i was almost an abortion

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

95 Christopher Street apartment 3M



                                                                                                           my bedroom, in my bed, with the deer head my grandfather shot when i was 3 that was over my grandmothers fireplace till she died.






classic j/o
the 95 series

when your house is more than a home, and becomes your work space and studio, things get changed, rearranged, mixed up, used as props, and photographed...which, in turn, leaves you with memories of the home you no longer inhabit, but will never forget. such is the case with my home of 15 years, the legendary landmark Manhattan building, 95 Christopher Street which is now a memory, but it's insides and out were used in excess providing me with unequalled views, unbelievable structure and unparalleled experiences of a life lived to the fullest, when times were good. many people entered the building to visit, queen latifa, hundreds of gay porn stars, a few of them even legends...amy sedaris was my next door neighbor for all of the 15 years i lived there, her brother david, sarah jessica parker and her man mathew and their kid wandered in n out of my neighbors home, bumping into me and my dog buddy who sat watch at the end of the hallway every afternoon. quentin crisp still lived there when i moved in, but died a few years later. it wasn't uncommon to have amy knock and offer some home cooking in return for borrowing lights or something random for her newest coffee table venture...or to smoke weed at the end of a long day.
it was home, it was nice. it's now just a memory, but a fond one, and one i'll never forget, especially because it was my studio for so many years.
all of these shots were taken at various times in 95. some on the roof, some in my apartment, fire escapes, elevator shafts, hallways...u name it...i exploited it. 
luckily.

elevator shaft


rooftoprooftop


outside deck of Andrew Ruth's apartment on the 16th floor



my living room 


                             my living room


my bedroom

my living room



roof

trials and tribulations of true love



have you lost your mind?
can you even hear yourself,
and if so, do you understand what your saying
or have you totally forgotten what really happened?

it amazes me.
someone who you once loved,
someone who you shared a life with,
someone who you thought, even after all that,
was your friend...
turns out they are actually more sinister,
more hideous and evil
than your worst enemy could possibly ever be.
there of course,
is a back story...
one with twists and turns
highs and lows
ups and downs
that have brought you both to this place of uncertainty.
he said, she said,
we did,
you did...
fingers point, 
tables turn,
what once was good goes bad
another lesson learned.
but why is it that no one remembers that there was once upon a time, a long time ago, when we were one. when we loved, we laughed, we supported, we helped and most importantly, we cared for each other...before the milk went sour, the two of us held each other close, whispered that this, we hoped, was forever, and we sweetly kissed, softly touched, and surely wished that the moment would never end. can't we all just get along? don't you see that what you did effected me, very badly? or, is there just no sense of moral left in your body...
because, how i see it...
if you loved someone, i mean, really loved...
you will always love them, somehow...deep down.
they will always have a place in your heart...
things go wrong, things change...
but true love never completely dies...

why do we have to do this?
i said i was sorry...
is it so hard for you to see how you've hurt me?
and really...
do i deserve that?