Saturday, October 28, 2017

October 2017

I have photos I wish to show.
a bluish Tatum taken at the Shady Del vintage trailer park. Bisbee, Az. 2017


Denietta takes a shower at the Majestic hotel. SF 2004


Felice uses a weezy allowing her to stand and pee. 2004


Felice going out in SF. 2004

Felice and Petra in Tucson in my mother's house before I cluttered it


spank marks?


I ofter used to take chances when shooting in public places. In the end I was never allowed back into the Majestic hotel. SF 2004


Felice and fake tits and a bottle of wine. Majestic Hotel 2004


Denietta watches Felice at work on our living room computer 2004


Felice and Petra kissing in matching adult diapers and nipple augmentation


Teddy, Felice and a glass of orange juice



Felice applying nipple augmentation





yesterday (Oct. 28,2017) as the light was fading. new pantyhose, old corset girdle


me and Willa . I shot this in Jim Reed's cool house. In his bedroom. It was so pleasant to work with someone who wasnt uptight.






















Tuesday, October 24, 2017

I almost die on my birthday

I went away to enjoy tide pools on my 71 st birthday like I used to do with my two daughters at two different times when they were growing up in San Francisco. I took the train to LA from Tucson. Pleasant enough. Left Tucson at 8:30 pm and my old friend and former student Hugh Williams picked me up at Union Station at 6 am and we went over to Canter's on Fairfax for breakfast.
He dropped me at Dave and Ori's above Melrose in west Hollywood. Later Amy, Numa, Durmel, Dave, Ori, Steve and Yee met me at Hamaya on 1803 Sawtelle for pre birthday dinner. Very pleasant.

I should have known trouble ahead since the woman I was going away with didnt show.
Her birthday was the next day and I was late getting there after breakfast with Elia and Dave at Fred Segal's on Melrose. She said she was nausceous but we left.
Every moment felt tense. She wasnt feeling well. Didnt like the way i drove. Everything was wrong. I ended up buying take out at a Mexican joint closing the minute I walked in (8pm). The place we were renting was pleasant with horses, chickens, dogs and children in what Steinbeck called the salad bowl of America south of Salinas. (Much too much pesticides in the air)




 The next day i cooked us breakfast in our (complete) kitchen.




 She wasnt feeling well. The original idea was to go to SF and eat in this prison workers restaurant on Embercadero street on my birthday. She said she wanted to leave the next day back to her home by 11 am instead of dinner in SF. She said she was well enough to do one thing that day. Visit the John Steinbeck museum in Salinas and see the van he lived in. No mention of tide pools. humm. shitty I thought. We argued and she drove to the Monterrey peninsula tide pools and wouldn't also do Steinbeck.




Later we stopped long enough for sunblock and
chicken at Safeway. Tense. No fun.

That nite we watched Tony Curtis and Burt Lancaster  with blonde bombshell Barbara Nichols in Sweet Smell of Success, a fabulous 1957 noire with cinema work by James Wong Howe ( I have shots of him on a Cass Carr camera outing with Betty Page).
The next day (my birthday) she screams at me and I offer to sit in the back which I do resizing early photos of mine. She's blasting Van Halen and driving fast. I happen to look up and on the road between highway 101 and Interstate 5 she's driving holding her cell phone in her right hand and passing a gas truck. I look and there is a car coming fast right at us with no lane to avoid us! I scream "WHAT ARE YOU DOING" and she suddenly realizes she is about to kill us and slams on her breaks and gets back into her lane. I said I wanted to drive. She almost killed us in a head on, but she wont let me.

Back at her house we agreed NEVER to see each other again. Wow. We should be dead today, tomorrow and forever.

Thursday, October 19, 2017

"You post any of these photos and I'll Contact the Authorities"

when I was younger and someone threatened me I'd tear them to pieces but I am older and I will forget her as easy as bad weather. I shot a woman today with her bad tattoos and cut marks and what turned out to be her inexperience. She signed my model release and gave me her id and minutes after leaving to go dance at the Reef she called in tears saying she never should have given me her social security number. I assured her no one would see it but it was the only way to publish the photos I had taken. I had done some shots of her masturbatiing with a thorn on a gaggle of Samsonite colored luggage in my living room. (I try and bring nature into my erotica ...and humor). She called saying her dad would kick her out of his house if he saw the shots. (She's supposedly a mature adult at 23 years old) I explained she should have thought of that before posing. I called her back and told her I wouldnt endanger her living conditions and wouldnt publish the shots. Then I sent her a shot of her nude from the back carrying the Betty Page original photo I had given her as payment for her time (Kroll swag), a shot of her fully clothed next to a vintage doll with red hair I had recently bought in Truth or Consequences, and a shot of her doing her make-up with Andy Warhol behind her and my face under her. She wrote me saying if I published these shots she'd go to the authorites.
Minutes ago she wrote me saying since I didnt give her a copy of the model release she signed, but didnt ask for, it was illegal. I'm not certain what planet she is from but her reasoning is simple and wrong.
But as I wrote above...it is easier to forget her and I will until Puerto Rico freezes over or dirt turns to jade or salt turns to ginger.

Sunday, October 1, 2017

what I can't put on instagram


Ashlyn having her heel put on


Ashlyn reaches out in my backyard cactus gatdrn of Eden


trying organically to stimulate her nipples


with John Holmes aka Johnny Wadd blow up doll


her beauty allows her to command


Missy helps Ashlyn avoid rge dangers of the old man cactus in my side garden.




Behind Ashlyn is Weegee portrait of Hans Belmer sculpture in my bedroom