my camera tells me secrets

Green Up!

2008-01-05T23:08:00.001-08:00

backyard greenery
Originally uploaded by lilylord

Drip Drip Drip of rain outside. I loved the rain as a kid. Loved stomping through the forest with my dogs. Alone but not by myself. I am so tempted to go outside right now and trudge up the street and the hill - where no one else walks, but know better. Living in LA for the past twenty years I have grown used to relatively mild weather cycles (with the exception of the crazy "el nino" events that coinicided with the Rodney King verdicts. It's strange to once again be visited by the oddities of "bad" weather. Everywhere one turns points to it being a trend. Think of the trees that topple down after the storms after bearing witness to streets for a century. Feeling the push of guilt to green up more in my daily life, for my city, for my child for my planet.

"He looks like and Archer"

2008-01-03T00:24:00.001-08:00

more 08
Originally uploaded by lilylord

Comment yesterday when out with Archer. Then came across this list on my computer of names we were contemplating.

Asher - hebrew fortunate, lucky blessed, happy
Kyle - Gaelic Handsome near the chapel, narrow
Griffith - Welsh fierce cheif ruddy
Archer - Tuetonic The Archer
Axel - hebrew, swidish divine reward; divine source of life
Dean - latin, old English presiding official
Elroy - French King
Bronte - greek thundar
Baily - Polish white haired boy
Beck - Swedish - brook
Jules _boy/girl
Jasper_boy (Persian - the treasuer)
Otto_
Dalton_boy
Davan_boy
Deven_boy
Dominic_boy
Haden_boy
Jaden_boy/girl
Willow_boy/girl
Wyatt_boy
Jude_boy
Jett_boy (Latin - black)
Ace_boy (Unity-Latin)
Donavan_boy
Kirby_boy (Scandanavian)
Dag_boy (Scandanavian)
Quinn_boy (Irish)
Leo
Noah (Hebrew-peace)
Kai
Keane - English Sharp bold
Keene - Celtic Gaelic wise, learned
Kit (Greek - pure)
Sacha (French - defender helper of mankind)
Sage_(English- wise)
Cole_boy (Old English - dark)
Jayden_boy
Lyric_boy
Judah_boy
Topher_boy
Roman_boy
Dean_boy
Zeth_boy
Zhane_boy
Zeke_boy
Théodore_boy
Harrison_boy
Dexter_boy
Zollie_boyThéodore_boy
Harrison_boy
Matty_boy (stong fighter German)
Zollie_boy
Thurber_boy
Oliver_boy
Tennessee_boy
Baily_boy
Macdonald_boy
Carey_boy
Dov_boy
Finn_boy (Irish Fair)
Gil_boy (Hebrew for Joy)
Gilbert_boy
Max_boy (greatest_latin)
James

Happy New Year!

Santa's Magic

2007-12-23T06:13:00.001-08:00

Santa's Magic
Originally uploaded by lilylord

"Christmas is coming the goose is getting fat please to put a pudding in the old mans hat." Not very cheery lyrics at all but embedded in my memories of Christmas. The holidays are so full of expectation that for a while I kind of backed away until I was so emotionally removed that I didn't care. Not the best solution. Because I really do love the cheery lights and connecting with loved ones and friends during the holidays. Reviewing the year past. And the red and green and jingle bells.

Ben, I and Archer celebrates Channeka as well as Christmas, which I think is nice. I can't wait until we move to a place that we have more room for a Christmas tree. Like a lot of new parents I've become a total cornball. Crying at stupid car commercials. Getting choked up at the Grove when the Christmas music blares and Archer dances his happy jig. It really is true experiencing things "through the eyes of a child" is really the sweetest thing.

I was reading my friend Robert's blog www.allthingsbutnone.com - he writes about our longing to connect and find passion and the question marks that often swirl around our heads in regards to "purpose". Those question marks bang around my head a lot. But as I type and Vince Guarldi plays "A Charlie Brown Christmas" and I think of all of the wonderful people in my life those questions lie still and I feel peace. Happy Holidays and peace to you.

Hulk angry - Hulk Strike

2007-11-21T00:06:00.001-08:00

Hulk angry - Hulk Strike
Originally uploaded by lilylord

Spent a few hours walking the strike line with Ben today on Hollywood Boulevard. It was actually pretty fun...the last time I walked down Hollywood Boulevard it was to protest the war (lot of good that did), this time I was just an observer. Everything was well ordered. Sandrah Oh gave an impassioned speech about using consumer (no Disneyland for the holidays kids) clout to bust the chops of the large mega corporations that are refusing to pay writers anything for internet usage. I totally wish I had a guild that had clout for design. It was cool to see people of the same profession gathered together to stand up for themselves. The larger issues of corporate greed, bullying muscle and greed in the context of the growing wage gap in the US were mentioned. All issues I think about way too much. I know I'm really lucky to live in the US compared to other much more challenging places to live, but LA is a tough city to keep one's head above water - Housing starts at half a million dollars. Municipal transportation is a joke, so hello to expensive gas tank refills every week. And the air quality is - well, sucky. But the people, lot's of 'em - are pretty great. And walking in the crowd today was a nice illustration of that.

Stitched up throat

2007-08-14T00:07:00.001-07:00

Stitched up throat
Originally uploaded by lilylord

A cut throat has been my easy halloween costume for 4 of the 8 past years. Glue on a fake scar, dab some putty around it and finish with fake blood dripping from it.

This month it was real. I had a goiter removed surgically. I went under the knife to be cut open, rearranged and stitched back up.

I'm usually so busy and so full of energy that the prescribed time spent resting now seems absolutely necessary but very odd.

I am restless, but tired at the same time.

Last night I was in Palm Springs at my friend Pamela's beautiful house near a golf course. The sky was soft black and lit up with stars.

We watched shooting stars. I counted ten.

Shooting across the sky.

I forgot to make wishes. Instead I thought of how I wanted to be less anxious in my daily life. Be as connected as I could. Be more graceful, gracious.

Surgery and shooting stars - makes me want to do well. be well.

July 31st

2007-08-02T23:27:00.001-07:00

Fried Pickeles
Originally uploaded by lilylord

We went to "Hooters" for Archer's one year birthday. Our friend Kaz shares his birthday and joined for a dual celebration. My friend Bob shares Archer's birthday as well. All the best have July 31st in my circle. And Archer tops 'em all. Everything went by so quickly this past year...almost like a dream. I remember those first few months with little Archer. Exhausted a lot (nursing takes a lot out of new mommies). Feeling safe in my little new family cocoon. Dancing to music, weeping from the small beauties everyday. Strangely I feel so much more put together with Archer. Strong, ever so capable. Roots that deepen by pure function - more grounded.

