I am my own paparazzi.

End of an Era.

2009-04-10T12:33:00.001-07:00

(Photo - Photo I took of my dad at a Braves game in 2005.)

John Smoltz is no longer an Atlanta Brave.

Baseball season has begun, and the man that was the face of the one Atlanta organization I cheer on with pride, is gone. Smoltz came to Atlanta when I was four years old, an age at which one doesn't typically remember things like team rosters.

My earliest memory as a Braves fan comes from October 1991. My mother and step father had taken my best friend, Lauren, and I to Orlando, FL to go to Disney World for my birthday. I was in the second grade, and the bulk of my memory of that trip comes to mind in the form of a badly themed restaurant for breakfast, and the local paper on the table in front of me. The Braves lost the World Series to the Twins. Bummer.

The next year, third grade, would see a loss to Toronto for the 1992 title, and the start of a fanatical little girl screaming at a television set. The year following that, the Braves wouldn't return to the series, but I would get to sing the National Anthem on the field at Fulton County Stadium with my fourth grade class. And being the klutz that I am, would bump into a warming up Javy Lopez on our way off the field.

By the sixth grade the Braves had returned to the series, against the Cleveland Indians. This was a big series for me, my brothers lived in Cleveland, and considered it home, while I was from Atlanta, and the Braves were all I could see for tomorrow. David Justice had long since replaced Donnie Wahlberg on my walls, and with my face painted half blue, half red, with a white stripe down the middle I set off with my father for the 6th game of the 1995 World Series. Pandemonium doesn't describe the feeling at the stadium that night, and my hero, David Justice was the reason for it all. The only home run in an otherwise scoreless game, the savior of Atlanta Braves baseball, and we all loved him for it.

At the time my father was Vice President of MGR Food Services at the GA World Congress Center and the GA Dome. The official championship party took place that the Congress Center, and my dad came home with two prizes I still hold dear to me. A commemorative gold laced baseball with the 1995 Championship Braves logo, I later got signed by Ted Turner, and a scrap of paper that I still have that reads, "To Austen -David Justice".

This of course is the pinnacle of my Braves memories, games were something I often did with my father, and I'd switch between my Atlanta Journal Consitution sponsored signs that said "Smoke Em Smoltz" and "Neon Deon". That was certainly the height of my Braves fandom, where Smoltz was the best pitcher I'd ever seen, and David Justice could swing a bat like no other.

The Braves broke my heart when they traded David Justice to the very team he'd helped to defeat just over a year later. In Jack Wilkinson's book, Game of my Life ATLANTA BRAVES, I find I'm not the only one to feel that way. "That tore my heart out," Justice recalled. "...All i ever wanted to be was a Brave," Justice said. "That's the team that brought me up. Every trade after that was pure business. But that one really hurt me. The Braves were family."

This brings me to my current situation. It's always the business end that seems to kill the heart of a sport. I know the business is there, and has to be dealt with, I've seen it over and over. I know that the Braves have a reputation as one of the most stable franchises is baseball history, holding a record of fourteen consecutive division titles, they have to make sure they maintain such a reputation. But this doesn't help it. It would appear that this move was the fault of the Braves front office and not that of Smoltzie. To me, he's the face of a team I've loved since I was a child.

To add insult to injury, I'd been so caught up in basketball season that I didn't know about this until somewhat recently. And the news was delivered by none other than my freinemy (only during basketball season) Danny, a Boston native, who having found that his team in basketball can't touch mine this year, delighted in delivering this blow. One could argue, if Smoltzie was going to go anywhere, at least he went to the birthplace of the Braves, blah blah blah.

No. That doesn't work for me. I'm sorry, but being the Laker fan that I am, and after a season of enduring the Celtics beating the Lakers for the 2008 Championship title last year, I think I might actually have gone from hating the Celtics to hating anything to do with Boston (except the New Kids on the Block, though Donnie and I have had our words over this rivalry). And then to have a Boston team step up for a legend when the city he's so lovingly embraced over the years didn't? Kill me please.

Speaking of the Lakers, I'd just like to pause to appreciate where they're at as of today. On their way to the post season with the first place seed locked down, Andrew Bynum back on the floor with 16 points and 7 boards in 21 minutes of play, one game down from Cleveland for the home court advantage, and sitting pretty for the coming playoffs. I'm happy, tell the Celtics we'll send them a postcard from the Finals.

But I digress, looking at the beginning of the next era in Braves baseball, watching the only guy there for all fourteen division titles leave the Braves clubhouse, barely even recognizing him in a Boston uniform, it makes me a little sad. This era was supposed to end with Smoltz retiring as a Brave being inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

So long Smoltzie.

My New York

2009-03-28T05:04:00.000-07:00

My New York by Kathy Jakobsen was given to me by my mother for my 10th birthday on October 7, 1993. It was given to me as part of my larger birthday present, my first trip to New York City. I would be going to New York City with my mother for the first time in my life, just the two of us.

At the time my mother and step father in their advertising business had the Swissotel account, which meant big things for ten year old me. We would be staying in suite at The Drake Hotel located at the corner of Park Ave and 56th St in Manhattan. I suppose one could call it fate, because it was the preferred New York hotel for many of the big touring rock bands of the 60s and 70s. Of course my first New York experience should be in the newly renovated spot that the likes of Led Zepplin and The Who called home on days off, Old Blue Eyes himself had a preference for it as well. For me, at that age New York meant two things that held absolute wonder to me: The FAO Schwartz store on 5th Avenue, and the portrait of my then childhood hero that hung at the Plaza, Eloise.

Upon arrival to this magical hotel, where I would be my very Eloise, I immediately stated that our first priority MUST be FAO. And so we went. I was big into Barbie at the time, and was delighted when I got separated from my mother in the store only to wander into the floor of the store dedicated to Barbie. My first trip also meant something that less than ten years later I would only fully appreciate. I got to see the twin towers of the World Trade Center.

I know that it's not September 11 and it's odd topic to write about, however, I was looking at one of my many photography books tonight, New York September 11. It's a collection of photographs from the Magnum Photographers. I remember exactly where I was that day. I had just begun college at the Savannah College of Art and Design, we'd been there less than a week. I woke up to my cell phone ringing around 9:20AM. My mother was calling, she told me to turn on the TV, two planes had flown directly into the two towers thirty minutes apart. Seventeen minutes later, another flew into the Pentagon in Washington D.C. My roommate, Patty, was from Nutley, NJ, but her mother was a teacher in the city. She was having trouble reaching her. One of my best friends from my newly completed high school years, had a father who was a Delta pilot, scheduled to fly from JFK to Narita in Tokyo that morning. And a sister that lived in the city, he too was having trouble reaching his family members.

I remember sitting in my bed in my dorm room, staring at the TV, not really knowing what to feel. I actually don't think I believed it. I went home that weekend to Atlanta, a four hour trip from Savannah. It wasn't until I saw the photo spread in the New York Times that I fully grasped what had happened. For me, instead of watching it happen over and over again on every major network in the country, seeing the stills of the burning buildings, the people covered in ash running in the streets, the bagel carts abandoned, and the fire fighters digging through rubble, that made it real. The photographer had to see it in her own medium to understand. By then it had been determined that the loved ones of my friends were safe, but in shock. The towers had fallen, the skyline was still covered in smoke, and you still couldn't see what would become the new New York.

I was so overwhelmed with emotion at the sight of these photographs I began to cry. I didn't know how to feel what I was feeling, I was angry, and sad, and in shock. And then I felt envy, envy of what? I didn't want to be there, I was grateful that I wasn't there. Had I not been in New England for most of high school, I might have chosen an art school in New York, it was certainly something I had considered. But because I'd been away from home, I wanted to be near home. Thank God for that.

No my envy did not come from the photographers actual physical presence there, it came from their ability to translate what they were feeling into photographs. The language of grief I had learned to speak by that time in my life was through my lens.

I consider myself a fierce patriot, constantly wanting to learn more about our political process, it's brilliance and it's idiocy, the heroes and the villains, the history and the future. I was never a fan of our recent former President, and the political use of this tragedy that followed sickens me. I know people who've fought in the wars we're in tangled in, and they never had to be there. But what really grabbed me about the book I was looking at tonight was a photo of then recently former President Clinton, embracing the wife of a fire fighter in the streets of New York. It spoke volumes to me of the care for every individual American he had always seemed to have. I think that might have made me the saddest of all, that the man who just left office seemed to have a broader understanding of what had just happened than the man (at the time) currently in office. He stood in the crowd, while the leader of the free world stood on the rubble with a megaphone. He hugged the people while W shouted at the people.

It was a confusing time to be an American. Thousands of people had died in an unspeakable tragedy, the building that holds the keys to our military and our force around the world had just been hit, and it was the first major foreign attack on American soil since Pearl Harbor. It was the first time I truly experienced what I refer to as a "Kennedy moment". The first major event in my life, that I knew from that moment on if the subject came up I would say, "I remember where I was when I heard..."

My nephew Edward would say "Aunt Austie sleepin in the bed." And that was one of the many things that came over me tonight looking at this book. Edward wasn't even born yet, he joined us a few months later. But this amazing little boy, who just turned 8 years old, never saw the New York skyline that I so looked forward two when I was only two years older than he is now. And he and his little sister have been to New York. They've known a place called Ground Zero that I knew as the Twin Towers.

I've been to New York more times than I can count since that first trip, I went to boarding school mere hours from it, I tour with rock bands that take me there regularly, I've advanced and run a show at Mercedes Benz New York Fall Fashion Week, I've been to Broadway Plays, had Captain Crunch Chicken that can only be gotten backstage at MTV in Times Square, I've been to Columbia University football games, I've seen the Met, I've been on carriage rides in central park, shopping with rock stars in SoHo, I've been to the top of the Statue of Liberty, and the Empire State Building. I did social studies reports on Little Italy, which has all but been taken over by Chinatown. I've stood on the balcony of my suite of my five star hotel, lording over My New York as Eloise. And My New York had the Twin Towers.

***Foot note - In writing this blog I looked for an image of the cover of the book My New York, and interestingly enough the only version I could find was the anniversary edition. Which doesn't have the towers on it. I think it absurd that we hide from the memory of imagery of what used to stand there. And very saddening that this book will show children nothing of those towers now. Nut not nearly as sad that any coming generations will only know them as memoriam.

**** The Drake Hotel was demolished in 2007.

***** The photo is on our balcony of our suite on that trip.

The Longest Year(s) of My Life

2009-01-02T09:21:00.000-08:00

Why do we celebrate the New Year?

Is it because we get to write or type something new for a date? If so, then why not celebrate every new month?

No, that wouldn't work.

I suppose it's because in writing out the date, the one constant for three hundred and sixty-five (or sixty-six) days, is the year. And maybe we celebrate because we just get tired of writing the same four numbers in a row.

This year New Years Eve seemed a bit more mellow to me. My theory behind this is two-fold but ultimately comes back to President-Elect Obama. Either people celebrated a new life in November and are looking forward to the actualization of that dream on January 20, or they're mourning the fact that in eighteen days he'll be our president. Either way you slice it, this particular changing of year is a turning point in our civilization worldwide.

Being that I was getting over what I can only assume was the flu, I decided to keep my NYE pretty low key. And because I plan to recognize the new year officially when I can drop the "elect" from the title Obama currently holds. I want to celebrate the idea that we've spoken as a nation for change, and that someone actually might be able to do something to put us in the direction of......putting us back where we were eight years ago.

That's really sad. The change we desire is not as much change as it is time travel. Put us back where we were eight years ago, so that when your (hopefully) eight are up, someone can pick up where you've left off (where Clinton left us as well) and actually change.

That's how bad this time under W has been. We don't even really remember how good it was, and how we were perched on the precipice of greatness as a nation. I've said something before about this once great nation, and it was, and can be again. But I look at this brilliant man about to become the leader of the free world, and I feel something in the nature of pity for him. What a mess he's inheriting, and why do democrats always have to come and clean it up? Why can't we, as a nation have the forethought to prevent this in the first place?

My stepfather wrote a blog about the wonderful life we could have had. You should read it, whoever you are.

I was having a conversation with my old assistant in the not-so-distant past about the America we knew growing up. She's five years younger than me, which it turns out is just the right amount of age difference to not know Clinton as the president of her formative years. William Jefferson Clinton left office in January of my senior year of high school. He was elected while I was in elementary school.

