The difference between pictures and photos...

I used to think that it was way more important to try and take photos. On vacation, I thought the most important thing to capture was the place - that place you might never visit again - that place that captured your breath for a moment. I always thought, well, the people that I meet I'll always remember but the nuances of the place - the feelings I had while I was there, those can be remembered while glancing at a photo of that place.

This morning I went through my vast collection of photos, snapshots, and pictures of my life. I found myself shuffling through the images of places and pausing when I got to the images of people. "Wow look how young we look!" or "Oh my God, I haven't seen him (or her) in a long time!" or "I miss them so much!" Not one of the images of a place made me feel that way. The pictures of places made me think something more along the lines of "Meh, hey I remember being on our way to that State Fair in Alabama and stopping at a Kroger's and being shocked that they sold Malta!" Granted, no where do I have a picture of the guys on the tour bus drinking the malta, or the horrified faces they made when they smelled it. Those pictures would be priceless.

Prince fans on the other hand, I have tons of pictures of. I realize why though, and it's said. Cameras weren't allowed inside Paisley Park, and all the images I have from inside the park were taken for the website, and even in those pictures there are humans in the shots.

I have tons of pictures of Puerto Rico, a place I go to constantly and truly have no need for images of it. I can close my eyes and be there instantly. I have 3 pictures of my grandmother who is now gone, bless her soul. I have 2 pictures of my stepmother - who is no longer with us either. I have 47 pictures of the front of my Dad's house. Explain this to me!

I have countless pictures of the Chicago Skyline, but only 3 pictures of me with my childhood best friend Dahlia. I can't even find any pictures of my friends from grade school, nor any from high school either. The images I have of people are plentiful, don't get me wrong. But they are far out numbered by pictures of places.

I think I have something like 700 photos taken out of a car window in Boston, a place that I never ever want to see again. I have no pictures of Rhode Island, a place that I believe might be one of the most beautiful in the continental U.S. I've been an idiot with pictures. I'm going to start carrying a camera and documenting all of my friends. It's time I stopped taking pictures of random places, and started taking pictures of beautiful people.

Courage

Bravery

Someone read the post above and thanked me for giving them a voice. I have to thank them for reminding me that it's out there for anyone to read. It was brave to post it the first time, but there's a certain courage in knowing that it's there as long as this website is up.

I started this website back in 1995. Back then, it was a silly page with animated Prince symbols that floated around and linked you to garbage. Then this site became a repository for my poetry - which I truly need to update as all of those "poems" are either horrible or old as dirt. Before "blogging" was cool, I changed it up again, this time to a little diary page where I'd post pictures and stories. Then I started posting photos and digital artwork. In 2003, I got tired of it all and opted to add an actual "blog" to the page.

At the time, I didn't know what that actually meant... this "blog". I didn't know where it would go. If you go back and read some of the old entries, a lot of them don't even make sense. They are non-sequiturs - little blurbs of crap. You can tell what was going on in my life at the time, and how I've grown up a lot in the last 6 years. There are all the photos of my friends - having fun. Some of these photos have been photoshopped to protect the guilty, and I'm clearly not stupid enough to post any of myself doing anything I'd regret posting.

There are raging posts about things that angered me. Posts of love when I was married. Posts that took brass clangers to write, and some that took a lot more to actually post. The Bravery post, that one took a lot out of me. Sure, it was posted as a note on Facebook first, it took more bravery to post it there as the audience is immediate. Reposting it here gave it permanence, and that took courage. Courage that comes in knowing that once I post something I rarely delete it. Courage that comes in knowing who I am and not making apologies for it.

Leo Buscaglia, The Spoke, and Laughter

There are people that enter your life for the shortest little moments to remind you of things like - who you really are, the truth of your character, and to continue to breathe. Last night, I was angry. That's an understatement, I was beyond angry. I had some good news delivered to me, chased by someone passing their negativity on to me like a fucking olympic torch. Blah. It stuck to me like toilet paper on a shoe, and I couldn't shake it off.

I got to the Spoke and I sit down and start to offload my misery. But it's still there, I'm still pissed - even when I am told, "oh fuck 'em, you should be happy!" So, I sit and get cursed once again with the Maggie moniker... Maggie, meaning magnet for crazy folk. Every time that moniker gets thrown at me - it's literally like a curse. I went outside before the curse hit, thinking that outside I'd be safe. Boy was I wrong.

Then I had the Buscaglia moment. A man with maybe 3 or 4 teeth in his mouth, who is clearly advanced in age, walks up to me and says, "Hi, you look happy." Now, without realizing it, I was. Not because I was throwing back cocktails, but because after 15-20 minutes of laughing inside the Spoke, the negative crap - the toilet paper - finally shook off. I hadn't even noticed.

"I guess I am happy," I replied, almost shocked at the notion that my anger had disappeared.

"That's great, better to be happy - because life is too short!" He was spewing out cliché happiness and love quotes like a drunk who can't handle his liquor. But the truth is, that little man reminded me of two all important things:

1. Happiness is something you can be without needing anyone to give you anything to change that. Happiness isn't spontaneous, it's a choice you can make.

2. There is no reason to be angry when someone else lays their negative shit on you.

Granted, the silly toothless man didn't say either of those things. And I laughed rather hard when my friend said, "I feel like I'm suddenly in a Leo Buscaglia book." I mean seriously, that's hilarious - who the fuck pulls that literary reference out of their ass? Truth is ultimate and funny - and I might revisit some Buscaglia - as I haven't read him since I was a kid - and only then because my Mom had his books on her shelf. But answer me, how could one not read a book called simply, "Love"? One thing I'll always remember - because it stuck with me for a long time...

Love is always open arms. If you close your arms about love you will find that you are left holding only yourself. -LB