OK, something special today. Vernor Vinge's book Rainbows End is online. Smack that link back there. Vinge is a San Diego author whose work has been consistently thought provoking and precognizant. This novel has been labeled post-cyberpunk. Cyberpunk is a type pioneered by Wm. Gibson in "Count Zero" and others that featured ubiquitous computing as a theme and plot requirement. Post-cyberpunk gets on with the story which assumes ubiquitous computing, but treats it as part of the landscape. At least to my reading - I haven't looked for a better definition.

The story centers around a poet recovering from Alzheimer's and the other effects of age and long life and his catching up with the world around him - some decades in the future. Imagine bringing your great-great-grandmother back from the dead, physically young and healthy and up to speed today. There are, of course, several plotlines entwined around this, and for me the benefit of the action being either local or in other places with which I am familiar.

Vinge and I seem to be in the same places, though despite mutual acquaintances I do not believe we've met (unless at a party and only in passing).

The complete novel is online and available to be read or downloaded. I've been reading it online. That isn't my favorite way to read a book. I've seen it on the shelves, but for some reason or other did not pick it up. I wish I had. Trouble is that now I probably won't. I will however see if he's got any other titles out that I haven't read, and will surely buy them.

This is Cori, photographed in Oceanside, the other side of Camp Pendleton from Fallbrook, which plays a big part in the book.

P.S. I just ran out and bought the book. Tired of trying to read online. I wonder if Vernor knew this would happen?

P.P.S. I just partly got the joke. The plot of the novel includes the digitizing of the UCSD library. That with the destruction of the actual books. Vinge's digitizing of his own book may be a demonstration of digitizing without destruction. Or it may not even be a joke. I know it's bloody recursive, but don't exactly know in what way ... or ways. News as it happens...

This picture has been shown a lot on the blog. It's one of nine 16x20 prints in my real portfolio. I like the light, the ambiguity of the white plastic dick and ejaculatory cord, and knowing (because I was there) that Uma's really getting off. And I like her ribs.

I did another photoshoot in Arlington, Texas, the same trip. The girl was all of 18 (verified by two forms of government-issued I.D.) but was still in high school. I found that bit out after the shoot, though it probably wouldn't have made a difference. This other model was Hispanic, almost chubby, and completely into the whole concept, diddling herself silly while I photographed her. There were some excellent pictures, but a few weeks after the shoot she emailed asking that I delete the pictures that were posted and not show them again. Family problems. Probably B/F problems, too. So I took them down and deleted them from all electronic media. I still have the negatives, but I won't show them again anywhere - even in print.

That was a pain-in-the-ass. But it's not my job to help some girl screw up her life, and I won't insist on showing pictures that would hurt anyone. She should have known better, but she didn't. All I can do is make photographs - I have no special knowledge into the lives of my models usually.

(I have noticed that one model I've shown pictures of quite a bit has taken her presence off the web. She hasn't asked me to quit showing them or anything. If she is reading this and does want me to, as she needs to do is ask. Frankly, I hope she is reading and decides to let me keep showing them, as she is so damned beautiful it would be a shame to deprive the world of her pictures.)

See, that's one of the problems with photographs of this nature. Some see them as a beautiful record of humanity and sexuality, and others as a monument to perversion and porn. Personally, I'd split the difference something like 60%-40%.

Finished up another of those swords and barbarians books yesterday. Joe Abercrombie's The Blade Itself, is the first of what should be an entertaining trilogy. It's got a magus, a barbarian, an uppercrust and effete swordsman, a torturer, one pretty girl with substance, several without, one wiry dark girl - a consummate killer, evil and encroaching nations, savages, swords, axes, spears, blood, gore and a pretty good plot that nicely leads into the next book, which I will assuredly buy when I see it (Edit: due out 3/08). After I've taken a little break from the genre. I don't know that I'd call this book "great," but it kept my attention with a plot complex enough for an adult. Lots of insightful politics.

Well, a couple of Minnesota girls have contacted me, but none are booked yet. Because of the success of sharing the drive up that way last time, I've offered to take a rider/driver this time too. Or a load. A load would be better, so I could wander more along the way.

This is Claudia, photographed in my studio way long ago using grainy 35mm film.

One of the first scanned of about 30 frames of Julia from my last visit with her in Madison. That's the visit where she accompanied me to my niece's wedding and got to meet my mother and siblings. And they charmed each other.

So I still have more of her and Kristin Anne to scan, and a few more experimental 4x5 sheets to develop. This was with the Pentax 6x7, but I really do want to use the 4x5 more.