My school had an election in 1992, he won. He was the man that I knew to be the President of the United States, not just then, but overall. Because he was the only living breathing active face to the office I'd ever known. I lived a pretty wonderful young life because of him. I got to do things I may not have had he not restored the middle class. Generally I think the man was a hero, and I'll tell anyone who'll listen as much. I look forward to President-Elect Obama, brilliant in his own right, looking to the first President of the United States to have been a Rhodes Scholar, for advice and as a confidant.

I look forward to Hilary Rodham Clinton serving as Secretary of State, and I look forward to Vice President-Elect Joe Biden. But mostly, right now, I look forward to the celebration of the longest year of my life ending on January 20, 2009. A year so long, it was actually eight.

2008 : A Year That Was...

2008-12-29T23:14:00.000-08:00

I'm sick, it sucks. I'm bored. Because I severely neglected this blog in the year of 2008 I decided it would be good to do a recap.

January :

I rang in the new year at one of my tour manager's homes with friends and a lack of fireworks. And then the year got off to a flu-ish start. It was a relatively uneventful month. But a rumor started that whisper the return of a once famous boy band and my heart skipped a beat.

February:

Was a very busy month. I got to experience the stress/thrill/whatever of dressing a nominated band for the Grammys and the Clive Davis party that preempts it. This month also saw my first professional wrestling experience courtesy of the tour manager of the aforementioned band. The second half of the month was relatively bland.

March :

Brought the visit of my once minion to California, and the busiest day anyone who works for 311 has. I traveled to New Orleans, LA to document what is known officially as 311 Day. Every two years on March 11 (3/11) fans from all over the globe flock to this beautiful city to celebrate their favorite band. And the crew and band prepare for what is our hardest work day of the year. My job in this celebration which has now become a three day event is simple, document every possible thing 311 related in the city of New Orleans for three days. This includes rehearsal on March 10, the official fan party later that night, the pre-party the day of show, the line the day of show, the six hour show, and whatever aftermath comes. Three days of no sleep, more than 50,000 total photos taken, and my first sober trip to NOLA later, I returned to Los Angeles. To embark on a week of not sleeping and turning around photos while narrowing them down to an impossibly low number. At the end of the month I got to shoot Bon Jovi.

Oh, did I forget to mention that? More on that in April.

April :

Daughtry opened for Bon Jovi for about two and a half months. Much of this month was spent documenting this. I got to shoot at the Staples Center, which was incredible and more than I could have ever hoped it to be. Plus, that whole shooting Bon Jovi thing. That was pretty neat. I also got to finally see the Beatles LOVE show by Cirque Du Soleil at the Mirage in Vegas. I've been wanting to see it since it opened. Thanks so much to JB for that one. It was beautiful and it moved me to tears. Also, five bad brothers from the Beantown Land were spotted on national television together for the first time in 15 years.

May :

May was the month of the hospital. I spent just over a week at Cedars Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles for severe abdominal pain. I would go ahead and tell anyone and everyone to NEVER go there for anything outside of say, AIDS. It was a nightmarish experience. They kept me and continued to put me through many painful tests only to come to the conclusion that it was entirely in my head and I was fine. They sent me packing in worse pain than when I arrived, and gave up on me. It had been recommended to me that I go to Century City Doctor's Hospital, I did. They only needed roughly four hours to figure out what Cedars couldn't in a week. I then had to return to hospitalization for another week shortly after for different issues, but I went to Century City, the hospital sucks no matter how you slice it, but at least they know what they're doing there. Both of these experiences were lessons in just how lucky I am to have the amazing friends in Los Angeles that I do. And the most amazing mother in the world. This month also brought the new single "Summertime" by the New Kids on the Block and their Today Show performance that was the first one in 15 years.

June :

June saw that second round of hospital. But it was also when I went into the studio for pre-production with the D. That was an exciting experience due to the people I got to meet from it. I got the opportunity to get in touch with my inner 14 year old and swoon over Gavin Rossdale. And it was also the beginning of the Summer tour for 311 with Snoop Dogg as the opener.

July :

July continued my studio experience and led up to my return to Atlanta to work the hometown show. All of my parents were in attendance for the event. It was also the first 311 day off in the A-town in almost ten years. We went to my father's restaurant that night which was a great amount of fun. I spent some time with my family and my dog and I'd say all in all it was a good month. This was also the month I found out one of my tour managers was pulling double duty for the year, for he was also doing what he does, but with the New Kids on the Block. I almost died.

August :
I stayed in Atlanta long enough to see my sister Maggie get married in Asheville, NC, meet my newest niece, Anna, and celebrate my mother's birthday. It was a wonderful time. This month also saw my return to tour with the D. Oh, and I met Nick Lachey (shhhh don't tell anyone, my crush on him is a guilty pleasure).

September :
September continued the run with the D. Which involved me having to face my fear of prop planes in order to get to Allentown, PA for the Great Allentown Fair. That was....a time. This was probably my favorite month thus far on the road with these guys, it was just fun. We did the 105th Anniversary of Harley Davidson at Summerfest in Milwaukee, WI. Which certainly provided interesting site seeing. I also got to watch Joan Jett and the Black Hearts from just off stage right. That was definitely a high light. Milwaukee is covered in bikers from the view point of a glorified ski lift, in case you were wondering. Meanwhile a few of my friends headed to Canada to begin THAT tour.

October :
October is the month where in we celebrate my birth. But before that happens we celebrate the birth of my friend Toad, and my "little brother" Cody. Then me, me, me. In my previous blog I mentioned how grateful I am for my friend/tour manager Dave. One of the many reasons is because of the gift that was given to me by him for my 25th birthday. I got to meet Donnie Wahlberg. I got to meet the New Kids on the Block. I have a NKOTB laminate. My life, is like, complete. Dave made a dream 18 years in the making come true. And later in the month the other part of that dream came true. I got to shoot them as well. I'm sure things like me returning to Atlanta, other birthdays, reuniting with childhood friends/members of the Reruns, and Halloween happened that month. But ya know, who remembers when Donnie Wahlberg's giving you hugs and talking about a great basketball rivalry with you?

November :
In November I returned to Los Angeles. It was one of those mostly uneventful beginnings. It picked up after that when I had to shoot the red carpet at the American Music Awards as a favor to a friend. Got to photograph my lovely friend Jane as well this month. She's absolutely gorgeous and most likely more photogenic than you are, I'm sorry. I got to attend/hang out at the final New Kids show of the US leg of 2008. Thanks again Dave, by now this was more about spending time with friends than being at a NKOTB show. It was lovely to have so many of my people from other tours around on their tour. I spent turkey day with some extended family (at least that's how I see them) and it was lovely. Then about two days later I booked the BullRun job.

December :

This was mostly covered in my previous blog. But I had a blast on BullRun, a lovely Christmas, I'm sick now, so I'm whatever about New Years. Have you ever had a fever that was high enough to make you feel high? That's where I'm at.

Happy New Year and I'll more with this in the coming year.

Photo Guide:

January : Nathalie and I on NYE.

February : The view of WWE Raw at Staples Center from the suite.

March : The sign marking my territory at 311 Day backstage.

April : Me waiting to dive back into the madness stage right on the D/BJ tour.

May : Totally sexy post hospital IV arm.

June : Snoop Dogg bikes backstage.

July : Various 311 Family at Dante's Down the Hatch.

August : Knute and Todd in the god awful RV given to us as a production office at a festival.

September : Myself and JB high atop Summerfest at Milwaukee on the "Sky Glider".

October : Donnie Wahlberg and myself the day after my 25th birthday backstage at Staples Center.

November : I have November photos and this is like 2 days before Nov, but I wanted to use it so deal with it. Dave and Sarah and myself at Dante's again. I love them both so much.

December : Me and Bill Goldberg on the set of BullRun2, Bill hosts the show and he rules.

A Quarter Century Christmas

2008-12-28T17:02:00.000-08:00

I'm twenty-five now. And I did not spend Christmas with my actual family.

The final month of the beginning of my twenty fifth year on this earth has been a bit of a whirlwind.

The first twenty days were spent on the road with a television show entitled BullRun. I showed up expecting the job to be the TV version of a band assistant on tour, only to find out that it was the TV version of a tour manager. As one of my favorite tour managers to date put it, "You were expecting to have a me, only to find out you were me". Yes, Dave, exactly. He is one of the best people this insane life has given me and I'm forever grateful for him for a list of reasons too long to mention.

I went many places I never would have, saw many things I'd love to tell you about, and encountered things I never expected to. All of which, at some point I can write about after the show has aired.

My life is a stack of non-disclosure agreements.

Arriving back in Los Angeles three days before Christmas Eve and thus having to embark on my shopping adventure in the most commercial city on earth in the middle of holiday madness might make anyone want to kill themselves. But I'd like to thank my twenty days with no real concept of sleep for making me delirious enough to get through it.

Some of my friends I've known my whole life consider the life I lead today to be glamorous and filled with wonder and dreams and money as far as the eye can see. The wonder, dreams, and occasionally the glamour they're absolutely right about. I love my life and am forever grateful that my dreams are coming true. But the money, oh the money. The sad truth they refuse to accept is this: I'm still a broke twenty-something. Just because I work for rockstars doesn't mean I'm loaded.

The point of the aforementioned rant is this, when a flight home for Christmas comes up as $1200 it is considered out of my Hollywood foothills studio price range. And thus I was to be alone for the commercialized birthday of some people's savior. Enter my lovely and wonderful friend Jane.

She and her family(ies) took me under their wings and into their homes for Christmas Eve and Day. I can't express the gratitude and love I have for all of the people involved in this 48 hours of holiday this year. They treated me as their own, they made me laugh, smile, and feel warmth. I even got to witness the innocence of a young child's current belief in the fat man in the red suit. He's still the age of which he not only does believe in Santa Claus, but SHOULD believe in him. And seeing the adults in his life nurture that belief was awe inspiring. I think it is the children who are encouraged to believe in what society deems fictional who will grow into the adults capable of seeing a better future through whatever medium they choose.

I didn't let go of my belief in Santa till years after my peers did, because I didn't want to believe the fantastical wasn't real, that magic of that kind didn't exist. I suppose it's why I still believe in fairies and why Disney has impacted my life the way it has.

I have what I like to think of as a bit of a visual ritual for Christmas. Every year I watch the following on Christmas Eve/Day.

A Charlie Brown Christmas

Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas

The first is part of an entire world envisioned by the late great Charles M. Schulz. And it was also the first animated chapter of the Peanuts universe, sponsored as a television special by the Coca~Cola Company (a company who's products I'm a fan of, but more importantly who's historical ad art I'm even more a fan of). It tells the story of Charlie Brown searching for the true meaning of Christmas through his friends, his legendary dog, and the saddest Christmas tree you've ever seen. I fully support this tree because due to a severe pine allergy I am essentially allergic to Christmas (which made Jane's father's enormous tree a full scale red alert of fear for me, and somehow managed to come in contact with my chin to the tune of swelling and itching for about an hour during the gift exchange).

The second is the movie I credit with changing my life. Tim Burton showed me that anyone could see the world ANY way they wanted through this film. And this year my friend Sarah gave me the gift of the newest special edition version of the movie at her gift exchange on Christmas Eve Eve (which marked the thirteenth anniversary of my receiving the best Christmas gift ever, my very own Snoopy). I didn't purchase this edition when it came out in October, the beginning of the yearly Nightmare marketing season (which to the joy of Touchstone and Disney runs from the beginning of October through the end of December) because I've bought the movie in so many forms and I am as a stated a broke twenty something. The gift that Tim Burton gave to those of us who love this movie this time around is the commentary of it with him, Danny Elfman, and Henry Selick (Selick directed the movie, not Burton, contrary to general popular belief). I won't expand much further on this topic, as I have blogged about it before.

And so on Christmas night I lay in my bed listening to three people who made this movie happen. Who helped me expand my mind fifteen years ago at the age of twelve when I first saw it in theaters.

The holidays also tend to make me miss the loved ones I've lost over the years, and unfortunately in my so far, short life, it is many. My grandmother would have spent all of November and December making microwavable electric free heating pads for elderly people (because she was never in such a category having left us just three weeks after her 70th birthday). My wonderful sponsor in the Episcopal Church would have been celebrating his eighth Christmas with his son, my cousin would have been doing something I expect to be great had she lived long enough to discovery the gift of sobriety that I got to. My friend Ben making music I'm sure, and so on. The holidays however we celebrate are a time for family. And though I didn't have my blood relatives with me, I was able to appreciate the love and generosity of the people I count as family in Los Angeles in a whole new way.

