the other side of the lens

The model that's been visiting me from out of town went home today. We shot together all day yesterday and it turned out great, as it always does.
"I hope this doesnt sound strange" she said, "But I want to take your picture. I want you to get undressed and stand in front of the window. If that isn't too weird will you do that for me"?

I thought about it for a moment and decided it would be alright. She was inspired by the tall windows in my apartment and had a vision in mind, so I was happy to participate, just as she has been for me any number of times.

I stood still where she placed me, waiting for her to put things just as she imagined them and then she walked backwards down the long narrow hall, through the far doors and pointed the lens at me.

Carnal Carnivale

Here's a video from the show that I've been working on. I was really happy that it all came together, given the sudden changes in dates I could have the venue, last minute talent lineps, etc. I think it turned out pretty well and the venue wants the event back, so it'll happen there again soon.

carpe

I've been toying with the idea of driving back to where I'm from to visit family. I've got a niece that's a year old that I've never met. My grandmother is also hospitalized, so i need to go and visit her as well.

My last trip home was for a funeral a year and a half ago and it wasn't a good one, for any number of reasons ranging from the passing of my grandmother to the unavailability of my ex to make any effort to support me (she never even considered going with me and barely uttered a word of support, even when I called her late at night needing her). I felt so disconnected and alone in that moment that I knew life changes would have to be made in order for me to ensure a hope of happiness in the future.

I recently met a girl named Ellie who's lived not far from where I'm from. I mentioned that I might drive there and she expressed an interest in splitting gas, because she hasn't been back in a while. I'm considering it; I'd welcome the company on a long road trip; my last one took a lot out of me in some ways.

I've also been spending time with someone new. We have been taking things slowly, but she's been an amazing friend to me and I appreciate her more every day. I'm not really sure where we are going just yet, but I'm happy to have gotten the chance recently to get to know her.

My life has taken lot's of turns recently. Lot's of doubling back and sometimes circling. I felt like I was in holding patterns for a little while, but in stepping back, I realize I've been making more progress than I thought. I've been changing, moving away from the things that I was unhappy with and while every once in a while I lament the loss of the past some moments, I've been moving forward steadily to seize the future instead.

Making Noise

Last night I marched in a Noise Parade for what felt like an impossible distance carrying a garbage can fashioned into a drum. Noisician Coalition has been become a great release for me; there's nothing quite like banging on a metal trash can until it starts to loose it's shape, while making music, to let you release frustration. We all dress in black, white and red, but with no real uniform code.

The building process had been a little frustrating for me. There were so many things going in in my mind that the noise of other peoples instruments as I tried to concentrate on my own was overwhelming at some points. I'm glad that part is over for now, because playing is what I've been waiting to do. Marching with everyone in a parade, next to each other, turning noise into music; that's what I've been wanting to do.

We started in the Bywater, warming up a little anxiously. We were leading the parade, with only the flag bearer and the police escort ahead of us. The large rolling metal contraption called simply "the box" was being pushed by one person and drummed on by two others. It lets out a deep bass sound that sets the tone for what we are playing.

My drum has two sides, one high, one low, but every surface makes a sound when pounded on with sticks or mallets (I carry both). I listened to the sound of the The Box as well as to what everyone else is doing and I find my place. I close my eyes, counting in my head and when people start to get sloppy I get a little louder hoping to pull people on track. When things get too repetitive for too long, I switch it up a bit and see if something new catches with other people. When I loose focus I stop playing to find it again, jumping back in where I belong.

We marched on forever, stopping on occasion to let people catch up with us. When we were still, I'd close my eye's and play, letting my drumming match the bass rythm, lending a higher sound to it and reinforcing that it was the center of the noise. Despite it all, despite all the noise, my mind drifted back and forth between the people in my life and the noise I was making.

On Frenchman street I pounded away on my drum finding a good rythm with the girl standing next to me. She is tall and pretty; dressed extravagantly as we all are. The people smile and cheer as we play, some people dancing past us as we come to a stop in the middle of the street. We fell together and then parted in our drumming, then back together again and for that moment there weren't any issue's in my life, there weren't any problems, people I missed, things that needed to be done. There was nothing except my friends and I making noise.

should have, but didn't

We worked together in adult entertainment for years and even though we've been divorced now for a few months, separated for longer, I still have unreleased material that I'm cycling out. Material that we shot together, are both in and is a reminder on a daily basis of the relationship.