On a techie note, the P6x7s have a known weakness. The film advance mechanism wears out, giving uneven spacing, sometimes resulting in only 9 frames per 120 roll. That's what happened when I used my backup body shooting Kristin. I've since retired that body and now have the backup to the backup as my primary backup. The old backup now becomes the hanger queen, providing parts for the other two. Gotta break out the jewellers' screwdrivers and fix the shutter speed ring on the main camera tonight. They're getting old now. Maybe I sould consider one of those newfangled 67II bodies.

I'm going to drive up to Minnesota over the break between Christmas and New Years. I may even photograph some pretty girls up there. Still no idea what I'll be doing different, but I've got to do something. I photographed a sledgehammer and chisel in my studio with the 4x5 yesterday, but it's just not the same thing. And I'll be driving to Tulsa and turning north again, so there are possibilities of shoots along the way as well.

Got a toothache today. Not a good sign. Aspirin will keep it under control until tomorrow, but I'll have to get in then and have it looked at. Also not a good thing.

Sigh...

Ashley and Chantel in Winnipeg awhile back.

Back to that recurring question of whether photographers should grope models. The short answer is yes, provided everyone is happy at the end of the day! The long answer is no, you'll make bad pictures, go to hell and your focus will suck. As happened here - hard to focus a big Pentax 6x7 with one hand busy elsewhere. But I knew that, as I'd run into the same stupid problem before. Gotta use both hands with that camera. And that's the best possible argument for auto-focus! Still, I'm not convinced that with the shallow DOF due to low light, auto-focus would have done much better. One of those eyeball-tracking ones might have done it, but - well - I'm not sure where my eye was actually looking anyway - the focus on her nipple is pretty sharp.

That's Angela being tolerant of this old fool. Bless her heart.

You know, a lot of the books I've been reading lately involve wholesale slaughter of evil warriors and such. That stuff gets shrugged off far too easily, making each of that multitude a mere cypher. And that's not the way it really is. Perhaps someone should write a book of short stories of the lives of the dozen or the hundred of these folks that our heroes have despatched to the netherworld.

The first, a member of the opponent's hoard, slashed neck to hip by our hero's magick sword, left home to support his wife and kids, having no other option. The second, a thief in the forest whose skull was crushed by our hero's mighty warhammer was just a kid looking for a little excitement who picked the losing side and deserted, as there was nothing and no one left to serve, and he was just trying to get home and needed to eat. The third wanted to visit exotic places, and found himself dying in such a place, pierced through the gullet by our hero's (mighty) dagger while guarding the horses. The fourth ...

It's never as clearcut as the storybooks make it out to be. The pawns in the story have lives too. Uh, had lives too. But I suppose the novelist wouldn't be well-advised to do character development of anyone who appears, does his part, then dies in a single paragraph, huh?

Yeah, I'm reading yet another of those now. I think I need to switch genres soon.

This is Desiree again. I had trouble deciding between the last picture and this one for the last post, but I figure there's no such thing as too much Desiree, so here she is again.

Jews With Swords was the working title Michael Chabon used for his latest, Gentlemen of the Road. Bought it this morning and just finished it up now, leaving me with a shortage of bubblegum books. Yes, this is one of those. Chabon's wonderful "The Yiddish Policemen's Union" and popular "Kavalier and Clay" were masterpieces of a sort; the sort being new wave Jewish adventure-humor. Or something like that.

"Gentlemen" is a short book which takes place in Conan the Barbarian's old stomping ground of the Caucasus region between the Black and Caspian Seas. It's set about two hundred years after Mohamed invented Islam and involves a whole lot of Jews with swords. A big black African Jew, a skinny Frankish Jew, some middle-eastern ones, a couple of different sorts of Jews, the Jewish emperor of the region, etc. I'm not suggesting that Chabon got carried away here, as this is really what he's good at. There are also elephants and vikings. And this is a very funny book.

Or rather, it's funny until about three quarters of the way through, when the author seems to have decided to hurry up and finish, and make sure all the loose ends were neatened up. I'll forgive him for that, as the story remained entertaining, lightweight as it was.

And the ending leaves room for a whole bunch of sequels. I would like to see something on the order of the "Captain Alatriste" series by Perez-Reverte, another great writer who found that lightening up a little was good for repeat sales. It could happen. I still do hope that Chabon's got another major book in the works, and won't be slacking off by exclusively writing these lightweights. (If he does though, I'll read them.)