I'm extremely grateful for these people that I love so much and more than anyone this holiday to Jane and her family(ies) for opening their homes, dinner tables, and Christmas trees (RUN!) to me so I didn't have to spend that time alone in my studio staring at the tour duffel I've pined for that my mother and stepfather so graciously gave me.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

In The Foothills of Life.

2008-07-01T02:13:00.000-07:00

I moved.

Again.

I live in the foothills of Hollywood, now two blocks behind some of the landmarks of the silver screen I mentioned when Jamison and Sheila came out to visit. It has been an interesting and peaceful experience, much to my surprise.

I took a walk to the gas station the day after I moved in, and after a mere five minutes found myself face to face with Hollywood & Highland, which I admit, I found disturbing. I didn't know how to feel about living so close to, rather--in, tourist town USA. But I'm a block from the Magic Castle, and enjoying some of the mystic energy of the hills.

Not to be confused with the energy I was feeling at my friend's house last summer. This is a different part of the Hollywood Hills, one with from what I understand, a much less bloody history. The part where he lives is not too far from both the sites of the Wonderland Murders and Sharon Tate's murder. That combined with the interesting history of the Laurel Canyon "neighborhood" that is tied to music, provides a very odd energy, and there's just too much going on for me to feel at peace there. But here, near the base of Runyon Canyon Park, I'm quite happy.

My building was a residence hotel in the 1920's, the Hollywood I would have liked to witness, and the style of the building suits it as such. One of the things I intend to do, because I pass it so much these days, is hike up to the "Cross on Cahuenga", which is the cross that overlooks the city of Hollywood from a hilltop off the 101 freeway. I've always felt a draw to this cross, not religious, just something about the iconic force that it unwillingly imposes on the city. And I'm curious to see the view of the cross itself. The first time I saw it I was ten years old. I love the way it looks when it's lit at night, silently, peacefully, welcomed and not, watching over the city.

One thing I'm grateful for in living so close to the Magic Castle, is that, I've been there before. I had wanted to go for roughly 15 years when I finally was extended an invitation (it's invite only) for a friend's birthday party. It was an amazing experience, and mostly didn't disappoint. The building itself seems roughly three times the size on the inside than it is on the out. Had I not been there already, it would sit there, my mocking neighbor; for the Magic Castle is a member's only club.

Thus I begin my journey of life in Hollywood, as I try to avoid becoming a cliché.

(I took the photo of the Hollywood Sign above about two months ago when a friend came out from Atlanta for a short visit.)

The Million Dollar Hotel

2007-11-16T00:18:00.000-08:00

A return from hiatus.
I moved.
That's the view from my roof.

I live in downtown Los Angeles now. This is a big deal for me. I've broken free of the mold I had created for myself within this city. I spent the summer house sitting for one of my good friends in Hollywood Hills. I enjoyed the time I spent with his dog, but I won't lie, there's something up there that I don't like. I can't quite put my finger on it, just an energy that I'm not crazy about. As the summer drew to a close and his tour was winding down, I began searching for a new place to call home.

This time instead of the four block radius I had confined myself to since I was 19, I decided to branch out. And thus, downtown. I'm now living in a 3700 square foot penthouse loft with two other people. I love it. It's a house on top of a building. My room is pink and black and I feel very at home here.

One of the things I love about living downtown is that it doesn't necessarily feel like LA. Which is ironic, because they're always filming SOMETHING. But that's exactly why. Downtown Los Angeles can be made to look like anything. My first week my street had surreptitiously overnight been transformed into San Francisco.
I found myself walking to the market next to trolleys.

Another morning I awoke with a start to discover that it sounded like someone was being shot outside my window. I apparently had neglected to see the FILMING NOTICE : SINGLE SHOT GUNFIRE 7AM-10PM slip that had been posted on our building's door the night before.

But none of my stories come close to trumping that of a friend who lives a few blocks away. Said friend woke one morning to find Armageddon outside his window. The street looked as though an atomic bomb had gone off. There was a huge crater in the earth and before he had the chance to figure out what was going on cars started exploding and flying into the air.
Shortly after this he saw the director.

Will Smith is soon to be saving the world post asteroid hit.
Or something like that, I dunno, they were filming a car scene for that movie outside my neighborhood market. It was a big ordeal just to get in to buy some milk.

So living downtown has provided me with a completely different view of this city. I'm sitting at my desk staring out the window at the Million Dollar Rosslyn Hotel. Home of one of my favorite movies "The Million Dollar Hotel". I recognized it the minute I saw it.

And then felt at home.

The Devil You Know Is Better Than The Devil You Don't, So I'll Stick With The Devil I Got...Or Will I?

2007-05-30T16:05:00.001-07:00

I was going to write a blog about Game Night a while back, in which among others my friends Zack, Molly, and I took part. That night we played the Milton Bradley version of the Game of LIFE. Which unlike this life, comes with a manual, known as the rule book. And you can't really throw caution to the wind and just say "We're going to live this LIFE off-book!" Like really, the game would NEVER end. Think of it as the MiltonBradley version of the book given to Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis in Beetle Juice (The Handbook for the Recently Deceased). It should be read cover to cover and kept at your side at all times. Right down to the moment you determine if you retire at Millionaire Estates with lots of apparently useless assets, or at SunnySide Acres for the less fortunate folk. Either way this game called LIFE seems to never actually end. You're just eternally trapped in a house with other old people who never die. Because it's a little too PG for LIFE to include death.

That's right, according to MiltonBradley the hereafter is a room full of other old tattooed people in rocking chairs. At least for my generation.

I could go on and on about the time that was had here but there's a disappointment that comes in this game that I'm going to liken to something that's happening in this life. In the Game of LIFE there is the coveted $100,000 salary card. And throughout the board there are spaces that for various reasons end in "Trade Salary Cards With Any Other Player". Sometimes you rejoice in your acquisition of this card a little too early. Because you may have to forfeit it before you ever hit a Pay Day, and sometimes you at least get to pass a few of those lovely green spaces before you must let it go.

Here is where we Laker fans find ourselves. Kobe Bryant has demanded a trade. Sure he recanted a few hours later, but it's a bell that cannot be un-rung. I should take this moment to point out that KB24 is the coveted $!00,000 card in the NBA and that we've passed three of these metaphorical Pay Day spaces in the form of three championships in the eleven years that he's been in LA.
But much like having to watch the other player land on that space and knowing instantly you're the target because of the card you hold, and having the impending fear of loss, here we sit waiting to see what the fate of Kobe, the Lakers, and Phil Jackson's last remaining years as a coach have in store.

Not to mention the upheaval that will happen in whatever team would get the Black Mamba. Because he's not a one for one trade. He's the best player in the NBA and his worth might be indefinable. Listening to the interview today on the Stephen A Smith show I had a few thoughts, but before we get there let us back track to the twenty four hours that preceded this one.

Yesterday Kobe said he wanted Jerry West to return to the land where the rivers (if we had any) run purple and gold. That he trusted Jerry one hundred percent. This should have been a warning sign. Here he showed us that he felt the need to point out his absolute trust in Jerry, and then he went on to say that his trust in the Lakers front office had been damaged because of something that came from a "Laker Insider". This insider essentially told the LA Times that it was entirely Kobe's fault that Shaq was traded. That it was due to his insistence.

And Kobe then revealed to the world what many of us in Laker Land already suspected. That the trade that took place at the end of the 2003-2004 season of Shaquille O'Neal came not born of a school yard squabble between KB8 and the MDE (Most Dominant Ever), but because the latter was fast becoming the MDBT (Most Dominant Back Then) and that financially and otherwise Shaq had become a liability for the Lakers and not an asset. And an expensive liability with bad knees who was putting on weight, aging, and slowing down. That Kobe was where they wanted to invest their time and money because he had youth and athleticism on his side and that the big man was simply a let down and a money pit for the team.

This came to light the same day that Dr. Buss was arrested in Carlsbad for a DUI after being caught driving the wrong way down a one-way street. Let's get a nice big cheer for being the face of responsibility at the right time. Way to go Buss!

Friends of Jerry West started telling the press that he was unlikely to step back in to the GM position out respect for Mitch Kupchak and not wanting to undermine his authority. Because Mitch, after all is Jerry's protege. Personally my thoughts on this were that I don't like Mitch very much and I think he's awful at the job, but what do I know? I'm a rock star photographer, not a sports executive. And I felt like there had to be something he'd done right, since he has one of the hardest jobs to attain in professional sports.

And then the proverbial shit hit the fan today on the radio waves of ESPN. Kobe said there was nothing the Lakers could to to repair the trust that has been broken. He said "I'd play on Pluto as long as I'm getting to play basketball I don't care where it is, just not here." Ouch. So here is where I have my thoughts:

1. Kobe had already made his intentions to be the rare franchise player, a Laker for life, very clear to the city I call home. Something so rare for a "superduperstar" to do, usually they go where the rings and the money are. That's the way it works. The money was in LA and the hope that if he were to stay a Laker and retire a Laker, rings could become a factor again at some point. But he'd said that he wanted to retire a Laker. So why then can the front office not respect the commitment he's made to the team, the city, and the organization? Why can they not understand that trust is something he needs to have in they who control his entire life?

2. It appears that this mainly falls on the shoulders of Mitch Kupchak. In Phil's last book The Last Season : A Team In Search of It's Soul he mentioned his meeting with Mitch in March of 2004 where he expressed his frustration with Kobe. And it was this meeting that led Mitch to prematurely tell Dr. Buss that if Kobe was in, Phil was out. This is what is publicly known. Then Kobe tells us what they told him about Shaq, "they" absolutely would HAVE to include Mitch. And that then leads us to wonder what they told Shaq about Kobe? And Phil? And Kobe? And Shaq? And Phil? And Kobe? Look! It's a triangle! Just not the one we WANT to exist in LA.

3. Driving home the second point, SHAQ BACKED UP KOBE on the statement he made about why he was traded. Ok guys if Kobe and Shaq are agreeing on something, publicly, and it all comes back to Mitch and Dr. Buss...

4. Where does Kobe go from here? He recanted a few hours later. And he's still got two years before he can option out of his contract, so the Lakers can MAKE him stay. But if they do, will we get the Kobe we want? Or will he be too angry and hurt to play his best? Does he go to Chicago to try and follow in the footsteps of MJ and return the once great city to glory? With Ben Wallace as his new big man? The same Big Ben who ripped his heart out in the 2004 Detroit/Los Angeles Finals? Will my eyes bleed at the site of Kobe in any colors other than purple and gold? Will my Laker heart tattoo break at the site of his departure?

5. Mitch should be fired, and then roasted on a spit at a city wide bonfire for fucking this one up. (Side bar your Honor? Here I should point out that it was Mitch's mentor, Jerry West, who brought Kobe to Los Angeles, and now this protege that he supposedly would put ahead of his own career is the man responsible for Kobe's possible departure. Yup.)

6. Kobe or no Kobe let's bring back Jerry, cause things were better when he was making the big decisions.*
*See above side bar.

7. I hate that I'm in Atlanta while this is happening because my friends here are REALLY enjoying this.

8. Playing the devil's advocate for a moment. Does a man who makes as much money as Kobe really have the right to complain about anything? Additionally he makes the money he does to play a game that he loves.

9. I think I'll live as long as Luke stays in purple and gold.

So I leave you with this quote from Studio 60:

Your side hates my side because you think we think you're stupid, and my side hates your side because we think you're stupid.

Art vs Commerce in the form of the NBA.
Go Lakers.

If I Could Paint You The Way I Want You...Would I?

