Having worked on Cirque du Soleil's Wintuk, my wonderful, wonderful production friends with both Cirque and Madison Square Garden allowed me to shoot the company's winter show.

My favorite part of the show?

Simply the fact that you must put yourself in the mindframe of a child in order for this to make any sense whatsoever. Not following? Well, let's take into consideration that this is a show geared toward children. It's not Alegria, O or Dralion. It's an adventure story about a little dude who wants to find some snow.

Simple? Simple. Now, this kid needs to go through some pretty complicated things to get to aforementioned snow. You know, singing street lamps, ice giants, ridiculously large birds, bendy hula-hoop ice princesses, tumbling tribesman and a pair of ambiguously homosexual robbers. I think somewhere in there, adults get lost:

"Seems like a lot of work for some frozen precipitation."
"What do you mean, Honey?"
"Battling ice giants for some snow?"
"Wait, what ice giants?"
"Those big lantern-like rock things with the strobes?"
"Those were ice giants?"
"I guess."

When you see Wintuk, you have to watch it as you would watch The Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular. You have to appreciate Wintuk's characters as you would the Rockettes - for what they are, rather than for what they're not. In the Rockette's case, if you try to place the creme de la creme of entertainment in the 1930s in 2008, you end up wondering why you just spent 200 bucks per seat to see a bunch of skinny girls with pretty teeth and long legs tap and kick their little hearts out to basically the same routines for 90 minutes... with no intermission.

Watching the Rockettes, however, as a historic look back to what once was a fabulously grand spectacle is a totally different experience. I've seen it twice and done it both ways. First time? Bored out of my mind. Second time? Had a ball. It's as simple as a tiny change in perspective. You still might not be ok with the price on the ticket, but you can now pleasantly cross it off your "To Do" list. Or if you're me, cross off the "change attitude on Rockettes" line.

Wintuk is the same. Through the eyes of a kid, the show is cool. Through the eyes of an adult, it's a confusing labrynth of storyline holes, physical tricks and special effects. If adults can avoid being adults through the duration of the show, therein should lie the entertainment value. I guess my point is to flick off your "you" switch every once in awhile and have the will to suspend your disbelief in entertainment, or like I do every day, for better or for worse. That's the trick to living a cinematic reality, I think. Life is just as much about perspectives and illusions as theater is, be it acting like a kid to enjoy Wintuk, or hopping back to 1937 to catch the hottest show in the town, oorrrr being a popstar every Saturday night, live in New York City.

If someone tries to tell you that you can't live your life that way, just say, "Try it sometime," faintly smile and hope for the best. For them and for you.

I also fully recognize that anyone who may be reading this at any point probably thinks I'm nuts, but all I have to say is, "Try it sometime."

And umm, now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go look for some snow.

I would be inclined to say that there are very few people who would appreciate the above as much as I do, with the exception of the fact that I took this picture last year, on a ship, off an incredibly remote Thai island after baking over 2000 Christmas cookies for all of us who couldn't spend the holiday with family. Either it really is an international classic, or somebody up there really loves me.

White Christmas (1954), one of my favorite films ever, with Thai subtitles? What are the odds? Furthermore, what are the odds that someone had it on while we loaded the speed boats with equipment for the day's shoot?

This scene plays out as follows:

Betty (Rosemary Clooney): Look, Mr. Wallace, before you go any further, I must tell you - you were brought here tonight under false pretenses. Benny didn't write the letter, my sister did.

Bob (Bing Crosby): Judy?

Betty: Yeah, she figured you'd never come to see us if we asked you and you might if Benny did. It's as simple as that.

Bob: How do you like that, even little Judy there's got an angle goin', huh?

Betty: She didn't mean anything by it, she just-

Bob: You don't have to apologize, everybody's got an angle.

Betty: That's a pretty cynical point of view...

Bob: Oh come, come now Ms. Haynes. Surely you knew that everybody's got a little larceny operating in them, didn't you know that?

Betty: Well, just for the record, I want you to know that my sister and I don't play angles.

Bob: Well, if that letter wasn't an angle, I don't know what it was.

Betty: I don't like your inferences.