This photo is of Desiree again. I keep finding more cool pictures of her. We keep in touch, so there's a pretty good chance I'll photograph her again, though currently she's about 3000 miles from San Diego.

Something interesting in that Grimwood book: The potter needed to be bound in order to focus. She wanted to be tightly tied in order to prevent her from continuing to work when she was far overextended and had lost track of her intent.

This is the first time I've heard of bondage that had no sexual aspect. It's likely someone else has tried to explain it before but I didn't understand - the use of bondage for therapy is a really interesting concept. If anyone wants to explain further or illuminate this I'd be happy to publish it in the comments section.

OK, I exposed a couple of 4x5 film sheets yesterday and developed them in the new HP CombiPlan (which despite its name is merely an invertible plastic box with a plastic device inside to hold the film). The results were less than stellar. It is messy, though it doesn't leak - I've since figured out that 34 oz. of developer from the graduated cylinder won't cause it to overflow. The film ended up facing the same way in the same slot, so that was my error. The one that did get the chem had some chemical drag marks on it - I think pre-wetting the film will fix that. Anyway, I exposed two more today and loaded them and will develop tomorrow (along with Julia's B&W film) and see if I've done better. For $80, a bit of Swedish plastic seems way overpriced. But it's the design one really pays for, not the materials. However, if the design sucks...

This is Jackie, lightly bound in Minneapolis last year. Very pretty girl. Quiet. I don't pretend to know or understand her, but she certainly made some good photographs with me.

That book I hinted at last post kicks ass. Jon Courtenay Grimwood has written four other books that I've read, and they were all exceptional. Three were a middle-eastern trilogy in a future quite different than what one might expect. The other was even stranger. This one, End of the World Blues is in his fine tradition of inhabiting worlds that the rest of us need some hints to perceive. A few highlights: Brit Iraq vet in Tokyo; cosplay girl with knives, a cat and an end of the world home some miles above and hundreds of thousands of years beyond here and now; Japanese biker gangs; London inhabited by Chechen mafiya; Yakuza; drugs; therapeutic BDSM; a potter and living treasure; and an Irish bar called Pirate Mary's after our hero's biggest mistake. Another that I bought yesterday and finished today.

Today was one of those depressing holidays for me. I usually get invited to dinner on Thanksgiving, but usually decline because I'd just be depressed there too and drag everyone along with me. It's a seasonal thing and won't really go away until after January. Had it so long I know all about it and know that this too shall pass. In all it wasn't bad. One of the things I did was finally get around to some film that's been sitting.

This is of Kristin Anne, who was photographed so long ago she probably doesn't even remember it. More of her coming, and more of Julia as well.

Cynn, keeping Angela in line. No mean feat, that.

Well, I finally loaded up the can with four rolls of Rebecca and put a couple sheets of 4x5 into the new HP Combi-System box. I shall have some new negatives tomorrow. The 4x5 has no pretty girls on it, however. That film has been in the holders in my camera bag for a few months, so I'm just hoping it hasn't been fogged. I'd like the sledgehammer pix to work out. Gotta start somewhere. I figure exposing film on anything is better than not exposing film at all. At least there's somewhere to improve from that way.

Four days off with no plans except to catch up with the rollfilm and get the models what they deserve, then to expose more 4x5 in the studio and see if I can remember any of my product photo classes. I started shopping for a heavier tripod and head today, but decided that that's only an excuse not to do anything. Use what you have; get what you need. Living up to my own advice isn't easy. Anyway, I'm sort of looking forward to seeing how it worked.

Short post. Bedtime. Got a new good book that I'll tell y'all about if it stays good all the way through.

Generally, I'm not keen on short-story books. It's like snacking rather than eating a meal. I am however keen on Jonathan Lethem, so when I came across a paperback version of Men and Cartoons, I picked it up. Yesterday, I seem to remember. Well, I finished it this evening. If reviewing a novel is difficult, reviewing a collection of short stories is ... uh ... more difficult. I won't. If you've read Lethem, I could say "typically Lethem" and get the point across. If not, then "really weird" seems somehow inadequate. I liked it a lot and finished it in a day, ignoring the other six or so books in work. Take that for what it's worth.

I've mentioned that I live in a warehouse. Actually the former dispatch office for a warehouse. I moved in temporarily ten years ago because of the proximity to my kids (just after the divorce), the low cost, and the high ceilings that make it an adequate live-work photo studio. The place was furnished as temporary places are, with cast-offs which included a couple of big leather club chairs, some antique end tables and two excellent couches. The couches were claimed by my cat and me for sleeping, and after too much abuse and too little cleaning and repair, they finally got trucked off to the dump.

