ERIC CASSÉE

I am an artist inspired by colors and drama. I also have a large furry dog that really likes me.

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2012-05-20

eclipse

when i was a young lad, my dad got a bitchin pair of binoculars one year for Christmas, or his birthday, or fathers day, or he just bought them. i can’t remember exactly. he kept them in his little cupboard with his cameras and a considerable zoom lens. we were not supposed to use them without a certain level of supervision, so for the most part they came out on camping excursions or sightseeing trips. of course, my brothers and i did not always adhere to these guidelines, especially since both my parents worked during the day by the time we were in middle school. so we would break them out occasionally to look across the street and spy on people, or just mess around looking for birds or whatever. we soon discovered that there is not a whole lot you can do with a pair of binoculars without some actual far away stuff to look at. so that ended as quickly as it had started.

one of the things i have always been grateful that my father instilled in me was a very distinct love and respect for nature. when i was very small he would hold me next to the window at night before i went to bed to look at the stars, or try and count them. when we went camping we would do the same. in places like Rocky Mountain National Park, or in the middle of Wyoming somewhere, in those high wide open spaces the sky is black as ink and the stars are so numerous and intense you can see by them. and lying on my back staring into the sky i would feel something i could not explain then, and probably can’t articulate well now either. but it was as if my eyes were opened to the truth. i felt like i was a part of something so vast and great it could not possibly be understood. i would visualize the earth, spinning around, hurtling through space at an impossible speed… then i would imagine looking down on it from above, among billions of other heavenly objects, and suddenly anything that occupied my thoughts, my life, my existence no longer mattered. it just seemed so meaningless to bother with any of the petty human things we fill our lives with every single day.

one night some years later my brothers and i were messing around in the back yard around dusk. chasing lightning bugs as they hovered in the edges of the woods, among the light august fog that would descend before sunset. it was one of those warm humid nights in the summer when the kids are out of school, the air smelled like fresh mowed grass and barbecue, and absolutely nothing could be wrong in the world. as the sun went down and day finally became night, the moon came up- and it was as if the sun had rose again. big, huge, full… like out of a halloween cartoon. it was so large you could almost make out the sea of tranquility and the craters around it.

my dad brought out the binoculars and the zoom lens.

we sat on the porch and took turns looking at the moon. we could see so much detail… it felt like it was within reach. and if not within reach a very short balloon ride would do it. it made me feel small again. i realized that HOLY CRAP THAT IS A PLANET. RIGHT THERE. A FREAKING PLANET ROTATES AROUND OUR PLANET. and we can see it. it is there EVERY day. it rises and sets. it lights our night. it affects our tides, our bodies, our moods, our entire planet. and we forget that… this thing of nature that we take for granted. one of many natural miracles among us. we get back to our lives. summer ends. we go back to school. we grow up and get jobs. we buy things. we become responsible for those things… and so on and so forth. but today as i was pretty much letting my sunday pitter out, my neighbor came banging on my door. “are you watching the eclipse?” no- what eclipse? i didn’t even know it was going on. so i hustled outside to see it. my neighbor had brought over an old x-ray film to view it through (works awesome FYI). and so we took turns, looking up at this amazing natural miracle occurring right before our eyes. i was reminded of those warm summer nights in Virginia looking up at the sky. i went inside and got my zoom lens…
2012-01-03

home for the holidays

for Christmas, i flew back to the Washington D.C. area to stay with my parents who live in Reston, VA. i love to go back and see my family. it is one thing to talk to them on the phone, but there is a lot more value in some face to face time. for some reason my parents and i have an amazing relationship on the phone, but somehow once i am around for a few days, some of the old family habits creep back in and we revert to talking to each other as if we are back in the early high school years. this is good and bad i suppose. it’s good because my mom cooks gourmet meals for me and reminds me to wear a jacket and stuff like that, but also strange when i do something they may not agree with and the discipline tone comes out. it’s weird. and for god’s sake don’t get us talking politics or religion.

also, my middle brother has kids now, so it’s kind of a necessity to get back home and see them. every time i see them they are different… and bigger. and of course, watching my brother handle his kids is absolutely hilarious to me. you understand, this is the same brother i have grown up with and witnessed performing all sorts of irresponsible activities (most of which i was a part of) and it is awesome to see him all of the sudden be all fatherly and such. it’s kind of like watching evil knievel tell his kid to “slow down… take it easy..”

one of our favorite activities as young little scamps was to take our various toy cars and trucks, stuff them with rags soaked in lighter fluid, and use firecrackers or hairspray to set them ablaze as they rolled down our very steep driveway. there are also episodes involving marble fights, just plain actual fights, bb guns (my fault), the occasional torture of our younger brother, and the accidental destruction of some part of the house. when we were even younger, there was of course: lego wars involving the mutual destruction of each others creations, play wrestling, building forts, cooking toast on the heating registers, cartoons, double stuff oreos, actual wrestling, peeing in the woods, building dams in the creek, exploring construction sites slightly illegally, and the occasional torture of our younger brother.

now everyone is grown up, well physically anyway, and there are responsibilities, jobs, mortgages, significant others (well.. not for me…) you know- reality setting in and the world attempting to crush our souls with the weight of survival. but when we get around each other within those family boundaries, it is pretty funny. we tease our parents about shit they don’t remember doing. we consume alcoholic beverages (which somehow my parents have learned a great deal about) together without having to pretend they don’t effect us in each others presence… and my brothers and i still eventually revert to some form of combat. usually because some smart ass gives us all a weapon of some sort for Christmas, and when we notice that all three of us got a same sized package, we rush to open them and arm ourselves first. past examples have included nerf dart guns, ping pong ball guns, potato guns, water guns, disc guns- it goes on- and once these packages are opened, complete mayhem erupts in the living room to the terror and or delight of those present whom have neglected to take the proper cover. this year, it was not a weapon, but helicopters. yes there were helicopters buzzing about chasing the dog, pissing off my sister in law, and crashing randomly into household objects. fun was had by all. we also had a video game. modern warfare 3. i am relatively video game naive. i haven’t had a gaming device in years and years, and my only experience is playing occasionally at friends houses. but based on that basic experience i thought i would of course demolish my brothers whom are now responsible functioning adults in their 30’s and how in the world would they ever have time to play games intended for cocky ass punk 13 years olds who taunt you mercilessly with expletives you would be shocked to hear from someone in prison.

so yes, we retreated to my youngest brothers apartment and i was summarily slaughtered over and over and over again by my suddenly video game nerd brothers. not cool. i almost had to revert to high school rules and start punching people. it is really frustrating to be asking about controls or how to aim while every 10 seconds someone shoots you in the face with an assault rifle and laughs at you could you lust let me live for one freaking minute you f*#@ing assfaces.

the repeated slaughtering aside, it was a great trip. being in the area it reminded me why i miss my family so much, and also reminded me why i left… i have some painful memories associated with the area, not because of my family- no way- but relating to heartbreak and the sort of mundane existence i see there sometimes. it’s kind of depressing to walk into a bar, or restaurant, or whatever and see the same people doing the same things they were 10 years ago. it’s all the same, except lots of people are REALLY fat and there are new houses and office buildings everywhere. i get restless there, like i am not doing anything, and the whole khaki pants happy hour corporate lifestyle makes me want to drive a car off a cliff. i do realize maybe my life would be easier if i just sort of joined the race- easier for me and those who support me- but somehow i just can’t do it. and i have tried. so being there sort of reinvigorated me to make 2012 a great year. unless of course it is armageddon time. in which case i am also eagerly prepared. but i am back out west, and excited to start new projects, meet new clients, and get this show on the road.

and now, some photos and such. let me preface these first few. these are scans my dad made from his gigantic archive of slides he took when my parents first got together. one thing i have always been wanting is to know who may parents were. and not really the sort of things that either of them could describe, but know them the way in know myself, my brothers, my friends. what they were like as young people.. i guess i can never really know that, but these types of photos help. look how COOL they were. my parents. cool.

check out my mom’s badass cut. it’s funny but that’s kind of how my hair looks now.. hmmm.

this is when they were starting out in newport news VA.

my dad as a pimp. please note the red couch and of course my dads shirt.

speechless.

my adorable mother in the backyard she loved.

my father and his 1962 Oldsmobile Starfire of which he was immensely proud.

this is me present day wearing one of my dad’s jackets from a 1980’s micheal j fox movie.

and smoking a cigar with my youngest brother ethan. cigar + scotch = really stinky.

me and my nephew asher, the coolest kid around. fyi…

asher and lucy love iPhones. lucy also loves rags. don’t try to understand- no one knows why.

i went back to our old house, the first one i have real memories from. it used to be yellow… my brothers and i shared the bedroom upper right. it still has the wallpaper my mom put in it.

cool new tunnel at dulles airport.

and finally i leave you with a classic. one of my best friends in the whole wide world, justin, has three beautiful children. traditionally, we get together at his place on christmas eve and cook a big meal and drink lots of wine. this year i took a few videos with the ol iPhone, and here is one of Mia, the youngest. i have mentioned Mia before, she is beautiful and amazing. she clings to me like a spider monkey the whole time i am visiting and i love it. this year, she had guinea pigs to show me, and a new joke to tell me.. enjoy.
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kids say the darndest things
2011-12-07

say cheese!
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better than bieber
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asian persuasion

as i may have mentioned before, my teacher slash mentor in my pursuit of photography is duc liao (www.ducliao.com). he is still mentoring me along the way, and it’s a lot like learning to play golf. the more you know, the more complicated it gets. i still have so much to learn, and so much of that knowledge to apply… i am very grateful to be so lucky to have someone who has achieved so much in the world of fashion photography as my teacher, and even more honored to have him as a very close friend. anyway, the reason i bring this up is that we recently worked on a small project together, which we do relatively often. usually this means i keep my mouth shut and watch what he does.

recently, we did a small budget shoot for a new and growing local magazine, vietLifestyles. duc is very committed to community, and he has a very Buddhist like approach to service to others. he is lending his talents to the magazine to help it grow and continue to enrich the community. to have someone like duc who spent 25 years in paris shooting for i-D, vogue, louis vuitton, hermes, celine, issey miyake.. (etc etc the list goes on for 15 years) to have this person contribute to such a fledgling magazine, well it is really amazing. recently duc was a judge for a model competition for the same magazine.. this particular shoot is for a pageant featuring local asian models. and since it is not the type of budget for a large studio, we converted a room in my house into a studio to shoot it. which is fine with me because i do all my testing there anyway.

here is a picture of duc:

duc now lives is scottsdale and has a beautiful wife and three gorgeous little girls. he left the fashion industry to live in the wide open spaces and see the sun, and opened a french bistro called scratch. if you are ever in scottsdale you must go there. amazing.

i digress again… anyway, the other day my house was filled with a large number of smiling, polite, and absolutely beautiful young women all competing in the pageant. the thing that instantly struck me as odd, was that they all were so close with each other, you would have thought they had known each other for years. but this was not the case. they had only met through previous engagements involved with promotion of the pageant. now, let me tell you something. i’ve worked with a lot of models. and i can tell you that if you were to put a bunch of american or french girls who are all competing for the same title in a room together, it would not be pretty. with a few exceptions, most would be catty, fake, and probably downright ruthless in the way that women are so accomplished at doing to each other. ah yes… passive aggression as fine as italian wine. but no- none of that. just giggling, laughing, singing, and camaraderie. amazing. here are the girls as they are arriving:

see that? sitting. together.

it is always a pleasure working with the group at vietLifestyles. it’s incredible. they show up with food, drinks, and payment. try finding that in a client. they are always polite, appreciative of the work, and so pleasant to be around.