I need to keep releasing this material, but that doesn't make it any easier. It also doesn't make it easy that she went to work for my largest competitor, taking the name and idea with her, reproducing it with their considerable resources and then plastering it in all the places I'm sure to see it.

Break ups are always hard, as is the idea of your ex sleeping with someone else. We all know that it happens, but can you imagine for a moment seeing some evidence of it every day as well as having to look at material of the two of you together? It makes getting past it awkward, difficult.

Today I had to tell her that I couldn't offer her help any more and that I didn't want to hear about her projects. I scrubbed away my list of places that I could do without, where I might come across her. I said out loud my frustrations to the empty room and let them go so that I could send her messages without being hurtful, but it wasn't easy.

I'm friends with everyone that I've ever dated, but this is proving to be a challenge for me. It's the circumstances and it's my own fault. I didn't consider when entering into these sordid endeavors that we'd split and I'd be left sifting through this box of photo's because that's how I make a living. I didn't consider that I'd have to try and cheer her on while she worked against me to capture the same audience and worked with other men. There were a lot of things that I should have considered, but I didn't.

keeping it in perspective

We sat next to one another, discussing the common behaviors of the person we'd each been with that had struggled with addiction. The self righteousness; the indignation at the fact that despite how many times they hadn't kept their word that they shouldn't be taken for it unquestioningly. The constant promises of a better tomorrow, today that were explained away after the fact by the fact that we hadn't believed in them enough for them to bother.

We listened to each other and were able to predict what the person that the story about was going to do next, because we'd both had similar experiences with people that suffer from compulsions that allow them to justify even the most selfish behavior.

When you are in the moment with someone, when you love them, it's easy to allow a lot of things that once you step back will make you feel foolish. Promises that were obviously never intended to be fulfilled, loyalties that ran shallow; these are things that you don't see until you step back far enough to take it all in, and then you feel embarrassed that you didn't see it sooner.

My ex sent me a message today asking for my time, which she would later answer back that was for the sake of answering a question about a task of her new job. She works now for my competition, taking with her the secrets and research that I accumulated over the last three years and making a career out of my hard work. I've offered to help her, so I'm as much to blame as she is for allowing it, but today, when stepping back, it became obvious and I had to rescind my offer. I don't want to hear about it any more, or know about it. I certainly don't want to help her accomplish something that ultimately hurts what I've done and affects my future. She will undoubtedly see this as unfair, but I can't be responsible for that either. It isn't my job any more to see to her future. I sent her a message saying I'm sorry, but I can't help her be a part of my undoing any more.

I know that what I'm refusing to do isn't unreasonable, but standing on top of the issue it's easy to lose focus of the big picture and feel like something that you know will be harmful to you should still be considered for the sake of the person you are with. We know better, this friend and I, and I'm hoping that in seeing each other go through similar circumstances will help both of us keep our perspective.

not so strange (stranger).

I saw her again, finally, after not having run into her for some time. She was with someone else and so was I, but I waved to her from across the room and she smiled at me weakly when she left. I ran into her again the next day and she seemed reluctant to make eye contact, letting her roommate do all the talking initially, but eventually she gained confidence and spoke to me with enthusiasm (if only for a moment). It seems strange to me that we should be so awkward around one another; I've not figured out what that means just yet.

I spent the evening out last night with friends and it was nice to get things accomplished as well as have a little fun. I like to step out of my own head, get out of the house, particularly since I work alone from home.

The day was long and turned out to be challenging but I'm learning after a certain point to let go, move on, not let people or things bother me so much that they change my day, my outlook, my perspective. When I lay my head down at night I have to be able to shut it all off and while I haven't perfected this just yet, I'm getting better at it.

you, the sun and I.

Today's been one of those days; The sort where you start out with a plan and it gets derailed. Some of the changes in plan were positive; the sort that improve your life because you took the time out for them. Other interruptions were productive, causing me to focus on things that maybe needed my attention more than I've realized, but in the end were worth the time.

Regardless of the rhyme or reason for any of these distractions, I can feel the change coming in my life soon. The change in plan, the change in priority, the change moving me toward what I have to do next; where I got from here and what I'll be doing when I get there.

