Fun With A Camera

As some of you know, one of my hobbies is photography.

I’ve never thought of pursuing anything professionally ( in terms of taking classes, studying my heart out, and making a career out of this) but I do enjoy learning what I can about contrast, about lighting, about angles, about context and all other aspects of the art.

I probably know nothing. But I like to think I do.

My mother made a suggestion that I make a calendar with photographs specific to each month because I shot this on Christmas:


I could probably get rid of that candy cane off to the side. It’s a give or take in my eyes.

I would like to get into shooting more abstract things, and portraits. I’d like to do some good cityscapes too. I enjoyed doing this on the roadway:Highway Robbery



I just like messing around. I think the effects are cool.

This bird says hello. I made him a little more . . . artistic and aesthetically pleasing to my eyes, as you can probably tell:

Lonely crow

But nature has it’s own beauty and when I went out to the cliffs this evening to do some homework away from this chaotic household, I stopped halfway up the driveway and ran back into the house for my camera case and camera. I figured if I caught the sunset, I could get some cool shots. Here are a few:

Seacliff Bay

Cement ship

Full Wharf

Ocean View


Luckily the roar of the ocean on the sands edge below drowned out the screeching Superbowl fans from the houses across the street.

At the end of the day only me and one smoker guy were left admiring the skyline and sinking cement boat off in the distance.

Once again: cement boat. Not one of humanity’s greatest inventions.¬†

Whether I’m horrendous at shots or generally “alright” for an amateur, photography is like a meditation to me. My head zones out and I focus only on what I need to focus on; I see the patterns and the shapes and the opportunities and for a chunk of time I think of nothing else lest that something else have an importance towards my original focus. I emerge from the experience refreshed, at one with myself, with my camera and with whatever random event or object I’ve etched into a digital file.

Photos to me snap more than a quick moment in time, they hold within them a quick moment of myself, a moment of my thoughts, and I see that reflection in them.

It’s much like writing a fiction piece or manuscript; your characters will always have a sliver (or more) of you in them and you will notice that reflection whether you intended for it to be or not.

If I don’t see myself in the art I create, I feel no attachment and often scrap it. Art is for the self as much as it is for the enjoyment of others. I think that’s what makes it often so undeniably momentous.

Lean Wit It, Rock Wit It

Can we all take a moment and give mad respect to Betty White and her dab?


I’m not the kind of person to “lean and dab”, I’m not even a person to dab. Or lean for that matter. I don’t “Nae-Nae” or “whip” lest the effect be purely comedic. But I give props to Betty for keeping up with the “times” (regardless of how disgraceful those times may be) and keeping herself young.

I aspire to have the same mindset at her age. I’ll be doing whatever freakish combination of “nae-nae”, “whipping”, “dabbing” and “Bobby Shurmdaing” comes out in the future down the halls of the psychiatric hospital I’ll be the chief of. Dancing is good for mental health. That would be a good exercise for everyone, including the staff.

My business plans are golden, ya’ll.

mjaxmi01mjazm2jkzdu0mdzin2jlAll you can really do is laugh at this kind of stuff. Anyone who takes these artists seriously is missing the point. Sure, the “dab” music video has over fourteen million views but I guarantee 90% of them came from people wanting to see how stupid it was. I won’t even complain about that kind of “music” because it’s not music. It’s entertainment, simply. It’s not meant to be meaningful or beautiful or heartfelt, it’s meant to ring in popularity and dough and fifteen minutes of fame. They’re actually quite intelligent, if you ask me. It takes a serious disregard for ones own dignity to put yourself in the limelight without a care and subject yourself to relentless ridicule just for some views on YouTube and the chance at a record deal with a corporation that will garnish 80% of your earnings for themselves.

I’ve written countless numbers of parody raps and I’ve manipulated and created beats just as easily as these fools. I could mix a nice beat and but a pointless video to it and post it on YouTube and gather a little fame too. I’m a crazy personality when I’m by myself or in front of a camera.