here are the girls in their gowns:

what’s that you say? gee eric this is nice but i’ve seen pretty asian girls before… nothing out of the ordinary.. what else you got?

well. i’ll see you pretty asians and raise you pretty asians singing justin bieber. yeah. i got it like that.

check the videos below for the amazing vocal talents of the VietLifestyles pageant contestants and a little behind the scenes comedy…
2011-12-01

allie

threw together a quick shoot with allie cripe from photogenics while she was in town for thanksgiving. allie is one of those people who has such a distinct look that is it very hard to take a bad picture of her. editing is very difficult to say the least. i wanted to keep going with the dark look i have been experimenting with. the model just sort of emerging from darkness into light… but allie has such amazing skin, hair, eyes, everything… we just kept it simple and let her steal the show.

jamie stevens was also visiting from LA and she did hair, corinna cook for make-up, and wardrobe/props were done by shannon campbell.

here are some clever iPhone photos of allie getting ready:

hairstylist extraordinaire jamie stevens:

shannon loves her sweater:

corinna adding some final touches:

and from the final product:

see more at www.ericcassee.com
2011-11-21

clouds

during the summer, it is rare to see a good, acceptable form of accumulated condensation that one could actually qualify as a cloud. but now that the “winter” months are upon us, i am happy to welcome back my good friend, the cumulonimbus:

so today being so beautiful, it inspired me to get out and do something i rarely do. take pictures of the sky… or skyscapes?

i was pretty excited to get out, i love to road trip, and it’s been a long long time since i had a longish drive to just listen to the road hum by, and the wind rush around the car. and one thing i can say about living out west, is there is lots of space. and once you get free of all the red traffic lights and the endless grid of streets, it is hard not to floor the gas pedal and just go for it. so much open blue sky, cooler temperatures. it is officially motorcycle weather people. and that means speeding tickets… so i will be sticking with the toyota for now. plus, my dog hates to ride on motorcycles.

so yeah, i loaded up miss fluffy pants (my dog Reika) and we headed out free as birds to speed through the open country. i often look at other drivers faces when they go by, and i always notice who is pissed off, who is on the phone, who is in a hurry, who is fighting with their boyfriend/girlfriend (hilarious) and who looks like they are hammered. but i’ll tell you what, nothing gets more smiles and waves then a big white akita sticking her head out the window with her tongue hanging out of her mouth.. squinting into the wind. smiling from ear to ear. so to all of you who laughed and smiled as i drove by today, you are welcome.

i pulled over often, and this drove the dog insane because every time we stopped she thought we were getting out for party time, but most of the time i was close to a road, so i couldn’t let her get her white fang on. eventually we got somewhere safe enough for her to get out. dirt roads, middle of nowhere. she took off like it was free kitten day at the pet store. did i mention that Reika is afraid of gunfire? or anything that resembles gunfire? (like someone hitting a baseball, a table collapsing, a vacuum cleaner, or a skateboard landing on pavement). it is then that my 95 pound dog that is bred to fearlessly fight bears turns into a quivering panting mess. and did i mention that in arizona you are required by law to own at least 56 guns and to carry at least one on your belt next to your fanny pack and pager on which ever side of your giant gut is most comfortable with your fake army shirt tucked into your jeans from 1984 when you go to starbucks? cuz shit. you never know when someone may want to steal your double caff double sweet and low skim latte.

so upon getting out of the car finally, i saw this:

not a good sign. (ha. get it?) and my previously very excited and happy dog that was at this point quickly receding into the distance at approximately 35 miles per hour chasing a rabbit suddenly heard a very loud gunshot. (there must have been another dangerous yield sign threatening some damsel in distress). it sounded like a civil war cannon. needless to say, it did not go over well. and in about 12 seconds i saw this:

this is Reika hightailing it right back into the truck at full speed where she would remain cowering and shaking until i got in and closed the windows as we made our escape. not a good day for Reika.

i can only assume that the cowboy hatted gentleman that was going all dirty harry on cactus and aluminum signs was also frightened for some reason, because as he came around the corner in his truck he repeatedly made the mistake of disproportionately applying the gas while making incorrect steering inputs. silly guy, he was stuck spinning in circles.

but i did manage to take these.. i am in black and white phase…

eventually when i get a lot more of these, i may make a small collection for the website. i intend to head in this direction again, but somehow incorporating people portraits into them.

so for now, enjoy the clouds. and for you firearm junkies out there, remember: traffic signs don’t kill people, people with traffic signs kill people.
2011-11-08

cowboy joe

every now and then in life, if you are lucky, you will come across someone who is truly genuine. a real person absent of assumptions or ego, and these people are wonderful people to know not only because of who they are, but because they help remind us all what life is supposed to be about. at least that’s my opinion. this is a brief story about one such person, whom i like to call cowboy joe.

i first met cowboy joe a few years ago. i was assisting at the time, and i was working on a series of editorial spreads for the french magazine BIBA. the stylist, kanako koga (http://www.kanako-b-koga.com) wanted to really have a great environment to showcase the western themed clothes she was using, and since cowboy stuff was all the rage in paris at the time, they ended up shooting in arizona.

this is kanako, seen here trying on a pair of gucci onion ring glasses:

one of my many responsibilities during the week was picking her and her assistant tiphane up at 5:00 am and then driving to the location with a large trailer full of gear and clothing. it was during this time that i developed an appreciation for coffee and decided i need to learn some french because it was a little awkward there for a while. we shot all over the place, and despite the heat, the long hours, and being berated in words i could not understand except i knew they were bad because of the tone, it was a wonderful experience and a great time working with new people and making friends. (i would eventually have the honor of working with kanako and tiphane again in paris.) in addition to the above mentioned duties, i also was put in charge as a liaison between american businesses /contacts / location managers etc. that preferred to speak english. if you are at all familiar with arizona, and towns like apache junction or payson, i would highly recommend not walking up to cowboy types and speaking french.

