heidi wore clogs, and so do you

So last night, Meme, Jess and I went to go see Doves.
I've been really into their latest album Kingdom Of Rust lately, so I had to see this material done live.
The show was fantastic, but this is not what I'm here to talk about.

After moving to the front (which is the best bonus to seeing shows with small, cute girls), we began to get our dance on and the tunes were bumping. All of a sudden, I could feel myself being stepping on, and stepping on someones foot. I didn't care because everyone was having a good time and this is, presumably, what happens at shows. Not to this guy."Hey man, you're stepping on my feet. This is my spot."

"What?"

"I said this is my spot. I've been here for the past ten minutes."

"So?"

It turns out that there was a blubbering vagina standing behind me. Some Dexter-Zero was chewing me out for dancing on his toes.

Oh, I'm sorry hun, I've never slow danced before.

First off, who comes to a rock concert, moves to the very front, and stakes a claim amongst hundreds of people? Your spot? Who the fuck are you?! Yukon Cornelius? Maybe if he had a pick axe, monster beard and a hunger for gold- then I would have taken him seriously

Secondly, how can you come to a show and not expect to get your feet stepped on? I could understand if he wasn't dancing and I was just causing a scene, but he was, as was everyone else. I've gone to shows with perfectly white Stan II's on, moshed for two hours, then proudly gone home with someone elses blood and dirt covering them. A real musical experience should be about passion, love, appreciation, and expression. Don't just stand there like a paper napkin. What a fucking pussy. My buzz was killed by this Joe-PC. Grow some balls for gods sake.


One thing that I know in life is that the world is full of uptight, unenlightened, anxious, high-strung matters of waste that we call "the public". People are no longer passionate about anything, and are so afraid to express themselves that they retain mid-life Osteoporosis just from sucking their boss' dick or from nodding "yes" so much every day.

People like this just make me want to stick fireworks in their pants, just so they'll feel something for once. They have pickles so far up their asses that even their breath smells like dill. I have only one piece of advice for these people: Verbally disagree with someone at least once a day. After a few weeks, you'll sleep sounder. I promise. Why? Because it's one of the many free things in life that are good for you. I'll jump back to that topic at a later date when I have more examples.

Am I out of line? You're damn right I'm not. Let's eat some pickles.

everyone sit down. it's sharing time.

Let me fill you in on a little story of mine.

Flat out, when I was a kid I was fascinated with penises (or the correct multiple penis term: penae), particularly my own. I found them so interesting. My sister didn't have one, but my brother and dad did. Old guys had weird ones, and so did dogs. They shrank and grew throughout the day, mostly whether or not it was bath time. I would constantly crack jokes about how I had the biggest dick in the family. I would present this theory using any lock on a door, and it went a little something like this:

I would turn it out from the door a little and say
"Miiiiike......huhuhuhu"
then a little more and say,
"Daaaaaaad.....huhuhu"
and then crank the thing full out and scream
"and meeeeeeee! hahahahahah"

My mom still thinks that's funny shit, and so do I. I was a special kid.

Yet what I am most famous for is called "The Dance of the Dinkies"

The Dance of the Dinkies was more like my "Fuck whatever I'm doing right now, it's time to make grandma laugh" ritual. All it really consisted of was me stripping butt-naked, run into a room, scream "DANCE OF THE DINKIES!!!", and proceed to swing my dick around and have a full-body dance freak-out. Everyone thought it was hilarious, but I'd usually get chased around by my mom with a wooden spoon because it wasn't the most polite thing to do when we had company over.

It mostly looked like this, except totally naked and with much more enthusiasm, if you can imagine.

I think that's enough sharing for today. Dismissed.

come on everyone, lets see some smoke

For starters, I've finally finished making some adjustments on the photos I took for the 5x4 performance last month. I don't believe I've mentioned this performance on this blog before, but it was a stellar performance orchestrated by my two good friends Cara and Alicia. They approached me about photographing the event, to which I immediately agreed. We've worked together on a couple projects in the past with great success. The girls are lovely to work with and produce wonderful work.

5x4 was a performance piece that involved 20 performers interacting with 20 regular household items for over an hour. Each person was given a taped-off section, amongst a grid of other performers, to interact, personify and become involved with the item of their choice. Objects ranged from garbage cans, armchairs, mannequins, tables, books, to coat racks. Abstract soundscapes played and each person climbed, wrestled, lifted, and moved their object to it's within it's physical limits.

I was actually quite disappointed to hear that this would be a one-time performance. Each and every onlooker was fully engaged in this very physical performance. Although wildly entertaining and interesting, time is money and these spaces are not cheap to rent. At least the performance will live on through photographic proof.

Speaking of photography; this experience was actually a rare treat to capture from behind the lens. For a minute it almost felt like one of those silly tutorials that camera shows will put on where they'll have one or two well-lit models in a studio setting that fat old white guys will photograph to their hearts content, except on a much larger scale. The treat was that I had free range to photograph 20 individuals freely in a beautifully lit setting. I decided to avoid the distractions of flash photography, and went fully manual to avoid that "beep" when using auto-focus. I definitely did not want to be "that guy" who's clicking, flashing, and stepping on everyone throughout the entire performance.

The rest of the photos can be viewed on my flickr account at:

www.flickr.com/filmsnotdead