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[Sep. 20th, 2009|12:43 am] |
Cheesy album cover photoshoot on Coney Island (9/17/09) |
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[Sep. 10th, 2009|11:12 pm] |
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Grabbing seeds from Elephant leaves. Stacking them in a mix of sand and sticks. Making shapes and animals. Building my own little world. It's sunset. I'm with family, friends, and some strangers who live down the hall. We're on the beach in a cottage. We're covered in gritty salt. It's been a long day already. I tried to wake up early like I do every morning to catch the morning's quality of light. I missed it. I enjoy something similar right now. I really don't want it to be dark. My sand sculpture will be there in the morning, I hope. If it rains it will gain a funny texture spattered with rain drops. You can see where each one fell. The sand is no longer soft. It looks porous. It rains on most days. Then it dries. I watch the cycle knowing it will never stop. Time goes by like it always does only here it's a little more fluid and drips by before I can stop to collect myself within its perfection. |
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[Jul. 29th, 2009|10:59 pm] |
Photographing people on the street is probably the only way to legitimately meet random New Yorkers.
I feel like I've made a bunch of friends. |
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[Jul. 23rd, 2009|12:33 am] |
7.21.09 Back in New York |
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[Jul. 15th, 2009|08:47 pm] |
tough and getting tougher.
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[Jul. 11th, 2009|01:29 pm] |
"The first time I walked out and took a seat on the Met stage, with my pens and my paper balanced on my lap and the sharp pangs of those I had lost and all that I had abandoned reverberating within me, I didn’t know the first thing about drawing the human figure. I didn’t know anything about the dancers, the repertoire, the traditions or the way the chandeliers at The Met rise before every performance. But I did know about trying to make something lasting out of a sad story. It was here, watching the dancers of American Ballet Theatre with an empty page before me, I grew to trust the leap into the unknown."
http://happydays.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/07/10/just-drawn-that-way/ |
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[Jun. 14th, 2009|01:31 am] |
Dream (6.13.09):
I'm not sure where I am when I meet this older (40?) guy in a suit. He invited me and a few friends to his apartment which is up in Harlem. Somehow it's also along Central Park... in the dream Central park extends much further north than it does in real life.
I'm on my way there and I keep seeing the people who were also invited but for some reason we don't travel in a group. I am trying to beat them there for some reason. I run into one of the girls on the corner and we start to travel together even though I'm reluctant. It starts to pour rain so I start running. I'm running along Central Park when I come along a very industrial building. The address tells me that I'm getting close to the guy's house. We enter the building and walk around long corridors. It feels like a very old building, lots of wood paneling, very sterile. I ask a woman where the guy's house is, she points to around the corner.
As we get closer things get very rich. There's a jeweled door and the walls are covered in paintings. The ceilings are very high. The hallway opens up into the outside where it's stopped raining. We're on a huge stretch of land. There's a cherry picker holding up a huge white tent, there are bees flying around the entrance.
The guy appears wearing a suit. I'm uneasy about the whole thing, like he's tricking us into doing something.
Another person shows up. There's 3 of us now. The guy talks and I ask him if he's a beekeeper and he treats me like an idiot. He then gets nice again. He invites us down into a basement area. As I walk down I realize there's an array of dead spiders pinned to the wall just above the railing on the stairs. I make a joke about no one ever touching the rail because of it. The guy laughs.
Once we get down to the bottom the floor is dirt and there's a crude wooden table in the center.
The guy takes out 4 little slips of white paper and a tube of liquid with a dropper on the end.
He tells us he's going to test us. He drips some of the liquid onto a piece of paper and hands it to me. The second it gets close my ears start ringing so bad I can't stand the sound and stumble backward. He says that's the test.
I do something weird with my mouth to avoid/take my mind off the ringing. I clench my teeth as I bring the paper close and my ears are pounding. I keep trying to understand why some liquid that has a pungent smell is somehow creating a horrible sound in my ears.
I can't figure it out.
I wake up. |
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[May. 31st, 2009|01:18 am] |
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How surreal is it going to be to photograph my friend's weddings? |
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michaeldgeorge's journal
