It’s 85 degrees out and the first Sunday in October.  I successfully transitioned back to my parents house.  I love/hate being here.   Friday was spent cleaning, purging and organizing my things, hanging out with my sisters and dinner with the family.  These times are both horrifying and hug my heart. :sigh:

EARLY early wedding and finished by 5pm. It was nice to be done and home by 7pm but I was so tired I went straight to bed anyway. haha..

I have began to purge the rest of my things.. letting go of things that cannot be taken in a suitcase for the next 6-9 months of life.  There is much to get rid of.  Bitter sweet feelings.  But I’ve been traveling so much now for the last two years, that it is easier to let go of whatever you cannot carry.

Visited with Janessa and had a sweet, chill Sunday afternoon. Talked about the future.

I miss him so much.  I’m still mad. Still hurt and still love him. Argh.

I am stubborn and proud.  Good and bad.

Created an online dating profile for myself with Janessa’s help.  I really hate this stuff and it only made me miss FF more.

I am so grateful for the story we shared, the experience of knowing him and the things I’ve learned about myself.

Much to tackle this week. Two weddings to completely edit, beginning to finish, album designs and 5 shoots.

WOO.

The month is set. 11 shoots. 7 weddings. Driving all over California. 6 weeks until Paris.

Back to back to back meetings today. Rode my bike 11.4 total miles. Helped jenny move into her second story apartment. Ran with the run club 3 miles.

So tired.

Got my nails done with Cara. I picked Opi’s color “dreaming nomad” because of the name of course.

The color suits me more than I expected. fleshy mauvy pink with a hint of shimmer.

In an instant I am doubled over ready to puke. Frankie was tagged on fb with his arms around some girl. Devastation. Literally minutes later he texts me and asks how I am. I haven’t heard from him in a week! I’m at a loss how to respond to him. I’m pissed, I’m hurt, I’m in love and I’m mourning the loss of him.
I tell him Im having a hard time getting over him and that it is painful to hear from him. I find my breath again and get in my bike and ride whatever destination comes first.
I find I ended up in the same place I went to when I realized my marriage was over. Capitol park under the magnolia tree. Something about that well manicured grass hugging me back is comforting. I let a few tears fall. I want to cry it out, because I haven’t yet. But I can’t. I know I need to in order to really move on. But I still have hope.

Fucking hope.

Third day in a row of 14+ hours in the office.  SO. MUCH. TO. DO.

And with one decision the next 12 months of my life appears.

a plan for Paris. Spain in November.  Holidays and winter in Paris. Home for a month here and there to photograph clients and catch up on technicalities.

Panic that I won’t get my visa. Panic that I will get in trouble for working.  Just general paranoya continues.

Perhaps I should visit a therapist.

Half the time I am ready for my own home again. My own space.

The other half of the time I want to sell (the rest of) everything I own and travel travel travel.

Wanderlust wins out.

Now If only I can figure out how to live without heels.

Don’t be disingenuous.

I’ve had my fill of NYC.  Or boys. Or just boys in NYC.

Note to self: don’t do long distance. Just don’t.

I don’t see myself in NYC. At least in the current state that I am now.  I don’t want to be an independent creative in that city.  But we shall see. I’m young still, right? :-/

I did have a great last day though.  Guggenheim and the James Tarrell exhibit. Walking around the Upper East Side.  Lunching solo at Le pain Quotidian and charging my phone at the apple store at 5^th ave and park.  I took the 4 train to Brooklyn bridge and walked across.  I love that bridge.  I made my way home, packed and then headed out for dinner in Windsor Terrace. My usual café Brooklyn Commune was closed so I kept walking and found a quaint french bistro.  Perfect. I sat at the bar and ordered pizza and two glasses of wine.  I met the sweetest old Australian lady.  She met the love of her life at 37 years old after being divorced and has now been married for 30 years.  She gives me hope.

I went out with Classy K for a final hurrah and ..  what a great way to end NYC.  We were supposed to go to Apetheke..  As fate would have it we couldn’t get in. On my way there I was doubting the brilliance of that idea and the emotions of being there again.  It was just not meant to be.  It’s ok for that memory to remain.  It’s a great memory. We had a drink downstairs and then hit up a place that K knew the owner.  It was lively and apparently Tiesto was in the room and we didn’t know it.   I actually yelled at a guy and told him “no” like he was a dog.  He was really possessive and grabby and I had had it.  I’ve never been offered so many “lines”.. wait.. I’ve never been offered a line ever until now.  Ick. Another reason I don’t want to be here.

I don’t think I’ve ever left NYC not hung over or drunk.   I got back to the apartment at 3am and my car service pulled up.  I was drunk and grabbing my stuff and running out the door.  I got to the airport and through security and passed out at my gate until boarding.  I laugh now, but how long can I keep this up?  It’s exhausting. Ok, and really amusing.