Bob: I've got no squawks, no beefs - the kid played a percentage, it worked and we're here. Let's not make a whole big mish mosh out of it... All I'm saying is when you've been around show business for as long as I have, you just get used to people working angles, that's all.

Betty: Mr. Wallace, since the chance of our seeing each other again is extremely remote, I don't think it's important to go on arguing.

Bob: I'll drink to that!

Betty: Be my guest.


Not to ruin the film or anything, but they obviously fall in love. I adore cinema.

Story to come.

Photo: Jamie Foxx jammin' out at Mansion on W. 28th on 12/16/08.

Rolling Stone!!

Sometimes last minute assignments are the best assignments- now if I can only get this in print...

Photo: Bruce Springsteen and fam.

Once upon a time, I went to Mexico and woke up next to Viggo Mortensen.

Ok, so that's not totally true, but I did go to Mexico and meet a Viggo look-a-like who owned a very nice amber shop. That was in my LOTR-loving days, which I am proud to admit, are still running strong. In case you were wondering, a piece of amber was indeed purchased.

Ohhhh Dreamboat Central. Darling... where is your beard, cloak, sword and irresistible perseverance/strength/courage/million other traits that don't actually exist in most men?

Anyhow, tonight I learned that it's really hard to gawk at the film love-of-your-life when you are shooting next to a bunch of dudes all over the age of 35, buuuttt I did anyway. They all just laughed at me. I was ok with it.

What did I have to lose? I had my new hat on and I was feelin' spiffy despite the crummy weather.

Sad to say, no marriage proposals this time, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Photo: New York Premiere of Good, Mortensen's newest film.

So as you may have noticed, this image doesn't have my obnoxious watermark on it. Reason, you ask? This is the first image in a long time that I've taken off-assignment. It's been weird to not shoot things that I love (I mean not that it wasn't exciting to shoot God, er I mean Oprah) and I don't quite know what's been amiss lately. As some of you may also have noticed, this blog has been boorrrrrrrrinng or rather, as Jen Bilec described it with a subtle downward motion of her hand, "downhill."

Well Jen, I couldn't agree more. So now that I'm sure I lost half of my readership, we're going to get this little cupcake back on the plate.

Believe it or not, I've never shot the tree in Rockefeller Center, so I figured, by accident really (a big thank you Bruce Springsteen, his wife and his daughter), that this image would be a festive way to renew. Even in the crappiest of moments, you can't help but be joyous to be where you are when you look at that tree. Not that it's any sort of beacon of hope or something of similar dramatic nature, but it's just a twinkling reminder that things aren't so bad. Not that it's the tree alone, but that it is an icon of a season in New York City.

A symbol of the grandeur, friends, stories, competition and history, reminding you that there is no other place on Earth that could deliver such an energy - if you choose to feel it.

And dudes, I am totally feelin' that vibe.

I really like this picture. Not a bad image for being part of the media circus.

Image: Susan Taylor, editor of Essence, and Oprah Winfrey on 12/2/08.

Have you ever seen Neil Sedaka and Katie Couric mambo?

No?

Oh, well you probably weren't at NYC's Juror Appreciation Day then.

I have two favorite parts about this picture... who can spot them? Ok fine, I'll just tell you:

1. the reporter's (left) old school fedora with his press badge in it and
2. Nathan Lane's (right) face.

Despite all of his fabulous roles, I just wanted him to sing "Springtime for Hitler" or "Hakuna Matata." Really, either would have been fine.

Although he didn't sing, he was still a riot. Naturally, he did a little monologue that had the courthouse rolling on the ground with laughter. Oh man, so darn funny. I had the privilege of sitting at his feet the entire time, catching each expression this fellow made.

Who knew NYC's Juror Appreciation Day was going to be so fun!

Who wants to come with me next year??

Katie Couric is so smiley! This woman was made for the Today Show.

William Beckett, front man for The Academy Is... photographed at the Roseland Ballroom on 11.19.08.

The Roseland is another NYC venue definitely worth checking out, just f.y.i.

Ahh... so there IS a shred of masculinity tucked away in the KEDs, long hair, *NSYNC shirt, absurd powerpop lyrics and jeans tighter than my wet suit. Good to know.

Travis Clark, front man for We the Kings.

It's 5:30 a.m.

I can't sleep.

Productivity? Sure.

I enjoy this image.