2007-05-27T22:51:00.000-07:00

I haven't updated in quite a while. I would say that is due to my not having anything to say, but that would be a lie. I've had lots to say, just nothing I wanted to share with the whole world.
I'm in Atlanta at the moment and I've begun a process of identifying with the girl from the south. I got a new tattoo, you can see that to the left there.
I spent the better part of my life since I was 19 trying very hard to be "LA Austen" and anything but "Georgia Austen". They're two different people and there's a time and place for each, but now what I'm working on is really discovering who the latter is, and then ultimately I'd like to two to merge and become me. The South is such a magical place, and full of mystic darkness to me. And it's that mystic darkness where I feel the safest and I feel like I'm truly home. It's something I don't feel anywhere but in the woods on a humid summer southern night. The spirits like to dance here, and it's here where I feel most protected against the things that harm me. Which is ironic, because I've spent the last five years fearing this place. The air is thick and sweet here and it brings back memories of a child who didn't know what life had in store, and who thought "mid-twenties" was ancient.
As I'm fast approaching this landmark in time, I'm beginning to hope that little girl was wrong about where 24 will fit into the time line of my life.
As a teenager I romanticized the idea of a short life filled with flare and going out in flames before my time leaving some sort of permanent mark to be only fully appreciated posthumously. Now, with my friends beginning to get married, and forcing me back into our memories, I hope I was wrong about that feeling.
My friend Dave is getting married in less than a week, he's one of the most southern people I know in my peer group. He's also one of the best men I know and I'm honoured to have spent the last decade calling him friend. I have many good memories with him, and I look forward to bearing witness to this next chapter in his life.
I don't want to spend my whole life in Los Angeles. I love it out there for sure, but there's something that my hypothetical children would be remiss to not have if they were to grow up anywhere but the south. I know so many people feel that way about where there from, but I suffer from a disease of terminal uniqueness and I'm right in a way that you're wrong.
I got to grow up with a grandmother who knew the value of family in a way only a woman from the heart of the south, the middle child of seven, and the only girl could know. Mary Ellen Baird is such a big part of my becoming me. And I couldn't be prouder to call her my grandmother. I miss her, I miss the farm, I miss the connection to this deeply suppressed part of me that she made. I started shutting out the southern girl in me the day Gandy died. I know that now.
I'm on a path of self-discovery and I'm in love with life, and this part of the country, and I feel so protected deep in the southern woods. I feel the cool sticky pre-summer air wrap around me and hold me close like it did when I was a child. And I know that she's here with me.

Incase You Missed the Thought Train.

2007-03-15T01:37:00.000-07:00

So. I got mildly distracted. I had friends in town from Atlanta, I've been working far too much, I started a new large tattoo, Phil Jackson hates Jesus, American Idol, I hate bad television, and RIP Studio 60?

Two of my good friends came to visit the leftern side of this once great nation last week. It was a good time and I was more of a tourist in this town than I've been since the age of ten (I don't think that counted grammatically as a legitimate rhyme but it sure was fun to say in my self made rapper radiohead. Actually that particular session had more of a Sandra Bullock in Two Weeks Notice delivery than anything else.) Most of it was more than it's fair share of fun and here's what I got out of it:

There's a lot of history in this amazing town that built the silver screen that I adore so. I spent a few months working on the lot where Gone With the Wind was filmed and never took the time to explore. I was too caught up in what was really a bad television show to take the time to indulge both the southerner born and raised in Atlanta, GA and the movie nerd. I should have. Alas. But it's not just that, we were in Hollywood outside Mann's and I started to think about how truly cool the history that lives on Hollywood Blvd is. The people that it represents and immortalizes are people who built this town.

I've begun the work on my first side panel tattoo (didn't you really enjoy my transitional conversation with myself that happened between those two paragraphs. I say it that way cause I was the only one who heard it, that I know about.) It's Georgia, California, and Italy, it's big. For me this is the "home" tattoo. It's symbolic of where I'm from, my adopted home, and the part of my family that I most often relate to and have endless amounts of curiosity about.

Phil Jackson doesn't hate Jesus, as far as I know, but his comment is being blown so far out of proportion I just want to club America over the head with John Lennon. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about: When asked about all the injuries the team has had this season and what kind of difference it might make to have guys like Lamar and Luke back Phil told the LA Times this: "The way they are playing now, it doesn't matter who comes back," said Lakers Coach Phil Jackson, obviously upset. "Jesus Christ could come back and we still wouldn't have a chance because we've ruined the mix by not playing together." All the man means is that they're not used to playing with each other this season because they HAVEN'T played together, so at this point it doesn't matter if they're starters or they've never seen a minute of pro ball.

I think a line from Studio 60 fits nicely here: "Half the shows in prime time start with two strippers getting strangled after a lap dance, and that's fine with me but if it's also fine with Jesus then I don't see the need to tiptoe around his name." Ah, Aaron Sorkin, how I admire thee. I'm saddened to have to come to the realization that I should prepare myself for what appears to be the inevitable cancellation of Studio 60. It may be true. It was pulled a week early for it's scheduled hiatus, and there's been no announcement of when to expect it back. That crap show about the Irish mob has replaced it in the 10pm time slot on Monday nights. This happens at the same time that one of my friends has been voted off of American Idol.

I think that I'm beginning to lose my already waning faith in the small screen. There used to be a commitment to good television. Shows like the The Addams Family and The Munsters had a commitment to delivering something worth watching every time you turned on the TV. I spent the last two months heavily invested in American Idol and each episode I watched made me feel like I was losing a little more of my artistic soul. When I watch television I watch the History Channel, or TVLand mostly. I don't get the obsession everyone seems to have with Heroes, nor will i EVER understand what the big deal about LOST is. I miss the West Wing, and I'll miss Studio 60. One of the best things about Aaron Sorkin is that he brings big screen to the small. It's not a step backward in an actor's career to commit to one of his shows. Anyway back to the personification of below average intelligence, American Idol.

Brandon Rogers made it to the top 12, which is a feat in and of itself. He still gets to throw down a song for the Season 6 CD and 60 million people now know who he is. And while I still have faith in his abilities as a talented artist, and I am saddened for him that he was voted off, I'm glad to not be watching the show anymore. I have decided that I hate American Idol. Hate is not a word I use lightly, or ever for that matter. But I feel like this show is contributing heavily to the downward spiral of music. I'm sad that I didn't see the Brandon as a performer that I know is inside him, because I honestly never saw a single performance out of any of the contestants that was anything special or different. Brandon is capable of such things, it's just a shame America didn't get to see that. But really where the fuck are the movers and the shakers? And why am I watching American Idol trying to find them? When I think about the fact that this joke of a television show is allowed to remain on the air and people actually vote for Sanjaya, or that i know his name; while intelligent programming for people who actually use their brains is ripped off the air, I get very angry.

Studio 60 in spite of what it's critics will have you think is both compelling drama and intelligent comedy, but that may be the nail in it's metaphorical coffin. I don't think that most of this country is at the IQ level that Aaron Sorkin and Thommy Schlamme were hoping they are. Though the president of the show's fictional network, NBS, wanted greatly to believe that the average American is that smart. I have found the adult equivalent to My So-Called Life, a show over before it's time. Let the Studio 60 fan fic begin.

I've read the arguments that people don't think the sketches in Studio 60's show within the show are funny, here's what I have to say to that:

Click Me to See Great Television

Fight Evil, Read Books.

2007-03-05T04:38:00.000-08:00

So sayeth the amplifier of The Remus Lupins. This is a one man wizard rock band, and the one man is my friend Alex.

Alex as the Remus Lupins was recently the recipient of the following Wizard Rock People's Choice Awards:

Best Male Vocals
Best Album of 2006 (Spells From A Broken Wand)
Best Solo Artist
Band of the Year
Best Holiday Song of 2006 (Alone on Valentine's Day)
Best Album Art (This one went to our friend Brandon)

And he won an honorary t-shirt.

Let's back up for a moment just in case you think you're halucinating. Yes I'm currently writing a blog about my friend who is a one man band that sings about Harry Potter.
Now that we've gotten that part out of the way back to it.

Wizard Rock is now a like legitimate genre, with it's own wikipedia entry and everything:

Wizard rock is a musical movement dating from 2002 that consists of a number of bands formed by young musicians playing songs about J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter literary phenomenon. The lyrics are usually humorous and simple, and many bands write songs from the point of view of a particular character in the books, usually the character who features in the band's name. If they are performing live, they may also cosplay that character. Though most fans of the music are previous fans of Harry Potter, some bands have attracted listeners outside of the Harry Potter fanbase. Wizard rock has recently evolved to become deeper and more refined.

In contrast to mainstream bands like Led Zeppelin that have some songs incorporating literary references (notably The Lord of the Rings) among a wider repertoire of music, the majority of wizard rock bands such as Harry and the Potters, Draco and the Malfoys, The Remus Lupins, The Parselmouths, The Moaning Myrtles, The Whomping Willows, The Hungarian Horntails, and The Cruciatus Curse take their inspiration entirely from the Harry Potter universe.

Yup, there's a feature length documentary being made about the genre as well. And recently Alex was mentioned in TIME magazine. There's a big following for this, at least more than one might expect. He's toured throughout the country and from what I understand is known as a very well received artist within this community.

In July my roommate and I are going to be at our local Border's at midnight for the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, we've both reserved copies.

So that's food for thought, I took that photo at his show on Sunday March 4, 2007 at the Knitting Factory in Hollywood. If you want to see the rest of the photos from that show you can click here.

Idol Conflictions.

2007-03-02T00:45:00.001-08:00

Systemic lupus erythematosus SLE or Lupus) is a chronic autoimmune disease that is potentially debilitating and sometimes fatal as the immune system attacks the body’s cells and tissue, resulting in inflammation and tissue damage. SLE can affect any part of the body, but most often harms the heart, joints, skin, lungs, blood vessels, liver, kidneys, and nervous system. The course of the disease is unpredictable, with periods of illness (called flares) alternating with remission. Lupus can occur at any age, but is most common in women and particularly non-Caucasian women. Lupus is treatable symptomatically, mainly with corticosteroids and immunosuppressants, though as of 2007 there is no cure. The origins of the name are uncertain, but may derive from a characteristic reddish rash that purportedly resembles a wolf's face. - Wikipedia

I never thought that American Idol would make me cry.
I was wrong.

Tonight after arriving home from work I sat down to watch the TiVo'd episode that had aired earlier. I already knew that Brandon made it safely to the next round because our friend Zack went to see the taping tonight and I couldn't take the anxiety not knowing was causing me, so I allowed him to spoil it for me. But, I still watched when I got home to see how Brandon fared in the cheesy group sing along and to see if Zack made it on camera.

The final casualty of the night was the only other person I'd be happy to see win: Leslie Hunt.

Up until yesterday I'd been saying that the only person I wanted to win was Brandon. I lied. I at least wanted to see Leslie make it through to the final three. There's a reason for this, aside from her talent. Leslie has lupus.

So does my favorite woman in the world, my mother.

It may sound odd to you that I wanted Leslie to go far in the competition because of her lupus, but it's true, I did. You see, what lupus lacks that so many other causes have is a celebrity face to help bring in the money. The study of this disease has been put on the back burner by the government for over forty years. Which is how long it's been since the FDA has approved a new treatment for it. It's categorized as "treatable" but it's treatments are painful and archaic. It's seen by some as "not that serious" because they're comparing it to cancer or AIDS in their heads. But what they don't know is that it's hard to live with and just as serious. And the only reason they don't know is because there isn't enough awareness about this disease.

I'm a person who hyper-focuses on the details of a scene around me. My mother told me the other day while we were recapping our thoughts on Brandon's Tuesday night performance that she'd received her LUPUS FOUNDATION OF AMERICA newsletter and that it mentioned that one of the top 10 girls had lupus. Instantly I knew which one it was. I had noticed last week during the girls' night that Leslie's hands looked familiar. She has my mother's hands. They've aged beyond her years (she and I are roughly the same age, I'm 23, she's 24), the skin's got a different translucence than most, and they look oddly fragile like a porcelain doll's. And then I thought about her neckline, the skin had the same quality of translucence that I've seen on only two people before in my life, my mother's and my cousin's, both of whom have lupus.

Growing up with a parent who has a chronic illness is a scary thing. I remember the first time I saw my mother in the hospital, I was in middle school and I didn't understand what was happening. I remember walking into her room with the window in front of me and my stepfather standing in front of it with his face in shadow because he was back lit because the sun was shining. My mother lay in her hospital bed to my left and there were machines and IVs attached to her. It was the scariest thing I've ever seen. She looked frail and sick. In the sixth grade your parents are supposed to still be super heroes. And in spite of the fact that to me, she could do anything, life had found her kryptonite.

A few months earlier we (my mother, me, my stepfather, and one of my sisters) had gone on a vacation to California and Oregon. We visited Los Angeles on that trip, I was 11. It was the first time I'd been to LA, we rented a Ford Mustang and stayed at a hotel in Beverly Hills called the Sofitel, across from the Beverly Center, the largest mall I'd ever seen. On that first day I told my mother that someday I would live in this town. We spent a lot of time in the sun on that trip, between the convertible, and going to Venice Beach and everything in between. That trip was the final catalyst in setting off my mother's as yet undiagnosed lupus. Lupus and the sun aren't friends. On the very same trip where I found the city I would one day call home, my mother's life began to change.

