Evil Tower and the Golden Gate (Stock Photo Woman Fantasy 20)

This post weaves in, as in a dream, the symbolism of the Golden Gate Bridge and Sutro Tower (the tv tower which provides San Francisco it’s media). Stock Photo Woman remains an enigma, a creation of the popular culture to serve the popular culture, but she is also a human being who wants to find out the truth. Russell is uncertain of where this all leads, and really just wants to enjoy his fantasy of a relationship with this Goddess of Anonymous Popular Culture. What am I trying to say? Who knows? Just enjoy!! The fireworks on the Bridge were awe-inspiring!!

“That is the source of all our problems, Russell! This evil tower controls us all!” and laughed. Russell just smiled.

This Evil Tower Controls Us All

Dr. Sidney Gottlieb. That was who they needed to see. The book Russell and Stock Photo Woman had been studying, ‘The CIA and it’s dark secrets”, had relied heavily upon Gottlieb for it’s information about Project Bluebird. When Russell googled Sidney Gottlieb he found several but only one seemed to fit the bill, and oddly enough he was located in the Mission district of San Francisco, less than a ten minute walk away. Funny how things turn out.

“You don’t seriously think this guy will tell us any more than we already know from reading that book, do you?” Stock Photo Woman said, unconvincingly. She also hoped that their visit would answer a few questions that had been on both their minds. What was the purpose of Project Bluebird? She couldn’t accept the idea of having been programmed to assassinate someone. Her? The thought was ridiculous. Her memories were murky, it was hard to tell if something actually happened or if she had seen it in a movie, or had simply imagined it. “Maybe. If he realized that we, or you, were victims of that program, he might tell us a great deal.” Russell said. He knew Stock Photo Woman was nervous about the visit. She was more than nervous about anything that delved into her horrible childhood. Although Russell was beginning to wonder how much of those horrible recollections were actually true. “I’m worried about Marietta. Ever since I was shot…” he began. “Maybe she had something to do with that, Russell. But I agree with you, it is uncharacteristic of her to just shut you out, shut us both out, like she has.” Something about the whole affair, his infatuation with Stock Photo Woman, their brief love affair, his meeting Marietta, his getting shot…all of it, it seemed staged. Project Bluebird? Perhaps Sidney Gottlieb could help shed some light on all of this. If his love for Stock Photo Woman was just a preprogrammed response……well, he didn’t want to think about that. Whatever caused him to notice her in the way he did, he certainly loved her now, and nothing could change that. Stock Photo Woman felt a little bit sick to her stomach. It was as if her life were not truly her own, if she couldn’t trust her own mind then. She smiled to herself as she remembered Russell saying she was the more level headed of the two of them. ‘I could be the craziest one of all, after all is said and done,’ she thought.

The sun was shining and the day would have been glorious if it weren’t for the typical San Francisco wind. They had watched the fireworks display celebrating the 75th anniversary of the Golden Gate Bridge a few nights before. It seemed to promise them wonderful times ahead, as if the Bridge were a talisman of hope. It seemed to point to things neither Russell or Stock Photo Woman could articulate. Something incredibly important, that would change everything for the better. The fireworks celebrated more than an anniversary of a structure, it was a celebration of an elusive truth for all mankind, a truth we are all still searching for.

Now here they were, at Dr. Gottlieb’s office. Russell noticed Sutro Tower on the horizon, looking like a sinister beacon sending them messages against their will, messages they couldn’t actually hear, but responded to just the same. Stock Photo Woman noticed Russell staring at the tower and pointed saying, “That is the source of all our problems, Russell! This evil tower controls us all!” and laughed. Russell just smiled.

The office didn’t look like much. Ginger, the receptionist was friendly. It seemed that Sidney didn’t get that many patients. He was a licensed psychotherapist, and let’s face it, psychotherapy seemed outdated in the twenty first century. “Hi” I’m Russell (last name deleted), I believe Dr. Gottlieb is expecting me.” “Hello, Russell, I will tell him that you and your friend are here. You arrived a bit early, so it may be a few minutes.” Ginger assured them.

If you dwell on this, it will maintain it’s hold upon you both, even though you know it is all a lie. Forget Project Bluebird, or like a tar baby, it will ensnare you.