and hence i came to meet cowboy joe. this is cowboy joe:

i call him cowboy joe because that is how i was introduced to him. i was asking a woman at a livery stable about acquiring a horse and handler for a day of shooting and she told me “well you gotta talk to cowboy joe..” and she gave me a number to call. so sure enough, arrangements were made, and on the day of the shoot, cowboy joe showed up with a horse in a trailer and we were good to go. cowboy joe is about 6’2” maybe 200 pounds or so, and a very solid guy. he has a large round head, with a big smile, and a handshake that leaves no questions about his history. this is a workin man. he was so polite, so friendly, and such a gentleman, all the ladies on set were swooning. the production manager, lisa, was often caught saying “that’s what i want, a big strong man who’s not complicated. i’ll be in the kitchen cooking and he’ll come home from the range all tough and sweaty and drink a beer while i get dinner on…” i laughed at this heartily because if you met lisa she would seem like the farthest thing from that. i’m talking badass tattoo’s, art degrees, all the way left, and the most bitchin music collection ever. so yeah, everything went off without a hitch (ha! no pun intended) the horse was great, we got amazing shots, and i even got to lead the horse around a bit and feed her carrots. horses are like dogs, they are really personable, very friendly if treated well, they just poop a WHOLE LOT BIGGER. we thanked joe tremendously and went about the rest of our week. and i thought that was the last i would see of him..

about two years later i got a phone call from an unknown number… hello? “howdy eric, cowboy joe here! how are ya?” ok so for a minute i did that thing were you stop walking or whatever you’re doing and try to decipher who exactly you are speaking to and how did they get your number… then it came back to me. holy crap! hi joe! we had a nice chat catching up.. then came the reason for his call: he was getting together a musical act, and needed some publicity photos, could i come out and meet with him and check out his operation? sure thing i said. and here is where the story gets amazing.

in the time that had passed since i last saw joe, he had become single again, his dog had died, his side business in construction was gone, he stopped working at the livery stable, and had almost died from being thrown from a horse. yet he was as chipper as ever a man could be. i went to see joe. since he was no longer at the livery, he was working from horse barn to horse barn throughout arizona as a handler/trainer/whisperer. i am not sure what you call it to be honest… but he is really good at it. when i met him at the stable he was currently working in, i discovered he was living in a trailer built sometime after world war II, it is white and blue, everything works, and that’s about all i know. it was very retro, matched the pickup truck he pulled it with, he parked in in the lot next to the stables, and this was where he had been hanging his hat and kickin off his boots for some time. it was here that i learned more about joe. he was working at another stable when his injury occurred. he was helping out with a seemingly gentle horse in the ring as a favor to a friend. he had gotten to the point where the horse trusted him and he could ride her. but on this particular day, the horse had other ideas… he was thrown off very violently, and hit in the lower backbone by the bucking rear end of the horse as he was being launched. it took him a minute or two to get up, but he did, and of course went about his day as if nothing was wrong, though it “hurt like a sonuvabitch”. eventually, days later, when he could no longer walk, he went to the hospital. (see? very manly.) he had some busted bones, torn muscles, and some infection setting in, and he was in bad shape. he was told if the infection didn’t clear up in a day or two he might not make it. friends came in to help out. after a long stint in the hospital, he recovered and got his sea legs back. on the day he was to leave the hospital he learned that the horse was to be put down. and at this moment, something occurred to joe. he knew what he wanted to do. he had almost lost his life because of a horse and decided he wanted to spend the next chapter of his life working with just one. he drove straight from the hospital to the stable where the horse was. he offered the owners $400 in lieu of destroying the animal. he drove home with her that afternoon. he named her “Love”.

this is a picture joe sent me of him and love:

here is one i took one morning…

so joe starting working with love.. they became inseparable. they spent everyday together, morning noon and night. she slept in a stall a few meters from his trailer, and he sang to her on his guitar. at daybreak, he would start his coffee and go and get love out of the stall. she would follow him back to the trailer and they would have breakfast together:

amazing you may say! lovely story! indeed, indeed… but check this s#@t out. guess what he is training the horse to do? not only has he got her fear of people conquered, and she knows a few dressage moves, and she is basically a kitten with- again- very large poop, he now has a complete choreographed routine that involves him playing guitar and singing as the horse does her moves, and then stomps along with the tune on a large wooden box. he also has her trained to carry him about with no reins so he can play the guitar and sing while riding her. she knows the words to the songs, and corresponds appropriately. true story.

i asked joe to play me some of his songs…

he has a few sponsors interested, fender, and a clothing manufacturer… it is his dream to travel and do the show at rodeos or horse shows or campgrounds and host sing-a-longs.

we sat there in his trailer and talked almost all day. i got to meet his partner in crime, ray. ray has skin like well tanned leather. his legs are permanently bowed. he has had almost every bone in his body broken at least once. he was a jockey a long time ago and talked fondly of his first derby win, and how he left the track to buy a brand new mustang with the winnings over 50 years ago. he showed me the newspaper clippings of his victories… he lives in the house at the stable, behind which joe parks his trailer. he has long wispy grey hair and smokes camels. his hands feel like sand paper. i doubt he is afraid of anything this world has to offer.

this is ray:

neither one of these men are well off. far from it. joe and ray live the most conservative lifestyle imaginable by most of us. i am a king in a castle compared to joe. i sat in his dusty trailer that he had bought years before air conditioning was around. (fyi this is arizona people.) there is no computer, no internet, no tv. just an old radio and his fender guitar. i looked at the photos, books, knick knacks from lives past scattered about the trailer. we talked about our lives, he showed me his bible. we talked about faith. there was a few pictures of a woman here and there, but he was far more upset about losing a good dog then he ever was about any of his lady friends. he proudly displayed his saddle and bridle set he had custom made by a friend who works with leather and silver. it was absolutely beautiful. he has been through so many hardships i think i would find unlivable. i worry about being alone, about being able to have and support a family, and if i were in joe’s position, this would trouble me a great deal. i would probably disappear into alaska with my dog and a shotgun christopher mccandless style. ( if you don’t know the reference, read the book ‘into the wild’. it will change your life.) but not once, not for a single millisecond in 6 hours of conversation did joe ever complain, look sad, or lament anything that had happened in his 60 odd years. he laughed loud and honestly, he listened carefully and patiently, and he shared his life with unconditional trust. he is the happiest person i have ever met, and he shares that joy openly.