I walked in the sun today, changing sides of the street so I could feel it on my face while I thought about who I am and what I want. It felt good to consider this while I walked through a gorgeous autumn day, because that means that I'm not stalling, losing focus, settling for what's in front of me. I'm willing to cross the street to feel the sun shining on my face.

shut out the light

It's taken me forever to get the curtains for my bedroom; the windows are so tall that special ordering drapes long enough to cover them was a necessity that ended in frustration when it was cancelled for lack of stock. I happened, amazingly, to come across four panels that were long enough when i was looking for something else, and I snapped them up on the spot, regardless of the fact that they weren't exactly what I was looking for.

I went to hang them today after buying a ladder (which I had to carry home through the French Quarter) and found that not only were they still not quite long enough (108 inches), but the building has shifted enough that my efforts for hanging them with precision were actually counterproductive. I settled for measuring the distance from the floor to the rod so that they would just touch the floor, even if it meant they were a little uneven (you'll either tell at the top or at the bottom; I decided to be true to the floor instead of the ceiling).

The character flaws you find charming when not considering what you'll have to live with are still great enough that despite my task being harder than it needed to be, I don't really have much to complain about. It might not be exact, but nothing else is in the room either and the pursuit for perfection is, after the first rod was hung, something that I was spared.

Now I'll sleep, even when the sun is bright. I'll be able to have the privacy in my bedroom to not worry about getting dressed to go to my dresser just because it's near a window.

Fall

It's fall here, finally. I woke this morning and it was cold. In going to shut the air conditioner off realized the temperature in the room was ten degrees lower than it would have needed to be on anyhow.

I pulled a shirt over my head and slid back into bed, thinking it's time that I go and buy blankets. I'll be having company over and the long New Orleans summer has given me the idea that it would never end, so i just haven't gone to get anything heavy enough to keep warm, yet. Now though, i'll have to.

I also realized that in the divorce and all the moves, i've lost my cold weather clothing. I have a light jacket and a heavy coat, but everything else is gone. I'll have to collect new things, piece by piece, along with new blankets.

It's the sort of cool weather that makes you want to drink hot tea, stop for warm coffee, eat foods that are heavier than your can stomach during the hot summer days.

It's the sort of weather that inspires you to want to stay in bed, wrapped around someone for just a little longer in the morning, you know; keeping each other warm...

onetwothree sleep!

I've never seen someone fall asleep so fast in my life. She laid her head in my lap and said "I'm going to fall asleep right now", and it was instantly done. Perhaps I'm more impressed by this because I'm an insomniac, but I've never seen someone fall asleep on their own command before. I had a roommate once (a magician) that had doves he trained so that by putting them on their back and shaking them slightly up and down they would fall asleep. I've seen hypnotists make people fall into a trance with the snap of their fingers. None of these things was as impressive as the girl that fell asleep on her own command.

not very good at sleeping

It's (far too) early. My sense of responsibility made it hard to sleep last night, snapping awake constantly in anticipation of the alarm this morning that meant that I had something briefly to do. It only took a few moments, but it took over my night.

I'm not very good at sleeping.

I walked through the French Quarter and saw people unloading trucks to fill shelves at grocery stores and freezers in restaurants. I saw them delivering cases to replenish what we drank last night.

I walked the uneven sidewalks and heard the sounds of cheerful morning conversation, the radios playing news stories and talking about the weather. I heard doors and gates opening and closing as the rest of the world went to work and I went home to try and go back to sleep.

I laid in bed for half and hour but I could still hear these things and so i gave up trying, because I'm not very good at sleeping.

dressing down

We rode back in a cab from uptown. All night we'd looked at each other and then looked away, but not in the sort of way that belied interest; it was just timing and the result of being in the same packed room.

I stood outside waiting for the cab I'd called when she came out. I had a feeling she was just waiting and hadn't called one, so when mine arrived I asked her where she was going and if sharing one was a good idea. She told me it was, so we did and we talked a bit on the way. She told me her name, where she worked, what she did. She told me about her time in Chicago.

I paid for the fare up until the point of my destination and I got out with a casual goodbye. I think she was shocked; that she'd expected some flirtation, some advance; perhaps an invitation to join me.

I'd see her later at different venue and she'd be introduced to me by a different name. She found me on one of the social networking sites and her photo's and name there made it impossible for me to tell that all three people where one girl in the same. Someone mentioned she had conspiracy theories and so she was generally distrustful of the internet.

I saw her today and didn't recognize her right away. I was wearing sunglasses and listening to headphones and I noticed her staring at me. I stopped as I slowly realized that her hair was different color, she was wearing glasses and she was almost unrecognizable from the person I'd seen out nearly a half a dozen times by that point.