“My father was hired by the CIA, for Project Bluebird. They simply wanted to find out how much the human mind could be molded, manipulated, and used to serve the government’s interest, without the subject being aware of this manipulation. I could use hypnosis to access your programming, but I don’t think it would be of much use” Dr. Gottlieb said. He almost seemed bored, as if he had gone over all of this for many many patients. Everybody thinks they are the unwitting victims of the government, it seems. He was tired of talking about it. “But you see, Dr. Gottlieb, we both need to know if what we recall is real. We need to know if it actually happened.” Stock Photo Woman said with a trace of annoyance. “Of course, but that may not be possible.” he said. “WHAT??” Both Russell and Stock Photo Woman exclaimed in exasperation. Dr. Gottlieb raised his hands in a calming gesture, saying “What is important is how you proceed, how you live your life, now, in the present. Wouldn’t you agree?”  he said, agreeably. Russell spoke up. “How the hell can you hand us that pile of baloney when you know that the whole purpose of Project Bluebird was to bury a command, an instruction deep inside our brain, waiting on some trigger, a signal.” “You have been watching too many movies, my friend. Project Bluebird was just a few hired psychiatrists messing around. They accomplished nothing, no Manchurian candidates, no nothing! A total waste of time! Some people suffered, I am sure, but they were not zombies waiting to commit a murder. You have some crazy ideas…” he protested, but Stock Photo Woman cut him off. “HOW DARE YOU TALK TO US LIKE THIS!!! We came here because we were fucked over by your father, Dr. Gottlieb. You have a responsibility to come clean with us! Don’t tell me that program was a failure. I have been tortured by these memories all my life! Don’t fucking tell me to just forget about it and get on with my life! I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!!” she yelled. Ginger burst into the office, and Stock Photo Woman confronted her. “You think you’re going to do something? Go ahead and try!!” Stock Photo Woman said. Dr. Sidney Gottlieb placed his hand on Ginger’s shoulder. “No need for this, ladies! Please!! I understand your anger, your frustration, but I think it is quite likely, in fact I am almost certain that none of these things that give you nightmares ever occurred. You were given a suggestion, that is all. None of it is true! I wish I could prove this to you, but I cannot. However, my father told me about the audio tapes…” This time Russell cut him off. “HOLD IT! Slow down. Are you saying that we were given suggestions that…?” “I was never raped? All those memories of molestation are just implants? How fucking cruel is that?” Stock Photo Woman said. She could feel the tears beginning. Her father. She had been wrong. He was a victim too. None of it happened!! She had to let her father know this. Perhaps they could repair all of the damage that had been done. “Very cruel. I have no excuses for my father, or for Project Bluebird. That is why I agreed to be interviewed by Peter Hawkins for his book. It is why I talk to you now. But there is more for you to understand…” Both Russell and Stock Photo Woman sat back down. They were exhausted from all of the emotion which had been released, and knew they needed the doctor’s help to deal with this immense deception. “Go ahead, doctor, tell us what we need to know.” Stock Photo Woman said in resignation.

“Just because you know that none of what you thought you knew actually happened isn’t enough, unfortunately. It doesn’t just disappear overnight. You must reprogram yourselves.” Dr. Gottlieb said, patiently. “But how?” Russell said. “By living your life positively. Find a purpose beyond yourselves, and discover your power to direct your own life. Forget the past, it’s done. Don’t go over it, don’t dwell on it, don’t read about it, just let it go. Let it all go! This is very important. If you dwell on this, it will maintain it’s hold upon you both, even though you know it is all a lie. Forget Project Bluebird, or like a tar baby, it will ensnare you. You cannot get to the bottom of it. It isn’t worth it. That project isn’t worth a moment of your attention. Let it go.” Dr. Gottlieb said calmly. Stock Photo Woman wanted to believe the doctor. It felt wonderful to believe that the molestation never occurred, but she had doubts. Why should they trust this guy? How do they know he isn’t a part of this whole thing? He seems awfully eager for us to just forget about the whole thing. I don’t like it. Russell could see the truth of what the doctor said. There was no point in trying to figure out what happened. It was useless, and as he found out, dangerous as well. You could lose track of what matters. I just want to live an ordinary life. “I see what you’re saying, Dr. Gottlieb. I think that is very good advice. Thank you.” Russell said. Stock Photo Woman gave him an intense glance, as if to say ‘We need to talk!!”.

WE NEED TO TALK

 

Thanks to fotolia and andres rodriguez for the photos of my precious (perhaps too precious?) model whose name is still a secret. I had fun with Gimp and Photoshop with the illustrations for this post. I tried to give a bit of the flavor of the creepy content. I like the inclusion of Sutro Tower which some San Franciscans regard as a blight and others love. Also, of course, my other muse, the Golden Gate Bridge, on it’s glorious 75th anniversary. They are sort of opposite poles within San Francisco, in that nobody regards the bridge as a blight. So what is the truth?? Russell is afraid to go further, and wants reality to stay solid for a change, whereas Stock Photo Woman knows that she is the creation of Sutro Tower (the tv tower, therefore the source of popular media, which is the essence of Stock Photo Woman), but she needs to break free and discover the truth. And so the saga continues. I need more photographs of my protagonist!!! I will need to become yet more creative, she may even more of my creation rather than fotolia’s. But Andres Rodriguez’s photography provides the foundation for all that follows. Thanks to those of you that are still following her exploits and to the new followers!! More to come, about once every week or two. Hang in there!

Back Seat

All my thoughts, all my heart, all my ambitious plans, and all my stuff

Must take a back seat

It’s no matter, it’s no matter, it’s no matter what I do

I have to leave it for another time

Waiting, standing, crouching, scanning, I can help, would you like your receipt in the bag?

Are you sure you are ready? Is there anything else that you need?

Thank you for your patience, it won’t be much longer, excuse me while I sneeze

I will be of service, I will show interest, as cheerfully as I can

and all my concerns, my worries, my time to reflect

Are shoved into my pocket with everything else that I gather

It must all take a back seat, put aside, placed on hold

All I can do is do what I do what I do what I do until done

And another day passes and passes and another one still

The back seat is filled

Here I am piddling around wasting time

The day off has arrived

Too much to do and what little time

Save it, save it, save it for all time

For it must take a back seat, and be filed away

 For another day

Now is what’s here, the front seat, control

I push and I try and I scan it again

Until I collapse in exhaustion and pain

But all that I am, and I do I cannot

For it has taken a back seat

And there is nothing up front

Bright Light

From the Lotus Temple Qigong Divination Temple, found on Google Image

There is a bright light burning

In the back of my head

Driving out the dismal

Inviting in the best

There is so much more to living

So much more to love

Than anyone can conceivably embrace

That light

So bright

So blessed

What’s Up With Muni?

This post is for my fellow San Franciscans. The one question all of us have in common here in SF is “What’s up with Muni?” Muni is our primary public transit, and everybody hates it. That is not an exaggeration. Even Muni employees hate Muni, but then most Muni employees hate pretty much everything. Which is much of the problem. I ride Muni to and from work and I am constantly reminded of how rude and hateful most of the Muni drivers are. This happens without provocation. I am perfectly cheerful and board the bus and slip in my two bucks, and the driver treats me like absolute shit. Because I exist. These people have no business dealing with the general public, they should be in the back of some warehouse where they can be as hateful as they want with only a few people having to deal with it. I used to cut these drivers some slack because I have seen some incredibly rude and obnoxious people on Muni buses, and so those drivers have to deal with a lot of nonsense every day which is enough to make anybody cranky. However, the rudeness I have seen lately has no rationale. No one treats them badly, and yet they act as if their patrons are the scum of the earth. They can’t stand to answer questions of any kind, and are especially rude to tourists. Language barriers can be frustrating but the Muni drivers only make a frustrating situation much worse. Many times I have helped people get to where they need to go because the Muni driver couldn’t be bothered. I do want to point out an exception to this however. The driver of the number 28 bus to Daly City, which stops at the Golden Gate Bridge, on Wednesday mornings, is a nice, considerate, friendly, enjoyable driver. I wish I knew her name. She is a rarity however. The other drivers tend to be very aloof, unfriendly, or down right rude and offensive.

Why has this problem persisted? Why can’t Muni get it’s act together? The Muni drivers are among the best paid workers in SF, and yet to listen to them you would think they were poverty stricken. Their culture is one of them against the public and even the company they work for. They are the poor maligned Muni drivers who don’t deserve to be hated by the people of San Francisco. Don’t believe it for a second. What they deserve is better training, and the loss of the job they seem to hate so much when they insist on being rude to their patrons. There is no excuse for the behavior I witness daily. I used to think the people that worked at the post office were bad, or the social workers that deal with the unemployed were rude, but Muni is the absolute worst. What causes some people to get to the point where they despise every human being they encounter? I can understand occasional grumpiness etc. but this is a disease. The Muni virus, and I don’t want to catch it!!!

A Star Is Born

It’s All In How You Use It

Regular readers of my blogs are all aware of my ongoing infatuation with Stock Photo Woman. She caught my attention on a lonely night as I was unemployed and lazily browsing through the stock photos of young hispanic women. All in the interest of enhancing my skills as an interpreter of popular media, you understand. This is the popular landscape at it’s most basic, anonymous people engaged in lives we wish we had. Everybody is smiling, satisfied, and I suspect none of these stock photo people are ever up to their eyeballs in debt.  But she seemed special to me. There was just something about her. Yesterday I discovered a video of this particular stock photo woman on fotolia. I shared it on this blog. Today I discovered some more. I bought a couple of them, so that I could share them without that pesky watermark. You need to be able to see them clearly to see what I describe. It was worth it, because seeing her in motion, and observing her subtle, perhaps even unintentional methods of seduction, you begin to discern this woman’s secrets. It is fascinating.

Now watch closely, view it a few times, and notice how she uses her mouth. She contracts and expands her mouth as she smiles in a way that is calculated to drive a man wild. Marilyn Monroe used this method. Now I don’t know if this a conscious choice on her part, or if she was directed to do this, but she does that thing with her mouth in every video (there are only four). Maybe it’s just a nervous thing, but I love it. It is intentionally or unintentionally quite erotic. The Erotic Twitch. Therein lies the secret of this Stock Photo Woman. It is as though she has all this erotic energy building up inside of her, and she can barely contain it. She has so much energy. It is the first thing I noticed. She is quite a little Lolita, and the more I see of her the more fascinated I become. When I looked at her photos I knew she was a little bundle of sexual energy but I had no idea how much until I saw her work her magic. This woman needs to be seen and heard in a much bigger way than as a Stock Photo Woman. That has been one of my objectives in creating a fantasy based on her. To get her image out there in a non-anonymous, non-commercial way. She oozes charisma, and unless she has this horrible voice which dispels that magical aura, she should be heard as well. As a matter of fact, I don’t really care how she sounds. The rest of her is so wonderful I could adjust to however she sounds. But I suspect she sounds as sexy as she looks. Such a simple little video, intended to promote a business. Nothing special. But she broke a cardinal rule of stock photo land. She stands out. She is not the nameless business woman which looks nice but does not distract. Who the hell cares what she is selling? I want to know about her!!! The other models simply do their job, and don’t light that erotic spark. But my Stock Photo Woman, my unique discovery in the world of no-name model advertising, the billboard wasteland of everyday disposable advertising, is a Star. Hopefully, thanks to me, a Star is Born. Am I wrong? Maybe it’s just me. But the more I discover about this woman, the more I like. She needs to perform, to move us all in every way imaginable. Don’t you think? You know what? She needs an agent. Does she have an agent? I’d be her agent. Heck! I’d be her anything! She has had such an effect upon me that I can no longer use proper English. She has such a fresh, quick, perky energy as revealed in the second video I bought from fotolia, and yet she has such poise as well. I think I can imagine her voice, probably very upbeat and perky, with a subtle sexual undertone, which is pretty much her secret. Innocent and sexy at the same time, which always touches a man’s heart, as well as other areas. 

All of this is in the service of commerce, a vast commercial engine which churns out product and services day and night, when what we actually need is shown in this glimpse of simple eroticism and innocence. We crave a human connection, and I think she has represented to me that kind of intimate connection which makes life worthwhile. This has been the second objective of my Stock Photo Woman series, to repurpose a popular medium to serve a deeper purpose. By that I don’t just mean my own libido, but also the dreams of men everywhere, and also the dreams of women. All women seek a way to connect in a unique way, to stand out from the crowd, to be more than just a commercial product. They want to discover the secret of Stock Photo Woman. I say that women should discover that little kink, that imperfection, some quirk that taps into an erotic wellspring. For Stock Photo Woman it is that smile, and sense of innocence, but now that I have seen her in action, it is the way she works that gorgeous mouth of hers! Yes indeed, a STAR IS BORN.

My thanks to fotolia, it was worth the purchase, and to Andres Rodriguez, who owns the copyright to these videos, and is Stock Photo Woman’s photographer. Did he coach her into giving this subtle yet sexy performance? I wonder. Maybe someday I will get to meet her. I’d settle for just seeing her in full bloom, talking and performing her magic.

Stock Photo Woman Fantasy 19

“Would you like to know what really happened?’ the man said. “Excuse me?” She offered her best smile, hoping it would disarm him, provided he needed disarming. “Relax. I can help you.” the man said.

The Truth? Can I deal with the Truth? Can anyone?

Stock Photo Woman didn’t return Russell’s calls. She just couldn’t deal with all that mind control razz-matazz just now. She needed to do some research of her own. She loaded up her backpack with several books and a notebook. She was determined to find the source material these books had referenced. She took the bus to the Stanford campus. She understood that the library had some information regarding mind control programs. As she approached the entrance, a man in a suit muttered something to her. She turned her head in his direction and he said, “Would you like to know what really happened?” “Excuse me?” She offered her best smile, which had served her well with strangers in the past. She hoped it would disarm him, provided he needed disarming. The man seemed harmless enough. He smiled and said, “Relax. I can help you.”

“So what makes you think I’m tense?” Stock Photo Woman said, smiling even more brightly. “I know who you are, and I can sympathize with your dilemma.” the man said. “Well, then you have me at a considerable disadvantage. Who are you? if you don’t mind my asking. Are you government, a reporter for the Enquirer? Or do you just have a crush on me, like half the men on the planet?” The man spread his arms wide, to show just how harmless he was. No weapons. No worries. “Well, if you promise to hear me out, perhaps I will tell you who I am.” “I make no promises.” she said, still smiling. He could see she enjoyed this little game. “Look. This whole situation is fucked up, if you will pardon my French. Everybody is messin’ with everybody else. Nobody really knows what the fuck is going on.” he began. “In that case, why should I listen to you? How is your angle any better than my boyfriend, excuse me, my friend’s angle? It’s all pretty crazy. I don’t know what to think, but I intend to find out. Whoever you are, understand this. You do not get to harm my boyfr…my friend! Ok?? He has been through hell. He doesn’t need this!!! And who the hell did you say you are?? You are wasting my time, mister!” She walked briskly away, ramming her backpack into his ribcage in the process. “Ugh!!! Miss!! I’m Tom Robbins. I’m a fucking private investigator!!, ok? I was hired by your father.” “Fuck!! Holy Fuck!! My father strikes again! My father has done enough! You tell my father to stay away from my boyfriend and if he tries to pull anything with me, I will cut his balls off with my teeth!!!” Tom couldn’t believe the transformation. She clearly knew how to defend herself, and wasn’t shy about kicking a man’s ass. “Please, you have to believe me! Your father is as much a victim as yourself! Let me lay it all out!” “Two minutes!! That’s it!! You are testing my patience!” Her eyes were burning a hole in Tom Robbins’ forehead.

They sat on a nearby bench and Tom handed Stock Photo Woman some photocopies of Defense Dept. papers. ‘It looked pretty legit, but who the hell knows?’ she thought. Tom spoke pleasantly in a low voice. “Just study these. Look them over, see what you think. Here is my cell phone number.” “I don’t want your stinking cell phone number!” she protested, but her anger had subsided. He wasn’t such a bad guy. He seemed like he genuinely wanted to help.

When Stock Photo Woman returned to her apartment she discovered an email from Russell. She hesitated to open it, imagining what it probably said. “Please, Sophia!! Don’t leave me out in the cold like this! I love you so much!! I’m not crazy! I promise not to talk about anything weird, just call me! Ok?” she said out loud, laughing and saying, “Oh Russell Russell Russell. What I am going to do with you?” But his email just said “Check out this little movie. I didn’t know I could do this on my computer. Maybe it will….well, just watch it ok? Please?? I know you will, though. You won’t be able to keep from it. Still friends??? Russell.” “Of course we are still friends, God what a pain in the ass he is sometimes.” Stock Photo Woman said to herself, as she clicked on the attachment, hoping it didn’t contain a virus. ‘I already have the Russell virus’, she thought glumly.

“Well this is just too weird for words!!! I should show Russell what that private dick gave me. We could go over everything together. It’s wrong to just keep him in the dark. We are in this together. I’ll call him. He will be so thrilled!!” Stock Photo Woman said, smiling to herself. She realized that Russell was her boyfriend after all, in spite of his age. ‘But I think I’ll keep that little fact to myself for now.’ she said to herself.

They arranged to meet at the San Francisco Main Library. When she arrived at 1 pm, Russell was already there, pouring over a book about the CIA. She stood gazing at Russell for a moment and thought about how extraordinary it was that they even knew each other, much less that they were caught up in a clandestine caper involving all kinds of government secrets. ‘Life is so weird, and so wonderful!’ she thought, smiling as she watched the comically skinny, bespectacled, and balding gentleman in the cowboy shirt, taking on the world all by himself. ‘Well, not entirely by himself’ she thought. ‘He’s got me!’ At that moment, Russell looked up from his book. Stock Photo Woman stood there like a vision of paradise, although she was just a stock photo woman. Just a woman, after all. But to Russell, she was an oracle, a sign, a wonder, a messenger from the beyond.

There she stood, just a stock photo woman. Just a woman, after all. But to Russell she was an oracle, a sign, a wonder, a messenger from the beyond.

