time, right? Anyhow, we got all dressed up and headed out. I went as a flapper and LoveBug was a gansta! We sampled some great wine and several area restaurants had set up food booths where we got to taste some awesome food. Of course, The Great Gatsby was playing on the screen, but most people were wandering around drinking, eating and networking. We ended the evening by going to the Hard Rock Casino all dressed up crazy and dropped some cash in the machines.



Sunday I had to start my next photo project (yes, I know I haven't finished the hell one yet) so I loaded up some film and we headed out to capture some images. The assignment is actually in two parts. Using infrared film we have to portray the following: Nudes in Nature (still looking for my model on THAT one) and Civilizations Lost. We found an old shrine in the middle of nowhere that was really amazing. Of course I blew the whole roll there, and then took out my digital and snapped some more images to share. These are all pre-production, raw images, but I had to show you how cool this place was!



And that was my crazy and fun-filled weekend! I'm definitely recharged and ready to tackle my dark room time tomorrow!

** Blogger is being bitchy about pictures, so I'm going to stop trying to upload them. If you click on my Flickr banner on the side of the page, you can see more Saint Anne Shrine shots.



This is Funky, and that is all.

Not.Even.Close

It wasn't even in the ballpark. It didn't come close to being everything I'd hope it would be.
If you want to hear me bitching, click the link.

If not, here's the synopsis. I spent almost four hours in the dark room and still was unable to create anything I could turn in. This shit is HARD! I have to go back Monday and try again. I guess I need to do a re-shoot and see if there's anything I can find that I can work with. At least I'll have 8 hours on Monday to try to produce something half-way decent.

Tonight, I'm just depressed tonight.

No sympathy comments may be left below. Instead, go out and have yourself a fabulous weekend. I'm going to a 20's era costume party on Saturday. Pictures and stories to follow.

Vacation Recap Three -- Costa Maya and the Horse With No Name

Like most women I know, there's a little girl living inside me who never got a pony for Christmas. So when my husband and I were deciding on an excursion for our stop in Costa Maya, I conjured up my best "the kids will LOVE this" line and convinced him to sign us up for horse back riding. Yes, this manipulation was woven before the Branch of Doom in Cozumel AND the Unfortunate Breaking Incident in Belize.

Costa Maya is a relatively new port in Mexico, and had I known that right there on the port were several bars and a few pools, I might have opted for a nice, relaxing day with my friends Dos Equis and Corona. Instead, I hopped on a bus and went beyond Costa Maya to a horse ranch.

I looked so damned cute this day. I was wearing these little Ranger Bob shorts with a white tank top. I had a good tan, with a bit of a sunburn on my left shoulder (damn if I never learned how to properly face the sun). I was wearing a cute little cowgirl-fashionista straw hat. This should be the best day. My foot was only slightly sore from the zip lining fiasco, and I was getting ready to mount me a horse in Mexico! (Save the pun, LoveBug, save the pun.)

The Real Live Mexican Cowboy Tour Guide Dude told us to separate into two groups: experienced riders, and dumb asses (hey, I speak some Spanish, okay... I know what he was saying in his brain.) I chose the dumbass group and drug my husband and children into the line with me. I know they're trail horses that have been lobotomized, but I figured better safe than sorry. God, that makes me laugh just thinking about.

So we get our horses assigned to us. We are told to love on them, but let them know we're in charge. We're told they all have no names, and we can call them whatever we want. I wrapped my arms around my horse's neck and whispered, "You are Bob, the mightiest trail horse in all of Mexico." Then we were off.

The horses walked nose to ass for miles and miles through the Mexican wilderness. Occassionally one would stop to eat a bush. Okay, occassionally Bob would stop to eat a bush. So I would firmly kick him, and he would break into a little trot to catch up with the ass in front of him. I loved it when Bob pretended to run like a real horse. It was exhilerating.

About a mile from the end of the trail we reached a clearing. The Real Live Mexican Cowboy Tour Guide Dude told us we could again seperate into two groups: those who wanted their horses to walk out the rest of the trail, and those who wanted to run their horses to the end. Well, I had already bonded with Bob, and I knew he wanted to run, so I joined the line of dumb asses again. When I got there, I noticed my dumb ass kids had also joined the line. I also noticed that all of the "experienced" riders had opted to stay with the walkers. No, apparantly I cannot take a hint. Apparantly being eaten by a branch and being pummelled by a treehouse were not a strong enough hint either.

So we took off. I gave Bob a gentle kick and said, "Run, Bob, run! You're free! No, seriously, Bob. Run. Bob, this is embarrassing. The other trail horses are way the hell up there. Come on, you stupid shit, run!" But Bob barely broke a trot. Then I remembered the Real Live Mexican Cowboy Tour Guide Dude told us we could take our lead rope and whip the horse on each side of the neck if he was being stubborn. I hated to whip Bob, but he was obviously not understanding my particular dialect of Spanish. So I gave him a gentle thwack thwack, coupled with a gentle kick, kick, and that mother fucker took off running.

