miss cook...

did anyone fucking notice anime/manga is right next to photography in categories?

sooooooo not fucking right.

flame away. don't fucking care.

ya' know ... she's not miss cook ... she's someone's mrs.

i forget who he is as he's almost never out with her.

funny how hollywood works. everyone hooks up but no one wants to admit they're in a relationship.

some producer won't feel "there's a way in" if there's a man standing guard.

and perhaps that part ... from that off-chance meeting will never materialize.

dunno.

anyway ... rachael.

she names my cameras every time she sees me.

the names change every time.

they've been ... betty ... gladys ... katherine ...

and many others.

but i can't remember.

why does she name them?

why are they always girls names?

i've never asked.

i've never felt i really needed to know "the why."

sometimes the why isn't as important as the mystery.

the magick.

because i believe that sometimes it is magick.

not the harry blackstone or the david copperfield ... magic.

but .. that other kind.

i mean ... how many others go to work ... they never know where they're going to work from day to day or hour to hour ...

but ... what kind of work really gives one goose-bumps.

no, it doesn't happen every time.

it can't.

it's ain't right if it does.

but ... when it does ...

it's cool.

it happens with miss cook, samaire, jolene ... yes ... many ...

but not all.

'cause the turnip truck doesn't drop off those with the "it" eyes ...

all that often.

it's interesting to me.

i'm on the balcony (one of like 8) of this US$11M house. having a vodka straight up. yeah, it was 16.00 but ... whatever.

i may have been a bit visibly upset.

i was on the phone.

sucking on an american spirit.

and miss cook says, "growing up ... is tough. but the advice you just gave to whoever was on the phone ... was moving."

maybe i'm attracted to drama.

maybe that's why i'm in hollywood.

around "the hollywood."

but ... i showed her who i was on the phone with as my wallpaper is a bluetoothed leica photo of b and i.

she took my phone and really studied it.

and said, "tell your daughter she's beautiful. that i said she was beautiful. that i said there is so much in her eyes. so much more than any person who could demean her."

all this ...

whilst looking out over the basin ... where it looks like someone gave los angeles a dirty sanchez...

she smiled.

and said, "lets go take some pictures."

i honestly hope every person who sees one of my photographs and who wants to do this as their job ...

gets to feel this feeling.

at least once.

because beyond being a father to my daughter...

nothing means more to me than making a photo.

the joy is equal.

and that doesn't mean i'm degrading the relationship i have with my daughter by comparing it to "something i do for a living."

'tis much more than that.

much much more...

and those of you who know.

know.

and those of you who don't ... yet ...

i hope you do.

no drug in the world comes close.

not that i know.

leica mp. noctilux 50/1.0 with 1 stop heliopan ND. 1/125th at f/1.4. ilford delta 400 (normal).

p.s., my little b's really into the group "dirty pretty things." you know how much that makes me smile? that she's seeing the difference between a band like that and the bands (cough cough) which are crammed down the throats of her friends? she's particularly fond of "bang bang you're dead."