“Look at this!! It validates all that I have said!” Russell said excitedly. He passed the book about CIA black ops to Stock Photo Woman. She hated to read as someone, especially Russell, watched. It made her so self-conscious that she didn’t really register what she had read for several minutes. ‘Operation Bluebird was considered a success, although it’s efficacy proved to be an embarrassment to the Eisenhower administration. If word ever got out it could create a global controversy. Operation Bluebird dwarfed the best efforts of the North Koreans, Red Chinese, and Soviets. The case of (name withheld), was especially compelling. He was assigned the pseudonym, Carlos Aguilar. He killed with an unsettling calm, with no conscious recollection of his murders. But what had been an asset became a nightmare in the ensuing decades. He indulged in incest, and became a major player in the world of the Mexican drug cartels. His programming had produced a monster. Carlos is still very much alive, and remains a thorn in the side of the organization that created him.’ “Carlos is my father!! Oh my God!! This is it, Russell!! This is verification!! This crap is enough to drive anybody insane. I apologize for slapping you and everything, Russell. You were right, so right, all along!! We can’t trust our own memories, we can’t trust…” She stopped herself. “My gut tells me this is right. But I know what you’re thinking. How can we trust this book? How can we trust anything?” Russell said, holding Stock Photo Woman’s hand. She pressed her hands to her head, her mouth hanging open. Finally she looked into Russell’s one good eye, in that penetrating way only she could, and said, “We can trust each other, baby. That’s what counts!!” Russell wasn’t prepared when Stock Photo Woman stretched across the table and kissed Russell firmly on the lips. It was awkward, but also one of the most wonderful moments in Russell’s otherwise uneventful life.

“Carlos is my father! This is it! This is validation of everything you said. We can’t trust our memories, we can’t trust…..” “But we can trust each other, baby! That’s all that counts!”

Thanks again to Fotolia for the stock photos, and Andres Rodriguez, her photographer, and of course, to the model who shall remain nameless. Check out the previous post where you can see her first video for Fotolia. It isn’t much but it is the first time I have seen her move her body. She is sooo cute, and kind of shy, it seems. I would love to see more. For this post, I used a photo of a government agent (my original intention was to have the guy that encounters Stock Photo Woman be a govt. agent, but I changed that to a private investigator.) and the photo of the SF Public Library is also from Google Image. I used Liquify on the last close up of Stock Photo Woman. It is a different look for her, but I like it. Because the liquify doesn’t always work, I decided to just use her constant smile as a character thing. She smiles so much as a part of her job that it just comes as second nature to her. The story is taking a bit of a strange turn, and I have no idea what happens next. Which is how I like it. Thanks for your continued interest in this series. I enjoy writing it. Oh! and of course this is the first time I appear in a video. Seeing Stock Photo Woman actually move in her first video inspired me to show you how I move and sound. I’m sort of a cross between Woody Allen and Brent Spiner (the actor who played ‘Data’ on Star Trek Next Gen.) I hope you were entertained.

Stock Photo Woman in her first video!!

Ok so she isn’t talking, but this tiny little video from fotolia reveals a young woman with quick, athletic energy and a touch of shyness. I love how she nervously adjusts her smile. Is this too much? too little? I never had to do a video before! I admit this isn’t much, but for me it is a bit of a thrill. Given that I have devoted a fantasy to her since February, it interests me to see this model move, and I still need to hear her voice. Video reveals so much more than a still photograph. With still photography you can keep on trying till you get it right. With video, that is much harder to do, because there are so many more variables that come into play. Every little twitch reveals something about the personality. Once again, I think what endears me to this woman is her imperfection. She isn’t the perfect model by any means, which is why I like her. I love that touch of nervousness revealed in how she smiles. A still photograph could never reveal that. Gee, I guess I’m falling in love all over again, and that is definitely weird. This smacks of stalking, I know. But I realize this is a woman I can never hope to meet, never mind know. Actually I don’t realize any such thing, but I felt like I needed to say that. This infatuation makes absolutely no sense, but then, what infatuation does?? Love. No sense to it. Can’t take it to the bank, can’t find it in the refrigerator late at night. No. Love is an enigma. Stock Photo Woman serves as a symbol for me. For something lost. For something real in a world devoted to the unreal. She is just a young woman using her beauty to make a living for herself. But she is so much more! So, the infatuation deepens, but instead of nursing some sick obsession I am using my fascination with this young woman to dig deeply into my psyche and discover some truths that everyone can relate to. At least this is my justification for this blogger’s crush. But isn’t she cute? Isn’t she just peachy?

Oh…and fotolia? Next time give her something to say!