and now, as i have left one way of life to try to make my way as a freelance artist… i get mired in thoughts that don’t matter. i end up wasting time with people that don’t care about me, and i get caught up in the politics and bullshit we all see around us everyday. competing with each other for some kind of success, constantly evaluating, judging ourselves and others, trying to find happiness wherever we can, but never knowing how to define it. when i get too far down this hole, i think of joe. in his trailer, in 110 degrees, with nothing but a horse named Love and a guitar. and there he is. smiling, happy, alive.
2011-10-26

lately

a few updates today… i got to see the new posters that local motors printed up.. i’m excited as it is the first poster that i both shot and did the copy for. i am hoping somehow this segues into me driving the car in the baja 1000 for them. hopefully the powers that be will read this blog and note my experience crashing fiats and motorcycles and they will instantly know i am the guy for the job.

here is the poster:

speaking of shooting posters and writing copy, here are a few concepts i am developing for a new burger chain… like? dislike? your comments are appreciated. (i am aware of the grammatical errors thankyouverymuch).

so yeah.. a few commercial things here and there. it’s fun. the part about shooting food that sucks is you will end up eating a lot. first, while the actual shooting is going on, then when it’s time to retouch and you stare at a hamburger for an hour.. well you know. i imagine it would suck to have a job retouching, like.. kitten calendars or something.. cuz gosh you can’t eat kittens.. though i’ve heard they are great in tacos.

also did a shoot with the lovely kalia pang the other day.. samples:

i should state here that while i want to keep everyone updated with what i am doing in photography, i also very much enjoy writing this blog for the purpose of telling funny stories about people i know, and occasionally myself. that being said, i should warn those of you that know me well. i have resurrected my epson scanner from the brink of operating system related destruction, and i am going into the vault! hilarity shall ensue.. stay tuned.
2011-10-25

crash

i feel like i should tell the greatest rental car story ever told. if you have been to my photography website and read my intro, you may have noticed a bit about wrecking a rented fiat in southern italy. though it was life threatening, it was actually a very beautiful experience that still resonates in my mind today. and because i apparently have no problem typing my innermost thoughts permanently into the bowels of cyberspace, i shall continue to open up to the anonymous people that are hopefully reading my blog, AND re-posting, AND telling friends about it, AND linking to it.. c’mon help a brother out people.

so once upon a time in a galaxy far far away, i was bouncing around europe with my then long time on again off again girlfriend.. let’s call her… ummm… cruella. no be nice.. how about elizabeth. that’ll work… so yeah, me and elizabeth were in umbria, just outside of tuscany in the heart-achingly beautiful country of italy. we were staying in a house on the side of an amazing canyon into which sheepherders would lead their flocks down winding paths in the early glow of evening and we could see and hear them and their little bells ringing as we sipped wine from the porch. it was truly one of the best experiences of my life.

our rental vehicle for this portion of the trip was the beautifully functional fiat stilo wagon. here is what this car looks like before it is rented by american tourists:

ours was blue, but notice the heavenly glow..

the reason this car (and most european cars) are totally rad is that it is a turbo diesel, and it is a stick shift. and it comes stock with proper, actual alloy wheels. none of that plastic hubcap american crap. the rental policy was arranged through a service offered by elizabeths credit card company, and we had a very nice woman who was sort of like a translator/trip advisor and it was through her that we arranged the rental. we took this car all around the area, driving to all the different small towns and hamlets that ring the countryside in tuscany. one of these particular day trips landed us in sienna. sienna a whole different post. i could fill reams of paper or burn through multiple hard drives cataloguing the amazing history, beauty, and ambiance that all of the small cities in italy offer.

so we were in sienna, which is where they fill the main square with sand and make a horse racing track and the local neighborhoods compete in a very dangerous and very fast horse race. people get hurt. let’s leave it at that. we moseyed around, i took a billion pictures, eventually we had dinner and as the light faded we packed up and headed back to umbria. i should mention here that while elizabeth and i were quite fond of wine, and especially italian wine, and had been quite welcomed at numerous local restaurants all around umbria, we had not had more than a glass or two the whole day. i should also mention that i was driving… ahem. we were both wearing seatbelts. now, the roads in the italian countryside look a WHOLE LOT different at night. they are narrow, signage is merely a suggestion, and italians all think they are mario andretti. after about an hour or so we found ourselves traversing the narrow gravel road that wound down the side of the aforementioned canyon to where the house was. i should pause here to mention that elizabeth and i had been together for a while, though often the relationship was interrupted at length by turmoil, heartbreak, and the errant new love interest. (i am going to be very diplomatic here and leave it at that). this time around, we were more grown up, had kinda figured out how to make it work, and we were having a good time being actual functioning adults. and as an adult who had known this person for some time, i also knew very well how to piss her off at will. one of these techniques involved sliding cars around in gravel or snow. (other techniques included jumping out of closets and scaring the shit out of her, pulling out eyebrow hair with my fingers, and saying the word “ointment”).

so without further foreshadowing, here’s what went down: we were winding down this dark gravel road, unaware that it was actually on the side of the canyon because the tree cover was so thick. a porcupine like creature from another dimension the size of a freakin walrus ambled out of the darkness onto the road, i hit the brakes and the car slid a bit, freaking out elizabeth and delighting me to no end. so the next chance i got, i slipped the clutch a little bit and swung the car out again, only it went a little further than i thought and the left rear wheel went off the road. i stopped the car. i was laughing at elizabeth and she was throwing things at me when the car very slowly started to list to the left. it appears that the rear wheel was actually resting atop dense bushes, and those bushes gave way slowly, revealing a 60 degree slope underneath. let me tell you something: nothing will change the mood of a situation quicker then the sudden thought of imminent death. i promise. try it. and then, as the car slowly rolled over and landed back on its wheels, my reaction (because i am a retard) was to laugh at the thought of having to call a tow truck in italy and explain this.

