people typecast me as some old queen in the "porn" industry
which is like, the biggest insult ever.
i mean, hello?
really??
anyway, i happen to also be smart, as well as cute and hung...
so...
ok, here we go again...
"whiskey sour" photographed one late night after his/her performance at my friends Fran and Jay's home upstate NY
one of the many campaigns i shot when i was asked to contribute my "talents" to BLACKSMOKE.ORG in their Danger Global Warming campaign. i was asked because they needed someone who they thought could target queens who usually don't give 2 shits...
as a child, we are encouraged to find things we like, or have an interest in, and develop the basic fundamental skills so as we may understand them early on. then, when we get older, we may take the knowledge that we already have, and use without even thinking about it, and push them to yet another level. by combining this perfected skill with the other developed skills we have gathered from all the other different life experiences, we can push the skills to another level that in turn leaves a truly unique mark. each individual develops and refines each skill completely separately and specifically different from each other, because every single person will show interest in, and developed different levels of skill in, each specific area. everyone, in their own way, raises or lowers the bar each and every time they produce all and any single thing. this is how society grows, changes, and rises to a higher level of taste and knowledge.
personal developments;
i have developed many skills, most of which i find, in this society, are pretty useless. i can dress someone to a T, make sure their clothes fit to within an inch of their lives, push visual stimulation by mixing and matching different colors, stripes, plaids, layer tweak and pin up everything so that when a camera or spotlight is ready to hit it, it appears to be hand tailored to whoever i've dressed. i also learned that i have an untaught skill for taking photographs, creating situations that tell stories so that each photo makes the viewer have to think about the photo for more than a few seconds, and the other skill i developed without knowing when where how or why i developed it, is light and how it effects and changes, enhances and makes magnificent, everything it touches. these skills are all things i learned completely without trying. they are not things i sought out, nor are they things that i went to school for. they are just things that somehow, somewhere, i picked up, and then, proceeded to enhance due to hours spent playing with and making mistakes in, doing. every time i do something that i find interesting that i like a lot and really concentrate on, i notice that when it's seen by other people's eyes, they are in awe of just how i did it. the angles remain the same, usually, but the subjects change, situations around them change, and then, somehow, it all comes together in an unusual way that i have put a signature mark on, somehow.
it's not that i do things flippantly, on the contrary, i always know what i want to see in the final product, but then, as i sit and play with it, get input from the people i am working with, make changes and refine the light or lack of, around it, enhance and define, mask or unveil different things that each subject holds and reveals when they are in front of my camera. every single person is different from the next, because, they all have different views, fears, ideas, experiences in, and personal flaws that they want to show off or accentuate. and these change in time, as every time a person is experienced in doing something they maybe have never done before, they start to gain trust, knowledge, and experiences that can make them better, or worse, and also make it easier, or more difficult for me, or whoever is there working with them.
example,
shooting Channing Tatum at 19 is, i am sure, a very different thing than shooting him today. he has a more in depth knowledge (although he innately always did) of his good and bad angles, what kinds of light he looks best in, how he must prepare for each and every time he appears in front of a camera, his diet the day, even week before, as to make his skin, body, muscles and energy, be at peak performance, wardrobe he looks best in, and, well, i think you get it...
develop your skills in something random. try to really concentrate and work on something you once showed an interest in, that you never really gave a chance. realize that today, with all of the other random things you have learned in your life, all the experiences you have had in varied things even every interaction you have ever had with any and everyone, somehow, changes, enhances, and develops every single thing you will try, do, say, or think, for the rest of your life.
Lying cuddled at his thighs was his baby, his best friend, the only one that had been there, seen it all, the good the bad and the ugly of the past four years. he reached down and rubbed his head, and when he did, the boy looked up, opened his big blue eyes and lightly, gently, sweetly licked his hand which sent shivers of joy through his whole body. when he went to adjust himself and put his right hand under his head so he could get just a tad closer to his baby boy, he felt the other one. the new one. the sweet girl who was his roommates dog, but she had kind of moved in with him and his boy. she was curled up by his head, and when he nudged her, she looked up, and made a soft happy sound and curled in just a little closer.
here he was, in bed, on a day he wasn't sure he could face alone, with the two babies he had adopted and kept safe and warm. he didn't need anything else.
Of course there were things he would like, things he maybe could use, but, the reality of it was, this was exactly where he wanted to be, right now, right there, with exactly who he wanted to be with, more than anything.
it was even before the day began, and already, it was better than any day he could remember in a long, long time...
maybe this was the start of something completely different
than he ever imagined...
maybe this was the sign he had been looking for so long, for...
maybe that last chapter of his life was finally over and he was now, stronger, for having survived it.
Nadia Ali - Rapture (Avicii New Generation Extended Mix)
true story:
i was booked to shoot a band that consisted of a guy and a girl who were very sweet, very nice, and from what i understood, pretty big in Europe...for all i knew, cause i never heard of em. i had already shot their first "album" but of course once i turned in the film, i never saw it, and quite honestly, didn't think anything of it...it was just another shoot. they walked into the studio, smiles, kissed me, said thanks, they love love loved the last shoot, and were so excited to see what we would do that day. after hair and make-up, i was all ready, lights in place, everything was great, i was shoving a bagel with cream cheese and salmon down my throat when they walked onto set, as the radio played in the background, and i started clicking. maybe an hour into the shoot, on the radio, comes this song i had been hearing, and loved. i didn't know what it was called, but knew the catch phrase..."mi amore don't u know...la la la la la" and as i swallowed yet another bagel, singing as i shot photos of the duo, i asked, "omg, i love this song...have u heard it?" to which i was greeted with silence, then laughter, then Nadia, the girl, comes over and hits me in the head and says "you don't know who this is?" "no..." i said, like the idiot that i am...