Early Morning Epiphany

So much I’d like to do

But here I sit

Waiting

I wouldn’t say I’m dissatisfied

With my work or home sweet home

It’s just that

My life is passing

And these days I shall never have again

And so I tell myself

Don’t pine for the present

Don’t weep for me

I plan to hug each moment

Whatever it may be

Empty or full of me

No time to write more than this

My early morning epiphany

CraCKing Up

I am in a strange place tonight. It is getting late and that is when my thoughts are often not my own. Whose then? A self I have often disowned, been uncomfortable with and lies tucked away with my old photographs, journals, and acid flashbacks. Something is amiss, or perhaps, I was amiss before and now I am on the correct course. It feels as though I am on a double track, my actual life and imaginary lives overlap in a precarious manner. I need an outlet desperately, any outlet will do. There is another world which embraces this one, it comforts us as we stand in the fierce wind waiting for the bus. It carries me away to beautiful lands and to dark twisted sweat filled nightmares each night. Another life, another self. Here I am young, here I am female, or not even human. Here I am very very old, living alone in the midst of a vast desert of my own making. Here I am a celebrity, with many many people vying for my attention. I have many heavy responsibilities, and I can’t even remember my own name. SUch as it Is, I am CraCKing Up. It isn’t as much fun as I expected. All the usual habits fall away in the face of the abyss. Each day is a NEW DAY. When you are crazy, it is all new to you.

Now don’t get worried, I am not truly crazy, I am just feeling a bit dislocated. Like I said, I live many lives at the same time, and occasionally my focus wavers, and it is hard to sort things out. When the contents of your imagination outweigh all else it is time to stop and take an inventory. Do I have all my marbles? I do. I am exaggerating to make a point. We are all crazy to a degree. We are multitasking many many lives at once. We have a rich untapped tapestry which continues to surprise us, and provide us with source material.

But wait.

But wait.

This was not meant to reassure.

The world has become unhinged. Just read the news.

We are all cracking up by degrees. Sometimes I feel I have too much inside. I cannot contain it in a story.

It bleeds into my body, and possesses my mind with a noisy cacophony of meaningfulness, an urgent meaningfulness to which I must attend.

Cracking up.

Living a life for which I am no longer responsible, has it’s appeal.

Cracking up

Being taken care of for the rest of life, has it’s appeal.

But the nut house has it’s terrors.

And I have lived with my strange musings,

and will foolishly continue my flirtation with insanity

For that is the nature of the game

So much is going on, and I can only write about a small piece of it.

Still writing, though

In that, I find comfort.

Stock Photo Goddess Fantasy (#18 of the series)

Russell asked Stock Photo Woman if she could receive interstellar signals on her massive headphones.

Too Much Clarity, Not Enough Truth

Russell’s mind had been a blur since his strange encounter with Stock Photo Woman’s father. Nothing made sense anymore except her. She was just a pretty face among thousands and yet her face held something else. A certain quality impossible to define. It was the only thing certain. The only thing he felt he could count on. Even though the day was windy and chilly, they agreed to meet at Fisherman’s Wharf, on Pier 39 where the sea lions hang out. He could see everything so clearly with his corrected vision, but he didn’t want to. He could see that Stock Photo Woman seemed a bit tired, he could perceive every imperfection within her complexion. He didn’t want to. She smiled her usual smile, so practiced in it’s perfection that she didn’t need to give it a second thought. It was just there, regardless. Her trademark. Russell chose to retreat within his inner vision where events lost their detail and clarity, taking on the quality of a watercolor. This was a tapestry of feeling rather than precision, more truthful than realistic. He had had too much information lately, turning his whole world topsy turvy, and so he would now choose his own truth, select his own information, and see where that might lead.

“You look so strange without your glasses, Russell!” she exclaimed. “Burr!!! It’s chilly out here. So this was your idea of a good time?” she joked. Russell noticed her huge headphones dangling about her neck. It was so uncool, like an artifact from the 1970′s. “So…..do you use those enormous headphones to receive interstellar signals of some sort?” he asked. “Yep! This is how I get my alien orders!” Stock Photo Woman thought Russell seemed odd, kind of crazy even. It bothered her. What did he want to talk about? Did his surgery and new improved vision affect his mind as well? “No really, what’s with the headphones?” Russell asked. “I just like how they sound. No big deal. So they aren’t the latest style, I don’t care if I look like a dork.” she sighed, bringing her hand to her forehead, “It is so hard being beautiful, Russell. Sometimes I long for the ordinary. I am really just a geek inside.” she said, smiling goofily. Russell realized he didn’t really know this woman, but he wanted to. Stock Photo Woman realized that Russell was hiding something from her. She wasn’t certain what, but whatever it was it weighed heavily on him.