We all went out to Hooters on Hollywood Boulevard. We live so close to these tacky tourist spots that sometimes it's just fun to walk through the door without expectation - to discover that fried pickles really aren't as horrible as they sound. That being tacky is kind of fun sometimes. Wonderous moments can be found in the most unlikely of places.

Peace, love and joy

2006-12-18T23:18:00.000-08:00

Holiday Card 06 v1-1206061.jpg, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Happy holidays. This season can be so complex. Fraught with expectations and demands. I saw the new Will Smith movie in The Pursuit of Happyness today which is the kind of movie that I had to fight the tears back - and reflected the massive struggle that life can be and how during the holidays these feelings are often amplified. Saw it at The Grove an outdoor mall, which was dressed up in over-the-top lights and holiday cheer that stood in stark constrast to the pain and strife of "not having" enough that had occured in the story. Thought the characters in the story were struggling in a physical way that I (fortunately) have never had to, the pain of that struggle was very universal (I think) and for me often hit very close to home.

The trick of being happy...

Babies, my baby can be so happy and full of joy most of the time (when not strapped into the car seat for long stretches) that corny as it sounds really brings me back to the elemental carefree joy of just being in the world. Peace and joy, love and smiles.

the almost night sky

2006-10-20T02:09:00.000-07:00

_BRM0539_1.jpg, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Went hiking the other day with Archer. Came across two men and a women in traditional Indian clothes. Then another jogger, and a couple with a baby. The sun was going down and lit up the sky in the most lovely way.

Nature is really great for the kid I figure because it was so great for me. I spent a lot of time by myself as a child roaming the undeveloped woods. No one around. But me and my dog. And the birds, and the other sounds of the woods were muffled by the forest trees and folliage on the ground.

The world since is becoming more and more populated and developed. 295,734,134 first search in google accorcing to http://www.cia.gov/cia/publications/factbook/rankorder/2119rank.html. I miss those moments by myself. I miss that I can't take Archer back with me through those bits of time. So I walk, up in Griffith Park. Overlooking the populated citty and loving this bit of nature that is anyones to experience.

the melodrama of music

2006-10-10T02:29:00.000-07:00

_DSC0249_1.jpg, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Went to Sufjan Stevens concert tonight by myself for the first time since Archer was born. Sufjan played at the Wiltern Theater off of Wilshire along the edge of Korea town. Beautiful and old, walking into the theater my eye caught the astounding craftsmanship and artisan work on the ceilings and walls. What a visual treat is was to be in the theater. The crowd seemed earnest and fresh faced and excited. And so was I. Sufjan and company came out with butterfly wings on. For the next hour and then some they sang and played while video of clouds, butterflies, trees and a young boy, played behind them. As a kid/teenager I had an uncommon fascination with clouds and trees and would break down in tears at the beauty of the sky heavy with rain, sun breaking through. Uncommon I knew, because I told my friends and acquaintances and felt like a obsessive freak when my uncapped excitement would often elicit blank stares. At the same time while feeling odd I felt like I had tapped into something special that was unique only to me. My own stash of Gold and Diamonds. I came home tonight and told Ben that I pretty much wept through the whole show. "Why" he asked. I had no quick answer, but for me clouds and poppy dirgy discordant music most always trigger my heartfelt emotions.

My cousin Julia visited for a week this past week. So nice to spend time with her. Smart, interesting and quick to comment about the world while leaving breathing room for lots of discussion. She had just spent time in West Africa (Ghana to measure health statistics at a slum) and is planning on returning by next month. From her I heard about the local’s fear of vaccinations (Polio) their unquestioning consumption of overly processed junk food (Coke, fried food), love of soccer, and their passion for music. It made me want to visit.

Tonight I thought about my family - my new family of Ben, myself plus Archer and imagined 10 years from now, going to music together. Music at places where most people wouldn't think of to bring their children. Countries around the world that are yet to be. To perhaps, forge that connection for Archer to find his own unique voice.

i cobble together bits and pieces of everything
to try to make it whole

I am deeply authentically
selfishly me
i know you through myself
i straddle the edge of balance and imbalance
look at me

a navel gazing expert

365 days of change

2006-09-14T03:12:00.000-07:00

_DSC0077_1.jpg, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Just joined a flickr group. The 365 days pool has all members submit a self portrait of themselves for a full year. I'm going to try to do it. I love taking photos, but it comes in waves of activity. This forces me to pick up the camera and think about the image I am taking everyday. Hopefully this small change can get me rolling onto the " making art" segment of my life that I've been trying to get off the ground for a long time. If nothing else it will document the change that occurs over the course of a year. Augmenting my memory.

So many of my memories are linked to photographs. I don't have many childhood photos, but the ones that I do I have often wondered at the child who I was at the time. I wonder at my parents. Being mom is great right now. I love Archer's smiles and giggles. They really do seem so amazing. I'm a fairly social creature and love spending time with my friends, having no problem chatting up a storm with just about anyone. But having a child opens up the world even more. All of a sudden walking in public places elicits "oohs" and "ahhs" and "how old" from strangers with babies. Last week I had a wonderful conversation with a women about babies in a coffee shop while waiting for Ben....and how she had birthed a 9 and a half pound girl with only her husband and herself at home in Ireland (mid-wife was late - baby was quick to come). My baby powers my world and I love it.

Big Smiles - Big Day

2006-08-30T22:49:00.000-07:00

_DSC0115_bw.jpg, originally uploaded by lilylord.

I feel like a total cliche - Archer began smiling for and extented period - at me. Earlier in the day we were dancing to music on my iTunes. I carry on a conversation with him most of the day, letting him know what is going on. And we have fun.I play.

There is so much fun, fabulous fun that I am experiencing now. Not exactly because he is a baby and I'm seeing it through a "childs eyes again" but because I now I give myself permission to not be miserable. To be happy. And to share in my happiness = because happy mom makes for happier baby.

People say over and over that being a mom is the most selfless thing one can do.

I know it's super early in the game. But it does not seem like a one way street at all. I feel like when I am taking care of him I'm taking care of the "inner child" that is still seeped in sadness inside of me - which is all about both of us.

And even if it get's totally difficult....later - I'm having fun....now.

Talking aloud to baby about everything. Or dancing with baby in the apartment and forgetting all of the worries that had normally been anchored to me. Who knew Flock of Seagulls could make me cry with joy? Oh and yes, did I mention that he smiled today. A big smile - so big it stretched almost from ear to ear.

It was my reward for the day.

Little Man

2006-08-13T12:36:00.000-07:00

_DSC0027_1.jpg, originally uploaded by lilylord.