For as long as I can remember she's been sick. It took a long time for "them" to figure out what was wrong with her. She has one of the most commonly misdiagnosed diseases known to man. The symptoms are so common with so many other things, and it's very hard to diagnose because of this. Treatment for it is very hard on the patient's body. The steroids they use to treat her flareups make her feel sicker than the disease itself.

I want there to be an answer to her pain. I want there to be a cure. I want there to be more awareness of this disease. Leslie making it further in the competition would help this. Because it's always the sister or wife of someone famous that has lupus, and not the celebrity themselves. Think about how much sway pop culture carries. And think about how many spots you see with "A" List celebrities telling you how important funding for cancer research is. Think about how Brangelina wants you to give your money to AIDS research. Then think about the last time you saw a commercial telling you what it costs a lupus patient to live?
Think about the last time Madonna told you that lupus was just as serious as cancer and that, like cancer, only the people who can afford the care get to live? Or that the deductible for someone who has lupus on their medical insurance can actually prevent them from getting the care they need till the year's end.

Oh wait, that's right, she didn't.

I've lived everyday of the last thirteen years worrying about my mother. I can't make it stop, I can't turn it off. I won't be able to until there's a cure for what she suffers from. I'm scared for my cousin's children, who someday will be old enough to understand that their mother is sick, and I know what they will have to go through. I don't want them to have to.

I'm sorry for the people who suffer from this disease that hoped Leslie would be their voice in the spotlight, I'm sorry that they may have lost that chance tonight.

GO:

LUPUS FOUNDATION OF AMERICA
LUPUS LA
DOROUGH LUPUS FOUNDATION
LUPUS INTERNATIONAL

I took that photo with my sidekick yesterday at during sunset. It's the Santa Monica Pier. I chose that picture for this blog because Santa Monica is my mother's favorite part of Southern California.

To Smith Or Not To Smith?

2007-02-27T13:34:00.000-08:00

"Anybody who knows me knows I would never read a comic book. And I certainly would never read anything written by Kevin Smith." - Tim Burton

I know it seems that I've been blogging about not just film, but Tim Burton specifically a lot lately. Well it's because lately, more than ever I finally feel focused on a goal, like all of my artistic journey to this point was coming to the moment where I really figured it out. What I was put on this earth to do. I was inspired by my friend Kristin's blog about her monthly brunch with her group of girls she's had forever. I don't have that. I have clusters of friends, and I have individually specific best friends, and we have mutual friends, but I'm not that person. Who has that group of four. I know plenty of people that do, but as I mentioned in my blog earlier. my friends who filled that role were movie characters.

I feel like that's why I connect to Burton as much as I do. At least that's some of it. In so much of his work there are protagonists who are the odd kid out, the quirky, dark, eccentric one that no one understands. That was me. And each of these characters when they realize they aren't like everyone else retreats into some form of art. I said OK you think I'm not cool, great, I like cameras, I'm gonna go work for rock stars. And that's what I did. But I always found my true escape in movies.

There's another director who speaks to the lonely kid, though a different kind of lonely kid. Kevin Smith speaks to the kids I went to computer camp with (yes, I went, and worked there too, what of it?). He's great in his own way. I love his movies. I like that he says he made a movie with a rubber poop monster and in that movie he used dick and fart jokes to spread the word of God. What I don't like is his attitude toward Tim Burton. The above quote is from Page Six of the NY Post a few years back during the whole Superman Lives debacle. For those of you who don't know about it, once upon a time there was to be a movie called Superman Lives and Kevin Smith was one of the people that Warner Bros brought in to write the script, Burton was to be the director. Didn't quite pan out. And when Kevin Smith saw Planet of the Apes (yeah not my favorite Burton moment) he made a comment to a gossip columnist about the scene where the chimps turn the Lincoln Memorial into their own thing. Saying that it was in a comic book series starring Jay and Silent Bob that he'd written. And though Smith says he was just kidding, I don't think he was. Burton apparently took offense and that was the quote that ran with the story.

I doubt he doesn't read comic books. It was probably a heated moment where he was just angry at what he was being accused of. But in an Evening With Kevin Smith, when asked about the incident Kevin Smith is arrogant and smug. He took shots at Tim Burton's appearance and persona that were uncalled for and unrelated to the topic at hand. I just felt like it was unnecessary, and though I love him. I just can't hang with that. This is one of those aforementioned topics where I refuse to budge. Because while I like them both as directors, I see Burton as the true visionary and Kevin Smith as the one who speaks to the pocket protector crowd.

They both have their place in pop culture, because the reality for them is that for better or worse they're part of it, but the question we must all face is this: To Smith Or Not To Smith?

Thank you.

Oh yeah, that's current me for you parent types that miss my face.

The City She Loves Me.

2007-02-27T03:47:00.000-08:00

I walked to work today. It was interesting to walk the two miles it is from my house to the store. I can't tell you how strange it was to really see the street I've been down about a million times in the time that I've spent in this neighborhood.

I'd never really SEEN it, cause you don't pay attention when you're driving.

That picture's from my sidekick, I took it on my way to work.

We All Know Interspecies Romance Is Weird.

2007-02-26T04:16:00.000-08:00

"Movies are like an expensive form of therapy for me." - Tim Burton

I don't think I've ever related to a quote more than that one. Tonight I watched the Oscars with my roommate, his girlfriend, his girl friend, and halfway through, his friend who is sleeping on our couch.

I need to go ahead and say that all of these people are wonderful people. I'm just a fucking snob. I get frustrated when it comes to talking movies with non visual people. Watching a movie is a very personal thing for me, and it always has been. Growing up my best friends were Dumbo, Eeyore, Ariel, Jack Skellington, Sally, Frosty, Dorothy, and Snoopy. I suppose because my fascination with motion pictures is founded mainly in animation it makes sense that I find my main inspiration in an animator turned director/producer. I've always found my escape in movies. I love them so deeply, and I think it's great that Martin Scorsese finally won an Oscar. Fucking awesome.

But holy shit I wanted to just retreat into my room and watch the awards alone. I was reminded why I've never been able to watch these particular awards in a party setting. I have a profound respect for these awards and what they mean to the people involved in them. Yes I enjoy the fashion, but that's not what it's about for me. It's about watching someone achieve what it means to win an Oscar. So many awards shows have been cheapened by life, but this one is still sacred. It's still THAT hard to win one of these things. Tim Burton, who to me is a god among men, has only been nominated for ONE Academy Award, and that was for Corpse Bride for Best Animated Feature Film of the Year which was won by Wallace and Gromet. So my point is, that to me, on this night, the Kodak Theater is hallowed ground. And to have people yap through it, just irks me.

I'm a little on the OCD side of things. So I can't imagine trying to watch these awards with me. It must be a nightmare. But unfortunately, this part of me is part of how I'm able to be good at what I do. I have this insane attention to detail that springs from it, and it's something that has helped me immensely in my art.

Anyway, so my friends who know me well know that there are a lot of topics that I just refuse to budge on. I cannot be swayed from my side of the argument. The Lakers being forever the best franchise in sports history, Phil Jackson having god like qualities, Tim Burton being the best thing to happen to film since well, anything, and so on. One of the more narrow and under analyzed examples would be what happened at the Oscars in 1999. Edward Norton was nominated for the award for Best Actor in a Leading Role, and so was an Italian director/actor named Roberto Benigni. Norton was nominated for his portrayal of a reformed Neo-Nazi skinhead in American History X. Benigni for his role as a Jewish man during the Holocaust in La Vita è Bella, or Life is Beautiful. Benigni won. And if you'll remember he did that whole jumping over the seats thing.

So, here's where to me, it gets dicey. Personally I feel that Norton should have been the one to take Oscar home that night. I think that the challenges he faced in convincing the audience of the two polar opposite views of life the character portrays would be greater than those that Benigni faced in playing his character. Obviously I don't know for sure, since I'm neither of these men, nor was I there for the making of either film. But let's break it down, shall we?

Norton's Character (Derek Vineyard):
- Plays a young man who, having been brainwashed by his father and mother becomes a member of a Neo-Nazi skinhead gang.
- This young man grows up living a modern day version of the life that Hitler envisioned.
- This young man hates people of other races and religions. Particularly African Americans and people of the Jewish faith.
- Vineyard rises to a certain stature as a leader within his small community.
- He kills two African American men in the movie, and gets sent to prison for this offense.
- While in prison he initially goes to his "own kind", the other Neo-Nazis who're already there, in search of their friendship.
- His work assignment lands him in the laundry sector with an inmate who's black. Who he befriends.
- He slowly becomes aware of what's wrong with the way he's been living his life and the close minded way he's viewed the world.
- "His kind" turn on him and gang rape him in the showers.
- With the help of his former high school principal, a black man, he gets paroled.
- Upon his release he finds that his younger brother, Danny, has followed in his previous footsteps and become very involved in the gang Derek left behind.
- Derek begs Danny to get out, and to see the world as he's been opened up to it. But Danny has always looked up to who his brother was, and was proud of his brother's actions.
- Within a day of Derek's release from prison, Danny is shot and killed in the bathroom of his high school (the same one that Derek attended), by another student, who is black. This student is one that Danny had a run in with early on in the movie, due to his racism. In this scene, Norton displays the profound grief of his brother's untimely death, brought on by the way he led his life before prison and the example he set for his brother growing up.

These are not things that are easy to convince an audience of in the span of two hours. Yet, he accomplishes his mission. I truly believed that he hated these people. I truly believed that he learned it was wrong. And in the final scene, the "Oscar clip" if you will, I truly believed that he understood where he erred and what it cost him.

Alright, now Benigni (Guido Orefice):
- He's the quirky funny guy who falls for a girl.
- He has to get the girl to fall for him, so he utilizes his humor to do so.
- They fall in love.
- They have a child.
- The Nazis invade Italy.
- Their family is sent to a concentration camp.
- The men and the women are separated.
- Their son goes with the father, who must now, using his parental instinct, protect the son for the horrors that life in the concentration camp brings.
- Using the same wit that landed him the girl, he convinces their son that this is all a game, and that the prize is a tank.

Ok so, I apologize for the tone of disdain that you may sense in my description. But we've seen this story told from different viewpoints a thousand times. And it wasn't risky by the time this man got it. It just wasn't. Schindler's List was risky, Life is Beautiful was about the instinct to protect one's young. That's the basic of it. It was a romantic comedy turned drama. And yes, to be able to flip that switch is tough and takes a certain amount of talent. I liked the movie, it was good. But I just feel that the man who won, won for the wrong reasons.

Here's where it gets dicey with me. I have a hard time believing that the Academy, which had a large number of people of the Jewish faith, stomached American History X very well. Which you're not supposed to be able to. It's brash and cold, and sadly, real. It's relevant to the world we live in now, unfortunately. I feel like what it came down to was this: There was no way that a man playing a REFORMED Neo-Nazi convicted murderer was going to win an Oscar over a man playing a Jewish man in a Nazi concentration camp. Simple as that. I understand (as best I can without being Jewish, and without having been in a concentration camp myself) that it ruffled feathers. I understand that one story appeals to their nature better than the other. However their nature is not what these awards are about. It's about the ultimate acknowledgement of the actor/writer/editor/director/producer/composer/etc's ability to execute the task they're set in their film. And about who did it BEST. AND the message in American History X is NOT hate, it's about accepting people of all backgrounds, faiths, races. It even says so while the lead actor is holding the newly dead supporting actor, Danny has a voice over from a paper he was asked to write by the principal as a replacement for his book report on Hitler's Mind Kempf:

"So I guess this is where I tell you what I learned - my conclusion, right? Well, my conclusion is: Hate is baggage. Life's too short to be pissed off all the time. It's just not worth it. Derek says it's always good to end a paper with a quote. He says someone else has already said it best. So if you can't top it, steal from them and go out strong. So I picked a guy I thought you'd like. 'We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.' " The quote he closes with is from Abraham Lincoln.

So the moral of the story here is this: The driving force in the voting for these awards should remain the caliber of acting, and direction, and so on.

And the second moral of the story is: Don't ever cross me on this topic, I'll just shake my head sadly at your inability to follow my brilliant logic.

And the third is : Don't watch the Oscars with me.

And my friend Jessica took that picture of me. And the subject of this blog is another Tim Burton quote.

Searching For A Subject.

2007-02-23T14:33:00.000-08:00

First thing's first. My friend Brandon Rogers made it through the first week of America voting on American Idol. He was the first contestant they spoke to and it was SO nerve wracking. I mean I think he has everything you need to make it. He's talented, he's attractive, and he's marketable. But will America see this too? It's scary, because I want so badly for him to succeed as his friend. And all I could think was this:

"Please make it, please make it....HE MADE IT!!! Oh shit, we have to go through this again next week?"