Stock Photo Woman touched Russell on the arm and asked, “Honey, what’s wrong?” Russell wanted so much to be close to her just now, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t certain of anything. Even her. Not the real her. She seemed so real on this wind swept overcast afternoon. The sea lions seemed to be barking out warnings. “Nothing is as it seems! Danger! Danger!” It was crazy he knew. He couldn’t hold on to his rosy perspective any longer. The shiny, perky, perfectly poised Stock Photo Woman wasn’t here. Instead here stood a dark eyed lioness of a woman, a towel around her neck, ready to do whatever she had to do. Deadly. Dangerous. What was he doing here? Russell had been moving his lips, and he seemed to be gazing at a something only he could see. Stock Photo Woman panicked. “HONEY!!! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHERE ARE YOU???”

Russell felt Stock Photo Woman’s grip upon his arms. What was happening? Why is she hurting me? Her eyes held so much fear, pain, and anger. What had he done? He couldn’t remember. He felt cold. He wanted to be back home. Whatever was happening, he didn’t like it. Stock Photo Woman slapped him. Russell stepped away, staring wide eyed at his assailant. He felt like a child that had misbehaved. Events were spiraling out of control and he couldn’t find his comfortable old self. He couldn’t find his voice. He was terrified. “I talked to your father. He said so many horrible things. We are all victims, condemned to living tiny little meaningless lives signifying nothing. Only our program matters. Everything we know, and feel, it’s gone! I can’t retrieve it. I can’t bring it back!!!” He began to cry.

“Russell, you have to listen to me!! I am all you have! I love you, and please believe me when I say you are having a breakdown. I was afraid of this. My father….I don’t know, he may be crazy, Russell, truly crazy!! But I am going to take care of you, baby. Don’t you worry! Whatever my father did to you, it can be undone. Please trust me Russell!! I love you so much. Please let me help you!

It was hard to focus on what his love was saying. Had he died? She seemed to be more than human, like a dark beautiful force of nature. He felt so cold. Wasn’t that how the dead felt? He remembered the contorted, tortured face of that man, there had been naked women, he was so intent upon explaining….just like her just now. Except he had been the Devil, full of lies within lies wrapped inside an enigma. Telling him it was all wrong, a poorly written play while something else played out….horribly. He could feel Stock Photo Woman’s hot breath upon his face. She seemed to be crying. Suddenly, the world appeared to lose it’s crazy spin, and he could see the water of the Bay and the sea lions. Pier 39. Stock Photo Woman was speaking lowly, intently, like a God. “Russell, you have to listen to me!! I am all you have! I love you, and please believe me when I say you are having a breakdown. I was afraid of this. My father….I don’t know, he may be crazy, Russell, truly crazy!! But I am going to take care of you, baby. Don’t you worry! Whatever my father did to you, it can be undone. Please trust me Russell!! I love you so much. Please let me help you!

A day later.

Still alive.

The drug helped him sleep.

Sleep

She was there

The only real

He was as clueless as a newborn baby

And felt as if he had endured a thousand years of torture

Perhaps he had.

What could any of this possibly mean? But his mind had lost it’s laser-like penetration. He could only float.

He imagined she was gazing at him still, with that divine countenance, from outside his window just now.

Such a vivid imagination, Russell thought. That hasn’t changed.

He sat and puzzled it over. He had cracked up. It embarrassed him to have to admit it.

He tried not to think too much about it, after all, that had been the problem.

He tried not to think too hard, after all ,that had been the problem.

If only he could go back to the beginning, before all this. She had been so beautiful, and he had wanted her so badly. Not like now, not like it has all become. Too much, much too much. She had seemed to be his guardian angel, his own special Stock Photo Girl, unlike any other. But he had been crazy. Hadn’t he? He could sense her love even in the depths of his despair.

He could sense her love even in the depth of his despair.

I am in debt to fotolia for the Stock Photo Woman photos, the photographer is Andres Rodriguez, and the model is still nameless. I enjoyed working with various filters for this episode. This was an episode which kind of sums up the theme of the whole series. Russell had brought this powerful spirit into his life, and then was shaken by the reality of this woman and her family. Her father had shaken Russell’s faith in himself and in Stock Photo Woman, but now she is the only person, perhaps, who can save him. Is Russell crazy? or is Stock Photo Woman protecting him from the horrible truth. Is it all a lie? Russell is at his wit’s end, still not knowing what to think, and still haunted by this icon, this universal stock photo woman which haunts all our dreams. This sort of continues the surreal quality of the earlier post.