but the car did not stop. it paused briefly, i looked across at elizabeth and said GET OUT. she opened the door, the little light went on, and outside the foliage was starting to roll again like the artificial horizon in an airplane. CLOSE THE DOOR. HOLD ON. i remember reaching my right arm across her chest and pushing as hard as i could as the car slowly and quite terrifyingly gained momentum. first side over side, then end over end. glass exploded around us, we could hear the car crumpling, the windshield caved in, the roof caved in… every now and then the lights would flicker on and we could see trees flying by, then the ground, then stars, it was surreal. i was looking over at elizabeth and every time the car would impact the earth or whatever, the dome light inside the car would go on and i could tell which direction the impact was coming from by the direction that elizabeths long hair flew and froze momentarily in the air. she was surrounded by sparkling shards of glass that looked like tiny twinkling stars hanging in the air. it was absolutely beautiful. incredible. awesome. it was silent, everything was just suspended in air and everything was in slow motion, and i wish i could have photographed it to show you.

maybe that seems crazy, but it is what i was thinking. i was not afraid. not one second. at the moment elizabeth closed the door and we started tumbling, i heard her say in a worried voice “when is it going to stop?” i then very briefly considered that at any moment we would hit a tree and die. and at this very moment a voice entered my head. all it said was ”you both will be ok, do not be afraid.” now because of my particular faith, i believe it was a guardian angel, or God, or maybe just a level of consciousness in which God exists, but i was instantly calm, and i think it was because of this that i was able to find beauty in the moment.

the car finally stopped on its right side. it was pitch black. we could smell fuel. we were bleeding. thankfully we were suspended in our seats by the belts. the airbags had not deployed. the roof was caved into the headrest where elizabeths head would have been had it not been out of the way at the exact second the roof was smashed. the doors were too mangled to open, but thankfully i am an Aries, stubborn and hardheaded, and my thick skull had shattered my driver side window. it was through this exit that i found myself climbing out of in a daze. i stood on the door of the car and reached in for my companion, my partner. she had instantly stopped being just my girlfriend. sometimes it takes something like a crash to wake you up i guess… she could not find her shoes, and was adamant about putting them on because she really liked them. we were in shock. i told her to leave the shoes already and pulled her out of the car. the car was steaming and hissing, and fuel vapor was everywhere. pieces of the car and tail lights still connected to wiring harnesses hung from the branches high above us. we had no idea what direction to go, as we were in very dense forest. we decided the best bet was to go back up the canyon through the giant swath the car had carved. it was very very steep, vertical in some places. did i mention it was the middle of the night? hand over hand we climbed like monkeys away from the car. blood was dripping down my arms from unseen cuts, and elizabeth was covered with glass. we were struggling, holding on to smaller trees and pulling each other up leapfrog style, at one point i slipped (i was only in socks at this point and she was barefoot) and started to tumble. elizabeth caught me by the loose jeans at my foot. when elizabeths feet began to get cut up from the rocks, i carried her on my back. something amazing had happened. we were working together, depending on each other. all the pain and tumult of how we had hurt each other in the past was gone. all the filters and walls were down, we were real, we were ourselves, we were together.

we stopped to rest on a ledge, we could not continue in the direction we were going because it was too steep. we began to go sideways, hoping to find a way through. just as the shock was wearing off and pain was setting in, i tripped on something. it was some sort of electrical conduit, and it ran straight up the slope. elizabeth held on to my belt and we got out of the canyon mountain climber style. we reached the road. it had taken us 2 hours to get out of the canyon. we stood up, we looked at each other in the moonlight, we hugged, laughed, cried. it was one of the happiest moments of my life. when we got to the house we stood next to each other and looked in the mirror. we were covered with dried blood, dirt, a few bruises.. but we were otherwise unharmed. we sat in a bathtub and took turns pulling shards of glass out of our scalps. we drank some wine. we slept.

this was the path the car left through the forest. the car had come to a stop 4 feet from a 12 foot drop. a tree 4 inches in diameter saved our lives. it caught the car just above the hood.

the tree that saved my life.

notice the beautiful view of the valley, just beyond the pile of busted car.

in the morning, we were certainly stiff. we had two calls to make, and i was not looking forward to either. first, the rental car facility, second to my girlfriends father. yippeee.

the woman who arranged the car was quite cheery as she answered the phone..”prrontoooh..” she cooed. ha. “hi… we’ve had a problem with the car…” oh! are you ok, did something break? she replied. “ah, well yes, the car is indeed broken..” oh don’t worry, this sort of thing happens a lot, the drivers in italy are crazy, fender benders are not uncommon. where is the car now? “ummm.. i’m not really sure.” what do you mean? “well, we rolled off the road last night, and when we walked up to see where, we could not find the car.” ……silence. are you ok? “Yes, we’re fine, thank you.” how bad is the car? “um.. again, we weren’t able to find it? but it’s probably pretty bad.” and then she said the most amazing thing ever said. she said: “OK, not to worry, i’ll have someone out with a new car for you in about 40 minutes.” as i live and breathe, that is what she said.