I felt like I was going to vomit I was so nervous for him.

So that's what I have to say about that. Generally I was feeling obligated to update this, but didn't really have a specific thought going through my head.

I've been re-reading both of these books, bouncing back and forth:

Burton on Burton - Tim Burton, Johnny Depp, and Mark Salisbury

The Long Hard Road Out Of Hell - Marilyn Manson

The first I read more recently and have decided to go back through it again because it's like picking the brain of someone for whom I have immeasurable respect. The way it's written is a biographical breakdown of his life via his movies. Each chapter is about a different film and the process of making it. I feel privileged as a Burton fan that he allowed that book to be written. His movies have had such a profound impact on my life. I remember being a Beetle Juice fan first. I always identified with the Lydia character. That was when I became a fan of Wynona Ryder's as well. But I always felt like the quirky/darker little girl that no one understood as well. So it was nice to see that personified outside of myself. Next came the Batman movies (I really enjoyed the first two. He also produced Batman Forever) and Edward Scissorhands. I was a tomboy so I loved the comic book movies because I loved comic books. In elementary school I was a huge X-Men fan. I liked Storm and Wolverine the most. But I was very into the Batman movies as a kid. I liked Pee-Wee but saw it out of chronological order due to my age. In Edward again, I found a character I related so deeply with.

And then there was that other movie, the one that spawned these wonderful characters:

The Nightmare Before Christmas changed my life. Which sounds like a bit of a melodramatic statement if you don't know me. But obviously it had an impact if I saw fit to tattoo Jack and Sally on the two sides of my neck. My father took me to see it when it came out in theaters in 1993. I then saw it with my mother and then my father again. I was a child obsessed. I like to call this the moment in my life when I was first touched by any kind of muse. It was the first time I really appreciated visual art as visual art. When the movie came out the following year on VHS I received it for Christmas. For YEARS thereafter I used to fall asleep watching it every night. His other movies have been instrumental in my becoming the artist I am today. I have such a hard time narrowing my favorite Tim Burton movies outside of Nightmare, but I'd say off the top of my head that they are Sleepy Hollow, Edward Scissorhands, Frankenweenie, and Ed Wood.

I think it says something about the chances an artist takes and the new direction they pioneer when one of the results of their work is a new adjective used to describe the tone another artist uses in their work. These days when a film is dark and oddly twisted without necessarily being disturbing it's referred to by critics and executives within the industry as "Burtonesque". Amazing.

As to The Long Hard Road Out of Hell, Marilyn Manson is an astounding intellect. Aside from having led an interesting life he knows exactly how to write it as entertainment. He gets it. I also found that the first time I read this was at a time in my life that I needed it. That may sound odd, but I'm not going to delve further into it except to say that it was December of 2003. And those of you who've known me for a while can figure out who I was at that time on your own. I have faith in your ability to do the math on this. If you haven't read it, you should, be you a fan of his or not. I love his voice, both musically and as a narrator.

The photo up there is a view of this wonderful town I live in from a friend's house in the hills.

That's all.

Soundtrack to the Movie of My Life.

2007-02-21T07:15:00.000-08:00

The average soundtrack has, call it 15 songs?
I’ve been wondering what the soundtrack to my life as a movie would sound like? That is up to today, right now.

So here we go:

1. Total Eclipse of the Heart – Bonnie Tyler
2. She’s Got You – Patsy Cline
3. Don’t Cry Daddy – Elvis Presley
4. Part of Your World – The Little Mermaid
5. Angel – Sarah McLachlan
6. Dastardly – The Reruns
7. Electricity - 311
8. Thank You - Descendents
9. I Don’t Like the Drugs (But The Drugs Like Me) – Marilyn Manson
10. Magic’s in the Makeup – No Doubt
11. Amphetamines – Eve 6
12. Help! – The Beatles
13. Extraordinary Girl – Green Day
14. In Repair – John Mayer
15. The Unknown – Zack Hexum

I feel like that’s an accurate soundtrack, and that if you know me you have glimpses of the story it would tell, but not the whole thing.

What would yours be?

Tapped Like A Keg.

2007-02-20T18:32:00.000-08:00

That's how I felt when I took that picture. That's like an easy access IV to take blood from my arm from my little ER visit a couple weeks ago. See? I'm forever shooting with anything and everything, everywhere.

I've been thinking today about how much I love the art of capturing an image. I love photography in a way I've yet to successfully put into words. Someday maybe, though I don't believe today will be that day. But I can't tell you how much it moves me to see a movie that's beautifully shot, or when I see well documented rock history.

On Sunset there's a gallery next to a thai place called Toi. And it sells mostly rock photography from the mid 60s to the mid 90s. So you get everyone from the Beatles to Nirvana. I have mixed emotions when I go in there. It's both awe inspiring and artistically inspiring, but it also saddens me that I don't have the money to just buy it all. Or even one piece for that matter. I see beautiful art and I want to cry. How fucking emo kid of me is that?

I was thinking though about the evolution of my own art today as I was putting up a series of photos of 311 on my wall. They're mounted and signed by the guys and they're all from the first 311 show I ever shot. They're definitely not my best work, but they carry such sentiment for me that I'll hang them in every home I have for the rest of my life. But I see that stuff and I think about how far I've come from that day. It's almost scary.

Sometimes I worry about being stagnant in my work. And not evolving, and then I get motivated and I go looking for new things to shoot. Bands I haven't shot before and so on. But I always know when it's time for me to move on to a new stage in my work. I'll look at something I've been doing and there's a difference in the tone of the work when I'm truly moved and inspired by it. There are certainly shots I'd consider to be milestones in my career. Here's a couple of them:

There are reasons for each of these, but I feel like that will make this too long. But I feel a certain closeness with each of of these images. And that's what it is for me. Feeling close with the image. I love what I do.

I Ain't No Hollaback Girl, But....

2007-02-19T21:56:00.000-08:00

Ok, so. I need to start this blog by saying I love Gwen Stefani. She’s been one of the people I’ve looked up to since I was a kid, and she always will be. I must also preface this blog with this : I understand, as an artist myself, that people evolve as artists and you can’t ask them not to or their art becomes stagnant and unoriginal. I understand this.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way I’d like to point out that the more I hear it the more The Sweet Escape is growing on me. But I’m ready for the return of No Doubt. I miss them and I miss the Gwen that’s a part of a band and not a pop diva. I watched part of the Harajuku Lovers Live concert tonight on MHD….
(*Sidenote* MHD is pretty much the greatest channel ever. All day long it’s music videos, live performances and episodes of Storytellers basically, and I think it’s my favorite channel ever. Because on top of all of, this it’s all in HD!)
Anyway, so I had always accepted as a fan that Gwen wasn’t the strongest of live singers, because for what she lacked in live vocal stamina she made up for as an overall entertainer. I remember when she’d do push-ups on stage and had the crowd yell things like “Fuck you I’m a girl!” and it was great. She interacts so well on stage with the men that she’s been making music with for so long. But the Gwen that’s a solo artist is weak. She prances around on stage in heels and just doesn’t have the same ooompf that she carried with her on No Doubt tours. I prefer the athletic Gwen. I know that she was pregnant with Kingston when that DVD was made and that changes things, but in all of the televised performances of her on her own that I’ve seen she wasn’t pregnant and I’ve never been able to get into it.

The production of that tour was phenomenal and I would’ve given my left arm to be able to document it, I was glad to see that Gabe McNair was on that tour with her. The costumes were fantastic, the LD should get an award, and her dancers were good. But she just wasn’t the Gwen that I loved live with her band.

When she’s not busy having a popstar nervous breakdown and doing crazy things like shaving her head, Britney Spears is a great solo pop entertainer live. But that is because that’s what Britney is, she’s a pop star, it’s the kind of entertainment she was meant for. Gwen wasn’t meant for this forum. She was meant for the blood and sweat that comes with a rock show.

For a while I was drinking some serious Gwen haterade, because I was disappointed in this woman that I’ve grown up holding up on a pedestal, but at the end of the day the opportunity to basically take over the world was there and she jumped on it. And lately I’ve been thinking “Get you some girl!” I love the L.A.M.B. clothes and bags, I think that she’s a fashion icon and will remain one forever. She’s cemented a well earned position in the fashion world. And she didn’t do a line of velour track suits like the rest of the singer turned designers out there. She took her love of fashion seriously and I respect that. She’s on her way to creating a well respected fashion house. And I’ll be damned if she can’t put on a runway show. The initial one was nothing short of absolute genius.

I have fun with the solo stuff and it has it’s place for me as a fan of her and her music. But I’m ready for the return of one of my favorite bands.

I took that photo up there in October of 2002 when I shot No Doubt opening for the Rolling Stones at Turner Field in Atlanta, GA.

Why Do They Call It The All-Star Break?

2007-02-18T23:24:00.000-08:00

Seriously? I mean the actual All Stars don't take a break? They practice and then they play a game. Not just any game, but a game where they put on a serious show for the fans and have to rise to a different level of playing. The biggest talent in the NBA share a very entertaining 48 minutes together and against each other. And it's just a beautiful thing. There's so much talent happening on this court right now. Cause we TiVo'd it and I'm watching it late.

Caron Butler looks like the happiest kid on earth talking about being in Vegas for this game. It makes me so happy to see someone be so appreciative of this. Because it's an honor to play in this game and some people seem to forget that. That's the thing about the All-Star game, the fans decide who gets to go. I vote for my All-Stars, and by my I mean the ones I want to see play. And I swear, come hell or high water Luke Walton will be an All-Star someday.

My highlights of All-Star weekend?

1. The Slam Dunk Contest Judges

The first and foremost being the judges line-up for the Slam Dunk Contest: Michael Jordan, Dr. J (for those of you who don't know, or don't do sports Dr. J is Julius Erving), Dominique Wilkins, Vince Carter, and Kobe Bryant. Hey you young guys competing, no pressure. I mean woah, what I wouldn't give to be able to sit at that table. Just to hear the five of them talking. It was a table of legends. Michael was very MJ and kept giving out 8s, when Cheryl Miller asked him about it, he said he was leaving room for improvement. One of the things I always admired about Michael Jordan is that he never settled for his best. Because his best was on a level that the rest of us can only dream of. Watching him play basketball with the Bulls was one of the best things about being a part of the generation that I'm a member of. I'll never forget that 6th championship.

(Someday, hopefully, I'll have children, and with any luck they'll be basketball fans. Because I look forward to telling them the story of where I was on June 14, 1998. Standing in our family room on Nancy Creek with my face mere inches from the tv screaming at the top of my lungs and seeing that last field goal that Jordan made as a Bull. I swear the man jumped seven feet in the air pumping his fist. It was inspirational, and my favorite part of that moment is what you see when you watch the Utah bench as this is happening. One would think that in this clutch moment where one basket decided the outcome of a championship that you would see the sadness on the faces of the losing team. But what you see is this reaction that screams "yeah that figures" on their faces. Like yeah, we knew he'd do that. Very resigned to the moment and what's happening to them, again.)

2. The Actual Dunk Contest

Anyway, so back to the dunk contest. I was sad to see Nate Robinson struggle as much as he did. His first dunk was phenomenal (I don't care what MJ said, I'd give it a 10), but he really struggled on his last one. Because the thing you have to understand is that Nate Robinson (Knicks) is only 5'9, and he fucking WON the dunk contest last year. I'd say the best dunk was surely when Gerald Green (Celtics) cleared Nate Robinson to make a dunk. He's almost exactly a foot taller than Robinson, but that was just so awesome. He was the winner this year. By the way, I'd like to see you jump 12 feet and put a sticker on a back board (I'd have been happier with the East in the actual game if he'd started over Shaq.)

3. The Barkley * Bavetta Challenge

Charles Barkley had a footrace with Dick Bavetta where they ran the length of the court three and a half times. Charles Barkley is 44 years old and looks like he hasn't run a lap since his last NBA game. Dick Bavetta is 67 years old and runs 5-8 miles a day. They donated $50,000 to the Boys and Girls Clubs for the race and Barkley won (but only because he was running backwards and his ass crossed the half court line about 30 seconds before the rest of him followed), and then fell, and then kissed Bavetta....on the lips.