I wish Fab would shave.

Photo: Rodrigo Amarante, Fabrizzio Moretti (also the drummer for the Strokes) and Binki Shapiro in their newest band/project, Little Joy.

Little Joy's myspace

Jesse Malin opening for Butch Walker on November 13, 2008 at the Blender.

I was so excited to cover this show for Getty because I hadn't seen Mr. Malin since I left NYC this summer. It's always nice to see a friend do what they love, while you do what you love.

Jesse Malin's myspace

I heart this dude.

Jesse is just .... ahh I don't really have words, but this should sum it up: The first time I met Jesse Malin we ended up sitting in one of his East Village bars, Niagara to be exact, talking about music until 7 in the morning. The conversation, of course, stemmed into other things like old films and various histories, but every word he said matched what his eyes said, which was, "I love this conversation." He wasn't talking to talk and I wasn't talking to talk. I was loving it too.

He is such a beautiful, complex character that I find conversations with him to be irresistible. So if you happen to stumble into Manhattan and need a place to hang, I'd highly recommend paying a visit to "the Mayor of the East Village" at one of his fine establishments: Bowery Electric, Niagara or The Pizza Shop.

Coverage of Butch Walker at the Blender on November 13, 2008 for Getty Images.

Butch Walker's myspace

Butch Walker.

This fellow has some pretty decent tunes. I don't care for a handful of them, but the ones that got me thinking, really got me thinking. I can't recall the words or the title, but one of them had this sap's eyes a bit watery.

Cue laughterrrr.... now.

Coverage of Butch Walker at the Blender on November 13, 2008 for Getty Images.

Edie Falco at the 10th Anniversary Reunion of the Warren Leight play that launched her acting career, Side Man.

Her role as Carmela Soprano on the HBO series The Sopranos, has lead to numerous awards in the acting field including three Emmy Awards, two Golden Globe Awards, two SAG Awards, AFI's Award for Female Television Actor of the Year and the Television Critics Association Award for Individual Achievement in Drama.

Wow. That was some boring writing, but for as cool as Edie Falco is, Opening Act is even cooler. I am such a sucker for bringing in and sustaining arts programs in public schools.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would stumble upon Perez Hilton while waiting for Gerard Butler to show up at a Halloween party. I really don't know what kind of turn my life has taken, but it's pretty darn humorous.

Perez also used these images on his, um, quaint little blog: http://perezhilton.com/?m=20081101

Coverage of the Antilia's preview of Carnival for Getty on 10/30/08, featuring Wyclef Jean, Shaggy, Mad Stuntman, KES and Rupee.

I sound so cheesy, but I couldn't believe how much fun I was having at this event. Shaggy was hysterical and in killer shoes, Wyclef was super nice... so much so that I kinda have a crush on him and the Caribbean food, music and atmosphere was just what I needed on a chilly October night.

When I'm more awake, I'll write some more about this crazy shindig.

All I wanted to do was wear one of these things... well that and get up and dance with Wyclef... is one (or both) of those things weird?

Oh man... Shaggy (far right) wassss tooasssted and outrageously funny. I loved every second of it.

Clearly, the hosts (left) found him as amusing as I did.

CMJ Music Festival Coverage in NYC, October 21-25, 2008 for Getty Images.

Photo: Coheed and Cambria

CMJ Music Festival coverage in NYC.

Photo: Coheed and Cambria

P.S. - Terminal 5 is a sweet venue. I'd probably even go see New Kids on the Block there... oh wait... they're playing a sold out show at Madison Square Garden.

Uhhh, excuse me? WHO is buying those tickets???

CMJ Music Festival coverage in NYC.

Photo: Ebony Bones

CMJ Music Festival coverage in NYC.

Photo: George Clinton

I love the fluidity of this material - texture and color.

Photo: A piece from Csilla Somogyia's preview collection at last night's joint fashion show with fellow designers Malan Breton and Jacqueline Quinn.

Arriving in New York City in a torrential downpour is always great. Particularly when you have to double-park to unload your crap into an apartment building with no elevator. Let's see... rain... check... (haha, rain check) possible parking ticket... check... absurdly fast sprints up the stairs... check... broken antique mirror .... annnnd check. Nice work, Alli... moron.

