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feraljared
08 May 2008 @ 09:09 am
Fucking Hilarious. The Hipster Olympics.

 
 
feraljared
26 April 2008 @ 12:27 pm
There will be more to come from Cochella...

 
 
feraljared
24 January 2008 @ 07:12 pm

The Collection:


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This does not count the cameras I have made. It is not a great photo. I took it with my crappy digital camera. And I suck at using the damned digitals.

I actually use most of these cameras. I need to get the film for the spy cameras. Have not been able to justify the cost just yet. But I will.

A few holgas, a few goofy silly  toy cameras,  some panoramic, pinhole cameras, lots of Russian cameras, a stereo camera, a few "normal" cameras, a few sequence or multiple image cameras, an under water camera, polaroids and polaroid-back cameras, two mini spy cameras, a Russian spy camera with a huge zoom lens, Brownies, Graflex, fisheyes, and other things.
 
 
feraljared
18 January 2008 @ 08:09 am
My school loan should be here soon....




soon....


soon more pictures of randomness and stuff.


oh, and I got a new chihuahua puppy. He was lost in the desert. I hate chihuahuas. He curled up in my lap and went to sleep. I said, "no, no. You can't be cute like that. I hate chihuahuas."


So now he is mine. Dinah (the cat) doesn't seem to mind so much. I guess the dog is not competition or something.

and I am quitting my steady job to focus on my unsteady and unsafe business of working on celebrities and otherwise wealthy people on the weekends in LA. So now I can focus on school during the week. Or go drinking, if the stress from the inconsistency of rich people gets to me. And I am working on opening up an art gallery and performance space with a friend. Nothing like spreading oneself thin.

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feraljared
31 December 2007 @ 11:49 am
Keeylocko

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We partied at a ranch out in the middle of nowhere where they serve you beer as long as you want to drink. Owned by an old, black cowboy named Ed who partied with us all night, and woke up before we did with a morning cap of a double shot of tequila.


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There was a real graveyard, with even a few new burials. One old gravestone read, "Here lies one Easterner who came West dressed to kill, and was..."

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Near the entrance is the boot-tree. Like a mesquite, but sporting cowboy boots instead of pods.

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Yes it was a REAL working ranch. Pigs, chickens and cows...

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The church:

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The beer we drank:

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It took hours to get this puppy over a few miles of washboard-dirt road.

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feraljared
03 November 2007 @ 10:41 am





Taken on the Diana pinhole.
Tucson Mts.
Tree with moss
 
 
feraljared
01 November 2007 @ 10:13 pm


I sit in the mountains by myself and feel simultaneously the most isolating alienation AND warm familiarity. It is here that I suspect most that this is all some sort of strange joke. This whole thing. And I think it is a joke on myself, played by myself.

I know I am deluded. But I just can't give up the delusion, even though I admit I am deluded. I admit I accept this lie as truth. I somehow cannot let go. Oh and PS. I made a camera from a cardboard camera kit, but I didn't follow the instructions and made lots of changes with black tape mostly: Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
 
 
feraljared
30 October 2007 @ 10:02 pm
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

I think about gender every day. It is everywhere. Tonight I am supposed to write a paper on how the female gender is treated in the Middle East. I am having trouble. Not because there is not enough to be appalled at. Because of course, there is. It is horrific the stories of stonings, how women are traded like mules, genital mutilation, rape, etc. etc. It is all horrific.

But somehow it feels disingenuous to get overly righteous about how women should be treated there, ignoring the fact that we have not figured out in our own world how to bridge the gender gap. Pointing out the obvious with too righteous a finger somehow makes me feel guilty about the transgressions more subtle that may come from my own person.

And I find it impossible to discuss gender without understanding my own interactions. Having just emerged from a failed marriage some few years ago, and a few failed attempts at establishing relationships since then, I have started to question what exactly I am doing. What do I want? What is it that I am doing in engaging in intimate relationships?

And I don't know: outside of the fact, anyhow, that I am attracted to women. But we get together to satisfy more than just sexual needs. Or else things would be much more simple. Are we looking for mothers and fathers? Are we trying to procreate, albeit on a subconscious biologically inspired level?

For me, I can say that at least on the conscious level, I am wanting companionship. The thought of being alone while old sounds terrible. The thought of wasting my youth alone also sounds terrible. But also terrible have been the relationships that make you feel more alone than when alone. Have we all not been there?

It seems like no matter what happens I am unsatisfied. The only thing that gives me hope is that I know I have rushed into most relationships. So I have not tried being patient yet. I have not taken my time yet. And of course this is the hardest thing in the world to do, when I find someone I like.

Of course there is the whole 'finding someone you like' thing. The ones I really like are always unavailable. Funny that. Do I do that on purpose? No. I don't think so. I just have impeccable taste, and because I always choose the good ones, they are usually snatched up already. Damn.

I don't know how I got from the beginning of this topic to where I am now. I guess I am questioning my proximity and understanding of the opposite sex. I know I don't generally like very many men. And all my closest friends are women. I *think* I understand women. But do I really? Maybe not. Or maybe the issues I am having with my relationships have nothing to do with the opposite sex, but my own. Maybe I don't understand my own gender.

That is more likely. I grew up with no dad, an abusive step father, and no positive male role-models.

There is one man in my adult life that has become a positive role model. A gay man in his late 50s. He is a poet. He moved to NY just a few months ago and I miss him terribly. He used to read to me for hours: the friendship was great because he loved sharing, and I loved listening. There was no sexual relationship. He was more like a big brother, or maybe a father. He still is important in my life. We write letters, real ones. He has given me hope in my gender.

Do I need a straight man for a proper role-model?

Back to women: I suggest that most if not all the abuses of the female gender is rooted in the misunderstanding and lack of knowledge about one's own gender. The fear generated causes men throughout the world and history to treat the female gender the way it has. This is presumptuous of me. But I am going with this idea for now.


 
 
feraljared
08 September 2007 @ 05:05 pm
Pinhole image:

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From the Lubitel166:

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two from the Zenit 122k

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feraljared
02 September 2007 @ 10:48 pm
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket