Mixed feeling

Again, the “in between”.

I hate it.

Deeply.

Not only because I need to simplify a little my situation, but also because I don’t feel like …

Anyway, Joy, if you’re reading this – and I know you will – I had a great time with you & Arnaud last Thursday.

And Friday morning.

I liked having some quality time with my friends. Drinking Vodka & Whysky and having this “NO TOMORROW” state of mind… I liked knowing it had been a special moment. Speaking about our lives like nothing could matter.

Continuing the topic while watching an episode of HIMYM… but without understanding what the fuck was going on.

Or waking up and writing a little note to thank the host of the improvised “soirée”.

And some other stuffs too.

Thanks again for letting me sleep on your couch. I couldn’t have gone back to my place… not after all those shots…

I don’t have much else to say…

I don’t know how I feel about by “non-relationship” with Naoko.

All I know is that I need to talk to her.

Sooner the better.

Dammit.

寸前 : sun’zen

“On the verge”

Yeah, I must admit I’m “on the verge” of … I don’t know what yet. Separation seems a little too much.

A serious talk seems more appropriate.

I hate this. You know, the four “final” words :

“We need to talk.”

But I have to.

Time is irreversible.

It’ll probably be “my sad night”.

Or not.

I knew it right from the beginning.

Or maybe I can show her that I don’t want anything serious…

I don’t think she’s looking for anything serious anyway.

She’ll go.

I’ll stay.

Summer will pass.

Period.

Roll

36 poses.

36 images.

Not all goods.

Not all bads.

There must be a middle. I don’t produce a lot of pictures. Especially those last months. I had a somewhat busy month in august. End of July too.

I was kinda busy with my own life … didn’t pay much attention to photography. I did take some pictures though.

I’m sure she liked the song of Iron & Wine. I bet it was “Cinder & Smoke”. Of course I might be wrong.

Just 1/125th, and I could have taken the “perfect moment”.

Missed.

There were some other good moments.

At Joy’s for instance:

Hélène talking about some translation. Hard shit.

Shapes … phtography rules … environment … everything must be connected. And fuck the “out of focus area”. Not sharpen enough and shit.

I’m all manual … the only thing that isn’t is the shutter speed cuz I can’t control it.

50mm F/1,4 prime on a 20-25yo camera. Tmax 100ASA roll.

You may find good moments elsewhere :

Before Spanish lessons begin. She must hate me when I have my camera.

She hated being taken on a photo.

Bullshit, she’s so pretty it would be a crime not to be taken.

Speaking of which, my “not that much” girlfriend doesn’t like to be taken either. SHE’S FUCKING BEAUTIFUL.

There I said it.

Don’t think I’m all in love and shit. You’d be wrong.

She’s just da-amn fine. I know it. One day maybe … but that’ll be on the new Tmax 400 I have loaded in my cam.

There is no guy here.

I’m not sexist.

I’m a guy.

I like girls.

Pretty ones.

Consider it as a lifestyle.

Some may not are pretty … but they’re so intelligent you’d feel ashame. I sometimes did. Not that often, but still.

I don’t waste much time on average people.

I cannot care about anyone I happen to bump into everyday.

I do wear massive old-school headphones for a reason.

Not being bored.

Feel the music.

Switch the brain off.

Sometimes on… but not that often.

I should message Naoko.

Thoughts

Small thoughts.

I was contemplating stuff, as usual when I wait for something. This time it was for Rachael Yamagata new album. I love her first one.

I was thinking about photography. The usual crap : what could I take with my 50. Should I buy a 35 or a grip.

Same old shit.

But then I came across a brush. Actually, the brush I use to clean the body of my cam.

Then it was obivous.

Photography is perhaps the only art that doesn’t need any kind of process when performing it. Taking the picture. Snap. Thwat. Whatever the sound your shutter produces.

It striked me.

You cannot show anyone the progress of the piece of art, or memory, or whatever, you’re actually creating. *SNAP*; it’s done.