Break a leg?

Haha, despite my idiocy with the mirror, I think I've made a fine start at warding off seven years of bad luck. And if I haven't? Well, there still will be brunch on both Saturday and Sunday for the next seven years, so who cares.

Photo: Simple, semi-static shot of a wig mannequin, taken on one of my frequent strolls from Midtown to Gramercy.

All right, so we went the train-tracks route... whatever. Don't judge.

I mean, nothing like a 4:30 a.m. shoot to get your blood flowing. I'm pretty sure none of us slept for the better part 25 hours. Why 4:30 you ask? To get that look on your subject's face.

I really, really like this image. The peace on his face, the loose cigarette, the tight grip. Really, all it's missing is an on-coming train, but perhaps it's the waiting that makes his face calm and his grip strong.


In this photo: T-Funk, styled by the lovely Ms. Lindsey Tervo-Clemmens.

Building character with no faces.

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)

So I lied, I did have a shoot this week.

Everyone knows I love mail and what's better than getting a large package of things I can photograph? Not much, but for the record, large sums of money, music and world peace stuffed in an envelope are good too.

My dear friend Ms. Kelly McStay, didn't send money, music or world peace, but something that's still pretty cool. A bunch of bracelets to be photographed for her non-profit, Until There's A Cure.

To paraphrase the information in the above link, "Until There's A Cure® Foundation is a nonprofit organization that raises funds and awareness about HIV/AIDS through sale of The Bracelet.

Until There’s A Cure is committed to:

• Funding innovative programs which promote AIDS awareness and prevention education for our generation of young Americans.
• Providing financial support for care and services for those living with AIDS.
• Actively supporting AIDS vaccine development which offers the best hope for reducing the spread of HIV."

Since it was introduced in 1994, the Bracelet has been showcased at The Body Shop, Kenneth Cole, Ben Bridge Jewelers, and Virgin Megastores and worn by dozens of celebrities including Jessica Alba, Kevin Bacon, Tony Hawk and Kerri Walsh. So far, over one million bracelets have been sold.

I'll be posting another series pretty soon, but if you'd like to purchase any of the bracelets, please visit: http://until.org/order.shtml

Please also check out Kell's blog at http://www.untiltheresacure.blogspot.com for news and more information.

Kell, feel free to add anything else.

Gesundheit!

After being prompted by my late night viewing of The Beach, (oh heyyy Leo), I took a nice dive into my external hard drive, only to stumble upon this little gem of a picture.

Having no shoots slated for this week and not feeling compelled to write about much, I decided it was a good time to post something totally irrelevant to my present work.

After "working" on the lovely Thai island of Koh Lao Ya all day, my production manager and I were naturally goofing around until the speed boats returned to take us back to the ship. And really, there's not much of a story to this photo, but I do need to ask you one question: have you had your boss try to pick your nose?

Haha, and that being said, Yuri is one of my most favorite story-tellers/pains in the ass probably ever. If he's as funny in his primary and secondary tongues (Russian and Hebrew) as he is in English, think how funny he could possibly be! If I spoke Russian, I certainly don't think I could ever eat meals with him, but if I had to choose, I'd prefer laughing to eating... believe it or not.

Despite what it looks like, I did not sneeze and he did not hold it for me... but that's why it's funny! This picture about sums up the positives of my stint in Asia. Three, no no, I'll go with six straight months of absurdities and silliness. Kinda right up my alley after all.

Oh, Pittsburgh. How I love thee, but cannot stay.

For at least some period in your life, comfort zones are best put to use when put out of use.

The trick to this, of course, is that the farther away you get from that existence, from the people and places you know, the closer you are to the things that really matter when you come back. Journeys become not so much about old perspectives in the new place, but about new perspectives in the old place.

Take this scenario, for example. You are standing alone on the bow of a ship in the middle of the South China Sea with the most brilliant lightning storm to the West and the most pristine starry sky to the East. You look to your right and you flashback to many an August night on the back porch, waiting for the Perseids to peak with your dad. To your left, the awe of light effortlessly illuminating a dark horizon brings you to past conversations solely about the grandeur of the universe with those whom you have let into your heart. Neither party is present, but then again, had you stayed, you would never have witnessed what is before you now.