then i had to call elizabeths dad because we had reserved the car with his card. that conversation went something like this. “hey there, hello from italy how are you guys doing back in the states?” hi guys! how are you? wait, what time is it there? “oh, it’s early…” yeah… what’s wrong. “well? we had a little accident with the car…” silence… then: “if it was little, why are you calling me?” me- “well, we rolled down a mountain, we can’t find the car.” i heard her father relay this softly to her mother. then the shit hit the italian fan. at first they insisted i was joking (because once i called them from a scuba diving trip elizabeth and i were on and i very convincingly told them that she had been attacked by a shark. and gosh darn it they fell for it). so after i had to tell them i was not pulling their leg, there was a stern talking to delivered to me, the boyfriend, who was driving, and had endangered the life of their little girl, and what the hell is my problem. i think her father maybe asked if i was ok too, maybe…

then the car people showed up with a spankin new citroen. i was stoked because it was way nicer then the fiat and also a stick shift. i thought, well hell, i wonder what we will get if i wreck this one? a ferrari? that would be sweet. i did not say this out loud.

the car people had enlisted the help of some local farmer to find the car. it took them two days. when they found it, we all went out to observe. the italian farmers were looking at us puzzled. when it was explained to them that we had been in the car, they stared at us, touched us as if we were holy, and made the sign of the cross. the group decided that the only way to get the car out was to cut the small tree that had saved us and let the car roll the rest of the way down the hill. i was a little sentimental about them cutting the tree down… then five of us all lifted the down side of the car to roll it over, and it smashed onto the asphalt below. they removed it with a backhoe and a dumptruck. it was toast.

first they tied the car to another tree so it would not roll on the man cutting the little tree down.

i wish i could say that this story had a happy ending. well i guess it did. we are alive. we had experienced the threat of death together, elizabeth and i. we survived, we trusted each other with our lives. i had witnessed something so beautiful and taken part in the amazing bond it had created, and i thought it would last the rest of our lives. i don’t think i will ever understand why it didn’t. to me the lesson was this: there exists extraordinary beauty in the most challenging situations. i am truly blessed, and there is a purpose in my life i have not yet fulfilled.

i also learned that when renting a car, always, ALWAYS- get the full coverage.
2011-10-22

Empathy

when i decided to start blogging, i promised myself that there were certain rules i would adhere to. no politics, nothing too personal about friends or family, nothing in 3rd person, no references to ideology, no jersey shore… but a current event has got me really thinking about some things.. mostly how i feel about fellow humans that are suffering and the subject of facing death. sounds rather morbid, i know.. but stay with me! as everyone on the planet should now know, muammar gaddafi was recently captured and killed by the revolutionary forces of libya. and unlike revolutions in the past, this one was entirely televised thanks to the internet and cellular phone video. there was a poem/song written by Gil Scott-Heron that said “the revolution will not be televised”. and maybe he was referring to a thought revolution or something that happens within our consciousness, but things are different now. i personally feel this is a good thing, because it allows us to see past the bullshit of the news media and how the story will be spun depending on which network you are watching.

i like to see things from other peoples perspective, and i love the reality and speed at which these perspectives can now be delivered. things are so instantaneous now, there is little the powers that be can do to control or corrupt the information. however, the videos being posted of gaddafi being captured and killed have struck a nerve with me personally. there is something about watching a person face and acknowledge that they will very soon be dead, and having the time to dread it, or prepare themselves maybe… who knows. but watching this dictator being pulled from a drainpipe, dragged in front of cameras and beaten to a pulp, shot, and stripped- it upset me deeply that this is the reality we live in. and i know i am being naive… (this is the way of the world, it has been for some time, and quite possibly we will see these things more and more as the inequalities in our society increase).

i can very vividly imagine what that must have felt like, try for a moment to put yourself there: in one moment you are fleeing in a convoy, bullets flying everywhere, adrenalin, fear, panic. loud noises, explosions, the heat of the desert, dust, sweat, blood. then aircraft attack and completely destroy the vehicles in front of you. shell-shocked you scramble to the cover of the disabled vehicles and are instantly involved in a firefight that lasts hours. bullets buzz by, people are killed right in front of you. vividly i can imagine the scene… probably we all can thanks to hollywood… eventually you find yourself cowering in a sewer tunnel, a strange contrast to the opulence you have enjoyed for the last 40 years.. then you are tackled by the people you have been trying to kill for the last two hours. i wonder if at that point your brain just removes you from the situation, an out of body experience. the next thing you know you are being punched, kicked, slapped. a few of your teeth are knocked out by a rifle butt, your hair is pulled out in clumps. your vision is impaired by the blood streaming from your head as someone has just shot you with a small caliber handgun. you are humiliated, tortured, paraded around like a hunting trophy, and as you begin to numb and the world slowly fades away as you bleed to death, the only sounds you hear are cheering and gunfire. the sounds of elation at your death.

ok, let me say- i have no idea what it feels like to be under oppression. to be faced with endless poverty, to live in fear of a totalitarian state. i also can’t relate to the rage and adrenalin that must have been pulsing like burning fire through the veins of those soldiers. and i do not judge them. realistically, if i had watched countless people die at the hands of an iron fisted ruler, maybe i would have reacted the same way. maybe worse.. i don’t know. i hope i never find out. and in the months leading up to this event, i was one of the people mocking gaddafi, saying to the television “you can run, but you can’t hide motherf@#ker!!!” but when you see a man completely stripped of everything, quite obviously beaten, i find myself sympathizing instantly. i can feel his fear, his revelation, his mistakes flashing before his eyes. i realize that this is a human being. the anger dissipates, and to me it’s like “it’s over”. the people and the courts will decide your fate. that to me, is what separates the good from evil. that is the choice we must make to avoid stepping down to the level of those that commit these atrocities on their fellow man. it is a very difficult choice, but in my life i have found that all the tough decisions are always the most honorable ones.