I'm screaming "Hell yes!" to the wind as it whips through my hair. All my troubles are leaving me behind. I pass my husband and catch up to my step-daughter, and Bob's still running. "Whoa" I say to Bob to slow him down. I pull back on his reigns. Bob keeps running. I notice I'm a little floppy in the saddle. "Whoa!" I yell to Bob as I reach for the reigns which are slipping through my hands. Bob keeps running.

My husband said it looked something like this. My left leg went up in the air. Then my right. Then both of them. Bob keeps running.

As I'm flying through the Mexican sky, heading towards the Mexican dirt, I think to myself, "Hell yes, this is going to hurt." I hear my step-daughter scream my name from far away.

My son says it went something like this. "Somebody fell off their horse!" he hears. He doesn't even look around. He just says, "Shit. It's my mom." At least someone in my family was taking notes.

I'm lying face down in the Mexican dirt. I'm thinking that perhaps lying here is not a bad idea. I sound like that stupid newscaster chick who fell off the grape-squishing platform and got the wind knocked out of her. I hear someone say, "Are you supposed to get off your horse?" I hear my husband say, "I don't know, but I damned sure am." I wait with a mouthful of dirt for my knight in khaki shorts to come to my rescue.

The Real Live Mexican Cowboy Tour Guide Dude and My Knight in Khaki Shorts reach me at the same time. They roll me over and I say, "I'm fine" but it sounds like "NGH-ugh nugh nnt." I'm on my feet. I don't look at my arm. Or my leg. The Real Live Mexican Cowboy Tour Guide Dude says, "Why didn't you pull the reigns back! I told you to stop if it was too fast!" Now, I know some Spanish, but I don't know how to say, "Fuck, Dude, I was too busy falling off the horse to take notes on why I fell off the horse," so I just say, "I tried." He says "That's why we call all our horses 'Gringo Killer', Senora." They help me onto my husband's horse so I can ride the rest of the trail. I pass Bob on the way, snacking on a bush.

So I got a free Corona out of the deal. They used it as an oral analgesic while they attended to the cuts and scrapes I put up here a few months back. I thought that was the worst of it, but it would be three weeks before my ass stopped hurting. Apparantly the larger part of me broke the fall.

This is Funky, and that is all.

"Wow" Moments

Yep, I had 'em. Three of 'em.

First, House threw me a bone... a little Hugh Laurie insiders-only joke. Did you catch it when she said, "You'd better come up with a cunning plan..."? If anyone remembers Hugh Laurie's characters from the Black Adder, you'll remember the "cunning plan" line. Thanks, House.

Second, can you BELIEVE Nip/Tuck is taking on Scientology? Oh MAN is the shit gonna hit the Tech.

Finally, I ran to Best Buy earlier today to pick up Timberlake's new CD for CadiBug. Lo and behold, John Mayer's Continuum was $9.99, so Mama got her John on. I expected to love it, but I didn't expect this:

Belief
by John Mayer

Is there anyone who ever remembers
changing their mind from the paint on a sign?
Is there anyone who really recalls
ever breaking rank at all
for something someone yelled real loud one time?
Oh, everyone believes
in how they think it oughta be
Oh, everyone believes
and they're not going easily

Belief is a beautiful armor
and makes for the heaviest sword
Like punching underwater
you never can hit who you're trying for
Some need the exhibition
and some have to know they tried
It's the chemical weapon
for the war that's raging on inside
Oh, everyone believes
From emptiness to everything
Oh, everyone believes
and no one's going quietly

We're never gonna win the world
We're never gonna stop the war
We're never gonna beat this
if belief is what we're fighting for

Is there anyone who can remember
ever surrender with their life on the line?

What puts a hundred thousand children in the sand?
Belief can, belief can
What puts a folded flag inside his mother's hand?
belief can, belief can.

Man, am I glad I left him on the list.


This is Funky, and that is all.

Hijacked "Holiday"

I really admire those who were able to find a way to put their 9/11 memories into words. I'm still forming my thoughts, and it's almost 9/12.

There's the obligatory...
Where was I? I was in my home in Indiana and my best friend Jodi called me and told me to turn on the news. Then another friend called and told me to turn on the news. I don't remember anything more about that day other than I really wanted to get my kids out of school and back home to me.

There's the, observed it this way...
Well, you'd think seeing as I work in a fucking courthouse that there would have been at LEAST a moment of silence, but nooooooooooooooooooo... just a few posters in a corner of the lobby next to the broken ATM machine. There was narry a mention of the day. And believe me, at my job, what I wouldn't GIVE for a moment of silence now and then.

Then there's the, how do you feel today?
Honestly, this is the tricky one. I feel like all politicians (not just the side I disagree with) have hijacked this day and turned it into a politcal football. I tried to listen to the radio this morning, but it turned into a campaign speech in ten minutes or less. You know, I feel like this; regardless of who you want to blame, who orchestrated this and why, etcetera... people... real people with kids and dogs and dates and vacations fucking died just living the day like we did... only in another place. And it makes me so angry that I too have succumbed to the 9/11 mentality of Us versus Them. So mostly, I feel angry that I have forgotten how I felt in 2001.