Still needing a place to sleep, I dragged out a camping cot I'd kept around for guests. (I probably need to explain here why I didn't just buy a bed: Cats sleep on beds and shed. A cot can be tipped on its side to discourage that. Beds are among the most awkward things to move to another place, i.e. wherever I retire to.) Anyway, after six months on that cot I found a few minor drawbacks. First, it was so narrow that one elbow or the other would always lie atop a side tube if I slept on my back. Second, it was so low it couldn't function as any form of couch. And third, should I ever again get lucky, it would make a horrible place to fuck.

So, ever the thinker, I ordered a bigger camp cot from Amazon and received it yesterday. This mother is huge! Seven and a half feet long by three and a half feet wide! It has a load capacity of 600 pounds, which is enough for me and three chix - four, if they're skinny! Actually, it's only wide enough for me and two chix to lie down if we spoon into a D'Brain sandwich. Boffing is entirely possible (news, as it happens!). The cot is a Teton Sports product and does in fact fold up and fit in a bag. Rubber-damped steel legs, very sturdy aluminum side rails and 600 denier heavy nylon cloth. It makes me feel like an eight-year-old on his first camping trip, the way I get lost on that huge, aircraft carrier-like surface.

This is Candy, photographed in Los Angeles earlier this year.

P.S. I'm pulling down blog posts starting way back at the beginning. Seems to me that a blog is essentially an ephemeral thing and shouldn't contain 600 archived posts. The plan is to eventually get to the point of having maybe thirty to sixty recent posts only.

Kiss THAT, D'Brain!

Alright, this blog is lacking the naughtiness of the early posts. That stuff used to be fun to write. Don't know where the evolution took a wrong turn, but it most surely has. I mean - the economy? What's up with that? (What's up is obvious - it's what's on my mind when I write.) But it's got to be a huge bore to read. OK, I know most just come for the pictures, but those are the easy part for me. The words are the hard part.

So I know it's a problem and am working through my issues.

"Recession." We have them every once in awhile. They're good times to have cash and bad times to have debt. Jobs get scarce, the consumer culture wobbles and the stock market stumbles. Things get pretty scary and people sometimes panic.

Avoid buying stuff and pay off debt instead. Don't give up the dayjob. If you have to buy stuff, shop around. There are inventories that must be cleared and deals can be had. But it's still better to hold cash.

If you're in the stock market, remember: "Buy low - sell high." That's too easy to forget in times like these.

---------

OK, to get past all that sensible stuff, I'm been knocked over (figuratively) by a tiny motorcycle I've seen around town. I finally got a chance to talk to the owner about it. Basically, it's a 49cc four-stroke motorcycle with a manual four speed transmission. It's a tiny naked bike called the Xkeleton Trickster. They run about $1650, shipped to your door and are basically a ripoff by the Chinese factory that makes both, of the Sachs Madass which sells for $1000 more. Same parts, same everything - except the decal and color options.

Slower than dirt, but the same company that imports them sells a 125cc kit that bolts right on for about $250 additional and claims speeds of 60mph with it. I'd imagine improvements could be made by bolting in a Japanese engine (the weakest part of Chinese bikes), or with the 125cc kit, a larger carb. Beyond that, there's nothing much on this bike that doesn't have to be there.

I'm enamored. Not sold yet, but enamored.

I am however, enamored of Angela, shown here pensively lying around naked.

The party last night was different than most in the warehouse next door. First, it was a benefit event to raise money for breast cancer research, so ticket prices were very high. Because of the recent fires and such, they were actually lower than advertised in order to bring the crowd. As it nominally started at 4PM, the early guests were there for the art and fashion shows, and were generally well-dressed and older.

As the evening wore on (there were some gaps in activity) the crowd became younger, the music louder and better and the alcohol flowed more freely. And other stuff too, according to the woman that ran security (a little too tightly in my opinion). Finally around midnight Soul in the Machine played and the little ravey kids started making ant trails toward the dancefloor, heads bobbing and feet rolling with the optional hula hoops and accessories. I love watching these dance-machines get lost in the music and vibe. And other stuff.

There was more skin on display last night than at any previous party. Might have been the weather or the abundance of fashiony models in the show, but skirts were extremely high, necklines extremely low and acres of fine young girlflesh were on display for those of us who appreciate it. Yeah, I'm nasty.

I left around 2AM, but the party continued, winding down around 4 or 5 I guess. Despite the thumping through the walls and ceiling I fell asleep. And woke up after 10AM. That's about five hours later than usual, by the way.