So Archer James Macdonald Schwartz was born July 31st, 2006. He's almost two weeks old and right now he is conked on my lap on a pillow that straps around my waist, called "my breast friend". So great. I've been resting whenever I'm tired and he's conked out. Waking up as soon as he fusses to be fed or changed...and things are going well. He's fussy in the normal way that little tiny new things are to the world.

I've been reading a lot about baby care and how the first three months of life should be a continuation of being in the womb - and how well equiped other babies of many other creatures are to fend for themselves from the get go, but we are not. We have the big brains that called for early ejection from the womb. So super dependant little things are the result.

Been staring at Archer's cute little face for so long that many people (especially actors on the T.V. for some reason) look like puppets. Their bodies seem at odds with their heads. Strange. How quickly one adjusts to different sensory stimulation.

Waiting for my own kid 'o

2006-07-29T04:51:00.000-07:00

_DSC0109_1.jpg, originally uploaded by lilylord.

I'm late, I'm late. 7 days past baby unveiling and I'm super ancy. Feels like I've been pregnant all of my life. The heat has been 100 plus these past few weeks and it's been, um uncomfortable is a slight understatement. Cooling off now. Much better. Excited to see him.

Due in July

2006-04-28T00:04:00.000-07:00

_DSC0098_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Went to St. Paul for my pal Carrie's wedding to Gustavo. I have an idea in my head of places that is specifically linked to the weather. I think snow and ice and holed up winters and emotions when I think of Minnesota. My experience was just the opposite. Sunny and bright was the city I found. I totally fell in love. Oh and I am stuffed full of baby right now. It really is the strangest feeling ever.

Ever.

At least for me.

When people are pleasant and nice it feels extra special now. Like vitamens to me and the little guy inside.

Relationships. Family. Love. Union. Spring. Happy.

chanting Zeus, Zeus, Zeus (1965-2006)

2006-01-23T23:48:00.000-08:00

IMG_0446, originally uploaded by lilylord.

One of Ben's old pals died two weeks ago, Jim Zulevic. He was a performer from Chicago actor/writer that Ben had known since he was 16....there was a tribute for Jim tonight off of Hollywood blvd. My hips been hurting terribly for a few days and I didn't know if I could stand the pain, and planned to sit in the back in case the pain got too great and I had to leave.

For two hours straight I was captivated by all of the jokes and stories that people told about him. It was shocking unexpected news when I first heard it and nice to be at a place where so many people were packed the room to not only laugh (a lot) and cry, but also to remind one another how important remembering and connecting with friends and loved ones is. And was so glad to witness such appreciation for another. It ended with the crowd chanting Zeus, Zeus, Zeus.

Appreciation takes away the pain, if even for a little bit. And the thing is, I totally forgot about my hip pain for the whole time. As Jim might say in his Hulk voice "Hulk like, it was good".

Working hard is hard

2005-11-12T18:03:00.000-08:00

DSCN9319_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Been working like crazy (not a new thing I admit). Hard labor for the brain. The work itself is pretty rewarding - solving problems and making things that get produced (even if thrown away eventually or even instantly). But the intensity that I need to drum up to get things rolling well, is unnerving at times. I become accustomed to it, and feel uneasy when still. And I get scared. That if I stop I'll disappear and the drive will fade away and I'll become lazy and lose out on opportunities to experience the world in a particular way. Irrational yes. Fed by my own adrenaline fueled manic work activity, yes.

I'll come home after a late night and blast the music and be so revved up that I can hardly stand it. And perhaps a sad song comes up and the stockpile of tears that are stored are unleased. How many of us are there living like this out there? Sometimes I feel everyone - though I know that isn't true. Sometimes the road is completely clear, free of traffic for most of my drive home. And when driving on the dark lonely road I get swallowed up by my thoughts and feel oddly alone and empowered and giddy with the feelings of freedom that comes from doing and finishing and working hard.

I think of the intense activity that msot pioneers and new immigrants must go through to rise beyond their circumstances. It's such a huge part of the American identity/experience, or it's the one that I most identify with. Intense, driven and always on the move. Starting up over and over again. Looking forward never back.

Ready and waiting

2005-09-21T00:25:00.000-07:00

DSCN7930_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Was up in Seattle for a too short a visit. For my 20 year HS graduation and to see - about to be a mom - Denise and her husband, as well as my mom. The days were long and gorgeous. Clouds floated and danced in the air above - It was one of those Washington Siren call weekends. As pretty as could be - perfect 70 degree weather, lush wonderful vistas abound. I was ready to move there instantly imagining living in each home I passed by. Then came my high school renuion. I had dragged Denise there as my date. We arrived early but went to the end of the street to hang out at the beach. I remembered having gone there so many times with family to play and in later teenage years to sulk, always a little bit distracted. Denise and I stayed later at the beach than the early arrival had given. It felt wrong to arrive on time even. Didn't want to appear as if those times 20 odd years ago had meant something. As if.

At that point I was pretty much fully formed. Geeky, weirdly confident/uncomfortably unconfident, and odd. At least in my memory. But walking into the room 30 minutes late those old defining roles evaporated. Everyone else seemed to have the same studied detachement. We were the generation that had became pickled with irony, Generation X. Post Watergate. Post rah rah. Post 20th century breakdown. Of course we were all there out of curiosity...only. And the fact that I was from the city of angels made someone comment "oh, but you've escaped". And I realized that I had, actually. Escaped to be creative and become myself. Escaped to a strange odd city that meandered without an obvious vantage point (We-Ho, Silverlake, Pasadena, Glendale - so very different and yet layers of these places repeat throughout the city). And not much brick. Not many buildings from more than two generations ago. No mountains, only hills. But lots of flavor. I had escaped.

it's all figured out

2005-08-27T13:10:00.000-07:00

DSCN7504_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Came home from work Saturday - came across these guys with a film camera taking pics of "the corner". I told them my project of taking pictures of tourists on the corner because of the amount of humans that stop and pose any given day where I live. "You know we're not tourists, right" one asked.

Ben and I went out to a seeing-you-off dinner with our friends Franklin and Bree, who are leaving for Chicago (he just finished his P.H.D. in philosophy). I was talking about how interesting it is to get older and the collection of experiences and changing perspectives that invarably happen. He spoke about that strange uncertainty and lack of self confidence that happened to him when he was in college and that now upon teaching those young people that the dorky cockiness that he had been sold as cool in those social circles is, in his view kind of empty. And that if he knew that information then, he'd have been a lot less worried about life in general.

