rumbling

i've been queried and questioned. bad formatting framing banter, and the curiousity is: what's with you and few pictures?

i have decidedly stepped back some from photography, but it's latent, not patent. there are obvious contributing factors--like life. but, more than that, there is a disconnect somewhere. a realization that i had detoured from the path of exploration i was on. Partly attributed to the z2, partly to being an alien in new york. partly because of the shift into everyone just automatically linking photography to ruzz.

i'm not any one thing, and i don't want to be. i like following my curiosity. it doesn't have a preference for a camera, code, paint, words. it goes where it goes, and most days i follow (to my own expense). and while the z2 is a far better camera than my 950, it broke the immediate connection to the result (being digital-slr type) and i have yet to regain my mastery of focal depth and control. in some senses, i wish i still had my 950. it didn't impress the ladies, but i knew it like breathing.

so i've been set back. unable, or unwilling to wrestle the z2 into what i see i end up taking far less emotionally esoteric images and just want to delete it all. which is why i haven't completed my photo essay, or done fuck all with photolush. and, maybe is why i barely pick up the camera.

or maybe, i just don't like the uncertainty as much as i think i do. because, everything is chaos right now, in my mind and life, and some artists (gag) would use the camera to sort it out. me, i just want to kick someone in the balls, or lay under my bed. either or.

i want to record things i will want to recall in the future.
i have some great portraits of some people, people who i no longer have any esteem for and when i see them i hate them, but they are good pictures. what does one do with great images of people they wish they could forget?

it constipates you when you go to push the button.

of course, i'm making this more complicated than it needs to be. thats what i do. you know that, i know it, Saddam damn well knows it.

but thats how it is. i'm not wasting perfectly good finger wiggling energy pushing a button to remember something i would rather forget.

this period, which i spoke to earlier, may be recalled as something like: the unremarkably blah period.

wherein, all my spare energy is spent hunting ghosts, exorcising demons and basically being dragged into the past--rather than creating new anything, memories included.

the kittens are cute though.