We chatted for a moment and I considered that she was actually far prettier when she wasn't wearing the wig, when she dressed more conservatively without the extreme makeup. I asked her if she'd be out tonight and she mused that she wasn't certain, but when I said I would be, her smile got a little bigger.

I didn't linger after telling her where to find me next. I told her it was nice seeing her and then went on about my way. When I was a few steps away I stole a backwards glance and she had an expression that suggested she didn't know what to make of me. I put my headphones back in while considering it fair that she shouldn't know what to think of me, because I wasn't sure to think of her either. I felt certain, however, that when I saw her next, we'd both be trying to figure each other out.

sometimes a smile is contagious

Marsha is a sweet woman who tends bar at one of my favorite places. She's found someone who makes her smile in a way that just seeing her makes me (and everyone else) happy. You often hear of people glowing, but seeing it in person is infectious; it makes you believe that everything is a little better, brighter because they see the world in such an optimistic way. She smiled tonight and told me about her date and my life was happier because of her happiness.

I went for a long walk today. I do this often, but today I walked hard and fast, listening to music as I made the loop through the French Quarter. I peered into windows but people were a blur. It was sticky outside already and the sweat beaded at my temples, my shirt stuck to my back. It took me less than four minutes to walk from one side to the other, so I looped back around, i stopped and grabbed a bottle of water at Flanagans, but I wasn't done walking, so I said hello and goodbye quickly before going back out again.

New Orleans is a busy city, so it forces me to pace myself a little. You can't really run through the quarter; there are too many cars and people to do that. You learn patience and restraint when you have to slow down for the elderly couples snapping pictures or the people pushing strollers. You are reminded to look up and appreciate when you follow their lenses. You learn to smile again because their enthusiasm is infectious.

(i'd be a) fool to believe

We had our week of not talking and then last night she called. She told me in the morning it would be at a certain time and then of course it's hours after when she said and the conversation has to be cut short because it's late.

She starts the conversation with whimsical musings about how she thinks of me all the time, wants to see me but she's scared. She wants it to be perfect, which nothing ever is and I tell her that waiting for it to be means we shouldn't count on seeing each other ever again.

"So are you dating anyone" she asks, which is why she really called. She is afraid I am. She tells me that she wants to show me that she can be nice to me, that she's making an effort to be nicer to people all in the same breath as "are you seeing anyone". She also makes it a point of wording her response to the same question elusive enough to try and inspire jealousy.

From the moment I tell her I'm not really dating anyone, everything goes downhill. She has to let me go because it's late and her phone is dying, but she stops to take another call in the middle of it from a friend.

Most of the questions about how I'm doing are so I'll ask the same. Most of her curiosity about my life is in wanting to know how it is without her. Most of my words of encouragement or affection are met with no response or two character text messages that smile at me with as much effort as I ever should expect.

I doze in and out, listening to the music of Berlin Dancing. I've come to find it's my (much) younger cousins music and her voice plays on repeat, soothing my fever and making me feel as though there is someone here, taking care of me.

These seven days

Looking back at the last weeks worth of posts, they all have the potential of seeming whiny, self-indulgent or obsessive of my past relationship, so I thought it time to put it into proper perspective.

A week ago, we had a blow-up. The sort that comes seemingly out of nowhere. I'd sent flowers the day before, thinking that sweet little gestures might open the door to better conversation, offer a reassurance that I did in fact want to continue to talk to her. It didn't have the effect I'd hope and was received with barely a notice. That wasn't hurtful enough in and of itself, but the attacks that I started getting the next day after another failed moment when we were supposed to talk on the phone; that's what bothered me.

It bothered me because I've come to realize it makes her feel better to have me want her, better yet to reject my want and all of this is justified because I left her. I want to let her pound her fists against me, but I don't know if i have it in me right now. RIght now I just want to be sweet to her and not have her punish me for it. Right now I want us to forgive each other (me for the reasons that I left her, her for my having left), but I don't know that it's possible.

When we had that blow up a week ago, she acted as though she was put off or put upon by my attention (who knows, maybe she's right), so I said "Fine, I won't text or call you anymore, I'll leave it to you. Let's not speak for a week."

That was six days ago, and I wonder if it'll turn out to be the end to more than just that argument.

Sick

I'm sick. Again. Laying in bed a little later than usual, watching Moulin Rouge and lamenting the fact that I, who am normally very healthy, has succumb to being sick twice in one month.