This is Myra during our first shoot in Kiel, Germany. I've been back a couple of times since and seen or photographed her each time. But it's been a few years now and I need another excuse to get back there.

This was the very first exposure of Ashley in Winnipeg a couple of years ago. She'd been very excited about the shoot, possibly because I was traveling to Winnipeg just to photograph her, and wanted good makeup. I offered to pay for half. The next time I photographed her she wore no makeup and looked just as good, so I'm not convinced it was money well spent, but it probably gave her confidence.

She came to the motel and I met her in the lobby. Sometimes it's good to give them a chance to run if they are at all timid. She wasn't timid, so we went to the room, she stripped and I faced her into this door mirror.

Later her friend Chantel showed up and I had her undress and join in as well. There are some pretty hot pictures of the two of them in the archives here.

When she first saw the results of the shoot she said "maybe I am an OK model." Yeah, she's OK.

Preparations are ongoing for the party next door that is slated to start in an hour and a half. They've been continuous, 24-hours-a-day, for two days now. Hard to get any sleep. And I can't really leave as they want to run a wire to my land-line for a credit card machine, too. The music is gonna be spectacular. The Ex and her S/O will be coming as they've been beating me up to tell them when a party will happen. This one is a benefit for breast cancer research, so the crowd will be even more eclectic than usual - heavy on women, too.

Let's talk a little about real estate values. I know, I know - way off the expected topic. Anyway, a friend recently told me that real estate values will bottom around 2010. Or she said that's what the forecasts say.

But real estate is not real estate is not real estate. For example, if there exists one point of land in La Jolla sticking out into the Pacific Ocean it's price may have been ten million last year. But in the last year there certainly may have been enough people making enough money that there are now more people who can afford and want that unique piece of property. It could legitimately bring one hundred million this year. It is unique, desirable and there will never be a comparable piece of property. And there may be enough people competing for it that can afford it.

At the other end there is a little two-bedroom house in Nowhere, South Dakota. It was listed at ten thousand dollars last year. And didn't sell. Let's say the owner reduced it to eight thousand this year and still hasn't sold it. Even after 2010 the property will be no more desirable than it is right now, so rather than rebound, it will likely go down further and eventually be abandoned.

Somewhere in the middle, a developer built a hundred nice houses in a suburb of, say, Dallas. They were priced at two hundred thousand each. Because of the sub-prime fiasco they are now listed at one hundred-eighty thousand and still not selling. It is very likely that these will eventually begin to sell and prices can once again be raised. Maybe the turn-around will be in 2010. This sort of property is in demand by people with families looking for a safe and convenient place to raise kids mostly, and the demand will continue.

Again, somewhere in the middle are the lofts in old buildings in St. Paul - the places I'm considering for retirement. Their prices are dropping right now because, like the new development, there were too many converted for the housing market. In this case it's likely that prices will rebound as more sell and it begins to appear that there will be a shortage.

The difference between a new development and a loft in an old building is that no one is making old buildings - they are finite, while developments are not.

Bunching up all real estate into one forecast can be deceiving. And while it may well be that 2010 will be some sort of real estate watershed year, individual real estate deals are going to vary far about that mean based on the different circumstances surrounding each of them.

This is a photograph of London Andrews made in my studio when she visited awhile back.

Well, I gave it a shot and went to work. Not too bad, but dizzy enough to call it a day and come home again. Tomorrow should be fine unless there's a relapse. One thing I've found out is that you can't push the flu. Trying to "act well" won't make me well.

OK, sort of writing as the day goes on. I walked over to Chuey's for lunch. Felt faint when I got there, but felt great after eating. Might be because I haven't really eaten since yesterday. Anyway, the lunch crowd there is interesting. Navy folks, of course. Plus a bunch of local businessmen. The guys that have businesses in the barrio are entrepreneurs. Low overhead startups, mostly having to do with ship fitting, mechanics, smallish production, and stuff like that. Good guys to know. But I don't - I only live here.

This is Lindsay experiencing the little death. Some take that term as facetious, but I'm pretty sure the Ex could have killed me that way if she'd wanted. Lindsay lived.

The flu got me yesterday. I woke up dizzy and nauseous. It remained pretty mild, but I couldn't stay vertical for more than a few minutes and effectively spent the day in bed. This morning I feel better, but still light-headed, so I am staying home again.