4. The Celebrity All-Star Game

So, this was interesting. And by interesting I mean an absolute clusterfuck. Bow Wow had a really great block on Nelly (Bow Wow coming in at 5'7 and Nelly at 5'8), Michael Duncan Clark didn't get that offer from the Clippers he was hoping for, the only women were members of that fake professional league : The WNBA, Reggie Bush saw his NFL career flash before his eyes, and Chris Tucker has gotten fat.

Oh and I think Carrot Top is on steroids.

5. Christina Aguilera at Half Time

She's such an amazing entertainer, and holy shit the opening shot on her was BEAUTIFUL. There's something truly amazing about capturing the right moment during a performance. And that shot was just incredible. I wish I had been able to shoot that.

6. Prince

He was sitting courtside for the game. And his style is just so great. My roommate's a little um, uneducated on the beauty, power, sex, talent, godliness, and everything wonderful personification that is Prince. Because he was sitting next to Dave Chappelle, someone who I love both as a comedian and an intellectual. He's really great, but Prince is Prince, and he seemed to just not understand this concept.

I can't include the actual All-Star game cause I'm still watching it. But I'd like to point out how much better Kobe is playing that Lebron, and I don't care what ANYONE says Kobe Bryant is the best player in the NBA. And I though I don't think that there will ever be another MJ, if you're going to compare the two of them to him, Kobe wins. It's all about the finesse and the art of the game.

My lowlights of the 2007 All-Star Game :

1. Shaq

You big ugly bald dumbass why haven't you retired? I'm so sick of him. He's washed up and has been for a while. He lost any love he'd get from me at the end of the season last year. When he was standing there being interviewed, and we all knew that because he's a child disguised as a grown man that he'd take the shot at Kobe: "Dwayne Wade is the best player in the world." But who the fuck does he think he is taking shots at Phil Jackson? "Pat Riley is the best coach in the world." You big dumb motherfucker, Phil Jackson MADE you. You went to the finals and didn't get a ring until that man came along. You couldn't get a ring without him, you lost when you went up against him. He stood by you and stood up for you every step of the way, and that's how you repay him? You're a fucking has been and he's a legend. And you could barely make a shot tonight. So, yeah I don't like you. Idiots like you are what's wrong with professional sports.

Actually, that's pretty much it, I just don't like Shaq.

I love this game.

And yes that's me and my Lakers tattoo watching a Lakers game at my dad's house.

*Edit* Kobe got MVP. This makes me happy because it was well earned: 31 points, 5 boards, 6 assists, and 6 steals. Now if they'd just give him MVP for the fucking league everyone could finally just shut up. *cough* Daniel *cough*

It Had To Start Somewhere

2007-02-17T15:31:00.000-08:00

The Reruns.
Devin – Lead Vocals, Rhythm Guitar
Ben – Lead Guitar, Back Up Vocals
Brett – Bass, Back Up Vocals
Gunnard – Drums, General Badgerness

They started it.
It’s entirely their fault.
More specifically it is the fault of one particular young man, Gunnard. Of my best friends, Gunnard is the oldest in terms of how long we’ve been friends. We’re working on thirteen years now. And nine years ago (almost a decade, how crazy is THAT?) his band was playing a show at the Somber Reptile, or as many in Atlanta know it, the Somber Shitpile. And because I was that friend who always had a camera handy EVERYWHERE we went, he suggested that I bring my camera to his upcoming show.

Armed with my KodakFx 35mm camera (also known as a reusable disposable camera) at the ripe old age of 14, I went and presented my school ID for my first guest list position ever. If I recall correctly, Emma was my first +1. It was the Reruns opening for the Mr. T Experience, and the date was May 14, 1998. This was my first show I ever shot, anywhere. My oldest sister, Kirsten, was getting married four days later in Charleston, SC. So I’d been freed from boarding school for the a long weekend so I could be in the wedding, and in the midst of all of this I got to go to the show before we headed to up to SC. I got the photos developed at King St Photo in Charleston. I remember going to pick them up before I went to have my makeup done by a Chanel artist at the Saks catty cornered from the photo place. It was all I could talk about all weekend.

It was like this instant love. From that show on, I became a fixture at Reruns shows, and I took pictures of their friends’ bands too. I became very familiar with The Hosstages/Jet By Day, 17 Years, The Mouthbreaters, Catfight!, 6X, The Varsity Orange, and The Black Lips. Eventually this led to me shooting any local show in Atlanta I could get my underage self into. But Devin, Ben, Brett, and Gunnard are who really started it, and when they played I was there.

During the summer of 1999 the Reruns played a reunion show. They’d broken up in a way due to Ben’s departure for Auburn University. The remaining three had formed an emo (sorry guys) band called Duluoz. The show took place at Under the Couch at Georgia Tech. This was known as the Harvard Farewell Show. Brett was leaving for a summer program at Harvard and all the proceeds went to Under The Couch. This show featured basically all of the bands I was photographing at this time. In the fall of the previous year my parents gave me my first SLR, a Canon EOS RebelG, and I was able to actually shoot stuff with some flexibility and learn about lighting and aperture, film speed, shutter speed, all of it. I was so excited that I was going to get to shoot the guys with a “real camera”. Prior to this I’d been through two models of Canon Sureshot Owls, point and shoots with a limited built-in lens range that just didn’t quite cover what I needed them to.

I will remember that show for the rest of my life. At the start of the Reruns set Brett said something like “ We always knew there was one person we could count on to come out to our shows, so Austen, our last show is for you”. I sang my favorite of their songs with them on stage, “All the Way (With Stephanie K)”, and it was really one of the best nights of my life. These four guys helped me find what I love in life. And I’ll never forget that. Gunnard was with me when I shot my first 311 show (that’s another story for another time), I photographed most of them in different bands at different points there after. And spent my fair share of time with them as friends as I grew older.

On December 2, 2002 Ben Eberbaugh, one of the kindest souls to ever grace the earth, was killed in a car accident in Atlanta, GA. It was one of the saddest days I’ve had to endure in my life so far. So many people were lucky to have Ben in their lives, and so many of us came together in the days that followed. Ben loved music more than anything, and were it not for his dream I might not have mine. He’s eternally missed, and I’ll be forever grateful for the role he played in making me into the person and artist I am today.

Occasionally I catch myself standing side stage at a rock show somewhere crazy like Japan where the band I’m there with is playing for 20,000+ people and I find that I’m laughing thinking about how I ended up there. And that at the end of the night when the show’s over, I’m not going to be wedged in the front seat of Ben’s Explorer between the arm rest and a Marshall stack bound for my mother’s house. Or trying to find a place to fit in Gunnard’s Volvo station wagon in the midst of all pieces of his drum kit.

So the moral of the story is this, if you’re in a band, and I work for you, blame these guys:

(Left to Right) Me, Devin, Brett, Gunnard and Ben (Front) at the Harvard Farewell Show

The photo at the top of the page is from that first show on 5/14/98. And that's the flier from the Harvard Farewell Show in the middle there.

Listening To My Heart Through Headphones.

2007-02-16T17:22:00.001-08:00

I was talking to a friend the other day about the difference in experience when you listen to music through headphones and not like say, playing from your computer’s speakers. It really does change things. And it’s really enjoyable.

I re-discovered this while working the other night on a photo project and I plugged in my headphones to my computer so the music I wanted to hear wouldn’t disturb my roommate, since it was around 2AM. The music envelops my entire existence this way. And I feel it differently. Each method of listening to the music provides a different experience for the listener. Much of the music that’s common in my life I’ve become accustomed to listening to live. 311 are the perfect example. I no longer listen to them in my free time. Because I hear them live so frequently, it’s lost it’s appeal to me as a casual listener. I hear their music and sort of instantly revert into this stressed out working, planning version of myself. When I turn on KROQ and hear Beautiful Disaster I know that the lights are going to be purples, bright blues, with some occasional yellows and greens. And that I need to come down to an ISO of 800, shoot at 90th or 125th of a second, and I’ll want to open up to the 4.0 range. That’s absurd.
I’ve always felt that I SEE music happening, and that it’s why I’m sort of meant for this concert photography thing. When I hear a song an image forms in my head immediately, be it my own or recalling someone else’s, it’s how I translate music. It’s really how I translate pretty much everything, but in this specific and more powerful instance we’re discussing music. By we I of course mean iTunes, my computer, and myself.

I’ve just made a playlist of SOME of my all-time favorite songs, and realized just how much music was lost in the transfer from my old computer to this one. I’m missing half of my music library. So this one’s called Music Appreciation.

The songs on this list were added for many reasons, their musical genius, the memories they carry with them for me, or the images they create in my head being among said reasons.

Leaving Song Part 2 – AFI
My Happy Ending – Avril Lavigne
Devil Went Down To Georgia – Charlie Daniels Band
Strong Enough – Sheryl Crow feat. Dixie Chicks
Rocky Raccoon – The Beatles
The Man Who Sold The World – Nirvana
Runaway Train – Soul Asylum
Who Knew – P!nk
Everytime It Rains – Cold
Cover Girl – New Kids On The Block
This Train Don’t Stop There Anymore – Elton John
Angel – Sarah McLachlan
Son Of A Preacher Man – Dusty Springfield
While My Guitar Gently Weeps – The Beatles (with Eric Clapton)
They Remind Me Too Much Of You – Elvis Presley
Pieces – Hoobastank
You Lied – Green Day
Today I Met The Boy I’m Gonna Marry – Darlene Love
Dance Inside – All-American Rejects
Are You Lonesome Tonight – Elvis Presley
A Home – Dixie Chicks
Favorite Things (Live) – Incubus
I Don’t Trust Myself (With Loving You) – John Mayer
Getting Through To Her – 311
She Loves Me – Descendents
Man On The Moon – REM
The Kill – 30 Seconds To Mars
Wicked Game – HIM
The Bright Young Things – Marilyn Manson
Behind These Hazel Eyes – Kelly Clarkson
You Make Me Sick – P!nk
You Were Always On My Mind – Elvis Presley
Gone – NSync
Oh, Atlanta – Alison Krauss
Heaven – New Found Glory
Echo – Incubus
Teenage Gluesniffer – The Queers
Summer of ’69 – Bryan Adams
Don’t Let Me Get Me – P!nk
Total Eclipse of the Heart – Bonnie Tyler (This song was #1 the day I was born)
Heartbreak Hotel – Elvis Presley
The Brews – NoFX
Let Him Fly – Dixie Chicks
With You – Jessica Simpson
The Bitch Is Back – Elton John
Right Here In My Arms – HIM
Lost in You – Sugarcult
Jesus of Suburbia – Green Day
Lunchbox – Marilyn Manson
The Real Thing – Gwen Stefani
I’m Lost Without You – Blink182
Get On The Ball – No Doubt
Circles – Josh Todd
Don’t Waste Your Heart – Dixie Chicks
Cuts Like A Knife – Bryan Adams
Lose You Tonight – HIM
Hate Me – Blue October
The Real Me – Zebrahead
Luck Be A Lady – Frank Sinatra
A Crow Left of the Murder – Incubus
Don’t Stay Home – 311
It’s Gonna Be Love – Mandy Moore
Heaven – Warrant
She’s Got You – Patsy Cline
Conversations With My 13 Year Old Self – P!nk
Disposable Teens – Marilyn Manson
Lovely Bones – Josh Todd
Leftovers – No Doubt
Dancing on Glass – Motley Crüe
Suspicious Minds – Elvis Presley (Aloha From Hawaii version)
Gangsters and Thugs – Transplants
Theme From New York, New York – Frank Sinatra
Crocodile Rock – Elton John
The Cause – NoFX
18 Wheeler – P!nk
Fly Me To The Moon – Frank Sinatra
Don’t Cry Daddy – Elvis Presley (2/17/70)
Romeo and Juliet – Indigo Girls (Dire Straits cover)
Ready, Steady, Go – The Meices
Pretending – HIM
Slow Dancing In A Burning Room – John Mayer
Nothing With You – Descendents
Motownphilly – Boyz II Men
Faithfully – Journey
Devil in Disguise – Elvis Presley
Platinum Blonde Life – No Doubt
The Girl is Mine – Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney
For Your Amusement – 6X
My Skateboard – the Aquabats!
Church on Sunday – Green Day
Lonely Girl – P!nk feat Linda Perry
Champagne – Sugarcult
Stockholm Syndrome – Blink182
Strong All Along – 311
Alone – Zebrahead
I Get A Kick Out Of You – Frank Sinatra
Amphetamines – Eve 6
Personal Jesus – Marilyn Manson
All Shook Up – Elvis Presley (8/24/69 From Vegas)
Something Like That – Tim McGraw
Band of Gold – Freda Payne
The Funeral Of Hearts – HIM
Shout At the Devil – Motley Crüe
Lights Out – Lisa Marie Presley
Sometimes Jacks Rule the Realm – 311
There You Go – P!nk
Church – Outkast
Social Suicide – Bad Religion
The Beautiful People – Marilyn Manson
Family Portrait – P!nk
For the Weekend… - Letterkills
I’ve Got A Theory – From “Once More With Feeling” the musical episode of Buffy
The Rock Show – Blink182
Happy Valentine’s Day – Outkast
Pop – NSync
Ice Cream – Sarah McLachlan
Mirage – The Queers
Love You Like I Do – HIM
Pretty in Pink – Social Distortion
Pretty Girl (The Way) – Sugarcult
Heartbreak Town – Dixie Chicks
Bad Boy Boogie – Motley Crue
The Fight Song – Marilyn Manson
Allison – Elvis Costello
I’m the One – Descendents
Oi to the World – The Vandals
It’s My Party – Lesley Gore
I Wasn’t Born To Follow – Social Distortion
Too Young To Fall In Love – Motley Crue
The Cowboy Song – Garth Brooks
Make You Smile - +44
Welcome To My World – Elvis Presley
Waiting Room – No Doubt feat. Prince
Home Sweet Home – Motley Crue
Since U Been Gone – Kelly Clarkson
Minority – Green Day
Back in Baby’s Arms – Patsy Cline
Don’t Tell Me – Avril Lavigne
Maggie May – Rod Stewart
Here’s To The Night – Eve 6
What’s Up? – 4 Non Blondes
Never Again – Justin Timberlake
That’s Where You Take Me – Britney Spears
I Don’t Like the Drugs (But the Drugs Like Me) – Marilyn Manson
This Is Halloween – Marilyn Manson (NMBC Cover)
Crazy – Britney Spears
Black Velvet – Allanah Myles
Dreaming With A Broken Heart – John Mayer
Dear You (Far Away) – Zebrahead
Dried Up, Tied, and Dead to the World – Marilyn Manson (Live in Utica, NY)
Anticipating – Britney Spears
Sweet Child O’ Mine – Guns N’ Roses
Not Ready To Make Nice – Dixie Chicks
My Way – Frank Sinatra
Like Toy Soldiers – Eminem