Yeah you aren't tourists, but it's a long road ahead to becoming auteurs.

lost in thought

2005-08-14T12:31:00.000-07:00

DSCN7270_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

The other day was my niece Lily's birthday. Big party with lots of activity, but sadness too. Her great Aunt Sue had passed away the night before from cancer.

Death is a such strange and horrible thing to me, with so much sadness left in it's wake. I slept last night fitfully, remembering Sue. Remembering all of the people close to me that have died (always too early, too soon).

She was one of those people who had such an easy way with others. High energy, full of life. I remember when I was first dating Ben and going to a Holiday meal at the Robinson's. And how intimidated I felt. We had only been going out a short while and things were still in that "I'm not sure this is a permanent kind of thing - am I just the girl who's passing through?" mode. But I spoke with Sue and she asked me questions about myself, the kind that made me feel like she connected and was interested in me, and I felt at ease. I felt like I belonged in that moment. Those qualities are special and often not easy to be found. I'll miss her for sure.

amongst the living

2005-08-08T02:45:00.000-07:00

DSCN6872_bw, originally uploaded by lilylord.

I'm on vacation this week. It started Thursday. I tend to automatically go into decompress Zombie mode the second I have a day to myself. Sleep in. Watch Tivo. Zone out. And then I joined in...with a flurry of activity. Dinner out Friday....then to see a show at the Derby...and people I hadn't seen in months...saying my hellos...looking on and feeling detached. Candy Pants was playing...filling the room with sound. Evening's end hugs and goodbye's and see you next....God knows when for some of the crowd. Tired but off to Fred 62 to eat. Me feeling cranky and noticing the spotlight of stares of people waiting in line for the bathroom. Glaring. Our table loud as can be. Home late as can be. Tumble into bed.

Next evening out to see "Point Blank" at the cemetery. Hollywood Forever, the final resting place of Mel Blanc, Douglas Fairbanks, Cecil B. DeMille and well, 90 thousand plus once were souls buried 6 feet under and so, as the announcer let us know before the movie. And really, except for the smell of weed wafting over the crowd, everyone was remarkably well behaved. Nothing like the specter of ghosts to keep people in line. The movie was long and slow. French new wave cool this was not. Lee Marvin and his hypnotic stare was making me sleepy - my legs were feeling extra twitchy but I didn't feel like getting up to roam. Finally it was done.

Then we were off to a midnight comedy show in Hollywood at the Steve Allen theater w/Kaz and Ben. It was absurd and funny and quite worth the five bucks to get in. There's something so cool about really late shows. Kind of secret society feeling. Only night owls out awake and all the rest tucked away in bed. The feeling that anything could happen. Exciting things. Glorious things. Unusual things.

Vacation has started. Whooping and clapping and living.

cool in spirit hot in temperature

2005-07-30T00:34:00.000-07:00

DSCN6543_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Went to SF to visit Denise this past weekend. Oh-my-God-I-can-barely-breath kind of hot. One stop up the 5 saw a bed of Chrysathimums. Bright shiny sunshine yellow and burned to a crisp on top. 110 is almost intollerable. Crazy. First day it was all about Italian food (American Italian as Denise pointed out). Yummy, carby full of sugar. The next day was all French all the time. Sandwiches stuffed full of smoked salmon with lemon-aid that was This side of heaven. Oh so good. Castro, Castro. Passing by doors painted with bare breasted cartoon characters, and graffiti that would become art with the fairy godmother wand of a curator with influence. Art. San Francisco. Triple digit temperature in a heatwave that swept the state. Perfection.

sad music, good music

2005-07-17T04:06:00.000-07:00

DSCN5850_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Saw Sufjin Stevens tonight...really enjoyed it. It's been eons since I've been so excited about a pre-purchased event. Amping up the excitement was a long line of people stretched around the block....with no tickets...waiting to get in. Limited supply does make it better sometimes....greedy capatalist that I am.

alone by myself?

2005-07-14T02:17:00.000-07:00

DSCN5685_bw, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Mediocre to bad in one hot second.

Met Ben for lunch today at Eatwell. Never had a good meal there ever. "You must have been starving in a past life", my mom would tell me as I wolfed down one, then, two then three sandwiches. Growing teenage boys? How about girls. I was not fat as a child (though I thought so, along with many other tweens at the time) but thoughts about food often dominated my consciousness. I was hyper aware of what I would be eating, and exactly what I was not. And except for hot stuff (spicy...ah might as well be throwing dirt on the food), I ate almost anything and could eat just about anywhere.

I had bouts with stomachaches as a kid. Horrible-drive-me-to-the-hospital-room now!-ones. Armies of soldiers stabbing me from the inside. Only to mysteriously quiet down when checked out by the doc. But those ‘bouts only happened a few times and the rest, well, I was ravenous from hunger.

My nervous stomach has developed into quite a touchy stomach as an adult and I have gone months on end feeling nauseated. I'm quite a picky eater now and really only think about food right before I make/eat it or if watching a cooking show.

I had BLT w/avocado and cheese at Eatwell today and the meal was...mediocre, as expected. Whatever. So we get ready to go, but first, a stop to the bathroom, the Women's bathroom. One door, no stalls. Just a lock. I shut the door, lock it too and sit on the toilet. And, BOOM!

I see a male hand punch the door open and then a face peer in. SUPER CREEPY. I slam the door shut. HARD. Ewwwe. Though so slight really, just a second of weirdness, it feels like the thin veneer of my civilization had just been stripped bare. And it's so tiny. So very tiny. The moment. But it's enough to shake me and I storm out, looking straight ahead, not wanting to recognize the jackass who jangled my nerves with such force. Because I wanted to punch him, in the gut, hard. Or at least yell and scream at him. I know it's not the restaurant's fault, but the moment become glued to my mediocre meal experiences at that local and I tell Ben “no more Eatwell!” once outside.

I wonder how Londoners are dealing now that they have uncovered where some of the terrorists are suspected to have lived, not far perhaps, from where they were born. Look straight ahead chaps, gather yourselves and avoid the crappy food if you can.

even one can hurt

2005-07-07T23:01:00.000-07:00

DSCN3119_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Today London was bombed x 4. I looked on flickr to see what people saw this day through the lens of the camera. Noted some comments about how "few" people were injured and killed in the scheme of things (one child dead every three seconds in Africa, etc.). But I am not so cold and hardened and it does hit me. Violence and horrible things are rotten, no matter where they burst into space. I wish things weren't so.

independence day

2005-07-04T11:34:00.000-07:00

DSCN0840, originally uploaded by lilylord.

The fourth of July always seemed to be the holiday that other people celebrated. My mom hated street fireworks and told us of the neighborhood kid who's hand was fried to a crisp from a bad sparkler. So inside we stayed on the fourth, keeping all of the animals safe, keeping ourselves safe. The next day, running outside and collecting all of the colorful firework wrappings and wondering what magic had been unleashed the night before.

And still today, I still have residual fear of rogue fireworks. Imagining that the fireworks from across the way will go horribly south and something bad will happen. Feeling the same kind of tension as when a conversation turns tense in a bar or public place and the fight inside is eager and ready to let loose.

There is a system of large signs along our freeways that have changing messages. Sometimes there are alerts of missing children, sometimes traffic. The messages are always fear based. "Stay alive. Don't drink and drive" it this weekends message. Which is a good one, but like the warning of the kid's hand becoming an extension of his sparkler, makes me paranoid of the other yahoo drivers on the road. "People around drink a 5th on the 4th", said my mom when talking to her today "I'm staying in". I think I might too. Happy 4th of July.

I am from

2005-06-16T22:32:00.000-07:00

DSCN5322_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Inspired by "Fragments From Floyd" blog

I am from that smell of penguin paperbacks that tops my list of most favorite smells to this day. I'm from pink Izod shirts and messy pastel crayons.

I am from the artistic, bohemian, strict and full of creative energy house that was stuffed full of cats, dogs, frogs, antiques and books that sometimes tumbled into a backyard, and later porch that overlooked the Cascades. A house with plenty of rules and limitations but also freedom to roam the woods and explore nature by one's self.

I am from the tiny, sweeter than you can imagine, strawberries that flourished in the backyard - the one's that slugs would devour and leave half eaten, hanging from the plant. I'm from massive, juicy blueberries picked from the "bush" that was over seven feet high.

I am from family that always seemed to be at work and was often full of conflict and tears. From the house that never seemed to get clean and was jammed full of music, cooking and play. From Brigitte and Don and Michelle, Max and Marcie. And from waking up in the morning with Roxy, Tibby, Purdy, Xavier, and Junior piled on top of me, a warm mess of dogs and cats.

I am from the never-to-fit-in and filled-with-sadness lot. From the filled-with-wonder at the strange, weird, and truly odd things of the world, because-I-can-identify lot. I am from trips to the library and conversations with strangers on the bus smiling at the pretty young woman with her children.

I'm from "if everyone leapt off of the cliff would you?," and "society is full of garbage" to the "look at the wonderful sunset" and the "you are so very talented" comments. I am from deep suspicion yet bursting with wonder. I was enrolled in art and dance classes. My dad cried when I won a national award for illustration.

I am from the doctrine that organized religion has caused an incredible amount of pain and suffering, specifically to women. I am from the voices that said that karma is real and each one of us should follow the Golden Rule or be doomed to their own personal hell.

I'm from Ulm, Germany, of Northern European mutt stock. "Heinz 57" my dad would say so often, I got genuinely confused as to my "real" heritage. Swedish, French, Norwegian, Irish, Scottish, English and lord knows what else. Skin that burns easily, blue eyes that are plagued by "ocular albinism", blond hair, and a turned up nose. I'm from homemade spaetzle and sauerkraut, fresh fish and garden veggies dripping with butter. I am from midnight family trips to the 24-hour gocery store for ice cream "just because".

From the man who had an amazing life of adventure before me, globe trotting and skiing the world, yet never mentioned it. Who drank too much and got sad. A successful entrepreneur who drove me to school everyday for two years. Who I don't remember as being angry or mean, ever. Who had a two pack a day Benson and Hedges habit. Who quit all the bad stuff "cold turkey" and was diagnosed with cancer a year or so after. Who wanted to lecture school children on the dangers of smoking when he got better, but never had the chance. Who sought out interesting, unusual music and played the accordion. From the woman who had a few terribly sad stories to tell about growing up, and filled my bookshelves with amazing books about Harriet Tubman and Jules Vern, and others by Jack London, Charlotte Bronte, Victor Franke and C.S. Lewis. Who could be silly in the best way. Who loves animals and nature with an intense, fiery passion and played the guitar. Who could draw the funniest doodles. Who took the time to create a creative environment that supported our interests. Old fix-it automobiles in the driveway. A horse Ben, a barn.

I am from the antiques found from weekend trips puttering around old antique stores, from the empty bottles of wine I found hidden in my hamper, and from the expansive collection of records from David Bowie to Pearls Before Swine that I was allowed to play by myself. From the four car garage, with the Jaguar, Rover and Cadillac. I am from an expat European/American sensibility. I am lucky to be me.

center of attention

2005-06-07T00:38:00.000-07:00

DSCN5190_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Out w/Barney and his family. It was the dog show in Pasadena. Many nice people. Very friendly with lot's of "lovely dog" comments directed to Barney. Asked some people about their dogs and did encounter some weird "Best in Show" hyper geeky comments. I asked a lady about her Shibu Inu and she said that it was a great dog for apartments but should NEVER be off of leash. Why? Well of course it would invariably run away to either hunt and kill something or be hunted and killed by Coyotes she explained (!?). I just mentally shrugged and walked away.

The very best part though, were the dogs that ran through the obstacle course. Hoops. Cones. See saws. A few of the dogs were dunces, but some were amazing to watch. Agile, quick purposeful. Barney, the French bulldog paid more attention to dogs off course though. Perhaps he was jealous.

the super inside

2005-06-01T23:53:00.000-07:00

DSCN4698_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

The Indy 500 was on this weekend. I tuned in for about 20 minuets (which was 20 minuets longer than I have ever watched a race event on TV) The reason- Danica Patrick a "lady" racer who qualified to race (the only one this year) and was promoted on TV as a front runner. I'm a sucker for athletic stories with an interesting angle. And conquering girl hero got my attention.

I still remember clearly my kid books from school where all of the boys pictured were either firemen, doctors or cops and the girls were nurses, secretaries and dancers. I also remember not figuring out the following riddle when I was a kid...

A man is driving down the road with his son. They get into a crash. Two ambulances come. They take the man and his son to different hospitals. The son goes into the operating room, the doctor looks at him and says, "I can't operate on this boy, he's my son." How is this possible?

Answer: The doctor is a woman, she is the boy's mother.

per 1970's kid-speak....Doy!

Suffice it to say that I got kind of choked up when I was watching Danica leading the pack. She finished 4th and gave a chipper speech about the other great competitors, but her mouth was tense and held tight.

100 years ago children were admonished to stay in there "rightful" places. Some worked in factories. Others played with dolls and learned French from their nannies. But for all opportunities were surely limited.

I think of all of the little girls my friends have and in some ways how they live in a brighter better world than before. Even with the heavy global and local troubles. When I compare to the reality of the past it still seems that there is more opportunity. More choices. More hope.

