Planetary porn…

My heart makes a beat and my knees skip the beat……..! Download the full resolution image, enlarge it within the browser window or in photoshop HERE…and stare at it… What would those rings sound like as an LP, what would it be like to float in Saturn’s atmosphere, underneath the shadows of those rings. Land your ship on an icy ring and spin round Saturn for one hell of a galactic revolution…. I stare at Saturn and the world’s alright with me….. Like my son Raphaël says: “Papa, I don’t ever want to die”…. Raphaël, this is as close as living forever as we’ll ever get….!

Appointed duty…

Last Thursday’s shoot. We piled into a couple cars and drove to within reach of Sacramento, CA… and shot two more personal pieces. From left to right: Shawnrey Notto, Gabriel Laude(holding the M4), Yours truly “Dear leader”, and the Ryan Arthurs….! Results will be available this coming Tuesday the 25th of August and will be posted on “Dear Leader” should said works be worthy of any such subsequent entries…. Thanks to all, especially Ryan and Shawnrey. Polaroid by Raphael Laude.

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Polaroid by Raphael Laude.

Left to Right: Raphael Laude(holding the M4), Shawnrey Notto, Gabriel laude and the Ryan Arthurs.
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Polaroid by Olivier Laude.

Raphaël and Gabriel in San Blas.

These shots were taken in San Blas, Panama. Raphael who is now 12 years old, was ten at the time and gabriel, the blond one was 7. The New York Times travel section had a piece on the San Blas archipelago recently which hopefully will not ruin the place. If you are interested here are a few more shots of us boys in San Blas, in April 2006(the man in the yellow shirt is an Italian friend we made, not yours truly).

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Il Papa Fieri….

A note left by my 9 year old Gabriel, written in English but in beautiful handwritten French cursive:

“Papa, I should like for you to download these movies to my iPod “:

1- Team America,
2- In iTunes, in the section “Purchased” there will be a movie called: “South Park Bigger, longer and uncut…”
3- In iTunes, in the section “Purchased” there will be a movie called: “Winter X Games XI”

Glad to be of service, my son, and while I am at it, shall get you a quill, a feather, as of a goose, formed into a pen for writing…. for your tenth birthday.

“El Papa Peludo….”

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I have not yet posted an image of Raphaël so here he is. Since this is Thanksgiving, and eventhough, I have never been a big fan of this manufactured holiday, I have to say that I am thankful for the endless amusement and merriment my boys bring to my life. Quite the little “Terrance and Philip”, those two are. This image of Raphaël was taken last spring during a rare moment of introspection. I must have threatened him with grave consequences for him to sit still and not goof off for less than a micro-second.

I am eternally thankful that my boys are healthy, handsome, funny and intelligent. If you are reading this blog and have children of your own, I wish you all the same and many happy returns; but as Calamity Jane used to say: The adults can “go fuck their’selves”.

What I fucking do all day when I am not earning my man…..

olivier(read previous entry), I pop a couple Vicodins to shave that snake; but fear not, the rest of him keeps on kicking throughout the day, to remind me its not quite done with me. Afterall, who wants to run around like a fucking caged monkey, thinking about nothing else but how much freaking nerve pain a primate can endure in a day. Thank you opiates, and yes I have a prescription, and no, you can’t have it, and no, I am not fiended; I have actually reduced and never increased the dosage. As previously explained, I am very slowly getting better, lots of steroids and Botox injected, twice weekly physical therapies; and oh yes, once again, thank you opiates; without you I would have been freaking desperate . Surviving the last year without these beauties would have been far too manly for my taste.

Anyway, around 8:40, I slowly walk back to the XC seventies and pop in some African CDs, I am a big fan here, let’s say 30 years; turn on the ignition and peel off like the French born that I is.
On the way home I curse California drivin’; by far the worst goddamn cretins on Gore’s not so green earth; ain’t it?
Worthless bunch of inattentive, self righteous, passive-digressive, incompetent clueless douches. Give me New York City or Paris any day, that’s my kind of tootin’ anyway; where men drive like clown monkeys and women bray like camel riding donkeys . If ever I have guests, I try to tone it down but “es-startlement happens” ! (new word here, means: Spanglish to describe the startling processes).

Not to spare you the tedium, I take Belvedere or Cole to 17th and Market and then down the hill to the Castro, that’s where I live with my girl, and the progenated. Up Douglass and up up and away.
You see, I am a divorcé, so off I go to live communally. Clicker in hand I open the brand new garage door and ram the cardboard flotsam to the back of these here garages. Step out of the car, disrecollected, close the roll ups and walk up, up and away. Back down to get recollected and back up again’.
Open the door leading into the deck, trip over the Bar-B-Qued remains and drop the keys that opens the kitchen gates. Wheel the dishwasher back in place and to the home offices; it’s more feminine that way. Tap the keyboard and wake up the CPAs, “Good day”! To show cheer and show my good graces by animating objects, is an important part of my day to day.

I check email one more time and snurf the dailies: the Jackanory, aphotoeditor, Heading East, 2point8; these are all people I either know, or we communicate; sometimes every day. I like them, and their energy and efforts are always greatly appreciated. When I feel less pressed, like today, I roam the interneted, and less well known tottering blog-aided…. I comment, but shouldn’t, too much time away from these bitches! Thankfully I can finger type with great rapidity.

If I am feeling friskay, I’ll write my own entry, usually consisting of what this blog generally disseminates with great identity, which it’s supposed to portray, or a least try to communicate, what a slightly older, effeminate esthete, British and patrician academic might think. Well crafted, defined, opinionated, ideated; ideas, tidbits, wisdoms and recollections collected while traveling with the Queen and her majesty’s secret services; all the while, throwing in, a few contemporary rabbits and expletives, to appear younger than I might actually turn out to bees. I have tried to have that come across with greater clarity and voice-hover all my entreaties, but that was way too time consuming, I had to put that one to sleep. Enough for right now, I have actual work to do, but fear not, more’s a coming your way…..

It’s Gabriel’s birthday.

Today is Gabriel’s birthday. In the process, a loot of major league proportion was duly acquired. An avid soccer fan and its associated fashions he was showered with some of his favorite team jerseys, as well as a Key-tar courtesy of Koichi. I made Shabu-Shabu, Korean fish fry and spicy tofu treats, washed down with ice cold water and sparkly cup cakes for dessert, decorated with nine candles.

In preparation for these festivities Raphael and I went shopping in Japantown, ate candy and sat in massage chairs to kill some precious time. After this birthday feast, we retreated to the parlor and watched DVDs to further hone in our already encyclopedic knowledge of FIFA’s history. Gabriel fell asleep a happy man, clutching his size four Chelsea ball; woke up at six for a hug and promptly resumed watching the world cup greatest’ hits. Happy Birthday Gaby…..!

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