A Tell All On NYMPHOTO!

What made me do it?

Check out a slice of my childhood memories, not to mention, the early influences of photography which led me down the road to a life of a destitution.

It's all up on NYMPHOTO,
a place where the other photo gender (yep, we are still around dammit') has the place to show off her work and talk about it! The list of fabulous and talented photographers whom have talked about their work is daunting...and personally, I find them really inspiring and hopeful as a W-O-M-Y-N!

Support the women who support wayward PhotoWomen such as myself.

Thanks, to the women of NYMPHOTO for giving me the space to speak!

I-Gavel Auction Ending in 23 Hours

Hi Brothers and Sisters:

The Daniel Cooney Gallery with the I-Gavel Auction will end approximately in 23 hours. So, fly like the dickens and shop for cheap savings on beautiful work! And of course, look at my photograph of "Joshua and His Brother" which is still very reasonable.

Just a sweet reminder.

Farewell Dr. Sonner

X-Ray from abdominal view of my dog Moishe's, heart.

X-Ray View of Moishe's Heart from lateral Position.
Notice light white areas showing possible first signs of Mitral Valve Disease.

January 14, 2009 @ 7:16 PM

Dear Dr. Sonner:

I decided not to come and see you anymore. I can't afford to see you because I no longer have enough money to pay for health insurance with Oxford. Therefore, I can’t pay out of pocket for once a month visits with you. We had spoken about this on several occasions. Despite, my fears of economic destitution, you have not been willing to change your policy, allowing me to come less frequently. In the past, I worked with doctors whom only expected me make visits 4 times a year, in order to check the status of my condition or fiddle with my medications. I would see the psychiatrist more often should my depression become less manageable.

Presently, I would self-diagnose my condition as a clinical depression with the occasional massive mood shifts towards mania. I am certainly not in remission, and definitely, beyond the state of my usual Dysthymia.

I have not called you or in your case, e-mailed you, about my emotional upheaval because I learned from the past that it was absolutely pointless. I have become accustomed to sitting in your waiting room many times over the last couple of years, in a depressive state, but made a clear decision before entering your office that I would not share this information with you. There were times that I feigned happiness in your presence when I could do nothing more than lay on my sofa and cry for days.

After three years plus, you never changed my medications in order to find a way to ease me from my emotional pain. The best you did was up my Lamictal or increase my Nardil by 15 mg. This is the same recipe of medications, plus the others, that Dr. Silverstein had prescribed me when I left his care years ago. What was the point of telling you how I felt or filling out those redundant Xerox sheets with my improvement or my decline, when I knew I would walk out the door with the same ol’ prescriptions? In other words, my old feelings of helplessness increased and I started to believe once again that no doctor could help me, let alone you. Perhaps, I am drug resistant.

I don't believe in my heart that everything has been exhausted...I need to work with a sensitive and creative physician. Someone who can work in tandem with my therapist.

There were days, I walked into your office, considering how quickly, I could get out of your office with the prescriptions in hand. I would put a smile on my face, bite down on anger, pick up the recipes and get out the door as quickly as I could. Perhaps, to you, my depression/anxiety or as you had yourself diagnosed me, on my first intake, “Bi-Polar 2 Disorder” seemed under control. In fact, I was exhausted and resigned to feigning my emotions in your presence.

I have never had to talk with any doctor through e-mails, nor has my therapist. Natasha whom also agrees that it is bizarre and unprofessional you did not want to communicate with her on the phone. It's frankly impersonal and on a fundamental level, I don't feel like you care about me. As you know I have a long history of terrible neglect. Yes, it would have been reaffirming if you could have simply picked up the phone over the last months when I did not make any appointments.

I created a lie and told you I was leaving the country for France and never mentioned a word about picking up my prescriptions prior to this fantasy trip. Instead of hearing directly from you, I began to find messages on my voice mail from one of your revolving intern secretaries. Maybe at least, a detached e-mail from you, would have made me feel like my presence and my health mattered.

I am now in a daily struggle and yet, I refuse to come back to you. This is not a personal problem with you, but completely professional. I have decided to see one of Dr. Silverstein’s colleagues who has made himself available when I need him. Again, as you know, I no longer have insurance, and having a doctor available when I need him or expects only quarterly visits is a relief to my financial worries.

Juliana

Lucky on Lens Culture

Writing in my journal across the street from Pere Lachaise.

Note consistent state of melancholia...
Not to mention custom made scratches on my negs from lame lab out in Los Angeles.

I am very pleased to announce that this week I am featured on Jim Casper's, Lens Culture. The international photo magazine is running a slide show of my work from the Rockaways.