Using sick time feels like weakness to me. I hate admitting that a virus beat me up. But the dayjob allocates a significant number of sick days for each employee and I know people there who say that if one doesn't use them, it's like giving away money. Still and all, if I'm not sick - and even if I am - I hate calling in sick. But even sitting here at the laptop is making me woozy.

So back to bed.

This is Linda Tran, bound to please her web fans.

Jared Diamond's Collapse has been good for me. It removed a vague distaste I'd had for "environ- mentalists." I'm still not too keen on treehuggers, but have a great respect for those, like Diamond, who have looked closely at history to find the pitfalls we're currently running into headlong. It's a powerful book and worth reading for anyone concerned with human life.

We're gonna try something new here. I'll ship my copy to the first person who comments with mailing address (in the U.S.). I won't publish the address, just send you the book. **GAME OVER - it's been claimed!**

My current reading list includes:

"Out Stealing Horses" by Per Petterson, "Dhalgren" by Samuel R. Delany, "Between the Eyes" by David Levi Strauss, "Memoirs of a Muse" by Lara Vapnyar and "On Ugliness" edited by Umberto Eco. Depending on cost and hassle, I may give them away as I finish them and announce it as well.

This is Emalie, photographed in a beautiful old hotel in Nevada several years ago. I really really want to photograph her again, but she's elusive.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANGELA! Twenty-one years old today. And too far away, in Newfoundland, to give the proper birthday spanking. I'll take a rain check. This picture was made when she was still eighteen.

Back to work. I'll try to lock down my dayjob travel schedule today, so I can start to plan a winter road trip. Haven't decided exactly where I'll be going yet, but it should be a full two weeks this time. Probably back to St. Paul to investigate "winter." This is a phenomenon I've lost track of since I left the area in 1972.

Yesterday was the Marine Corps' Birthday. Today is Armistice Day, or these days Veteran's Day. I was born on Armistice Day fifty-seven years ago. The upside was that I used to get my birthday off from school when it fell during the week. The downside was that for ten years in the Marines I was seldom able to appreciate my birthday due to the Marine Corps Birthday Ball the night before. Four of those were spent in Asia, far from home and in a place difficult to get a date without simply hiring one. In Asia the rule was to get shit-faced and pass out, provided you didn't have "the duty" in the next 18 hours or so. I usually did have the duty - actually in Asia due to the nature of my jobs "the duty" was about twelve hours of every single day. Staying sober and being alone in Asia is also not a great way to appreciate ones birthday.

I think getting older sort of makes birthdays less rare and thus less valuable. I don't really do anything different than any other day, except answer the phone calls from my kids and Ex. Last night I ordered myself a couple of birthday presents online: Four pairs of SmartWool light hiking crew socks and a handmade harness leather belt. Today I did the laundry so I'd have socks until they arrive.

At the laundromat, a guy wearing a "U.S.M.C. Retired" baseball cap tried to bum a buck from me. I said no. He asked why. I said because I didn't want to. He made the rounds of the other patrons and said thank you very much to me on his way out. I told him that it was the cap. Wearing a Marine Corps cap while panhandling was disgraceful. He said he'd just got out of jail and they wouldn't give him his wallet back. I told him to go see Father Joe. He said he didn't need Father Joe. I said look at yourself - you need something. He said he'd been in a war. I told him that this is San Diego - every guy our age has been in a war and everyone has problems. Then he left calling me a Christian.

And that folks, is why I don't just install my own washer/dryer. It's all about the experiences and stories.

And after that pretty good punchline, I should mention that the photo is of Julia. I haven't even developed the film of her from the most recent visit. And that too is disgraceful.

P.S. We figured out who made that picture two posts below. Jason Perkins, a photographer friend, stayed here for a few months way back when. And Lexi visited here for overlapping months. That does look like his work, so it could have been shot here or in Billings on one of the occasions that we were all together. And he's the sort who would put bare processed film in the cupboard. And as he was the one that paid for the cupboard, I guess that was his prerogative.

Finished up Martin Millar's The Good Fairies of New York last night. It is a rollicking good book of light-hearted nature and fine imagination. No world-shaking revelations; no heavy (or other) philosophy; no cataclysmic warning of the coming of the end. Just a fairy tale of fine imagination. It does have sex, violence, violins, whiskey, bag ladies and Greek history. And more stuff. Recommended unequivocally.

My own favorite fairy Angela, playing to the crowd (actually, only me and the camera) in St. John's, Newfoundland awhile back. She was here in March and I'm really starting to miss her. She might come back in April.

By the way ... HAPPY BIRTHDAY U.S.M.C. Two hundred thirty-two years of ass-kicking, death and destruction. Semper Fi!

