Religion - a submission for WHCreation

We are all born into a world in which someone else knows best and that if we follow their rules things work out, and if we don't bad stuff happens - that's what parenting is all about.

The notion of nobody making the rules but myself as long as I bare the consequences for my action as well as the notion to total chaos and the fact the world doesn't have morality built into it, and the fact that things might get really really bad and there's no one out there to always save me - is very scary.

I think that most people I know who were drawn to religion were, in fact, trying to reach this feeling of safety they had when they were children and parents knew best, and the world had a very define order and rules, which if you just stuck to most of the time, you wouldn't get into any type of serious trouble.

Almost every time when secular people talk about religious people, they mention as an after thought, that it's not all religious people and that some of them are in it for the right reason. That might be true, though personally, I have yet to meet a person who went into religion out of love of god, rather then out of fear from life (or fear of death).

Karin + Raoul interview

Karin + Raoul: Ned and Aya Photography from Creative Control on Vimeo.

how cool is this?!

Watercolor

The way one shade of  blue

Covers another.

The way the forgin language

Conversations masks one another

In a cafe, the white noise

Blending into the white noise

That's alive but unified, like

A wallpaper of sound.

The way my thought all try

To float into the surface at the same time -

Dead bodies floating in a lake,

And I'm drowning in emotions,

Can't tell my face from the others.

Tears

All the tears

I didn't shad

Are coming back to haunt me.

I find them

At the bottom of coffee cups

And empty beer bottles,

In fleeting colors and ending of books.

In the quite between songs

And in the mirror.

All my history is written on my face.

I wish I didn't have to read it

Each and every line,

Each and every morning.

I wish I could look forward, the

Way I look back,

And see more lines of laughter

Then lines of sadness and anger.

Phone

Forgot my phone at

Home today

Now I feel disconnected.

Hate this isolation, and even more,

Hate to admit my dependence

Of the thing.

Writing on a piece of paper

Instead of typing.

Ha! What is the use of sadness

if you can't share it with

others.

New Camera

Never thought that getting a 5D would be the depressing option for anything, but there it is. We've been having a lot of technical problems with Ned's Hasselblad for the past few months and it's been getting really annoying and really expensive to fix, and so, after talking about little else for the past couple of weeks, we decided to replace it with a 5D. It's a very logical choice and it makes sense, and yet, Ned's feeling really sad about loosing the other camera's charm, style, and some of the style of it.

I'm pretty sure that once we start shooting, we'll be happy with this choice, though now the new camera feels like an uninvited stranger.

Coloring book Giveaway

This blog seem to take a turn into random thoughts, dreams and feelings, and I feel like I haven't wrote anything coherent here in ages...

Anyway, here is a proof that I'm still sane and that I'm doing other stuff aside of think, dream and feel. I've been working on a small coloring book, which is something I've been wanting to do for a while. Now that it's done I decided to raffle one of those to everyone who reads my blog.

So if you want to win this lovely package of a coloring book and 5 cool color Crayola crayons, please visit my store and tell me what's your favorite thing in there.

Also, if you buy anything from my store, you automatically win one of those little books.

I'm going to raffle the book on April 6th.

Enjoy!

Just like suicide

Today I learned that a man I never met and only heard about a few times killed himself last May. He was married to a woman I know, they got married for green card and couldn't decide if they want to be a real couple or not. I haven't seen her in a couple of years, then, run into her in the street and she told us about his death.

It's strange how suicide makes me feel instantly connected to someone, even though I had no emotions toward him when he was alive.

A dream

I was supposed to go to an art exhibition opening. I think some of it was of photos I took in an earlier part of the dream, photos of boats shot through a window and the, the same boats shot from the outside, right by the water.

I was supposed to meet a woman there, which was both a work connection and an old friend or an old lover.

I was getting dressed to go. I had the whole outfit in my mind, something very faminin with a lot of layers and lace and fluffy angora in light pink. But I just couldn't wear it right. I kept wearing the top layers first, or wear the whole thing then discovered I forgot to take off the bra and having to start over. I wore parts of the outfit in a way that made it impossible to move, and I got trapped in cloths.

I got more and more nervous about being late, eventually, I called the woman and it turned out, she already left. The event was over and I missed the show.

Subtarenian

That was the word of the week for illustration friday. Usually I do big alaborate pieces for that, but this time, I just went with a morning doodle.

Subtarenian

That was the word of the week for illustration friday. Usually I do big alaborate pieces for that, but this time, I just went with a morning doodle.

Fragments

I feel like I haven't written a thing in weeks, barely even answering e-mails. They pile up in my mailbox, I'm watching the numbers go up and helpless to do anything about it.

All my drawings this week had been about mirrors, about reflection. 2 sides of the same coin, which are the same, and not the same. I have this feeling of a thinning universe, of multiple incarnation of myself in a million parallel worlds. Me that made different choices and became different people. I can hear their echos in my ears when I speak. I feel like if I just reach out a little farther, I'll be able to touch their hands. Like reaching to the moon and stars in a clear night, feeling as if they are just within reach.

A pregnant women in a forest green dress reading a book with a big moth on the cover, over two sunny side up eggs.

Plastic vessels with yellow liquid, plastic vessels with brown liquid.

Cold light over a patchwork blanket.

Choking laughter.

All I can see today are fragments.

trying to fix a problem

I wish I was brave

We were having breakfast at EGG this morning, having coffee and eating on a shared 4 people table. There were 2 women eating and talking next to us, one very younge and slander that did most of the talking and had a Europian accent I couldn't place. The other, older, was writing things on a piece of paper.

Ned and I were talking about all the things we need to take care of this week. Making prints for the Pool art fair this weekend, shopping for dishes for a class I'm teaching next week, editing photos from Fashion week, setting up a beauty shoot.

All this time I was listening to the women conversation. The young one was a model, in town for fashion week, and the older was a booker or an agent.

It almost sounded like one conversation, we were talking about finding a model, they were taking about finding jobs for a model. I really wanted to just say "hay, lets put two and two together" to intreduce myself, pass some business card and maybe, shoot that girl next week.

But I didn't, the words just couldn't come out. I felt so ugly and unimportant and worthless. Damn. I wish I did talk. I feel like in one of those dreams in which I want to scream and nothing comes out.