Now, who wants to be the one to explain to me where all my Prince went in the transfer from one computer to another?

Ok, so music is intensely personal. It’s kind of amazing, that something once so personal to the person who created it, becomes entirely differently personal to someone else upon its release to the world. I know that Marilyn Manson will probably ALWAYS remind me of Adam Pambino and my middle school years. It’s a great thing when you hear a voice that so clearly tells you that he relates to you and everything you’re going through. When you feel that you’re the one who stands out from the crowd. Marilyn Manson was like this beacon of light for the lonely kids. It was amazing. And when I listen to Lunchbox I think of my family taking Adam to eat sushi for the first time, or just how generally inseparable we were in sixth and seventh grades. I still have his White Zombie t-shirt. And it makes me think of Susanna Green’s birthday party and the cake fight that ensued after a game of suck and blow (*NOTE TO MY VARIOUS PARENTS READING THIS* Suck and blow is a game where you pass a card, like a playing card, between a circle of guys and girls by holding it to your lips through sucking in air and then passing it by blowing air while the other person sucks in air) where I met my second boyfriend, Ben King. Who at the time was quite fetching for a twelve-year-old boy with long hair. People who’d periodically come back into my life, Ben the most frequent and consistent of them all. Ben and I went to two high schools together later down the line and would even go on to play husband and wife in my senior play at Ben Franklin. Albeit a dysfunctional husband and wife, he, a king in my mother’s blue silk kimono and myself a schizophrenic queen en pointe. Yes folks, that’s Ben Franklin’s pan Asian version of the Greek myth Atalanta. YEAH.
I know that for as long as I’m on this planet Patsy Cline will always remind me of my beautiful mother. And I’ll probably always think of being in the Jeep with her and saying “ she doesn’t have anything of ours does she?” shortly after my parents were divorced.
Anything country will always remind me of Darlington and Peachtree Tavern.
311 has such an onslaught of memories from throughout my life I can’t even begin to delve into them. I will however say this, though they’re not what they were to me once upon a time, I’ll never deny having been a HUGE fan of theirs at one point. They changed my life, and they’ve been such a big help to me both personally and professionally, and I love them all for who they are and what they’ve brought to this world.
I’d also like to point out that there’s a lot of pop in there. Good pop is FANTASTIC. And something that shouldn’t be shunned just for being pop, and that’s what I’ve got for now.

The photo in this entry is my current favorite that I’ve done; it’s of Nick Wheeler of the All-American Rejects at the MidSouth Coliseum in Memphis, TN. It’s one photo, not two, and I love that it has the fans hands in it.

I've Been Told I'm a Music Snob.

2007-02-15T23:33:00.000-08:00

I've been told by my friends from time to time that I'm a music snob. And I guess it's true.

Generally when asked what kind of music I listen to I tend to say that I don't like music. Or more honestly it goes like this:

"What kind of music do you like?"
"I hate music."

Something you have to understand that comes with working in the music industry is it turns you off to a lot of music. I love music in a way that I can't put into words. But I've been given the gift of communicating this visually. It's a great thing really. But this gift has opened doors for me, that have been really truly wonderful to walk through. And I'm so grateful for them. Most people would love to have the kind of access I've been granted for certain shows and what not. But with the good comes the bad. I've had to listen to a lot of bad music because of what I do with a camera.

Tonight's example is Ima Robot.
This band is HORRIBLE.

They are, to me, the textbook example of the band for the snotty art kid who thinks that if it's abstract it's instantly cool, and that because I don't like it, I'm not on their level.

WRONG.

Bad ≠ Art

I don't care how mod you consider yourself to be. I don't care how much of a "sick fade" you have in your hair to make you look like the kid who sings in the band. If you can call that singing. I'm sure these are very nice people, they may even be intelligent. But I can't get down with what they're trying so desperately to pass off as music. It's awful.

On my birthday last year (2006) I went to a concert in South Orange, NJ. It's line up was as follows: Damone, Under the Influence of Giants, Ima Robot, and the All-American Rejects.

Damone was a great rock band, and I really enjoyed shooting them. UtIG was once upon a time a band called Hometown Hero, I liked them more as the latter. Now they fit into a mold that made it appropriate for them to be on a tour with the band that followed them. So needless to say I didn't enjoy their set. Ima Robot was something I was curious about. I'd seen them when they played Kimmel three years prior and I wondered if they were as bad now as they were then. I lasted about one song and went back to sitting outside backstage with my friend I was there to see. And then the Rejects, who, although pop rock, are all talented and show off said talent in their live show. They are both musicians and entertainers. It was an interesting mix. I'd call it a rock sandwich with a techno/pop/newwave/bad haircut/all for show/no talent filling. With Damone and AAR as the rock bread and the other two as the filling.

It should also be noted here that typically I find the people who listen to this crap to be pretentious in a way that makes me want to vomit on them and then point out how fake they are as human beings.

I obviously feel very strongly about this today.

Here's a playlist I made for when I write:

Lovefool - The Cardigans
A Home - The Dixie Chicks
King For A Day - Green Day
Circle of Friends - Better Than Ezra
Your Song - Elton John
What You Are - Drill
Lose You Tonight - HIM
Conversations With My 13 Year Old Self - P!nk
I Can Love You Better - The Dixie Chicks
Crazy - Alanis Morissette
Can't Stop This Thing We Started - Bryan Adams
Wake Me Up When September Ends - Green Day
Dance Inside - All-American Rejects
Karma Police - The Hexum Brothers
Free - The Martinis
In Repair - John Mayer
Ready, Steady, Go - The Meices
Whole Lotta Trouble - Cracker
Tale As Old As Time - From Beauty and the Beast
Godspeed (Sweet Dreams) - Dixie Chicks
God Only Knows - Joss Stone
Tiny Dancer - Elton John
Someone Saved My Life Tonight - Elton John
For The Movies - Buckcherry
Nice Overalls - Lustre
Dreaming With A Broken Heart - John Mayer
Dear Mr. President - P!nk feat. Indigo Girls
A Girl Like You - Edwyn Collins
To Be With You - Hoobastank
There's Your Trouble - Dixie Chicks
I Wanna Be There - Blessed Union of Souls
I Belive in Love - Dixie Chicks
Don't Go Breakin My Heart - Elton John and Kiki Dee
Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol
Crazy Life - Toad the Wet Sprocket
Otherside - Red Hot Chili Peppers
The Heart of Life - John Mayer
I Throw My Toys Around - No Doubt feat Elvis Costello
Candle In The Wind - Elton John
Summer of '69 - Bryan Adams
Slow Dancing in A Burning Room - John Mayer
I Got Money Now - P!nk
Wicked Game - HIM
Here It Comes Again - Please
Invisible - Ashlee Simpson
Dried Up, Tied, and Dead to the World - Marilyn Manson
I'm the One - Descendents
Take Me To The Fair - Elvis Presley
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road - Elton John
Drinkin Me Lonely - Chris Young
I Don't Want to Live Today - Ape Hangers
Wonderwall - Oasis
Without You - Dixie Chicks
Gravity - John Mayer
Californication - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me - Elton John
One Broken Heart for Sale - Elvis Presley
Runaway - P!nk
Sugarhigh - Coyote Shivers
Give Me Novacaine - Green Day
Till I Hear It From You - Gin Blossoms
I'm Gonna Find Another You - John Mayer
Mister Superstar - Marilyn Manson
The Ballad of El Goodo - Evan Dando
Under the Bridge - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Alison - Brandon Boyd
Oh Me - Nirvana
Liar - The Cranberries
Once You've Loved Somebody - Dixie Chicks
Are We The Waiting - Green Day
Impossible - Alecia Keys and Christina Aguilera
And Love Said No - HIM
Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers
I Don't Trust Myself (With Loving You) - John Mayer
Landslide - Dixie Chicks
Bright As Yellow - The Innocence Mission

Kudos to anyone who's a nerd like me and picked up on the fact that the entirety of the soundtrack to Empire Records is in that playlist.
That movie is one of my all time favorites.
While driving down Sunset the other day I came to the sad realization that my children and their children won't know about Tower Records. And that really did make me sad. I loved working at Tower, to an extent. It made Empire Records take on a whole new meaning for me. Some of you know this and some don't, but that movie was written by a former store artist of a Tower. And the store in the movie is based on Tower. It deals with the corporate vibe that it had while still being the "cool indie record store". It was a weird experience but I can say I did it.

That's all for now.

P.S. That picture is of a piece by an artist called TODD.

The Streets of My Hood

2007-02-15T15:12:00.000-08:00

So I went out shooting my neighborhood today. Something I plan on doing a lot more of. And I started with the street where my first apartment was. I live only a couple blocks from the first place now. And then some of the Wilshire part of this neighborhood. And my first apartment building. Check it out:

I love this town.

Congratulations buddy.

2007-02-14T23:01:00.000-08:00

My wonderful friend, Brandon Rogers, was selected as one of the top 24 contestants for American Idol this season. He's the one on the right in that picture. He's amazingly talented and someone you guys should not only watch on the show but call and vote for as well.

If you're a friend or family member of mine expect obnoxious "Vote for Brandon" emails and calls and texts and IMs from now on. You're about to become American Idol viewers.

So Congrats to Brandon, I can't see him NOT being the next American Idol.

I have to say this: Anything I say here asking you to support Brandon doesn't represent or have any official affiliation to Brandon, The Fox News Corp., or its subsidiaries.

Can you hear me?

2007-02-14T19:27:00.000-08:00

Oh it's a blog. I blame my buddy Zack Hexum for this blog's existence. I've found that I don't really like the myspace blogs too much, so I've created this one. It's also a way for my friends and family who don't do the myspace thing to keep up with me. There will be a picture of the day each day. Chances are they'll be mostly my photography or photos from my sidekick (my phone).

Valentine's Day in Los Angeles:

There was no line at Pink's today! Huh? That never happens! Seriously, I've never seen that. Anyway, I'm about to start a new job, and it's one I'm excited about. I'm looking forward to the photography work that I have coming up as well. Zack and I are going to revive our roles as musician and photographer soon, both in the recording studio and outside of it. I've got some pretty spiffy ideas that take our work together into a new place. I look forward to it. I've been writing more again and that's always a good thing. That's all I've got for now.