Life changes never come with an easy transition. The events of the past few days sure make this evident. A few folks are mad at me because of the move I'm making. A few different folks are mad at me because a certain person's agenda has me atop her hit list. Whatever. Getting angry is a sure fire way to make things worse. My last two posts that were deleted attest to this. Anyway, I have things to do. Packing of books and those belongings I'll be taking to LA with me begins this week. I have an exhibit running at the Collingwood that runs through December and the final group shoot I host before I leave at the end of December. The book project I started working on in July is finally reaching fruition. I set a minimum page count of 108 pages and finishing it while attempting to negotiate grad school was way difficult. When the project was in its initial stages, Katie had offered to write the introduction for me. The idea of framing a book of 108 pages of models with black tape on their mouths poses some interesting challenges.
My writing of late has been more raw and a bludgeon than anything else. It transfers over into how I function socially. I know other photographers who pretty much shoot the same subject matter as me who look for the spiritual energy of their subjection in motion. I'm looking point blank at the raw and visceral. I'm one of those guys who is always wondering what's on the woman's mind. Insecurity? Yeah. It's also fair to state that those times that information is divulged, you might not like the answer.
The past is a pebble in my shoe. I've been given sage advice too many times to count and my ignoring it has led to nothing but pain. "TMI." "Don't shit where you work.." "Your wealth is your friends." "The measure of a person is how they deal with their loneliness." When I plunge forward disregarding these things, I pay for it. I'm of the mind to disregard the drama of this weekend except for how some folks who I did regard highly responded to it. I'm an odd duck. I can feel lonely in a crowd but am sincere in my love and loyalty to my friends - the real ones. They cringe when I get emotastic in public forums. Can't say that I blame them. I'm clinically depressed and should have attempted to find a way to continue being treated for it when I was separated from my job. I didn't. That's on me. Drinking aggravates the problem, and that's on me too. It doesn't matter that I don't do it that often. It matters that almost every time I do it, it ends badly. So, happiness comes in creation and interpretation. This, ultimately, is what is fueling the move to LA - this and the fact it will be the first time I can afford to make the move. It's time to find some new solutions to some old problems. The plan for LA is to hit the ground running creating.
"Friendship is dirty. Bathe often." My friend Andi said this. So true. As I said, my friends know me. They know I respect women and my models in particular. I've been doing this for a while, and it's why I can shoot with pretty much who I want when I want. Emo rants in public forums do not equate to me wanting to fuck my models. In over five years of shooting, I've never attempted to date or made one sexual advance to a model I've worked with. I'm kind of shy socially as well as having a healthy respect for the process of creation. It's easy for someone who has an agenda and an axe to grind against you to play connect the dots with unrelated items and make a case against you. The axe to grind was simply based on the fact that I was making no secret of my distaste of her use and abuse of a friend of mine. I was attempting to call her on it on the night in question. The lesson learned is not to engage in pointless battles for friends unless they ask you to. Another lesson learned is not to get into a battle with someone who will do anything and say anything to defame your character. I've said enough about this. The intrawebs and the community we work in are interesting institutions. I don't get out and about enough on line or socially to spread the word as she does. People are going to believe what they believe. Her fanboys can call me a GWC all they wish, although I am a bit sad that a model or two who have met me and should know better have been left with negative impressions of me.
So, onward and upward to LA and expanding my horizons.
P.S. When I finally have the courage to ask a woman out on a date or proposition one, y'all will be the first to know. It won't be a model.
Oh, and the images above are all from my "Submission and Noise" exhibit hanging at the CAC. It's a good reminder as to why I created this blog - to showcase my work and my thoughts on it. No more, no less.
This isn't an idle threat. I deleted my post from this morning, because I've decided to treat this issue like an adult. As an adult, actions have consequences. Thanks to my returning to my employer in September, I have the benefit of free legal services. Sooo, since a person's blog has effectively defamed my character (not mentioning me by name doesn't diminish the very real expectation she was talking about me). Any judge will agree with me about this. If the blog post defaming me isn't deleted by tomorrow night at midnight, I will be speaking to an attorney Monday morning.
So, it's been six months since I posted. Life happened, job, school, changes. I'm pretty much completely out of the loop, and yet still I find myself on the lips or in the blogs of others (and not in a positive fashion). Face it, I can be a little emo bastard. Too much time on my hands and/or too much alcohol equals an unhappy Boyd. Then, again, I've been working too hard of late to have to worry about such things. There are people in this world who are super-talented at formulating Class A Drama. They'll take a little nugget of truth and spin it into an outrageous campaign of lies and character assassination. Congrats, young lady, you've found your true calling in life. Where to start? You trashed a good friend of mine, spread the rumors about him yourself and now you lie about your duplicity. Wow, you've even managed to worm your way back into his heart. You trash a scene that pretty much put you and others on the proverbial map. You trashed me, saying how I want to "fuck" the models I work with. Dear, I was emo long before I became a photographer. In five years of shooting, I have never once asked a model to date me, have sex with me or anything of the sort. Why do you think I can shoot with pretty much whomever I want? I've been doing this a bit longer than you and will be creating long after people tire of your miserable, toxic ass. You talk about rumors when you're the one who damn well makes sure they have a long shelf life. When a group of folks cleaning out a room stumble upon something very damaging to someone, there's a strong possibility that someone or a few might say something, particularly out of concern for that someone they love (she's got more talent in her pinkie than you have in your whole body). We all love her and care about her so STFU. What we really don't like is someone like you poisoning friendships and relationships that were built well before you became the stain that you are. You, frankly, are an emotional terrorist. You wreak your damage without a care in the world. End yourself. Seriously.
that everything I do didn't seem to be an annoyance these days. I feel like I get on so many folks' nerves, and that the only reason they don't come out and say it is they don't want to be mean. When you're 42 years old, you're not supposed to be needy. Job. Love life. A sense of accomplishment. All these things are supposed to happen in your twenties. I am where I'm at in this point of my life because I fucked things up. I can't wish myself out of this predicament. I have to show some patience and do the things that will make my life a little more fulfilling increment by increment. The road through is bumpy. My rough journey scares some folks away and disgusts others. I feel quite often that some younger folks I know almost feel as if I don't deserve to live. TMI on Boyd. How dare he make me feel uncomfortable by existing. The best revenge is success fuckers.
. . but she has not once made the effort to make peace with me. She tells all about her scars, fears and failings, but for me to do the same is somehow abhorrent to her. She's beneath my contempt because of this.