Last year, I met Jim at an ongoing slide show called Food for Your Eyes, run by the fabulous and exotic, Nathalie Belayche in a studio near Pere Lachaise.

Nathalie mixes a variety show of photographers from around the world. She also serves a platter of grapes and cheese and bottles of wine fit to fill any photophile. Not to mention, she is class A curator and agent.

That evening, I slipped Jim a DVD of my "Last Stop: Rockaway Park" while the lights were down. I suggest you do the same thing, in moments, when you find yourself in the dark in the presence of curators, photo critics, and all of them. I must thank Mary Virginia Swanson for packaging tips on putting together a fantastic little self-promotion.

Ironically, at the end of my trip, I rented a place right across the street from the cemetery walls of Pere Lachaise. For two weeks, a bobble head balloon with an unrecognizable face, remained inflated and entangled in a tree inside the boundaries of this famous last retreat. "He," I believe, was masculine. He watched me move about aimlessly, from room to room, mocking me for days through rainy Parisian windows, until one day we became two lonely companions of the heart.

Bogart and Snickers

"Phil on Christmas Morning, 2008"

I was half-asleep on Christmas Eve in a studio out in Rockaway Park . Phil came in the door. I looked at the digital alarm clock, 4:15 AM. "Here, Darling". He threw an extra long Snickers on the bed next to me as if he was throwing a bundle of hard cash, after a grueling night shift. He brought me home a Snickers bar every night since I had arrived two days ago.

"Where were you?" We could have been a married couple after sharing a one room studio apartment for only a couple of days.

"Out at the bar," he said.

His eyes always look downward, making the rare eye contact. He scanned the floor. With a massive hand engulfing his skull, he began to scratch and swoop his hair back, the same way only men with short hair cuts are privy to do in this world. The same soulful gesture you might imagine Marlon Brandon doing in a moment of confusion or defeat in a movie from the fifties.

"Which bar?". I already felt like I had missed out on something fun.

"Kerry Hill." "I ran into Trish and we ended up talking for a bit."

I always wondered how people can spend hours in a bar talking to the same people all the time without some purpose. My life has been bound to purpose, reason and without both, socializing can seem like falling into a busted fishnet. I envied Phil and everyone else who could go out and banter the nights away, while I was white knuckling scores of "to do" lists on Christmas Eve.

I tore into the Snickers with my teeth and before he could even turn around to look at me from the kitchenette against the opposite wall, I had gobbled it down. I felt the caramel and chocolate leftovers stuck to my teeth. I would wait for the early morning sun, get up to brush my teeth in the shared bathroom, in between, his apartment and his neighbors.

After a couple of nights, camping out here, shooting in the day and watching Turner Classics while convalescing late evenings and mornings, I felt at home here. I almost always feel more at home in other people's homes than in my own, especially, when they are not at home.

Dear Phil,

Thanks for letting me spend the night.

Thanks for buying me diet cokes and snicker bars.

Thanks for making me a beautiful eggs over medium sandwich on wheat toast.

And hours of Bogart to watch on two separate televisions facing one another on opposing sides of your studio.

And most of all a hide-out during the holidays.

With affection,
Juliana

I Gavel Online Auction with Daniel Cooney Gallery

"Joshua and His Brother"

One of my photographs entitled "Joshua and His Brother" is part of the I Gavel Online Auction represented by the Daniel Cooney Gallery. The image is up for grabs at the starting bid of $200. for the next 17 days.

I took this image while in the south of Mexico in 2006. Joshua the older son comes from a family of 6 children and two parents. The mother was once a Mennonite who had abandoned the community . Her second husband and father to 4 of the children is a Mexican fisherman. They live in a crowded 3 room shack on stilts, sharing bedrooms.

I plan to continue this project in April of this year, living for one month with one family in a Mennonite farm community.

"Last Stop: Rockaway Park" Published in View Magazine

"Charlie Cowboy"

"Isabelle's Room" and "Butchie Under Covers"

I am very pleased and honored to announce my work on the Rockaways is on the cover of

View Magazine out of Belgium. Not only was I blessed to be on the cover, but they published 9 spreads of my work!

The design is inspiring and impeccable. The editor in chief, Stephan de Broyer and his team made a strong edit of the work, as well as creating a flawless design. So much so, that I begin to see my work in a different and new light.

I also need to thank Marc Vausort, the curator of Le Musee de La Photographie in Charleroi, Belgium for writing a lovely critique of my work and my influences.

You can find the magazine in art establishments and on stands in England, France and of course, Belgium. You can also buy it from their site. It is also translated into three languages.