This is kind of embarrassing. I found a roll of developed B&W film exposed with a 645 camera in a cupboard tonight. This is one of the images of Lexi that was on it. I know the girl well and went to her wedding a few years back in Louisville. But I do not remember shooting these pictures. They are all wrong for me. Makeup is wrong (i.e. lipstick beyond the lip line), it's done in a studio with a white background and girly lighting, and it's overly posey. And it's T-Max film. I never use T-Max. But I probably did shoot it. I still have no idea whether it was in Billings or in Boulder City, as both places have studios with this setup. It was not here, for sure. Anyway, if I did not expose this film and either of one or two other guys who were around back then and working with Lexi claims it, I'll let you know, or give him credit or something.

It's been years. The film has been there unprotected for years. There was some dust and fingerprints and it took some spotting. I sure hope I don't find other film sitting around like that.

MYSTERY SOLVED! SEE TWO POSTS UP.

Busy day, catching up with everything after the short trip to Stockton. Got told that I will be going to South Korea before the Holidays, but for two weeks rather than one. Last I'd heard, that trip was canceled. I'll probably have to take the time off early next year rather than lose it this year. And Saudi Arabia is still on, though with no clear schedule. And now Israel, near the end of February - that one will actually happen. Shit, I'll probably have to get a duplicate passport now.

On the photography front, I ordered and have received the HP CombiPlan T, a daylight tank for developing 4x5 film. I've put the old leaky daylight tank away for good. Now all I have to do is start making photographs again. Of what, I have no clue. Only that the format will be 4x5 and B&W. Naturally, that won't travel well by airplane. The world and I are becoming more and more incompatible.

The Levi Strauss book mentioned below is heavy, depressing and difficult. It's also has an obvious political lean. But it has profound truths as well. Salgado came up again in the third essay - he is one of the outstanding photographers of the age in my opinion. The book puts into words why - something I haven't been able to do very well. But the book isn't good to read while I'm in a personal depression as it is both depressing by nature and reinforces that there are people out there doing so much more than I can ever hope to do.

This is Desiree, playing with herself in my motel room in Long Beach. Hmmm - I'll bet Salgado hasn't made a picture like this one. (But I wonder whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.)

P.S. The umlaut didn't work. Back on the first page. Any code monkeys out there have a way to keep spiders and bots off this blog?

It looks like the umlaut worked! No more first-page listings on Google! In other current news, I'll be spending another day here in Stockton. The problems are a little more complex than I expected, but we're getting there.

And in yet other news, I dropped by the nearby bookstore and picked up a copy of Between the Eyes, a collection of 'photography and politics' essays by David Levi Strauss. Introduction by John Berger, the critic we all love to hate. It's therapeutic to read profound thoughts by intelligent people, particularly if they call into question one's own beliefs. (The same reason all photographers must read Sontag's On Photography or Berger's Ways of Seeing.)

Edit: The first chapter is an important dissection of the criticism of Sebastao Salgado - the criticism that he makes human suffering too beautiful. I'd heard and disregarded the complaint before, but the discussion in the first chapter is worth the price of the book. But I still do not like Berger, and find that he is still far too full of himself. I didn't much like "Ways of Seeing" either, but it did make me think. If you don't read those who piss you off, you'll never grow, nor see the whole of anything. But I still don't like him. Levi Strauss on the other hand, seems like a very smart fellow. Funny that Berger would be asked to write the preface...

Anyway, I'll let you know how it works out when I've read it. Early night tonight, as it will be a very early morning tomorrow. But first, some Mexican food for dinner, washed down with a couple of Negro Modellos.

This is Lapis, photographed enjoying herself in my Chicago hotel room a couple of years back.

Yeah, I know - there's a friggin' umlaut over the "u." I put that there to see if I can get the spiders to bypass that word and keep this blog off the search engines. When I put up the "nofollow" code in July it did great things. The blog dropped completely off Google. The code's still there, but now the blog is on the front page for several searches, and I'd rather it be a bit more private than that. So we'll see if that umlaut does any good. I could probably find Latin variants for more of the letters too, if I have to.

Anyway, I avoided L.A. on the drive up to Stockton by the expedient of taking I-15, then U.S. 395, then jumping west to Bakersfield. It added a hundred miles or so, but I think it was worth it. There's no good way to avoid rush hour traffic through L.A. except to leave between 2AM and 3:30AM. So I got to see a lot of the Mojave Desert and some neat two-lane highways populated by RVs and semi trucks, all of which were going faster than I.