I mean, when you brush something, it generally takes more than 1/125th of second right? Or when you practise with your guitar, it’s doesn’t take 1/30 of sec either.

Even cinema; which can be also compared to photography, has a final result you can show … and the whole framing thing can been seen.

Photography doesn’t.

A moment.

SNAP.

Next, please!

Of course it takes time to actually sharpen your eyes, and understand what the fuck is going on when you take a photo. When you press the button.

Sure enough, you may have spent a year trying to figure what aperture/shutter speed is the best for a subject etc.

But the result of all this lies in a quarter of a second. Often less. Sometimes more.

… I mean, even though you take a long exposure shot, the mirror will goes up and block your view.

…

Yeah, I should continue another time. I’m tired.

Dans les blés

qui remuent sous les vagues venteuse d’un jour d’été. Ani Difranco, le retour.

J’ai appris aujourd’hui, et pourtant les signes (encore eux) étaient déjà passés par là, que je n’avais pas besoin de me transformer pour la comprendre.

Juste écouter celui qui, au fond, n’a jamais été entendu.

Celui qui me dicte les images dans l’oreille. Les chuchotte à mon cerveau. Mon Rimbaud miniature, en quelque sorte. Celui qui est poète, incompris, sur les routes, et sans le sous. “Les poings dans mes poches trouées.”

Pourquoi ai-je toujours été touché par la culture japonaise ? Allez savoir. Il ne doit pas y avoir de réponse tangible … ce qu’il y a, en revanche, c’est le résultat actuel des choses.

Elle.

Ma “muse”.

Je dois désapprendre ce que j’ai appris.

Ce n’est pas simple d’être “schyzophrène” pour la bonne cause. Penser une chose chez soi, une autre dehors.

J’avais lentement, mais sûrement, tué un moi pour le remplacer par un autre. Et je dois maintenant le ranimer.

Pauvre petit corps recroquevillé sur un sol poussiéreux.

*CLEAR*

Buddhism

” One late autumn night, the disciple awoke crying. So the master asked the disciple, ‘Did you have a nightmare?’ ‘No.’ ‘Did you have a sad dream?’ ‘No,’ said the disciple. ‘I had a sweet dream.’ ‘Then why are you crying so sadly?’ The disciple wiped his tears away and quietly answered, ‘Because the dream I had can’t come true.’ “

Byung-hun Lee, in Dalkomhan Insaeng (A Bittersweet Life)

-

Acutally, I feel like even Asami cannot beat what I have right now… and the bastard has probably everything he wants.

I guess I’m just more successful. Couldn’t have believed this shit 6 months ago though.

…wow.

Impressive.

is the first word that came through my mind this morning.

The second part of the morning.

The one you wake up from a all night long party.

The one, for a split second you can’t remember what the hell happened.

Just look to your left.

To your right.

Be amazed.

It continues.

I cannot really say everything I want, but I surely can explain a little.

Yesterday was a crazy day.

Mostly after 5PM.

Shopping for the big party at my place.

Then the preparations.

The guests coming.

The one you have to go outside to help her get to the party.

Even though it rains.

And you’re only wearing a shirt.

Then the after.

1 more guest.

3 more guests.

And eventually the muse.

Last one to come.

The one that has waited for a long time.

The one you were waiting for a long time.

Muses may overlap.

She doesn’t play on the same category.

She dazzles.

A lot.

Everybody’s dazzled when she comes.

That’s what muses do: they impress people.

Even me.

-

I overthought at 4am.

I guess it was because I had a lot of booze in my half spanish hot blood.

Or because it was late.

Or maybe because I feel a bit strange about all this going on.

I took my chance.

-

“Sometimes we find amusing coincidences.”

Well, that couldn’t have been more true.

That was a fucking proleptic statement.

I wonder how long this muse will stay a muse.

I’m sure she’ll do just fine.

She is a muse after all.