well, do i have to finish the story?
of course, it was them, and i was an idiot, but, it was such a compliment to them, as they realized that i truly loved the song without knowing that i had the two people responsible, her, with her voice, his magical writing, in front of me...
anyway, exactly 40 minutes ago, i crossed the line from middle aged into old. ugh.
it was uneventful.
it was nothing exciting.
i sat in front of the computer, as usual, doing Photoshop, and thinking about what i would like to do differently as an old man, than i did as a youngster.
here goes...
when i wake up, i will not let myself begin the same routine i have played into for 46 years. i will not because it's time to change. start a new, try things with another outlook.
i haven't figured out exactly what this would be but, i am thinking. when i figure it out, i will let you know...
it's just, i need a change.
i need to wake up and feel happy.,
i need to wake up and be excited...
and i need to be more aware that i am not changing the world, nor am i moving mountains, curing A.I.D.S., or cancer, but, i am making people smile, somewhere in the world, someone, is seeing something i've done, and they are smiling...or jerking off...either way, i have done something i am proud of...and so, maybe i'm not the greatest American Hero, maybe i'm not Bill Gates, or Obama, but hell, i am who i am, and, i guess...
hoping for the best but expecting the worst...jaded?nah...
not because i've seen it all before, been excited over expectations that fall short, people who disappoint, things that just don't pan out... but, if you think back and try to remember, there was a Once Upon a Time...
a day when everything was golden, everything was a thrill, everything was magic, and exciting, fun, and pure...and, it was when nothing seemed to matter, there wasn't a care in the world, life seemed like it would last forever, possibilities were endless, and you never ever thought that this world would end...and then, something happens that doesn't go perfectly, and like watching a Polarioid develop, things became clear, come into focus, and the harsh reality of the bright lights shines sometimes, a bit to harsh, makes things look different, maybe, not as beautiful as you remembered, and then one day it becomes apparent, that life will never be the same again... so remember this: dreams don't have to die. so don't let them.don't stop believing that today is just another day, and tomorrow everything is a new beginning, life is good, and you can do/be/have anything u desire...
i'll be 46 years old tomorrow, and i am alive because my grandmother caught my biological mother on the way to the hospital and told her to just forget it, i was to be born, no matter what...i was "HER" grandchild for Christ's sake...and i was meant to be.
i grew up a spoiled rotten boy, placed on a pedestal and told i was "special" since day 1. i was a "miracle", and so, that's the only way i ever saw myself. Until i went to school. see, i didn't have any friends growing up...i'm Italian, we don't have friends, we have cousins, family members, to keep us company, and that way, there is no chance of bad influences getting to us by the "white" people, or even worse, the "colords". but at school,. where other people who had spent their first 5 or 6 years in very different ways than i could ever imagine, they looked at me like i was an alien, even worse, a fat alien, because i was considered "husky" because of the fact that my mother made me home made bread everyday, and i was given my own loaf with a stick of butter, and i ate it all while sitting comfortably in front of the t.v. watching cartoons.
a lot happened in between the ages of 5 and 12, like, i lost 30 pounds in 2 months, which, if anyone really thought about it, was because i also grew almost 8 inches, so, has anyone heard of "puberty"? no, my mother thought for sure i was going to die, so i went to the doctor every day to do blood work, see how i was, was i sore? did i hurt? nope, i was just all of a sudden shooting hot stuff from my penis at night, having crazy dreams, and was so ashamed, i could never tell anyone...let alone the doctor, who, was a close family friend, meaning, cousin, and he didn't even check or ask, or think that maybe i was growing up. nope, i was dying. of course!
Depeche Mode
- Everything Counts (Luis Leon Unemployed Bootleg).
As if nothing at all had happened,
he woke up out of a sound sleep,
went to the bathroom, walking past the couch in the living room to pet his dog Buddy on the head, give him a kiss, and even popped into the kitchen to swig down some lemonade from the bottle before
digging through the pantry to get Buddy a midnight treat.
he then proceeded to the bathroom, where he, ritualistically, put down the toilet seat to sit and pee. he was too lazy to stand, and he always ended up peeing all over the seat anyway. this made it easier and more efficient.
when he was done, he stood up and headed back to his bedroom, but by this time, after his little side journey's , he wasn't really that tired. so he did what came more naturally to him, and sat down in front of the computer, turned it on, waited for it to load, and typed in his passwords, and logged into his email.it was only then that he had his first glimpse that something strange seemed to be going on, as he had more than 600 emails unread, some dating back to 3 months prior. as he began opening the first few, he heard a rustling from down the hall. he lifted his head away from the screen and down the hall, where there stood his mother in her powder blue nightgown, she appeared in shock, and for a moment, she looked like she was ready to pass out.
"hi" he said.
"what are you doing?" she asked, voice shaking.
"chcking my email, why?"
"who are you?" she asked, voice high and cracking.
"joey??" he said.
she burst into tears, crying uncontrollably, and then she ran in and hugged him tight. for the next few hours, as the sun broke the horizon announcing a new day,they sat in his bedroom, and she told him the story of his last 3 months, the accident he totaled his car in, the coma he laid in the hospital in for almost a month, the cracked skull, broken ribs, and complete memory loss that was now just a void of time in his life. the doctors didn't think he would even make it, but there he was, and the memory loss, was something he didn't even have to forget. it was never remembered.
photos of Charlie Harding, shot yesterday in my back yard at 810 Grand St, jersey City.
"whiskey sour" photographed one late night after his/her performance at my friends Fran and Jay's home upstate NY