Windy and hot

2005-05-16T00:36:00.000-07:00

DSCN4707_bw, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Unbelievable hot today. Had plenty of sun at Ashanti's 1st birthday. Great to see Apryl's family and eveyone else. Tons of kids being cute. Hung out in their huge backyard and relaxed. Came home, beat from the sun. I'm such a wimp. I have no idea how people in really hot climates can take it. Nor, how women of 100 years ago could have stood hot summer sun with their confining Edwardian dresses, corsets and....no air conditioning. True ladies changed their outfits many times a day. No wonder, their outfits probably were soaked through. I think it was only around 90 but it felt like hot lead was coursing through my veins. Was able to get in the car, blast the AC and get some relief. Living in the future can be good.

I am tiny and small and all powerful

2005-05-08T19:00:00.000-07:00

DSCN4428_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Went to Jake's b-day (fourth years old!) celebration and were greeted by kids ripping around his house, screaming wildly. Instead of being overwhelmed and ill at ease, I wanted to join them. Skip around and yell. It didn't happen. The best I could do was to document the moments.

I was in the kitchen when a mom called me to come quick and take a picture. I heard monkey giggling and excitement...opened the door and flash took the picture. Bo, face flushed with activity (jumping highest in the photo), got off of the bed and ran to the door to shut it again.

Kids and their secret worlds.

When I was a kid my mom danced and sang in silly voices. And then all of a sudden one birthday I became embarrassed, overly aware of myself. I'm sure that I turned a cold shoulder to her, trying to fit in.

My vision of myself when I was a child, until very recently, was of being surrounded by the mostly adult world of chaos and angst. I wonder now at what kind of a pill I could have been as a kid....crying at any type of hurt, real or imagined....afraid of so much.
Hooray for being silly! It chases away fears and is a perfect suit of armor.

Cuppa happiness

2005-05-01T17:39:00.000-07:00

DSCN4277_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Went to Pamela's b-day breakfast. Yummy French food. Lots of coffee and many people to share the coffee induced chatter with. Trying to ween myself off. Cutting coffee has brought on headaches though, which is a wee bit of a problem for me. The substance is difficult to pull away from. Coffee is so pervasive, it's the one drug that doesn't really have a social stigma attached. When one declares themselves an addict to coffe most people just nod in agreement and grab their cuppa Joe.

bright future

2005-04-29T00:19:00.000-07:00

DSCN4041_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Listening to Sufjan Stevens. Weeping. "when we are dead we won't need legs to stand " he sings. Comforting. Don't know if it's true, but it's just...perfect and beautiful..really. He is coming to LA and I can't wait. That and my visit with Denise in SF are what I am most looking forward to. Stuffed full of edge-of-my-seat anticipation. What else? I want to have that deeper connection with Spirit. I am so full of I don't knows it drives me crazy. The sensual aspect of living has been driven to the far edges of my life lately that I think sometimes that sadness feels like the only escape. Full and rich when it hits. The soft folds of loss fall onto my lips and sneak into the corner of my throat, just to be. Familiar. Safe. Known.

the process

2005-04-24T12:27:00.000-07:00

IMG_1950, originally uploaded by lilylord.

The world is so rich and full of wonderful imagery that is ripe for the taking. When I'm deeply engrossed in the "creative process" the choices that I make seem self evident. Even though there are a myriad of possible visual outcomes, it doesn't seem that way at the time. I love those moments of absolute clarity.

When I take photos w/my point and shoot, in low level lighting conditions; with a lot of activity going on, I generally just hold the camera and point. It affords me the ability to talk to whom I am taking pictures of and not to become bogged down by my crappy eyesight and all of the innumerable technical problems that might occur. I don't look much at the viewer and kind of just feel where the images are. I think some great images come out of that. Was at Passover yesterday and a lady asked as I clicked away taking pictures "Do those pictures turn out?". I muttered that they did, but felt instantly self conscious and then stopped taking pictures...that moment had gone. It felt like when I was a kid and so many times people asked if I needed glasses...disconnected and self aware and not quite as able as the rest of the room. Just need to forge ahead and take photos in the way that works best for me until it becomes second nature and questions won't disturb the process.

Radioactive hype

2005-04-21T08:17:00.000-07:00

DSCN3965_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Went out a few days ago w/Ben to "mix 'n mingle" with the writing set. The point of this party was to create buzz for Media Bistro's "Fishbowl LA". Low ceilings maxed out capacity made it impossible to talk without yelling. It was so loud my ears did start to buzz. That screwed up stereo speaker feeling. I ended up camped out in front of the veggie platter and taking pictures.

I was asked whom I was taking the pictures for and responded "for myself".

Sometimes Los Angeles seems all about the "who" and the "why". Most people have a story they tell of themselves to strangers. Packed with enough detail to engage, but enough generalized distance to be protected (though sometimes those eww overshare moments do occur). I felt kind of odd saying "for myself", kind of unanchored, unprepared, unprotected. But just for that moment. Taking pictures does feel purposeful most of the time. My truth will unfold.

Instant friends

2005-04-18T23:36:00.000-07:00

DSCN3892_bw, originally uploaded by lilylord.

At the dogpark this weekend. Loved hanging out with the dogs. Doggies for the most part, are such friendly creatures (at least those socialized enough to be hanging out at the dog park). And it's quite entertaining and relaxing watching the dogs interact with each other, making new friends with each other (after a hearty sniffing of each other's behind), playing, catching frisbees.

I have doggie fever.

Visited the pound the other day so see if our future Fido was there. I had scoped her out the week before. A boxer mix. Big smiles, batting eyelashes while in the cage and then, transformed into "Santa little helper" hellion hound as soon as she got into the play area. The handler gave up trying to catch her to put her on leash and motioned to Ben and I, yelling over the din of howling and barking with "let's make a run for it". And so we did. We came home empty handed.

Not too sad though, it felt kind of like going on date that turned south early on. Insist on paying the tab...look straight ahead...don't ever mention it again.

Our dog is out there, waiting for us in the not so distant future....waiting for when the timing is just so. Getting ready, prepared, to rescue each other.

Filled with light

2005-04-11T01:39:00.000-07:00

DSCN1206_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

I love pictures of children. Making my living creating, forces me to learn new things everyday. I've grown to enjoy that about my job, and discovered that the only way for me to perform well is to retain that state of constant questioning and niave wonder. Sometimes that does not square with the world that easily. And sometimes experience can rub those edges down and life can lose its luster.

I was often moody and unhappy in my early years. But just as often I was swept away by that sense of wonder that turned the world into a magical place stuffed with mysteries.

Children remind me of this.

A time when the edges could be sharp and rough and almost intollerable but also a time that colors and smells and events were new and intense and filled with light.