I'm lamenting something more though; the fact that there is no one to spoil me, pamper me. I'm not the sort to accept this sort of offer, mind you, and I have been getting them lately, but it's from people who haven't spent enough time with a healthy me to suffer me with a cold.

It's just that I've never had anyone do that for me, really. I was married for almost seven years and I've never had someone stop what they were doing to take care of me.

At some point it became that I was the sort of person that would just get out of bed and weather through. The sort of person that didn't need pampering. That's not how it started though. That's where it ended up after not getting it for long enough.

There are some things in life we'll claim to never have needed if the person we hope will give it to us, fails to do so often enough. We'll be fine without chicken soup, we can get our own tissue, we know where the medicine and the bottled water is.

Sooner or later we'll believe that about everything that person has to offer, including their love. We survive weak moments without it and it becomes a luxury and no longer a necessity, if we ever do even feel it.

When that love is gone, what we'll miss won't be the love that was there; it'll be the love we wished were there. It'll be the cool cloth on the forehead that never came. It'll be water never pressed to dry lips or the soup that wasn't carefully spoon fed us when we are too weak to do it ourselves.

We don't want to need another person. We don't want to rely on them to do these things for us. We do, however, want them to have enough care, compassion...love....to do these things for us without being asked or feeling obligated.

So the next time you go on about your day while the person you care for lies in bed, feeling under the weather, ask yourself if you've brought them comfort with your question "will you be ok today" or if their quick confirmation is meant to make YOU more comfortable not feeling obligated doing anything for them.

The open doors let just enough of a breeze blow in that I lay comfortably in bed and watch a movie. I push at my phone, rotate it with my fingers as I consider sending a message or taking a call. The rain drops start to land on the iron rails and wooden slats and I decide not to (make the call).

We said a week but it only took me a matter of a day to realize what needed to be done, so now I'm trying to be patient and wait out that time so i can say my word, have my piece.

I listen to the splattering of rain on the concrete below and listen to tourists as they consider how to stay dry, but it's too late and they know that.

I push the phone under my pillow, make sure the ringer is switched off and draw my hand out, leaving the phone behind so that I can forget about it if it's out of sight. I rewind the movie back past the moment I stopped paying attention and I look out the window, wondering if the rain or the movie will be a better distraction.

in the distance

Last night was a night of running, searching for certain people around the city that I chouldn't quite track down. I'd arrive at a restaurant or bar just moments after they'd left or be seated having a conversation that I couldn't excuse myself from as they passed outside my window, cutting through the balmy New Orleans night.

I was at dinner with Mona when Ella walked passed. We'd spent the night wandering the city together a few nights before, but I hadn't asked for her number (I should have) as I was sure I'd see her around again. I walked Mona home after we finished our little bit of business and went back to where I might find Ella, but she was gone; she and her roomate had left moments before.

Every place I went I missed the person I was looking for, but found someone else instead. At Flanagans I found Ashley, who I'd been out with a few evenings before. She was entertaining a friend who was in from out of town, but we went to the next stop on my list together, keeping each other company until her friend had to catch a cab back to her hotel and I walked her home.

We stood outside of her gate for a little while she hid tears in the creases of her smile because she'd wanted something recently; really needed it to give her encouragement in this sity and it hadn't come through. I hugged her and told her everything would be alright before she slipped through the gate, stopping to right turned over garbage cans, but never looking back as she disappeared down the long driveway.

I went back to Flanagans, hoping Ella would be there, but she wasn't. Andy, one of the owners was though and I always enjoy conversations with him. I sipped on whiskey for a while before Jenny came in and I decided to call it a night. She asked me to walk her home and I did, listening to what was on her mind as we made our way the few blocks.

I'd circled the city on foot, looking for people that I knew were near, but I wasn't fast enough to find. I found others along the way, some of whom helped my search, others who slowed it. At the end of the night I hadn't found what I was looking for, but I had the feeling that when I did, it would be worth it.

I thought about the moratorium on speaking that S and I had set and as I lay in bed, I drafted a few letters one of which I was sure would be the final answer to that. I felt that at the end of it we wouldnt pick up where we'd left off; things wouldnt be better, they (we) would be further apart than ever. It made me sad to think about, but also realieved to consider having the tension over, the constant sadness past and to be able to slowly, surely, but life back in order. We'll be happier when we can both accept that it might not be possible for us to be friends right now. I'm not to that point just yet, but I see it there, in the distance.

