February, 2014 Archives

All right. Fuck it. I’m going all the way. 100. Watch out everyone.

This lady is as old as she is, because she lives for something outside of herself. I’m sure of it.


97 years old.

I just recently watched two super interesting videos about Likes. Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr..whatever. You know what I’m talking about. It’s become a pervasive way of validating ourselves. I’m just as guilty as anyone. I encourage you to watch both of these videos below. The first might feel a little bit elementary, almost as if they are speaking to an audience that has lived a sheltered digital experience, but there are still some points and exposure to some things that made it worth the watch. You have to link over to Frontlines site though..


This 2nd video is an investigation on fake likes. And really, just how many there are and how it affects ones marketing on Facebook specificially. I found it pretty validating in my own thoughts that Facebook likes are really not all that helpful in the end game. But, it’s still a game that must be played.


The business of Likes.

Much respect to VICE for putting this together and following through with truly is a pretty remarkable event.

I’ve spent my whole life looking ahead, towards the future. Always gunning it, working as hard as I can, going as fast as I can, piling on more, committing to more, expecting more. Always expecting more. Of myself, of others, of my life. THIS wasn’t it..IT was ahead of me, just around the corner and I better get there fast before it’s dark and I can’t see it any more.

Guess what?

The scenic view is right here.

Everything I’ve been or done or seen or said or wished for but is now past is in the rear view mirror. All the gunning has just gotten me closer to what? What is it? Because I don’t feel closer to anything. At all. In fact, now it feels like maybe I accidentally passed it all, and accidentally ran over some people in my desperate flight for that thing ahead that I thought I had an idea about. It is so rare for me to be pleased in the moment. Why? Sometimes when I’m conscious and accepting of the moment, which in itself has been a rare thing, though it does get easier the older I get, but when I actually am conscious of that moment, I often feel awkward and that consciousness becomes SELF consciouness real quickly. And that’s no good. So what’s the problem? Why is it so hard to be here now? Whats wrong with now? What’s wrong with what this moment holds? What’s wrong with where you are now? What’s wrong with the people you love? What’s wrong with slowing down and realizing what you have and how little control you actually have in life?

Nothing. So, self, do it. Relax. This IS the scenic view.

I need this reminder more often than I’d like to admit. Maybe some of you do too.

Just a reminder

The older I get, the more I understand how tragic life can be, how little it takes to shift from one road to the next and how irrelevant it is to judge others on their blundering path through life. We all blunder at some point. I just finished watching Stories We Tell, a documentary about a girl, the director, who is in search of understanding her deceased mother and her living father, and her newly realized biological father, a result of an affair with a man who 30 years later still loved her to the depths of his core. You can tell. The story slowly unwinds through the articulate interviews with brothers and sisters and also, the written story as spoken by her father. This movie has a lot to say about love, life, and the search for truth of relationship or existence.

Much of the film is composed of interviews and vintage home movie footage, but some of the scenes are reinacted, with actors, which comes as a disappointment to me and what I thought was the directors search for truth. They seem misplaced in their attempts to recreate reality, going a step further than the spoken “truths” of those vocalizing their memories of the mother and the events that transpired. There is a scene in the film that is one of the more beautiful moments I’ve ever seen in a film though, and it’s really pure perfection of story, edit and sound track working in perfect harmony creating something that speaks so much louder than any one of it’s parts could ever reach.

It’s worth watching the film just for that minute..but if you don’t..it’s this song below, Demon Host by Timber Timbre, playing and one by one each person who has been in the film up to this point is shown sitting in silence/thought with their faces bearing the weight of their memories. If ever there is truth, it is in that moment, on each of their faces.

The film is definitely worth a watch. You can get to it here. Stories We Tell.

I haven’t fact checked this because I really want it to be true.

The Silence of Dogs in Cars – Martin Usborne

I absolutely love this series of photos of dogs in cars. The artist Martin Usborne states that the series was shot in response to a childhood memory of being left in the car and feeling as if no one would ever come back for him, if perhaps he would be alone forever. While many of the images feel very much staged with perfect scenes and perfect lighting, it’s clear to me that the dogs weren’t given the agenda and have either settled in for the wait, or are anxiously fretting the return of their person. I really can’t say anything any better than this reviewer, on Yatzer.

Conveying Usborne’s preoccupation with the separation that exists both between humans and (other) animals and between ourselves, ‘The Silence of Dogs in Cars’ is a haunting portrait series of dogs as they sit and wait inside locked vehicles. Setting out to perform a cathartic experiment, the photographer re-enacted the fear that he couldn’t bear as a child. Over the course of more than forty images in the series, Usborne paired a variety of settings and cars to dogs, documenting their commanding reactions as they faced the same fate he did when he was young. Silence and solitude prevail as the canines’ expressions shift from sad to expectant, angry and dejected. Seemingly sheltered and protected, yet utterly vulnerable, they wait, trapped, appearing to be uncertain of what lies ahead.

However, in what appears to be a darker and arguably rather invigorating twist in the portrayal of a pictorial commonplace – the incessantly-photographed ‘man’s best friend’ – we also find a poignant series that hits close to home. Masquerading as animal photography, the series sees Usborne subtly shifting the focus away from his canine subjects, as he projects man’s worries, anxieties and deepest fears onto them. Honest and raw, the images convey an immediate emotional honesty that only animals can express. Behind their uneasy expressions and piercing stares, we recognize a realm of feelings that we usually suppress; the fear of the unknown, the fear of being alone and unheard. A fear universally felt but with no outlet to be expressed. In this vein, Usborne’s mesmerizing images are not so much about dogs but about those horrible feelings that inevitably arise in all of us from time to time.

Horrible feelings indeed. Some of these images brought such emotion to my heart I teared up immediately.

More photos and write up here on Yatzer.




So, so good.

Kelela – The High

I’ve been pinning a lot on Pinterest lately. Both under Maura G and RedCamper. It’s funny how things pop out …like life does, things get thrown at you when you need them most.


led me to this..

Warsan Shire – “For Women Who Are Difficult To Love” from MovingOn & StereoOpticon on Vimeo.

Which made me cry.

And then led me to this book of poems she wrote….

Which I look forward to receiving. That little scribble lead me down a path I’m thankful for.

Here is the authors website. Warsan Shire. 

Warsan Shire