In lieu of makeup

2005-04-04T22:56:00.000-07:00

IMG_3618, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Nice to unwind after the day. Watched Velvet Goldmine, about a Bowiesque rock star who liked girls and boys and wore lots of fancy outfits and makeup. The movie didn't have much of a plot...but the boys were pretty. Then hung out w/Heidi, Mike, Ben and Joe and chatted about politics, history, the Pope, cod pieces and facial hair. Talking about fashion and history gets me revved up. Brought over my book of historical costumes and Joe decided that a Napolean era stache and beard was the one for him. My friend Julian (pictured) grew and groomed a very festive looking waxed mustache and beard. Very dashing.

Trying to unplug

2005-03-28T00:40:00.000-08:00

DSCN3279_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Long Easter Weekend. Socializing. Saw a great show at the Music Box, "The Decemberist" with Joe and Ben. Great show. Made me cry in a good way.
Spent the rest of the weekend hanging out with friends, talking mostly about music, art, and then hyper-crazy tabloid topics that have become the news.

I've tried to step away from the 24 hour-isn't-it-so-horrible news. But then, you have a party and there it is, doing it's odd dance, running around naked in the corner....until you don't even talk about the thing (topic of the hour, Teri Shiavvo "brain dead" person and the fight over pulling her life supporting feeding tubes) but about the event of the thing. And I did get sucked in when I heard that Terri Schiavo became who she was from an eating disorder. Suddenly I was interested by this angle. The life-is-stranger-than-fiction ironic twist, that she who was bulimic and got into this mess because she couldn't keep food down, was getting the feeding tube yanked. Deep.

half a heart

2005-03-21T23:45:00.000-08:00

DSCN2989_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Sunny day Sunday. Driving to Malibu with my friend Carrie. Clouds fluffly and low. Sun bright and fierce. Not too hot or cold, just right. Carrie was getting over a heartbreak. Breakups of any sort are hard. We are such social creatures it's hard when those bonds are broken. Memories get shoved under mats...because if they don't, they hamper our function in the world - or at least it feels like it. Good time, perfect time, to spend the day at the beach.

The other day my mom told me about a family friend of ours that she had recently seen. We met her in the 80's with her husband. They were a sweet old fashioned couple who had been married for 50 years. I asked how Slim was and was told that he had died. But that, when he was ill he had asked his wife to marry their best friend, a confirmed bachler (80 at the time). She did, and her grandson marvelled, 10 years later, at what a great man he was. "how could someone be so thoughtful?" he asked "he thinks about everyone and is so nice to you". 80 years living alone, and then happily married. Never too late for love.

landscape

2005-03-15T22:05:00.000-08:00

landscape, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Lots of my landscape photos are taken from the side of the road. Nice way to pass the time and to solidifying the moment. Phew, I love taking them pictures!

My first photo class was 7th grade in a non-traditional hippy school called
The Little School. The idea as I remember it, was that children will learn with gusto when they have the flexibility to choose what they want to learn (plus small classes and lots of attention as well). So Wednesdays were "Wacky Wednesdays" where we could choose from a broad array of cool stuff. So, I found myself some days learning how to weave, writing stories, and sometimes even wandering the school grounds by myself. And as a matter of fact, it really did work. That year I wrote the first two acts of an operetta with the Seattle Opera Company (an overwrought story about dolls that come to life) which the class performed. I learned algebra (big britches stuff for a head in the clouds disorganized 7th grader). I learned how to really draw (thanks to "Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain"), and I found my way around a darkroom for the first time. It was all very forward thinking educationally. And for me it was magic.

Being in the darkroom and seeing those Images that appeared with a flash of light was the start of a love affair with taking pictures.

Everything is so intense when one is a kid, not enough life experience to temper things yet, skillsets not honed, the pain that comes with being such a work in progress. So while I was experiencing all of these amazing things at school, the world also felt intensely dangerous as well. I was taken with the idea that the world would be ripped apart by some type of apocalypse - earthquake, nuclear bomb, killer bees. And the cruelty of kids stung sharply and often. So, some of the joy of those early kernels of kid creativity were eclipsed by my tape loop of fears. Now, with some space can I look back and really appreciate what a wonderful experience all of it was. And how my parents took a great amount of care to make sure those things were part of my life.

Dressed up with sound.

2005-03-11T10:29:00.000-08:00

DSCN2365, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Was walking outside the other day. Heard the clunk, clunk of bowling pins and realised that, in fact, the rather plain building facing the parking lot where I work, was indeed a bowling Alley (see yellow building on the left). Which got me to thinking, how many things we "see" but don't even register as anything in particular until we get that extra piece of info that pushes it all into perspective.

Having crappy eyesight since I can remember, I've become really adept at filling in the gaps when I read signs. Sometimes I get it all wrong. Burger Palace may become Burger Place. And then the thought, how often must that happen when we interact with people?

Sometimes our gut instincts ares right on track. "Oh, what a creep." we might think, and it turns out, the person turns out to be a completely boorish clod. But sometimes we get it all wrong and people are pushed into lands that they had never inhabited because we can't see everything and are filling in the gaps.

Just gotta keep moving, I guess.

Catching on like wildfire.

2005-03-08T01:19:00.000-08:00

DSCN2753_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Trends are so weird. What catches on. What stays with people long after their shelf life has expired. Trucker hats, still worn in hipster establishments (see photo above). I notieced the indy bands sporting them about 4 yrs ago, then hipster kids starting to wear them around LA and finally the trucker hat fashion trend quickly appropriated by Paris Hilton, Guess and other mall rat corporate style makers. Weird.

Speaking of weird, was clicking my blogger bar to check what else is around (being a newbie and all) and noticed a link to a fake corporate blog. The blog is "written" by a t.v. show character, Jane, who talks about sex (kind of) and partying and it's, wouldn't you know it, really quite boring. I kept reading though, because of the whole advertising promotion angle and ended being really icked out. I could imagine the promotion meeting. "Yeah blogging is big. Real big. Let's do a blog for the character...It'll be totally rad. And we should make her, you know, sexy and fun".

Just like with trucker hats, the whole thing seems off - with no proper context and really cheesy. Does anyone buy this stuff?

Is fake blogging the new trucker hat?

Inspiration strikes sometimes at the most obvious moments

2005-03-06T16:23:00.000-08:00

DSCN2667_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Went to my friend Pamela's art show last night. As Ben said "I went to see a friends art show, and ended up seeing an art show". Was really well thought out. Rooms stuffed full of lovely paintings and great ambiance. Nice in the non-ironic way. And they were feverishly finished in the time-frame of three months to boot. It was she that triggered me into taking my pics seriously. And for her it was a gallery owner noticing a painting she did that was hanging at a friend's house. Those moments in which we unleash are fantastic. Birthing ideas that have been cooking for months, years, decades.

