PLAYLIST - ALL MAZZY

Today I started a period of time where nothing was expected of me for twenty-four hours.  'twas so nice.

Even though that's over.

Okay … I was still expected to take a meeting today, get my hair cut and have coffee with a friend.

Other than that … really … nothing and … it felt so nice.

The coffee, though, as always, was quite enjoyable.  I asked the guy who cut my hair, "Do you know Hayley?"

"I think (so-and-so) does her hair.  I don't know-know her, but dude she's hot."

I thought a while.

I've never really looked at her as being hot or not hot.  

I just look at her as someone that I connect with on a soul-level.

There is probably no other person on this planet where any idea I come up with shocks her or she tells me it's stupid.  In fact, I don't think there's anyone else when I hear an idea – and they flow like a Sierra tributary in the Spring – that I think she's nuts.

She's a fashion designer.  She's a painter.  She's always creating.

Except when an employee gives a credit instead of charging someone.

Or when she's waiting for FEDEX.

Or when she's telling me to stay, "it'll just be a few minutes."

Which always turns into an hour.

But … I had nothing – really – to today.

"Fade Into You" … the video … from God-only-knows-how-long-ago … by Mazzy Star is so incredible on so many different levels.

That last missive about my soulful friend is going to be so misconstrued on so many different levels.

Oh well.

~lugerman pointed me in the direction of a blog: [link].

I read it.  This dude is so effing wrong.  I checked out his website – the first thing that catches my eye is that he's a "how to" author hawking his books.  In his blog he says that assisting is wrong.  Okay, if all you do is make stock photo imagery and landscape and material like that … sure … maybe you don't need an assistant.

I think he got rejected as an assistant.  Perhaps.  Dunno.  

Honestly, light is light is light.  How you make the light is pretty much the same if you're a fashion, commercial, celebrity portrait … whatever … kind of photographer.  As an assistant you get to learn your way around a set, see how the photographer interacts with the client, the crew, the cops.  Whatever.  It's totally invaluable.

I think homey wants you to buy his book and become a marginal stock photographer.  

Sounds like he has the "teacher mentality" of … well … I just think teachers – if they were exceptional – would probably be shooting commercially.

If you're going to flame me because of that last statement, trust me … I really don't give a rat's ass.

That said … well … I hire assistants from the film world … never aspiring photographers.

Yes, I got a chance from another photographer … but I'm not him.

I've been so damn busy … I don't even know where to start.

:dev cei-: was right … Tiger rocks.  It even seems faster to me.

Now … for the decision on the new machine.  Why?  I mean this 17" Powerbook has treated me so damn well.  Really well.  But … I'm pretty sure I'm switching to [link] damn cool.  It lacks some PS CS stuff but … I don't really manip photos.  Levels.  Cont.  A little curves.  Some clone-stamping.  Unsharp mask.  Lassos.  Other than that.  I don't care that PS CS offers a lot of stuff that it does.

As much as I'd love to have a twin dual processor … I'm mobile.  

A Powerbook does all I need.

I hear Leica's financials are looking better and better.  Good on them!  I'm very happy.  I knew that purchasing the 75/2.0 APO-ASPH would provide the turn-around.

I finished writing another article-slash-diatribe.  It took me two weeks.  It's long.  Totally at the expense of gray matter.  Just proof-reading it now.  Have it up one of these days.

The next will be about the lens and the muse.

After that … street photography and the rangefinder.

This current one?  I dunno what to effing call it … Ode to a Leica.  I know … I'll be flamed for being a pretentious Leica-user.  Again, I don't effing care.  Seriously.

This past week I was at the Chateau Marmont.  During a break … I sat in the lobby with some friends and ate pomme frites.  Then some Rissoto balls.  And a coke.  Amazing place this is.  I saw an actress-friend – one that made me more money on one friggin' photo than any other – and I'm worried.  She smelled like metabolized alcohol.  Through expensive perfume, of course.  Not like she went out drinking last night and was hung over but the smell of someone that drank for the last week.  Hard.  I saw the daughter of an aging rocker looking like she needed to be consoled quite badly.  And … she was with a "possie."  They don't care about their ticket "to the life"?  Feel bad for her.  The most fun was watching a fake-boobed icon and her celebrity photographer buddy look at digital contact sheets.  No … I'm sorry the most lame fucking thing (shit I said fuck) … after reading lolly's missive about profanity I thought I should cut back on my judicious use of the word fuck but … whatever.

Ban the ambassador, bitch.

Banned any ambassadors Point?  Hmm…

Anyway … the lead singer of a I don't know what to call his group.  Easy listening rock, perhaps.  He paraded around the lobby with his fucking dog.  Nice dog, don't get me wrong.  But the dog was tied with a scarf as a leash.  Homie was so trolling for chicks.

If I were a rockstar I don't think I'd need a fucking dog to get fucking laid, right?

Lame.

If found out that another of my little actress friends has ulcers.  Bad ones.

Then again, the thing about actresses is … they're always fucking acting.  So … who knows.

When I saw her writhing in pain I asked if I could do anything for her.

She smiled and was genuinely impressed that I cared.

Then … like a mercurial actress … she disappeared into the Chateau.

The Chateau Marmont is my favourite place in Los Angeles.

Room 64,

If you've never been there, you're missing out.

Then again, most will never get past the security at the door.

Much less with a camera.

I know it's time to shoot some personal stuff.  Not like personal stuff I do every day.  Like today, there is the sweetest Hispanic girl.  Mayra.  At Taco Bell.  Amazing eyes.  Smile.  I did her portrait whilst handing me a nachos supreme.  Vegans be damned.

Not really.  I don't wish damnation on anyone.

But … I've enlisted the help of two fabulous art directors for my idea.  Tomorrow I'm starting the commissioning of the props.

No, I'm not telling what it's going to be.

Not what a certain world expects from me for damn sure.

It won't even be posted here as I'm sure some of the talent will put restrictions on the use.

Cameras as daggars.
A red carpet coloured not from dye.

Perhaps some jock-straps.

That got the interest of the fabulous duo that I enlisted.

Should be interesting.

Imagine asking huge designers, "I'd love to use some of your stuff.  I mean … it's not like you're going to get it back in the form you gave it to me so … I'll need to get a waiver for damage."

Amazingly, a few didn't tell me to fuck off.

I like productions.

Maybe I missed my calling.

I blew the amp for the speakers for my Mac.  Destroyed in less than 2 weeks!

So … I'm relegated to listening to the Ipod through my home stereo speakers.  Not that it's bad.  The head unit and speakers are amazing.  In all actuality, I'm enjoying listening to them.  

I love my couch.

It's like a friend I don't get to see very often.

A warm friend.

A friend that's nice to sit on.

Just kidding.

I don't usually sit on my friends.

So … no religion … no guns … no politics in this edition.  Dunno why.

I'm still on a news friggin' moratorium.  Haven't turned on the Sirius news "channel bank" in the car.  Only the new Ipod.

Apple really really really hit it out of the park with this bitch.

So … again … thanks so much for the comments … the faves … the pageviews … the devwatches.  Yes, I read every single friggin' one.  I promise.  Notes … they're still my bane.  I get so many it's friggin' crazy.  I may not respond but I read everything.  Swear.

Hope everyone has an amazing weekend.  I'm going to [link] tomorrow night.  Nice relaxing weekend.  I'm not even sure I'll "show my face" at my clubhouse.  

Christmas shopping in NYC or Paris?  Or even Rome?  Dunno yet … but I'm deciding.

As always … I hope this finds you all very very well!

Cheers from the land of those that want the headshot that will change their lives,