A teaser image from the latest project. I'll get some others up soon.

I've been a lady of few words recently, so I hope, at least, that one of my favorite Lester Bangs passages will suffice.

Regarding Dylan's Blood on the Tracks:

“I only really wanted to play this record whenever I had a fight with someone I was falling in love with. I concluded that any record whose principal utility lay in such an emotional twilight zone was at worst an instrument of self-abuse, at best innocuous as a crying towel and certainly was not going to make me a better person or teach me anything about women, myself or anything else but how painfully confused Bob Dylan seemed to be. Which was simply not enough.”

Model: Jody Gayle
Stylist: Lindsey Tervo-Clemmens
Make-up: Rachael Ryan
Hair: Ali Pace

Back whenever this shoot took place, I chucked these images aside and I'm really not sure why. Well, I do know why, but let's just leave it. It's always funny when you re-visit a project and you see things that didn't initially appear to you. Sometimes, it's better that you don't see them in the beginning... for whatever reason, I love these images now.

Model: Jody Gayle
Stylist: Lindsey Tervo-Clemmens
Make-up: Rachael Ryan
Hair: Ali Pace

Model: Jody Gayle
Stylist: Lindsey Tervo-Clemmens
Make-up: Rachael Ryan
Hair: Ali Pace

Ok, so I'm really bad at taking long breaks. Or maybe, it's just because too many funny things happen all too frequently.

Take the above photo for example... in all of its low-res glory. You will most likely never see a cellphone cam post again, but consider the subject. No idea? Well, let's start from the beginning.

Realizing that we are both leaving town for NYC in a matter of days, my dear friend Melissa and I decide that we are going to be as Pittsburgh as we possibly can be, prior to our departure. So with a day-of phone call to Buccos pal, Bryan Minniti, our first stop is PNC Park to catch one final baseball game, one final pierogi race and one final... concert??

Oh yesss folks, without knowing it, we out Pittsburghed ourselves! Guess who was playing a post-game show on the field? None other than... ready??

LYNYRD SKYNYRD.

Regardless of the fact that most of the people had no idea that a majority of the original members of the band are deceased, PNC Park was SOLD OUT. Granted, REO Speedwagon or Styx would have been better, but uh, they already played last season.

We must have been asked 70 times if we were there to see the concert or the game, to which Melissa would reply "the game" and I would naturally say, "the pierogi race." Either way, we received looks of disbelief. How could we not be there to see faux Skynyrd on a stage smaller than a homecoming parade float?

That's what you gotta love about this place though... Pittsburgh was lovin' every minute of it.

On a final note, I have an uncanny knack for consistently missing the pierogi races... every ... time... I go. It's basically ended in heartbreak and tears every time, but on the bright side, the Pirates won, I really enjoyed the game, and my newest solution to breaking this bad pierogi streak is to be a pierogi.

Anything's possible kiddies, dream big or go home.

Photo: Skynyrd's stage set-up

This little blog is taking more than a few days pause in prep for the move back to NYC - looks like the falafel won after all. I do certainly apologize for the lack of a photograph, but hope that Mr. Bukowski's words are a fair substitute, if not preferable.


the area of pause
charles bukowski


you have to have it or the walls will close
in.
you have to give everything up, throw it
away, everything away.
you have to look at what you look at
or think what you think
or do what you do
or
don't do
without considering personal
advantage
without accepting guidance.

people are worn away with
striving,
they hide in common
habits.
their concerns are herd
concerns.

few have the ability to stare
at an old shoe for
ten minutes
or to think of odd things
like who invented the
doorknob?

they become unalive
because they are unable to
pause
undo themselves
unkink
unsee
unlearn
roll clear.

listen to their untrue
laughter, then
walk
away.

The best picture of Los Angeles I have ever seen/will ever see. One that I'm actually jealous I didn't snap myself.

This is the cover of Matt Nathanson's newest album, "Some Mad Hope," which, might I add, is doing astonishingly well.

I say that with as much praise as I possibly can because this dude hit the road harder and longer than anyone I've ever met, reaping very little from his life-consuming travels. I remember sitting with him at a dive pizza place in Green Tree, Pa., when I was about 19 years old, talking about the future of music over a sun-dried tomato pizza.

I admit at the time I wasn't sure what would become of this musician, because I wasn't sure how much longer he would last. He was funny, charming, talented, but I had seen so many of those types already and watched each of them slowly, but surely, toss in the towel. Well, either that or I just wanted to punch them in the face because they whined so much.

"LISTEN! STOP BE A PUNK (BLANK) (BLANK)! YOU'RE GOING TO PLAY THIS VENUE ON A TUESDAY NIGHT TO 5 PEOPLE AND YOU'RE GONNA LIKE IT OR I'M (BLANK)'N DONE!"

Ehh heh hehhhh yeeahh... well I never said that exactly... or did I?