And finally... thanks beyond words to those heroes... and the little heroes left to carry on without them.



This is Funky, and that is all.

A Weekend Well Had

Before I dive into this glass of wine and a rousing game of Cubis II, I'm just going to reflect on my weekend.

Friday -- awesome in that I got to do nothing. No one needed a ride anywhere. I came home, I stayed home. It was so freaking rare that I savored every second. I know it a few years they'll all be driving themselves around (and then I'll have new things to worry about), but right now it's all go go go.

Saturday I took CadiBug to the mall for a few hours. We had a blast -- wait, I should say, CadiBug took me to the mall. She has her permit now, so it's a constant "Can I drive? Can I drive?" It's the Permit Lament on a regular basis. However, we had fun together doing girl things. Later that night I got all dressy and shit because LoveBug took me to Tampa to see Rent. I've been dying dying to see it for so long, and I've avoided knowing ANYTHING about it so that I would be in awe the first time I saw it. OMG. I'm saying -- I couldn't talk for about five minutes after it was over. Everytime I tried to put into words what that show made me feel, I started crying.

Sunday was crazy day -- errands and upkeep and bullshit galore. My son, he bought a "grill." And he wants me to like it. And I can't because he looks like a dumbass and sounds like a moron. But oh how I love that boy, so I do try to let him make his own stupid mistakes.

And that was my weekend, in a condensed nutshell. How was yours?

This is Funky, and that is all.

By George, I Think She's Got It!

It would take a miracle to describe what "it" is, but I got it.

I tossed and turned last night, partly from the rat's piss wine, and partly from the stress of my project.

I obsessed over it all the way to work.
I worked.
I obsessed over it all the way home.

How to make it work.
How.
How.
How.

And my mind spun and warbled and wandered.

Then it hit me.
OMG did it hit me.
Hard.

And this is going to kick such ass, ass will never be the same again.

Why of course I'll scan it for you. Next weekend.

Ta-ta ;)

This is Funky, and that is all.

Sauvignon Blanc Rant

Yeah, just let me rant for a minute. Maybe four.

I just got home from photography class. Urgh. I mean, how hard is this stupid project if everyone else is already producing some pretty impressive pieces of work?!? My shit isn't working, even unimpressively.

And I'm just pissed, you know? I'm pissed because I'm a total psycho fucking Type A personality that has to not only master a task, but kick everyone else in the ass while doing it.

And I'm not kicking anyone's ass but my own.

And my professor, Dave, he says, "There will be nights like this. Don't let it get to you." And his dog is dying, so I feel bad and I say, "Yeah." And then I come home and pour a glass of wine.

But my husband finished off the red I had out, and I'm stuck with this shitty white that was in the fridge. And it tastes kind of like nail polish remover, but I don't care because I'm so pissy about class.

When will I find
That thing
I can do
And not care in the least
If I do it better than them?

This is Funky, and that is all.

Room for Squares, Not Bimbos

"So, according to the wire, it's over," my husband said as I answered his phone call.

"Yeah, I know! I have four or five e-mails I read just before you called. I guess I really made an impression on you guys with my John Mayer rant, huh?"

"I think," he replied, "it was the noose hanging from our bedroom ceiling that alarmed me the most."

That's the quote from my husband's camp. Here's the quote from John's:


"A source from Mayer's camp told Us Weekly that the relationship 'was a 2 her camp spun into an 11.' Mayer has supposedly lost a lot of respect for his brief fling and 'now he will stay away from her. He thinks it's desperate. An attempt for her to stay in the spotlight."

I don't know what I love best about this: (a) That it's over, (b) this doctored photo of Us Weekly announcing the news,

or (c) that I was right about John Mayer all along. I KNEW he was too soulful to dip in that shallow pool.

Now the question is, do I replace Angelina with Julian?


She, who pussy whipped Brad Pitt, wed in a t-shirt covered in her man's blood, and says her dad needs therapy?

(another shameless excuse to post Julian McMahon's naked ass on my blog)

Or he, who hails from Australia, shows his ass unabashedly, and is going to play a character exploring his sexuality on this season's Nip/Tuck?

Decisions, decisions. Not. Welcome to my Top Three, Julian.





This is Funky, and that is all.

Changes in Latitudes

There is absolutely nothing trite about that title. There is really something to the Keys. I don't know what it is about hitting Key Largo, but the feeling intensifies as each mile marker gets closer and closer to zero. I really did leave the world behind me. Just look at our faces and you'll see we all did. That is a genuine smile on each face.



I love the pace of Key West. There's a sign somewhere that says, "What's your hurry? You're already here." That sums it up perfectly. You just move at will, rest at will, laugh and drink and love at will. Rules don't have to be enforced with the kids because they don't exist. You just become the core of who you really are.


We're all back home now, sadly. And even though I know I'll be getting up to go to work tomorrow, it feels like someone else will be doing that. Right now I'm still in a Key West frame of mind. I hope it stays with us all for as long as it can.


This is Funky, and that is all.