He passed away a couple months ago, to no one's surprise and everyone's loss. I was sending my buddy, Abraham Lohan, pics tonight and yesterday, so I had them at the ready here. It was his cat and he and his wife, Kat, loved him much. I had shot a few frames while drinking wine in their kitchen. It is Kat you can see sitting in the bokeh below.
So, if you've ever tried to be a manual film photographer while drinking red wine or other kinds... you get poor at a faster rate, but the missed shots and the evidence of substandard shooting technique can still trickle in for years.
I'm not drinking right now, so I am writing about it from the authority of emotional opinion. I can chuckle at my previous string of sillinesses. How few people ever learn to take life as cheerfully as I. How few could possibly stand it. At long last, I am an affront to ambition.
If one can not lift some magic from the black cat that has cut across your path then what were all those incantations, and all of that screaming, ever for?
I'm not sure what that sentence means. It has no relation to anything in my life, currently. Perhaps it is just some of the nonsense I regularly permit myself to write when drinking, of which I was thinking. It was a contact sentence.
These images too are, in a sense, nudes with black mask.