Time passes and you eventually come to telling those people about that moment. The way they look back at you when you say, "and then I thought of you..." will tell you everything you ever wanted to know about true love. Love of your family, love of your friends and, uh, that other kind of love.

So, go away on your own for awhile, try it out and see how you feel about your life when you come back home.

Oh, and let me know how it goes.

PS - The Perseids peaked on 8/12 this year, in case you missed them.

"If I didn't have my films as an outlet for all the different sides of me, I would probably be locked up."

"I wish I could find people who just would fight me, who would break through to me and hold me down and scream their life into my face."

"We come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly."

"I'm getting a wrinkle above my eyebrow, because I just can't stop lifting it and I love that, you know..."


I could have easily pulIed about 55 more quotes (this obviously isn't my photography), but as I meet new people every day, I convince myself more and more that I don't know if there's anyone else on the face of the planet who is more stunning, strong, well-spoken, poised and accomplished than the woman pictured above. A balancing act of flares and personalities that tie together into one beautiful conundrum that, for whatever reason, makes perfect sense.

Media perception? True, I've never met her, but all you need is a photograph. Eyes reveal, hands define and words confirm. Frauds pop up left and right and it takes about 30 seconds to spot them. The give away every time is that you can't fake something like that. There is no mistaking self-interest for selfishness. There is only an individual who is willing to take responsibility for her actions as an individual. A rare thing, if you ask me.

Please enlighten me if you've found otherwise. If so, I would love to hear about it.


Disclaimer: According to data collected today by "1/4 Dr." Jeff Stambough, I have 37 hours of opinions. To put that on his scale, I have 32.5 more hours of opinion than the average human. I think his scale needs calibrated.


Image courtesy of vanityfair.com

Just to make sure we are all on the same page, it says:


Poison

LIVE RAW & UNCUT

STAGE CREW

To further clarify, or rather, if you are confused, this shirt belongs to me. Every rose has its thorn, baby.

And now for the $0.01* question... is Bret Michaels badly balding or does he wear a bandana 24/7 because he owns one in every color, in and out, of the rainbow?

Personally, I think he just likes the wide array of choices the makers of bandanas (whomever that may be) offer him.

*In case you were wondering, some worth was assigned to the question because Mr. Michaels rocks a Poison shirt while performing. Pretty gutsy. And stupid. But still, pretty gutsy.

This....

I cannot cross off my list of things to do. In fact, I'm pretty positive it was never actually on that list. Just for the record, these bikes and the gentlemen on them were not kind of awesome, but totally awesome.

And on a completely separate note: over the past 9 months or so I've been experiencing communication overload (as I'm sure everyone has), but it's finally getting to me now. It's absolutely ridiculous that I've been continuing and completing conversations in about 10 (in-person, cell (call and text), Skype, AIM, blog, gmail, gchat, Facebook, Myspace) different ways.

And I really can't do much about it. I mean, face-to-face communication is obviously still the best with the phone in close 2nd, but I can't neglect the fact that I've made my peace with Facebook and Myspace, that Skype is possibly the greatest thing ever for long-distance relationships/friendships/businesses, that AIM is like my favorite pair of slippers that I just can't get rid of, that texting still drives me crazy, but I believe my last monthly text total was 543 (thank you, NYC) and that gchat/gmail has been my love for the better half of a year. And well, the blog is the blog, but that doesn't mean that I like to admit any of the above.

What I would like to know is... where does etiquette come into the picture? Why is it okay to relay meaningful information via a text message or the internet? In light of all of these other options, why has it become so hard and/or intimidating to pick up a telephone or to look someone in the eye?

I mean, come on! I'm not saying to do anything drastically silly like ditching internet communication, but what happened to the glory of snail mail as a form of secondary communication, where the recipient recognizes the time and thought put into such a note? When was the last time any of you guys took the time to write a letter? It's been awhile for me too, but I can say that it's under 3 years.

I should probably stop writing now, but I'd just like to note that I'm confident E.T. wouldn't have text-messaged home and not just because he had awkward fingers.

Most importantly though, I almost ate a whole box of rosemary and olive oil triscuits while writing this. They were delicious.

Have YOU ever been in a Slipknot mosh pit??

I know I can cross it off of my list of things to do.