Just because it's pretty.

2005-03-03T01:13:00.000-08:00

DSCN2455, originally uploaded by lilylord.

It's raining outside again. Drip, Drip, Drip. Again with the weather! I really don't mind though, right at this moment. Fever activity that comes with insomnia makes it so.

Me, cozy and warm in the house. Feeling extra luxurious and 21st century, sitting in front of the computer in my warm residence. Nice.

Thinking for a second about all of the people who have to serve around the world in the wicked cold, fighting wars...as well as the people who live there with no hope of escape. Perhaps dreaming of hot showers and meals and hugs from people they love.

Long conversation next door about our beauty obssesed culture and the crazy making that happens from that. Stories about the women who work at the makeup counter at Nordstroms who's makeup is "caked on w/a spatula" (Joe), and how shocking it was to see, though considered "normal" in that culture. Discussion about how boys are catching up with the girls and how very sad, and oh so metro.

The wonderful thing about nature is that there are not a whole lot of cultural biases (that I am aware of), that precludes people from appreciating a beautiful sky or lovely rock formations.

Even if you are right, it doesn't make the wrong feel any better.

2005-03-01T18:25:00.000-08:00

DSCN2545_2, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Tired of complaining. Tired of complaints. Watched Academy Awards Sunday...Chris Rock layed a perfectly amusing verbal smack-down on President Bush. I laughed...we all laughed 'cuz we are "the Hollywood left"...*sigh*....but afterwards I didn't feel any type of cathartic edge that usually comes along with this type of amusement. And I realized, I've met my limit. He's in office...not much to do about it now. Yes, the economy sucks. Yes the environment seems worse. Yes, the deficit that is boiling over makes the system seem even more capricious than I had ever thought before. 1 billion...So what. 1 trillion...eh. And the average American is wallowing in personal debt....par for the course.

So, enough of "reality". Time to bring back the old Hollywood glamour...mystery...hope in a bottle. Time for illusion.

Perfect day....magic hands

2005-02-27T00:15:00.000-08:00

DSCN2522, originally uploaded by lilylord.

The lady is back in town...CC, Joe's doggie of the complex. I 've been having so many great "art is what you make it" coversations with friends and friends of friends that I am so inspired. Picture taking is so amazing and exciting. Instant. Fantastic. Revolutionary. Everytime I take a picture I fall in love with the subject. Really. Inspired and deep. Even the broken ones. I look at my hands. Hands that hurt from endless hours on the computer doing the same thing over and over and over again and think, "I have magic hands". That is exciting.

Waiting for storms

2005-02-23T12:56:00.000-08:00

DSCN2247, originally uploaded by lilylord.

LA has had a lot of bumpy weather lately. In between rain and thunder, the clouds are heavy with precipitation. The light is dramatic, shades of green and gray that hint of the danger ahead.

Clouds so pretty I used to cry

2005-02-20T15:06:00.000-08:00

DSCN2133, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Yesterday, floated around Santa Monica. Walked along the edge of the cliffs overlooking the ocean in Santa Monica. The night before, thunder was so loud it rattled the road and set off car alarms. The night after, streets in Hollywood were half a foot deep in water. But yesterday...ah, a respite in the storm and oh so beautiful. When younger and driven by mad teenage hormones, it was the type of day that I would weep from the beauty. The earth can be so visually fabulous at times.

Best Bread Pudding in Town

2005-02-19T00:25:00.000-08:00

DSCN2052_1, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Out at Kate Mantilini's "fancy" diner in Beverly Hills...post gorgefest from an amazing Korean BB place in K town, which rubs shoulders next to Bev Hills. Stuffed full of bread pudding and trying so very hard to control my laughter at Ted Plank's rude-boy and VERY funny-pointed comments and facial expressions. Max's near b-day to celebrate...nice wind down from the roughshod week.

Work, eat, sleep, work

2005-02-17T23:20:00.000-08:00

1:28:01-16, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Are we overworked in the US or is everyone else just lazy?

Just got home from work...exhausted. Stare at the computer.... Carpal tunnel hand hurting. Flamed out....ready for some rest. We are planning a trip up the coast to visit the sea Lions and that crazy newspaper magnate's playground created for himself, William Randolph Hearst. Visited San Simean Castle around 4 years ago with Ben. Had a glorious time...dreamy drive...look forward to it.

Austin Scarlett....out!

2005-02-14T23:24:00.000-08:00

pic_designers_comp_austin, originally uploaded by lilylord.

I love love love...watching Project Runway. The hi-jinks, the drama. The good/bad designs. Meltdowns in the design room (ooh too familiar). Teutonic beauty Hedi Klum bidding the loser "Auf Wiedersehen" with her steely gaze. My "favorite", Austin Scarlett, super Queeny - obssesed with beauty - rail thin and very fragile looking, was booted out last week. Poor Austin, but he stood tall and thanked everyone gracefully. Austin and Queer Eye Carson my two fav. reality boys on tv!

Superbowl Last Sunday

2005-02-13T15:11:00.000-08:00

DSCN1953, originally uploaded by lilylord.

Superbowl Sunday...Morley's b-day and then to the Bhodi tree...nice, relaxing....despite trying hard to avoid the Football broo-ha-ha was pulled into Superbowl fever....seems that Superbowl Sunday has the most domestic abuse calls of any day of the year...So it was the end of the day and was about to go to bed when I had to call the cops 'cuz our next door neighbors were fighting....heard screams and choking sounds...he left for a week and now is back...sports get some people in such a fever pitch....gives 'em an excuse to rumble....ick.

Ban on photos in NY

2005-02-13T00:58:00.000-08:00

Everywhere we go there are images taken of us....ATM, 7-11, etc. for security. Now NYC proposes a ban on photography in the subway system for security purposes. Super lame.

he_could_feel_it_working

2005-02-12T23:30:00.000-08:00

he_could_feel_it_working
Originally uploaded by lilylord.

My forray into fine art. Timeframe one year. Got the images, now I just have to get the show. Questions bouncing around in my head. How do I show, frame, matt etc. Out of tens of millions of people I gotta reach inside and get the moxie that is stuffed inside. Combat the sadness...create.

all about the pics

2005-02-12T23:24:00.000-08:00

Just joined www.flickr.com posting lots of photos. It's kind of addictive. One of tens of thousands but it feels unique and special to me. Saw Hotel Rwanda today. Sad movie. Came home and slept for three hours. Heavy movie=naptime.