This spring, my faith was fleeting as I saw people holding signs and scripture saying God is Love. Patriots proudly professing Jesus Christ would save our souls, if we just believed, and they actually believed it. Who the fuck were they to try to save my sinning soul?
I used to have blind faith. For years I didn’t understand her agnostic point of view. Until last Christmas, when twice we sat on a child size bed a blonde and a brunette splitting a pack of our parent’s brand of cigarettes discussing the history of the world and the history of us.
Once, when she was twelve, she told me in the middle of the night that she didn’t believe in God anymore. She cried, for hours inconsolable. I didn’t know what to say. So I said nothing. I didn’t know then that a decade later Sitting, again, on that same child’s bed that I, too, may not believe.
She was different, literally, in our college town; she’s a Technicolor dream now.
She was different. A silhouette in black and white. Two dimensional, almost in our vibrant world no one seemed to notice her beauty in grayscale. No one paid attention lost in a haze of five cent Jacks
literally, a siren of the screen. A stranger in our scene. In our world, her beauty is out of place in place and time, she didn’t belong
in our college town; her color starts to change their minds turned on to this new appearance, fill her up with alcohol and arrogance. She smiles, with each sip
she’s a Technicolor dream, in flushed fuchsia cheeks in green glassy-eyed lonliness we knew we couldn’t be her although we didn’t really know her, in this place, in our place, we were all the same
now, in full color she stands like the rest of us, jaded in a crowded room waiting for someone to take her home.
Like a good shot of whiskey; Hayley is raw yet sophisticated, simple but refined. It’s an acquired taste that keeps you warm after the first sip, a buzz that keeps you coming back until it becomes your drink of choice. The sound becomes familiar but always satisfies. Still surprising, it provides you a new experience every time you listen. If avant-garde is the 21st century sound, Hayley is top shelf.
Hayley is based out of Williamsport, Pennsylvania showcasing some of its most talented young musicians. Stemming from diverse musical backgrounds, all of Hayley has grown up appreciating and experimenting within many different genres based on their eclectic combination of musical influences, including their previous bands, personal tastes, and family music history.
With families in the business, Hayley learned all aspects of the industry before most musicians learned their first chord progression. Focusing on producing an intimate and exciting live experience, Hayley wants their provocative sound and relationship with the audience to keep their fan base always wanting and expecting more.
Hayley breaks the barriers of current rock music by injecting their bold precision into classic rock’s epic standards. Learning from past experience and continually evolving into the modern precedent, Hayley’s ability to engage and innovate provides them the opportunity to challenge the status quo and surpass all expectations of the current scene, lulling their audience into sweet submission.
Time stopped the day he left. Broken branches, dog dirt, leftover leaves from fall’s last stand against the cold, are all scattered across the unmowed lawn.
I sit in a chair on the patio and smoke a cigarette. Where they would sit and smoke a cigarette. Drink coffee with cream on Sunday mornings.
I remember they were happy on those summer days, we were happy when they let us sleep through church.
Last summer, he moved out his things. Twenty years of memories fit onto one gray flatbed truck. As tears stained hardwood floors, three similar faces stood helpless behind French doors.
Now, He’s traded coffee with my mother For martinis with the secretary— Smoking a cigarette on a patio Staring out at new yard someplace where he doesn’t have to mow the lawn.
Bruce Weber successfully transcended the American paradigm of beauty as the modern propulsor of homoerotic art and photography into mainstream American culture.As an American fashion photographer, paradoxically, Weber prefers to photograph his primarily male models nude or with minimal clothing.Captured from a voyeuristic perspective, his pictures furthermore parallel the images of the venerated nude male carved from stone in ancient Greece.
Previously declared as taboo by critics, Weber’s portraiture photography contemporarily translates the depictions of the idolized male physique once captured in the Hellenistic art period by Greek sculptors.Only now, the medium shifts from stone to film, yet still embodies the essence of human sexuality and sensuality as his primary theme.
According to the Victoria and Albert Museum in the United Kingdom, photographer Bruce Weber was, "one of the most influential members of the fashion community throughout the 1980's"— atitle that he still holds today. The "human factor" displayed in Weber's images is said to show the person and not the clothes, a trait that few fashion photographers can capture on film; a reason why the V&A prominently displays much of Weber's photography.Fashion icons such Karl Lagerfeld, Calvin Klein, and Ralph Lauren have trusted Weber to capture their vision. His versatility as a photographer is apparent through his ability to capture the European styles of Lagerfeld as well as the All-American styles of Klein and Lauren while still evoking a signature look that to the trained eye is distinctively Bruce Weber.
Although best known for his photography, Bruce Weber has been able to transcend one genre of the arts and show his creative genius in many other forms, among his most famous is his books and films. His 2005 book, Blood Sweat and Tears: Or how I stopped worrying and learned to love fashion, as Harper's Bazaar explains it is, "a celebration of fashion in all of its forms."Blood Sweat and Tears highlights Weber's charm and imagination through his photography and journal entries. When interviewed about his book, Weber explained,
"At first I thought strictly about a book of photographs on fashion. As I worked on it, I thought more and more about something my friend the late, great fashion designer Gianni Versace once said, in giving me advice before an assignment, 'Call me des mode, but give me beauty.' And with these inspired words, I wanted to make a record of how I journeyed out into the world and recorded what most people call fashion. These photographs were not just about the shape of clothes, but also how one sees fashion in nature, architecture, and in the human spirit."
Weber also expanded on his famed homoerotic themes in his 2001 limited release book, All-American, which features photographs that are quintessentially the "All- American" stereotype that has been one of Weber's biggest inspirations.
