this one sucks too. i blaim the aforementioned women (for everything). 

the elusive 'miserable sod' and it's reactions to film

i've discovered that late night photography, hell, late night life has it's ups and downs. this story involves the later. i parked my car behind woodlands "school" and started my trek. Being that i was carrying an obvious camera on top of a 4 foot tall tripod, most gawkers got the hint pretty quickly as to what it was i was doing. i was fucking around with technical aspects, not really getting anywhere or anything worth keeping on to. I drudged about, walked down to the underground crossing where i got atleast one decent shot. a couple more of moving traffic and my exercise in a lack of creativity was almost completed. i merely needed a shot of the stars and to photoshop 'reach for the stars! if you miss you'll end up in the heavens!' in super bold font on the bottom and my hackery would be complete.
anyways, i was trudging back to my car, down the sidewalk and while walking i was putting the legs to the tripod back in. This dog starts barking, it sounds close, not a good sign for someone whose dressed in almost all black, wearing a tuque. infact i briefly reflected that to an idiot, i might look a thief but then realized i had the camera and people would put two and two together. Not so.
So as i hear the dog, a light catches my eye. Woodlands has this huge spotlight on the one side with a metal grate over the light, and something like a 600 watt bulb. The stark resemblance to a prison search light coupled with the crossed windows and a moderate shutter speed i thought would make for the first artistic photo (if not somewhat obvious) of the night. As i noted previously, all the legs on the tripod were up, and being that this was my first day with it, it was taking me a few moments to extend them so i could take the shot.
I see a woman behind me, she's dead still, about 30 feet away. Neither one of us are moving, we spend about a minute looking at each other. then i go back to my work, after i presume (rightly so) that her gaze is merely because she is talking on the phone, which also explains what i thought she was saying to me. She comes a little closer, and immediately halts in her tracks when i turn to see. She's looking at me as if she's getting ready to bolt at any second, i can't understand it.
When she gets a little closer it becomes clear: she's on the phone calling the police. Without even acknowledging me, this woman is giving my rough description and i can hear bits and pieces. Keep in mind i'm about a foot away from a major street, and have only lurked in this spot for a good two minutes, the entire time fiddling with an obvious camera.
"tell me you aren't calling the police?"
"mummble mummble, black hat, tall, he's just staring at something."
"ha! i guess a camera is a foreign object to some people"
no response, she walks off up the street, still on the phone.
"fucking peasant!"

i get a shot off (Sucks, cunt) and i start up the street back to my car. also the way she was going. she keeps looking back at me and her voice is getting more and more distraught with the operator. She rounds the corner at the light, as if to see if i'd follow. i do one better and cut across the school as a short cut, making it look more and more like im following her. She's almost at a run now, i start laughing again. i walk into the middle of the road, put down the camera facing at her
"say cheese!"
she breaks off into a run, i'm laughing considerably loud by now, and realize that she's probably been on the phone with them for 5+ minutes. Thankfully nanaimo's police force is considerably under-staffed and most definately inept. I make haste for my car (which was my main direction in the first place, i assure you), and drive off.
One can not but examine the phsycology of this. What is it about everyone here? they seem to want to know everything about everyone, ever notice how people stare with disdain when you drive past, or out their windows? it's not just geriatic shut-ins, it's everyone. i didn't take her picture though. I think exploitation of animals is beneath me.

pale skin

it's all i've got! form is completely manufactured in humans. we move like apes, kill like apes. descended from some deviant form after all. Any grace is merely a product of tedium and disgusting repetition with the full intention of mimicing composure.

speaking of composition

in the dark

from some little boys blog i can't find the link, k sorry.


brick

untitled.

stop