annual birthday self portrait project.
Beer bust at the notorious Lone Star Saloon for my 41st birthday.
*anyone actually pay attention to RSS feeds .. (anymore?) – if I did this right it’ll post on my birthday… so – if you’re in the 415 area code – come by!
had a BLAST
Thanks guys for making my birthday great!
weeeeee… more cathartic personal projects…. voila – another CD.
Worked on this set mostly over the Spring … and then… sat on it…
I’ve pulled blogging back to a trickle… if you’re just here for the download link – it’s at the bottom of the page. Â The following is a bunch of personal crap that I used to be so comfortable sharing but anymore is a real chore. The act actually kicks off a freaky fear response and makes me want to calm up.
Despite this – historically – I *always* feel better when I can write stuff down.
Nutshell wrap up in case you’d been following journal posts in the olden days of Livejournal:
Hat in hand, tail between legs… embarrassed… humiliated… hurt… The guys were gracious and supportive in allowing me to come back and live with them as a roommate.
The biggest casualty through this has been Chad with whom I’d never lost my connection. IÂ forfeited our relationship to Kevin rationalizing that he’ll be o.k. and that this was all for the best… I couldn’t have been more myopic, insensitive and downright wrong.
While I was busy fighting my gut instincts and stubbornly trying to force my square will Â through the round hole of reality – Chad hurt… Â bad… He would work through it – and there with the support and love of Kevin get through it and find a new relationship between the two of them…
He moved on… I moved in.
The following months would be awkward and difficult as I come to terms with this.
The first six of seven stages of grief had their way with me:
At the behest of doc I went onto an antidepressant and into a therapist. I’d start living at the gym… and thinking… a lot.
After a few sessions of reviewing my predicament and feelings – the therapist would helplessly shrug and in so many words tell me: “You’re doing everything you need to do – you’re simply grieving.”
My theory about therapy was proven…Â You want a therapist to say something to make the pain go away… to give you “the answer”… but answers come from within. The therapist is just there to coach you along with digging around in your own head.
Eventually the weight would start to lift… the haze clear…
The 7th and final stage of grief began: Â “Acceptance and Hope”.
I’d remember my past life’s precepts that had served me so well before yet somehow forgot: “focus on what you have and be grateful – not on what you don’t have or what is lost.”
So what do I have… What, after all this, am I left with?
1) A shit ton of life lessons.
2) Two very special men who I call family… My best friends… who mean the world to me.
3) and I increased my bench press by about 40lbs. ;-P
In the end, “Grief is Good Medicine”.
This work is dedicated to Chad.
01: Linus & Lucy
02: Believe in your Best Levels
03: Leveled Without You
04: Running Without You
05: Â Africa
06: Leave Me to Love
07: Here is the House
08: Oh L’Amour
09: Let You Go
10: Love Overload / (lockdown)
11: Fade Into Someone Like You
12: Who Knew Someone Like You
Another silly fun shoot… The bear club had a “Trailer Trash” theme party at JJ’s a ways back which everyone seemed to have a lot of fun with including favorite faggling Dustin. I didn’t make it to the party myself but received updates via Instagram which included a pic of his costume / persona, “Sea Bass”.
After I got up off the floor from laughing hysterically I sent him a message insisting that Sea Bass make an appearance here so I could photograph him…. He did… so I did.