When it rains

When it rains in the afternoon, I open the tall windows in my office that lead out on to the balcony and keep them open to feel the cool air crawl inside, which is better than the artificial breeze, though sticky.

I sit at my desk and write distractedly, edit, reword and manage not to care about progress in what I'm writing as much as watching the encroaching drops as the wind carries them further inside, closer to my feet.

"You have a rain fetish", my friend Brian tells me.

"Admittedly", I reply, and after having lived in the desert for three years I'll make no attempt to hide how much I've missed the rain.

circling purgatory

I went to sleep at a reasonable hour last night. I dreamt of the present, conversations I'd had during the last few days, point's I'd have liked to have made. I thought of messages I'd sent to people (I checked my phone and I really hadn't). I slept though, which is a vast improvement.

It's been two day's since the last time we spoke; something of a record for us lately. I'm happier this way. I miss her of course, but the constant wondering what her motive was, why she's sweet one moment and then evil the next; it's too much. I left her, for good reason mind you, and started talking to me when she swore she changed. She hadn't changed though (If she was, it was subtle and for the worse). I have a strong feeling that her biggest motivation is to get me to take her back so she can reject me and feel better about herself. I'm half tempted to let her believe all of it, just so we can maybe move past this one day. I'd rather throw myself under the bus and get it over with then be dragged behind it for miles.

I suggested we not speak for a week after the way she treated me during our last conversation. She said I was a distraction and so I told her I wouldn't bother texting or calling her any more. I told her we should wait a week before we spoke again, and that was the last that either of us said. I have an ominous feeling it'll be the last thing we say to each other for a very long time; we'll stubbornly refuse to contact the other person until at last it's necessary and we've both moved on. When we do speak again, maybe hearts won't break in the same way. Perhaps we'll both have learned to stop circling purgatory and then we'll do what we are meant to do; move on.

Whisper of a thrill

I showed up at Jacks to see a bartender friend I'd been hoping to speak with, not so much to see the band. Angie (the bartender) wasn't working, so I stood at the bar, watching people as they sipped drinks and talked about which of the two bands they'd come to see.

I'd seen Elly around but hadn't ever even really made eye contact, so when I ended up being invited to join she and her friends and when we started talking, I was pleasantly surprised to find her quite engaging. When it was time to leave the bar, she took my hand in hers and lead me outside to where her friends had stopped just ahead of us and held on to it for a moment as they looked at our interlocked fingers somewhat incredulously. Her hand slipped from mine and we didn't take them up again; I could feel her fingers, even after they'd gone and I looked for the right moment to take them up again, but it never really seemed to come.

We wandered the city until late in the night, long after we'd walked her friends home and it was nice. She was nice. She's from my home state, so we had a lot to talk about. Her accent was thick, like it is in the far north and she cited Finnish heritage. We had one particularly hangout spot in common, so that's where we went. Friends of mine sat across the bar, wondering if I needed rescue or if they would be interrupting and truth be told, I wasn't entirely certain. There was something about her that made the situation pleasing, when with some others it might not have been so much.

We stopped for late night food and then I walked her home. She asked me if I wanted one more drink at Flanagans, but I politely declined; it was late and I wanted things to end while they were still in that magic hour and not after we'd overstayed a moment.

I didn't take her number; I should have. I'll see her around though and there is something thrilling about finding someone again, about the search; will I see her today? Will it be tomorrow? Will she smile as brightly as she did when she said goodnight? That's the thrill isn't it; whispering in my ear?

nights like this

Coffee and gelato; a conversation with someone that I thought might be dismissive, but who is (trying to be) understanding that I work in adult entertainment. It isn't easy, I know. She comes to my apartment, takes the tour, runs her feet over the rug and say's "Yeah, I'll be over often;I'm going to make myself at home".

She's witty, charming, pretty; all the things you'd like in a girl. She's well dressed and articulate; the sort of girl that will make you hope she really is ok with what you do, even if you fear secretly that she won't be, that some day you'll go to do a shoot and something will change; something palpable that will make everything different from then on.

Still though, you laugh and eat your gelato. You smile when you walk her home, and you hope.

Coffee and gelato; a conversation with someone that I thought might be dismissive, but who is (trying to be ) understanding that I work in adult entertainment. It isn't easy, I know.
She comes to my apartment, takes the tour, runs her feet over the rug and say's "Yeah, I'll be over often;I'm going to make myself at home".
She's witty, charming

How soon is now

"Tell me if you want me to fuck off or tell me if you want me to hold your hand. Tell me if you want me near or far. Not eventually, not tomorrow or yesterday. How do you want me now?"

