work.

more annieyrus from the large format final. I really like the set I have of anniey, because the colors and her attitude come out really well. someday, I'd like to continue this project with more people at the same spot, and with the 4x5.

so that's all for now. I leave you with this spoken word poem by sailor j.

There’s a spot just above her lip soft and true to the touch.
There’s a place on her chin that she shaved and her whiskers grew back not so girl thin.
There’s a time of night when she’ll take off her clothes and let anyone see,
And a time of night when he won’t.
There’s a day almost every week when she wouldn’t mind being a pretty girl.
There’s a club he goes out to where you can see him dancing all night with the girls there without being scared.
There’s a curve on his hip that she can’t stand to look at in the mirror.
There’s this look in the eyes of the people who meet her
And wonder
Because there’s this very strange rut called gender that she needed to get out of
And now all those eyes are watching him teeter on the edge,
There’s this hard to reach ledge where the world put a box of what they think of him
And labeled it with her name, and now she can’t seem to reach it
Even up on his toes,
Even in her old pointe shoes,
And it makes him collapse back in to her,
Afraid.
The world sees him and they want to know, “What to do you call that?”
And, “Stay away from it, kids.”
There’s a point in his life where she said, “I just don’t fit.”
And she took it all off right then.
There’s a man, by any definition, shadowing her girl, and a woman writhing inside her man.
There’s a highly raised eyebrow, and a role she can’t stand.
And there’s graffiti on the mirror, on the locker, on the bathroom door,
Circling his wrists, ankles, and neck.
There’s a place on his back, where, if you rested your hand
You would feel in the skin and the muscle, and in him
The need for another few words in this world to let us slide between boy and girl.
She is so himself, with my hand resting there,
Out of her short skirts and into the bare
And mommy tells little girl to keep her underwear on and how pretty she is,
A supermodel age four with her long, long hair and never to cut it and always to be sweet.
And to stay out of dirt.
There’s a very curt comment made by his dad when he ceased to understand her at all.
There is no spot on her body where she turns from boy to girl,
Every square inch of skin unfurled.
She is the boy who redefines free, no more butch than me,
Curled on his peak just above all the deep, false rules.

new and semi-old

yesterday, we had lunch at Soho before I was supposed to work. Luckily, I got out of working because I found out the new girl asked if she could just switch days because she had a "shoot thing"... my boss said "sure!" and I was fucked out of having my friday off. I had a "shoot thing" to do too, bitch ass.

anyway...
I had a delicious burger, we split a berry shortcake for dessert, and I'm loving my digital camera by my side.

I'm still pretty damn sick, and have actually gotten worse again. There's a barbeque this afternoon with most of the fun kids from work, which should be a great time.
I'm hosting at work all week, which will make me a raging bitch. Hopefully it won't affect anything else.


This is from the large format final. The lovely, Anniey Rus. posed for me out at osama's hideout, and I really really like what turned out from it.

I'll be posting more from this final as I scan them into my computer, and I'll continue to add new photos.



tomorrow, I'll put up whatever I get from the barbeque. Hopefully it'll be good. we'll see....