I’ve always wanted to be part of YouTube. As an introvert, it gives me a chance to show my true self and entertain people with my five star comedy (don’t argue it) without ever having to look at them face to face. I’d like to have someone to do it with, someone who is as dedicated as I am, and I haven’t found anyone interested yet.

It makes me wonder: perhaps I did become a “Youtube celebrity”. That’s what they call them, right? Whatever. Perhaps I became a YouTube Personality. I like that phrase better. Could I handle the fame, if it so happened to blow my socks off?

Yes and no, I think is the proper answer.

stressed-simpsonI’ve been busy this week. School, running back and forth to handle the job paperwork, dealing with my family issues, and it stresses me out. I can’t handle stress. I’m on my last straw and it’s only the beginning of week three in the semester.

Often my anxiety keeps me up at night, and it’s been vicious since school started, not to mention I have to take care of all of my father’s medical issues (making sure appointments are scheduled, sacrificing homework time to take him to his appointments, keeping an eye on his behavior e.t.c) because my mother is a procrastinator and also refuses to take even a day off of work to take him to anything. I worry about myself, about them, about school, about random things all night long and get four to five hours of sleep each night.

I try to work on myself and my social anxiety disorder and depression and anger to prevent it from also holding me back in school, but I can’t put as much time into it as I want to with all these other obstacles in the way.

Yesterday I went to a credit union to open another account because my first bank account representative couldn’t set up my account right two years ago. Talking to authoritarian figures such as bankers is a red flag alert for my anxiety; I’ve been preparing for it all week. I was thoroughly frustrated when my mother and I walked through the doors because we looked like idiots standing at the front desk in the middle of the room where no one was sitting. We we got in line to cash her check and the guy who was supposed to be at the front desk came back. My mother said we could go back to the front desk again but I didn’t want to look like a fucking idiot even more, so I hissed no.

A hauty-taughty woman stood an inch from me and my red flag started to burn.

'Don't worry, I always stand this close to people.'

The bank representative couldn’t set up my account because there’s a fraud alert on my social security number. Either someone stole my identity (fat lot of luck you’ll have with my zero credit score) or someone in the system spelled my name wrong. They wouldn’t even accept it even though I had my signed card with me.

I put a lot of effort into that visit. It took a lot of energy out of me, the last bit of energy I had, and I started balling in the car because 1) I have to go to the social security office to sort this out and 2) I have to go back to the bank and through the process all over again.

This is not the first time I’ve had a problem with banks. Corporate and Federal America doesn’t like me.



My mother clicked her tongue at me like she always does and tells me to stop being ridiculous and hysterical over nothing.

I’ve known for a long time the way I feel 1) isn’t understood, 2) isn’t respect and 3) doesn’t matter to anyone but myself.

I wanted to spend some good one on one time with my boyfriend because that’s the only time I feel at least semi-normal and not as anxious, but that didn’t happen because of video games and my inability to express verbally how I feel. Enough said.

I’m not prepared for this coming week. I’m rather fragile.


If I were “famous” I couldn’t quit the fame, not in the way I could quit the job or school. But at least I’d have a lot of money to go crazy like Justin Bieber or Brittany Spears.

To avoid further conflict in my house at this moment (the alcoholic is doing what he does best and that usually sparks some deep seeded anger in me I’d rather not let loose at the moment) I am sitting at a sea cliff edge, the edge I drove to when I had the courage to jump off it but made the wise decision not to, and I’m marveling at how smooth the ocean is and how bright the sun is. Everything is beautiful here and I like that.

Besides the two idiots sitting on the bench right in front of my car. They could have sat some place else.

I’ll post pictures later.

As for now, I don’t think I could handle fame or school. Or life.

I’m going to stay positive as always. Part of that is letting loose of some of this negativity in the form of blogging.

I think that’s a decent strategy, don’t you?