this is what hopelessness looks like, though i do not mourn this man. it was his own choices that brought him to this eventual and predicatble fate. it only makes me sad to see people behave in such a ruthless and bloodthirsty manor, whether the victim deserves it or not. i hope the “not televised” revolution that Gil Scott-Heron imagines will be one of enlightenment.
2011-10-20

paris metro

few alternatives to personal transportation offer up as many sights, sounds, and smells as the public transportation services of any particular city. i have had the privilege to ride quite a few buses, trains, and subway systems over the years, but the metro winding its way underneath the city of light is by far the most diverse and interesting i have seen. it is like a bizarre carnival that never ends. the system itself is immense. you can literally get anywhere, even out to the countryside. and there are even ways to use the tunnels that connect the many many stations as walkways to avoid inclement weather. when i had the time, i would simply get on the metro randomly and just sort of haphazardly pick a direction and a stop and go check out whatever the destination turned out to be.

as an observer, i would travel the lines of the metro at various hours of the day/night, listening to music on the iPod, and everything i saw would come to life as if i was conducting my own beautiful music video. this is a really surreal experience, especially if you happen to be really tired and taking cold medicine.

you never know what you are going to see down there.. for instance:

Krishna’s!

i thought they were extinct..

on one of my more eventful evenings i was wandering through the labyrinth of a very large station. it was lit with abundant fluorescent light that eventually has a very hypnotizing effect on me, and everything kind of slows down. there were people selling things from unfolded blankets in some areas, produce vendors, musicians, crazy people, scary people, smelly people, really really drunk people, and even someone selling remote controlled helicopters.

it was late- around 1:30 am- and the place was still jammin. in between the rhythms of the trains, i was picking up a faint but beautiful melody. the trains would rumble in, you could hear and feel them coming, then there was the rush of air pressure forced through the tunnels by the trains, crisp and cool on the face and bringing scents from the underworld. and then the hisssss as the doors opened to the throngs of busy hurried people chattering and walking in and out of the trains. then eerily, it would become silent again, until the cycle repeated it self. during the silence i followed the music i was hearing until i found this gentleman:

i couldn’t help but notice how appropriate his statement on posterboard was for what i was seeing around me. he was playing the most beautiful music… i stood and watched from the wall for about a half hour as this ballet was taking place… the people rush in like wind with murmuring voices, the clip clop of boots.. the trains hiss and creak, the doors close and it is quiet again, all the while this accordion player wove a tapestry of notes that echoed gently through the tunnels. it was simply beautiful.

of course, the metro has its pitfalls as well. there is always construction, and rarely signs to direct you to detours, lots of public urination (see: really really drunk people above), a few instances of people being chased by cops for jumping the turnstiles.. but i never saw any crime or felt threatened. and because of this i spent a lot of time riding the rails.. here is what my iPhone wanted you to see:

FYI: the only thing accurately mapped in paris is the metro

entry into the twilight zone

is he crying?

and some pics from a slightly more sophisticated camera, though only slightly… (it was a nikon)

it really is a strangely beautiful place.

ahh paris… the beautiful city of passion, noise, color, and love.
2011-10-12

virginia

virginia is the state of my birth. it is also home to those that birthed me. for this reason, i return there at least once a year, sometimes more, to visit and take a tour of the latest gigantic shopping center or software company that have suddenly appeared like mushrooms after a rain storm. though i do enjoy these visits with my family, i often find that i am kind of glad i do not live there. northern virginia in particular has become a very sort of “cubicled” environment as i like to call it. it is definitely a very corporate and conservative area, and the uniform du jour consists of khaki pants, v-neck sweaters, a new lexus or bmw SUV, and anything from banana republic. i think you are required by law to have at least 2.5 children.

it is still beautiful, don’t get me wrong. there is evidence everywhere that the construction is done with a lot of planning and zoning designed to protect the natural beauty of the place while making living very comfortable and everything accessible. it’s a very safe place conducive to settling down, shall we say. one of the downfalls of this is that the cops aren’t always that busy, so they love to sneak around with radar guns and harass presumably innocent people in rental cars that are only testing out the cars top speed to make sure it will be safe should the need arise to outrun a shark driving a dark van (see post about rob) that is quickly gaining on you in the rear view mirror. sheesh.

so my trips to virginia always turn out to be interesting and sentimental. here are some pictorial highlites from a few of my trips…

this is my nephew asher, who is modeling the latest preschool fashion trend “the chapeau du basket”

this is my niece lucy. she actually always looks like this even to the human eye because she moves around like a flea that just drank six redbulls.

this is my youngest brother on the luckiest day of his life. (not his car..fyi)

this is my other brothers car after another virginia citizen mistook his car for an exit ramp. she was of course following local protocol (notice the SUV)

this is the license plate of someone in DC that perhaps has to explain themselves a lot for some reason.

this is what my parents basement stairs look like.

this is my nephew slash cousin calvin proudly displaying what can only be described as the baddest transformer of all time.

this is my dad shooting pictures of the grandkids. notice the odd angle and the abundant use of on camera flash.. (sigh.. he’s a nikon guy)

this was at the catholic ceremony / ‘contest for worlds largest wedding party’ of a friend of mine.

this is mia. she was one of the flower girls from above mentioned contest. she is the daughter of one of my closest friends. here she is takin it down a notch with some slow jams.

this is a poster that has been hanging in my parents laundry room for 25 years. i have always remembered this and try to live my life this way as best i can. it’s a good thing we had to do our own laundry.

this is me in a car

this is a united airlines tug on september 11th.

and this is somewhere above the shenandoah valley. thank you for everything virginia..
→

sanitizer

i have noticed that there is an increasing presence of sanitizing products everywhere. my youngest brother who is an environmental smart person says this is bad because it all ends up in the rivers and oceans and destroys essential bacteria and other smallish life forms that keep the ecosystem working properly. that being said, i think it is a little overboard to walk in the grocery store and have the option of wiping down your shopping cart. somehow we have all survived thus far without this necessity. but of course, we cannot always be sure that the people we come in contact with practice basic levels of hygiene. having worked in various restaurants as a younger lad, i can personally attest to this. so for those reasons i can see where it may be a good idea to carry around this:

because maybe you did.

eclipse

home for the holidays

asian persuasion

allie

clouds

cowboy joe

lately

crash

Empathy

paris metro

virginia

sanitizer