Bruce Weber has become a notable name in independent film making as well.Directing his first movie, Broken Noses, in 1987, Weber proved that his visions could be as aesthetically pleasing on film as they were on paper.In 1988, Bruce Weber displayed his talents for filmmaking again through his documentary Let's Get Lost. New York Magazine hailed the touching yet haunting “homoerotic homage” to his friend, trumpet player Chet Baker, as "relentlessly cool."Capturing as much about Baker's life, as his music was easy for Weber who explained, "I think he made music the way he lived — and as a photographer and a filmmaker, I really appreciated that."
Weber dabbled in film again in 2001, creating Chop Suey, another homage, but this time to all of Weber's favorite things. Using different themes and perspectives, Weber uses the film to discuss one of his most poignant themes to his craft, his obsession with sexuality and the homoerotic subtexts of his photography.In addition to Broken Noses, Let's Get Lost, and Chop Suey, Bruce has written, produced, and directed many other short and feature length films that capture his unique style through a different medium than that which he is most notorious.
Weber’s small town beginning in rural Pennsylvania, ostensibly rendered little foretelling of his soon-to-be big city career, yet his father’s amateur photography offered some foreshadowing.He grew up a bit of a recluse, only to find sanctuary in his mother’s Vogue magazines and his artistic fantasies.In an interview with Tim Adams, from Britain’s The Guardian, Weber explains the tribulations he faced as a child. 'Well, I suppose, for a start, I wasn't very popular, so I had this huge kind of fantasy life, I'd always be looking at Vogue. Sometimes now, when I am photographing young people, and I'm with a whole group of perfect bodies, it seems to me they have no fantasy life at all; perhaps that's the payoff.'
Knowing that he was different from a young age, Weber struggled primarily with his sexuality and artistic impulses, which ironically, became his greatest strengths in professional life.
“Photographing Peter and his friends in the shower, I remember myself at that age. I wanted to be one of those kids padding around without a care in the world, but I couldn't. I'd be swimming all day in the country club and my mom would tell me to shower and dress [there] for dinner but I told her I couldn't. The locker-room would be too crowded at that hour and it seemed to me that every guy in the Midwest would be in the locker-room showering and dressing for his six o'clock date. Instead I'd wash at the washbasin wearing my underwear and a towel. We sometimes photograph the things we can never be.”
Tim Adams also established that he believes that even today Weber has trouble coming to terms with not only his own sexuality, but also the actual concept of sexuality. He explains,
“He seems to want to keep it that way [his sexuality], so we skirt the issue a little. He talks about his father, who was in the furniture business, wishing that his son had photographed more girls; he suggests that his pictures and films depict the complexity of his own identity.”
Weber explains the importance of keeping an open mind about sexuality in his article with Tim Adams.Comparing being a photographer to being a bartender in the East Village, Weber offers this advice, “Just leave yourself open to all kinds of people and listen to their stories, mostly about sex, and come away with a little piece of their lives. I think it is what you do with that information, how you handle it that is what distinguishes you.” He explains, “the things they leave unspoken are the most important things about them.”
Although most of Bruce Weber’s photography sustains itself upon the theme of male sexuality, he refuses to let sexuality in general define his personality or character. Weber states that sex is something we do, not who we are and expresses that America’s perpetuation of the significance of the physical aspect of relationships shifts its true focus away from the emotions of the mind.
Weber’s blatant disregard for the definition of sexuality has become his greatest achievement as an artist. While most people are blinded by gender roles, human sexuality, and the concept of conventional beauty, Weber lets his camera lens determine beauty, an achievement few other photographers have been able to accomplish. His appreciation for the human spirit is present when he speaks of how he unconditionally accepts love. Weber explains,
“I've had a lot of great romances,' he says. 'Men and women, I mean I feel like I can fall in love almost every day feel sorry for people who don't feel that."
Looking up into the bright blue sky, there are no clouds. Just rays of light penetrating my fair skin turning it an alarming shade of scarlet.
After a lengthy pause the wind picks up and the sail becomes taut— standing proudly against the bullying breeze. I hope this wind stays steady.
The wind today only comes in gusts; each one lasting just long enough to tease one edge of the craft out of the water, before instantly plunging back into the darkness.
With careful precision I steer her clear of the buoy. I head out one more half mile. I wonder how much deeper I should travel. I’ve ventured far enough.
I turn her around and find the wind again. As the wind dies down for a moment I can start to feel the sun beams. I point her straight and glide smoothly through the shallow pools. The shells below slow her down and she gracefully stops.
I climb out and look out into the crystal water. I close my eyes and feel the breeze. So many times I have been to this island.
I had collected its shells, swam with its fish, caressed its white powdered sand. I had bathed its sun. I had never done this.
Finally I had sailed by myself, out in a deep blue ocean counting on the wind to bring me home.
if you died id have one wish to have you come back as the tuna in my favorite sushi dish so your protein would grow my hair and when the wind would blow I could feel you there.
I am taking a poetry writing class this semester, and have rediscovered a love of an old hobby, writing poetry. I am adding now, two of my most recent poems... What Ingrid Said, which was a practice in iambic pentameter (at least the ten syllable part of it)... the inspiration came from Ingrid Bergman's quote "A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous." I was wondering if Ingrid Bergman was around today, what kind of girl she would be at age 22, I decided to make her a slut, and that's where What Ingrid Said... came from. I am also including a couple of recent pieces including "Spicy Tuna Roll" and "Lottery". Enjoy!
Katie.
Passionate and complicated, loving yet fiercely independent.
The oldest of three girls, “the mother” amongst her friends.
Lover of indie culture, fashion, and travel.
Who feels strongly about faith, hope, and love.
Who needs to strong coffee, Desiderata, and learning.
Who fears failure, complacency, and heartache.
Who gives her whole heart to all she does.
Who would like to live in London, work in fashion, and change the world.
Resident of wherever life takes her,
McDermott.