Anyway, regardless of what you think of his music, if you are in this line of work, you can take a few lessons in dedication and devotion from him. Heck, even if you aren't on stage, this can be a bitch of a business to be in. I came home just the other day, buried my head in a pillow, and wanted to just disappear...

But what I actually did instead of disappearing was sort through my album collection, each CD physically in my hands, and remembered why I do these crazy things. I popped in "Consolers of the Lonely," took my hands away from my face, and rocked out.

In the end, it's really funny how hidden this track of life can be. I mean, my friends, and even significant others, really haven't the faintest idea, from age 17 to now, of all that's happened.

The crazy part is that it's only been 6 years and it's felt like an eternity. A perfectly imperfect eternity indeed, but time is certainly relative. If that much happens in 6 years, you better believe I'm pumped as heck about the future. Uncertainties are the game. Making sure you walk away from every day with a story worthy of print is the challenge.

I never talked to Matt again after splitting that pie, but if I had to guess, I should say that that was part of his thought process as well. When so much satiates such a short time, there is no need to fear anything that is to come. If you love it and have the strength to stick with it, it will serve you well in a variety of forms, but perhaps not the one you expected.

You bail? You are just one of the many, many, many, many who bailed before you.

Dude's right though... definitely takes some mad hope.

Let's talk about a few things here:

1. Have you ever had a place that literally, every time you walk in, you find someone new and interesting to talk to? I must say, I'm not a regular at many places for the obvious reasons, but both Dish and the Shadow Lounge consistently offer grand stories and epic personalities. Now, these establishments are almost night and day, but strangely enough, can have very similar vibes, just by the types of people they attract... which is still night and day, but of equal caliber.

Haha, I bring so many bands/people into Dish that by now I should be earning commission, whereas with the Lounge, I feel like I should be shelling out more just for the sheer fact that it exists.

2. Unlike the trend that it is to hate the words "moist" and "panties," I squirm when the words "potential" and "connection" are used in an emotional context.

A) If something has potential within a sentimental context, there's more than 1 reason why it isn't working. Example: "I love this project, because it just has so much potential."

B) If you have to tell someone how you feel by claiming there is a connection, please read the dictionary or even better, step outside, whether it takes 30 seconds out the back door or 3 months in Russia, and come back with a spark of originality. Example: "After all this time, isn't it strange how we have such a connection?"

Cue eyebrow raise.

3. Sometimes detours are just what you need. Quite literally.

The Liberty Tunnels were closed last night on my way home from the lounge and really, it was pretty late and all I wanted to do was get to my bed. Perhaps on another day, Paul and Art's prior 20-minute serenade of lyrical genius would have been enough, but it just wasn't working out that way. So, naturally, if you can't go through the mountain, ya gotta go over the mountain. Over the mountain, of course requires a drive past the overlooks, which allow for arguably the best views of the Burgh's skyline.

So I parked, walked out to the overlook, and just looked and listened for awhile. City lights, the breeze, illumination of all three rivers, the 50 different sounds of a train... Normally all of these overlooks are filled with families and couples, but it was late on a Sunday night and I was the only soul out there. In retrospect, it's probably a good thing because I was leaning over the railing like Rose was leaning over the bow of the Titanic. Endings weren't on my mind, but the universal prospect of beginning and the sheer wonder that this whole city was built by generations of hands. My thought process was then onto the progression and regression of man in general, but we'll save that one for a rainy day.

Pittsburgh takes a lot of crap, mostly out of ignorance, but there is so much to this city. I'm not going to generalize and say that everyone who grew up here has a strong, steady work ethic or that everyone knows what family and friendships mean or that they value every second of life, but I would like to. I would like to, but I would be lying.

I was planning on a "4.", but I think that's enough out of me. I will just say, that this city taught me a hell of a lot.


Photo: T-Funk, Shadow Lounge Sage/Transcendent bassist for no less than 4830423 bands.

So wait, what happens in the music world when there is a lull in a big production?

Um well, let's see... most likely you take some time to practice your golf swing, rocketing balls into the nearest lake, courtesy of the venue's finest drivers, irons and wedges.

Or perhaps you take a hap-hazard joyride on a golf cart, or maybe, if you're feeling really spunky, you take part in the rager that Tommy Lee is throwing in his dressing room. After he's blown out all the electricity backstage with his ridiculous sound system and after he's quit his relentless, yet rather melodically psychotic drumming on the dry wall, you might be lucky enough to go "bus surfing" with him and not get arrested on the spot... but really that's just a dream... only a few superstars get to do that.

There you have it, some typical down time.

Wait, what was that? I didn't hear you...

HA! This is as real a job as they come baby.

(Photo: Bilec and her rad shoes on our make-shift teeing ground, gearing up to cream a ball into the lake during some Motley Crue lag time)