I realized that it’s not the attitude of carelessness that has possessed me…  It’s that I’ve lost attachment or motivation to anything of substance because I see how things don’t last.  Things that are good, lovely and beautiful, things that take time, effort and investment get trampled on or thrown away or broken and generally go unappreciated.  My heart has been broken by people places and things.  I’m getting tired of it.  Why put forth effort anymore?  My own values, valuables, things I love, people I love have been reduced as well.  It’s exhausting to constantly pouring out of oneself without reciprocation.  This applies in all areas of who I am. Personally, mentally, artistically.  You really have to take care of yourself first. Live your life with a heart wide open, loving yourself first because it gives you the ability to love free of expectations and selflessly. But do you rob yourself of the opportunity to be surprised, blessed or loved by doing so?  I wonder where the balance is…

This with Frankie should have ended in May. After his visit.  I knew then that it wouldn’t last.  I knew then that he wasn’t for me.  Long term anyway.  But what am I saying?  I’m not looking to get married right now…  I was just having fun!  but I mourn it like we could have had some great future together.  But fun it was. And fun it wasn’t.

What an amazing experience.  What an incredible story.

I am grateful.

I love my life.

Don’t be disingenuous.  It is a disservice to yourself and those around you.

NYC is not for me. No thanks. Never in my life have I been offered so many “lines”.

I’m standing on the platform at Ft. Hamilton waiting for the F train to take me to Manhattan. I’m drinking out of my lipstick stained coffee cup and continually glancing down the track expecting to see the train any moment. The hums and rumbles of the empty subway are misleading. I’m on my way to meet a French girl that I had made aquentences with while in Paris. She just moved here. We should have much to talk about. :)

My wedding yesterday went well. Better and worse than expected. Nice challenges, lovely surprises. My assistant drove me all the way home. I’m grateful to not have to ride the subway at 1am with my gear. I found I wasn’t tired and joined Chloe and her roommate in Carrol Gardens for beers at Great Henry on Smith Street. Everyone is a fucking character here.
We grabbed bagels at 4 am and took a taxi home.

I took a picture of myself in grand central enroute to my wedding. A token of this accomplishment and another milestone passed. Contracted job in NY, Check.

It’s painful to be there. To be here. A sad pain. One you want to argue with, bargain with and don’t want to let go of.

Chloe said I’m a catch. But then why am I divorced and single?

Because there is more to life than love. Not much more, but there is.

I’m not done yet chasing me. More to do, more to purge, more to break apart.

I want my home, my office and my studio back. I need my space so I can create.

Create create create. How does one do this. Freedom to be. Freedom to interpret. Words words words. Live by action. Anyone can say words. And your very flesh shall be a great poem. Flesh is a living thing. Recreating itself new. Dying in layers. Shedding the old. Ever changing. The only thing doesn’t change is the scars. Burnt, torn or broken. The effects of these remain. and it all contributes. I find my normal portrait workflow stiff and boring. Typical and expected. I cannot do as others have done.. using the same formula over and over again. It almost feels like cheating. Maybe I don’t have vision anymore. Maybe I’m burnt out. Maybe I’ve emptied out my creative soul. There is no time to process. There is no time allowed for renewal. The monkey must dance and see and play and done so with the same flair and inspiration as before. Hence comes the formula. Hence comes the repetition. It might be safer to jump in this way. For the clients sake anyhow. I just want to create. With soul. With vision. I want to take a photo of someone and the very life of his/her being be felt through their gaze. I’m so unsatisfied with myself. I feel uncomfortable and restless. I feel a careless attitude has taken me over.

Bittersweet.

Last day in Paris.

The rain gave us a break yesterday and I was able to do a photo session with a gal I had met at a party.  The session ended up a glass of red wine and friendly conversations of life in Paris. We were sitting at a cafe that was along the seine with a view of Pont Alexandre and the setting sun.  As we were walking away the eiffel tower started to sparkle and I said aloud “that never get’s old” and she agreed.

I had coffee with a film maker/screen writer and we talked about lie decisions and how sacrifices are made in life to achieve something beyond what we could settle for.  We talked of great photographers and the work that they did.  I’m reminded again that I want to create and its a burning desire I cannot ignore.

Saturday night was nothing short of epic.  Brian and Betsy had an amazing engagement party and we drank champagne and danced our feet off until wee hours of the morning at Chez Castel.

Literally and figuratively I have a little black rain cloud following me along.  I hate this feeling of sadness and I don’t want to feel this way, especially in Paris and my last few days here.  But if you are going to be sad, at least you’re in Paris!

Perspective is everything and so I will not allow myself to wallow.

I’m grateful for:

Feeling welcomed and being able to meet soo many people this trip.

Successfully executed 5 sessions during my 4 weeks here. Three of which presented themselves during my time here.

Visited a new country! HEARTBerlin!

enjoyed myself to the fullest extent. Danced, laughed, partied and made new friends.

C’est la vie. :bisous:

I want you by my side
So that I never feel alone again
There’s always been some kind
But now they’ve brought you ‘way from me

I hope they didn’t get your mind
… this is strong anyway
We need to fetch back the time
They have stolen from us

Refrain

I want you
We can bring it on the floor
Never danced like this before
We dont talk about it
Dance them all
Feel the boogie all night long
Stolen paradise
Should have talked about it

Refrain

The sun aint shinin anymore
the only thing i fell is bad
cause my absence of you

It’s some trouble in the night
I cant finde a way outta here
I want you by my side
so that i never feel alone again

Refrain

Should have talked about it
Should have talked about it