"All the above. This is still raw to me I'm at a different place then you."

"I can't be near and far, so if you can't decide, I'll choose far".

She doesn't want "far" she tells me. She doesn't want "near" She wants me close enough to push and pull me, have me at her disposal. I left, she say's, so that entitles her to act how she is, despite the fact I may have (did) good reason to have left.

She's swore to me, to others that things are different, cried that no one gives her a chance to prove it. So I do and instead of seeing something different, she just rails against me for having left. I give her the choices and she refuses to make them. I tell her that she can have whatever she wants, but she won't say what that is. She won't give me an answer that will give me the ability to exercise an option, because she wants me to be every bit as frozen as she is.

She knows that I don't like stationary bikes or treadmills, because you are running fast and you should be so far, but you aren't. She like's them though and wants to watch me peddle away.

open up the doors

I closed my eye's for a few moments last night before getting up for a photo shoot at 6am. I'd been out late, and this time around I was in front of the lens instead of behind it. It's for a band and we are being photographed for a local magazine because we are playing a local festival later this month. We carried our makeshift instruments far out into the industrial area and took photo's until we were rained on. We all stopped for coffee and then took a handful more photo's (this one was snapped on my phone) after the rain cleared and I've just made it home to a shower and hopefully bed.


The night didn't start as cheerful though. It's had it's discourse, all related to trying to be a good person, a good friend to my ex. She tends to do hurtful things, like tell me about the fun she's had fun doing something else and then making excuses why she doesn't have the time to talk to me. She's quick to call or send a message if she wants me to know what she's been up to, the adventures, the fun, or in need of advice but when it's my turn to talk, she's never there. I'd been trying to take a zen like approach to it all; never be bothered by her, by way of never expecting anything from her. Then I realized that just means that I've got a person occupying a large place in my heart, my head, my life that doesn't offer anything in return and so I decided to make room; open up the doors..

the music to this montage is streaming in my head

Sitting in Stanley, finally having another meal I'd always meant to. I'm not a fan of breakfast, but banana's foster french toast seemed too good to never know. Looking through the windows out into Jackson square, seeing the tourists wander by while the waitress asks each new table where they are from. It's one of those "tourist in your own town" moments.

Driving down Prytania with the top down, the sunlight breaks through the branches of impossible oak tree's as I pass beneath them and I think to myself; "no matter where in the world I go, when I think back on New Orleans, this is what I'll think of".

Walking through the quarter and onward to Frenchman, past the large group of tours blocking the sidewalk, I hear make-believe or exaggerated history and my friend and I smile knowing the difference; the tour guide seems to know we know because she loses her pace as we pass.

Live music at a bar on Frenchman street. It's not the sort that I would choose to listen to typically, but it seems right, in the moment. I have drinks with an old friend, the man behind the bar used to work with us.

I have an amazing sandwich at a little restaurant around the corner from my doctors office. It's covered in hollandaise sauce and is undoubtedly bad for me, but it's delicious. It strikes me as a funny sort of thing to have next to a doctors office; like having a cigar shop next to an asthma specialist. It's good, but more than I can handle and I forget the rest of it after having carefully wrapped it to take with.

Laying in bed with the french doors open to the night sky. Flashes of lightening and the sound of rain falling gently (but I know there is a storm coming soon). I can't help but love this place and even if I did try not to, there would be some little reminder waiting to convince me that everything here is beautiful in it's own way.

All of these moments happened within two days. Each of them passed and were gone so quickly, but they make me think of a quote:

“Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it”
Confucius

I'm determined to see it, but I've admittedly got some help. In a city like New Orleans I'd think that it would be a greater challenge to fail to see beauty than to see it; there's something beautiful everywhere.

Things I never said

"I wake up in the morning and the first thing I think of is you. When I lay in bed at night, trying to fall asleep, it's you that I'm thinking of. I spend most of the hours between trying not to think of you too much and despite my considerable efforts, I still haven't figured out what it'll take for me to stop loving you."

We all have those things at the end of a relationship that we wish we would have said. Things that might not make a difference to you, but would to the person you said them to. Sometimes those things can be hurtful, but the things I never said that I'll regret the most are the ones that would have made her smile.