Tomorrow I show up at the customer's place and see if I can fix some equipment they need to deploy their helicopters. If things go very well, I'll head home tomorrow. If they go as expected, I'll drive back on Wednesday. If it all goes to hell, I'll get home when it gets all straightened out one way or another.

Linda's the one on her back. The other is Josielyn, I think.

Off to the Barnes & Noble just behond the hotel...

Tomorrow I'll be driving up to Stockton on dayjob business. It's short enough (450 miles each way) that it's OK to drive and I'm sort of in a driving mood these days. In fact I've been thinking about another drive over the holidays. And that one's been sifted down to either visiting St. Paul again to see what Lowertown is like in winter, or taking a large format camera and exploring the western edge of New Mexico from Lordsburg up to Farmington. I've never really been in that part of the state - probably driven hell-for-leather up or down it one time or another, but never spending any time looking.

This is another of Angela. When she's all tied up like this, she can't get into too much trouble.

Finished Collapse by Jared Diamond, author of the excellent Guns, Germs and Steel. "Collapse" has been out awhile but whenever I picked it up to look it looked like a downer. And it was. The truth can be very, very scary. While the book reads like an academician's work (and it is), one shouldn't forget when reading, that the author has an agenda. Authors have agendas, so that's not a surprise - just keep in mind that there are other viewpoints when reading this book. Personally, I think that this book, like Al Gore's movie, while flawed, serves the function of making people think beyond the tips of their own noses. Not that this always amounts to anything. Read the book to see why. OK, just sorta recommended - if you've got patience and the ability to read a schoolbook and care about what happened really at Easter Island.

OK, with the "Ugly" book and this one, I really need to go find a happy bubblegum book soon.

This is Candy all splayed out on a motel room bed in West Hollywood earlier this year.

Reading Umberto Eco's On Ugliness. I didn't realize he'd done one On Beauty as well. I'll have to find that. The book is mostly a collection of Western art and writers talking about the subject, going back as far as the Old Testament. Religion enters into the discussions a whole lot, as most of Western history is about religions. I'll tell you more if I finish the book - it's a difficult read.

This morning I had breakfast with an extremely good photographer friend who nevertheless is stumbling when photographing nudes. "Practice," I suggested. I remember the first time I photographed a buck-naked girl. I guess I was sorta shook up about it. Got me an "A" in the class assignment though. I think the deal was that if you were photographing a nude of the interesting gender, getting the exposure right was a big thing and worth an "A." I do wish I still had those chromes, but they've been lost in the mists of pre-history now. They might even have been Kodachromes.

This is Myra, photographed in Hamburg a few years back in a bordello converted to a mostly gay hotel. Her recommendation of the place caused me to check in for four nights. I was the only guy eating breakfast alone those four mornings.

So what's the attraction of bondage photography, you ask? Well, from the point of view of the model, I'm not real sure. I suppose some like the pictures and I know many like being tied up and helpless in a safe situation. From my own perspective, it's really fun to handle the girls while tying them up. I mean, look at that line through her crotch. I did that! And the ones around her boobies, too. How can this not be fun? In the case of Little Robin here, I also smacked her ass in the process, as it seemed a totally consistent thing to do and she either didn't mind too much, or sorta liked it. It's just real hard to say no to an opportunity to handle girl-flesh.

I've pretty much quit shooting how. But things like this tempt me to start up again. Not so much the photographs, though they generally get a good reception from the girls and the audience. More or less the chance to exercise my dirty old manness, yet be appreciated for it. Still and all, that seems kinda fraudulent. I suppose if I'm open about the motives it wouldn't be all that bad...

It's November! The Marine Corps Birthday on the tenth, my birthday a day later and Thanksgiving all rolled in with the beginning of Winter. I look forward to birthdays again after decades of ignoring them. Each one gets me another year closer to retirement. I know, I know, that retirement thing is an obsession. Some folks see it as a major step closer to death - I guess I do too - but mostly I see it as an escape from an imposed schedule.

Time is the most valuable asset. That old saw, "time is money" is flawed in that it emphasizes money, implying that one should sell time for money. And while that's necessary for everyone, being it's so valuable and all wouldn't it be better to have, hoard and use one's time selfishly? With enough time, one can make stories - the only other thing one ultimately has. For me this freedom from an imposed schedule is still accompanied by a fear that I may waste that time rather than use it to make more stories. This is something I have to think about a lot more...

BonBon in our first shoot together. I now really wish I'd used bigger film so this photo wasn't so flat. BonBon deserved more than flat pictures.