Charlie Bob’s diner. Drinks for $4. Two undercover cops in a corner. One with shirt that says “POLICE,” not so very undercover. What did they expect to find? Naw naw, they’re just getting food.
Nu-Depth is a skinny body pummeling around the room // I EXIST. I AM NOT A FANTASY// screamed as he pummeled into people. his back to us. hunched over a microphone. chin lift up over shoulder. hit the light. I AM AFRAID OF LOVE. (He is writhing on the floor of Charlie Bob’s diner now.) Microphone cable snaking. // I AM FAMOUS ON THE INSIDE// he screamed. pain or he wants to dance. stepped on pushed on everyone, lovingly. And then, then the best// CRYING ALONE WITH NETFLIX // “I exist. I am crying alone with Netflix!” Two sentences // spirit of the age. But yea let’s dance.
Cole now. Cole on diner table in the florescent sun. Cole gently kicks glowing light fixture then stands, slowly and shakes// whole body shakes. Couple eating stares & stares. The lady at the booth takes out her phone. The lady is in love with Cole’s crop top. The lady is in love with his shaved eyebrows.
Then to close the night :: Night Auditor for the win. So much fun. Beat beat on the tamborine. Sweat and sweetness.
The 13th was also Bela & Abigail's photoshoot with Jim McGuire. Big open space. You can drive the car right in. Hang black and white portraits. His work. His beautiful work. Everywhere. He lives here too. All out. There are no drawers. No bits of paper squirreled away. Just McGuire and camera. Just black boxes of “Good 11x17” and “Good 8x10”. Capturing spirit. Capturing presence. And art and art of it. He would take time and look at a shot. Think think. Slow. Then bursts of shutter, then the scope on the viewfinder. In Mali there’s a photographer who only takes one photo of you. One picture / click / and there you are. Jim McGuire :: a lifetime of capturing beauty in beautiful people… adding your own beauty // keep it. it’s yours now.