Could Superficiality Get Me Through? Day #4 Withdrawals.

Here is a super fab video from gorgeous Robbie Williams and my saviors, The Pet Shop Boys sing back ups for Robbie.

A perfect mix: Robbie plays the drag queen/sexy lounge singer and the satirical or not so, musicians, The Pet Shop Boys of great hits like, the monotonous memorable contemporary urban question,  "You Pay My Rent", provide the music. 

Yes, good superficial desires are pulling me back in or as they say these days, GROUNDING ME . Don't get me wrong, things are still throwing me in around in a spastic habitrail, or rather, I feel like I'm standing on the side lines, bouncing around and out of rhythm.

I treated myself to Sally Hansen nail strengthener, cut them cuticles and soaked my fingers in a bath of anti-bacterial suds. I am on the way to real lady fingers... something that might make my life better. I have to give it a chance.

The inner and brain zaps, depersonalization, other words, my arch nemesis "the existentialist solitary confinement". 

Thanks Jean-Paul Sartre for the breaking through to the other side. Or rather inside. Damn' you, I love you.

They are still there. And the ever annoying to others, 'repetitive thinking' which manifested in days of  incessant crying and self-loathing. Some of the others seem of the lighter malfunctions: headaches, and nervousness, paranoia, etc. 

There have been so many epic nightmares crossing continents and centuries, violence and apocalyptic brouhaha that could have gained me several screenplay Oscars if I had found the time to detangle their senselessness.  

My doctor says write them down. They always say that don't they. They want you to believe you are the next Ann Sexton or Francis Farmer.... crazy and fucked up but with some intellectual redemption. Or maybe they just want to teach you how to pass your time instead of eating yourself alive.

But, let's get back to superficiality. In the worst of times, shopping and the Pet Shop boys has gravitated me back to ground floor.  What ever it takes. You might have your own secret superficial endeavors. I call them joie de vivre... so, why do I deny myself "The Love Boat" episodes on a regular basis to keep my head above ground? 

I suppose too much of it would turn me 180 degrees back to depressive thinking. I esteem those who walk through life with little irritation for the most banal of activities. Everyone, needs something to believe in and for some it just might be that SUV with tinted windows.

So, for your listening and visual pleasure, the super sexy and super genius of Chris Lowe and Neil Tennant have satirically pulled me through the worst of times when there seemed to be no one around. And yes, before Facebook when you might get a heads up and notic e.

Here is a super fab video from gorgeous Robbie Williams and my saviors who flatly sing in a memorable contemporary question: "You Pay My Rent". The next is hot, hot, hot.

For a great look at an interview with Tennant and Lowe:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ariston-anderson/pet-shop-boys-write-socia_b_210648.html

Time to walk Moishe and Howard and then a revisit to any errors in this draft. 

For those of you who want to look at the longer version of an interview with Robbie Williams in drag and hairy chest check out the following:

With cheezy whizzy interview!

The Cowboy Way Might Be the Only Way

Catch up with me in a month or less, I hope. I still have stories to tell. And who knows things might get better fast.

I have worked hard against a vicious disease for years... nothing on the outside could bring be the happiness except a constant sense of inner bliss. Photography has kept me going and I am thankful that I found it despite the obvious downfalls.

This is much and not all of what I am experiencing right now. Not all. Hospitalization which is the normal course is not a possibility. Like many, I can't afford it. So, I am hiding out in my apartment and trying to slowly get things done, day to day.

I thought to myself...should I divulge such private information to cyberspace and then I realized, perhaps, it might help someone. If I can show the difficulties and humanity of others, does it make my work any better or any worse?

Nardil, my drug of choice or rather the precious gods of pharmaceuticals that toy and play with meds because they just don't know.

NARDIL Withdrawal Symptoms May Include:

aggression, anxiety, balance issues , blurred vision , brain zaps, concentration impairment, constipation, crying spells, depersonalization, diarrhea, dizziness. electric shock sensations, fatigue, flatulence, flu-like symptoms, hallucinations, hostility, highly emotional, indigestion, irritability, impaired speech, insomnia, jumpy nerves, lack of coordination, lethargy, migraine headaches / increased headaches, nausea, nervousness, over-reacting to situations, paranoia, repetitive thoughts or songs, sensory & sleep disturbances, severe internal restlessness (akathasia), stomach cramps, tremors, tinnitus (ear ringing or buzzing), tingling sensations, troubling thoughts, visual hallucinations / illusions, vivid dreams, speech visual changes, worsened depression

Because MAOI’s affect numerous bodily functions, stopping NARDIL incorrectly can adversely affect many areas simultaneously. Gradual dose reduction (also known as tapering), combined with specific nutritional support is recommended to support the body and brain during the withdrawal process.

They haven't left a think out.

What isn't on these lists? Last chance charlie.

Is this for real? Yes, much of it certainly is except for the unpleasant gastrointestinal symptoms.

Thanks to dear friends who have been by my side. There never was a good time for this.

"If you are an MAOI than you cannot take this medication", it monotony is blaring from every pharmaceutical commercial. I've been on Nardil for eight years and after the first year, it never really worked much. But, I kept moving somehow. I love photography. The most glamorous thing I can say about Nardil is that the only other person, I know of that was on it was Marilyn Monroe.

Alas, My Voyage is Almost Over but Not Done!

"Chez LuLu #1", August 2009, Juliana Beasley.

Yes, I have been tardy once again with writing to you my dear friends.

As I have been in Paris close to 2 plus weeks, I have been working with both Christian Caujoulle and Andres Frere on the sequencing of my book due for release in April or May 2010. The name- "Sete 10". 

I am hoping that the book will indeed be distributed in the USA too. Let's wait and see!

Above is one of my favorite photos and I hope that it will make the cover. Remember, all the images that I have been showing from Sete have been scanned from the contact sheets...hence the rough and dirtiness. 

I will be in touch when I return to Jersey City!

Warm wishes, Juliana

Back in Paris

Now, comes the super fun part. Editing with the talented and well-known, Christian Caujolle and Andre Frere, the publisher of Images en Manoeveres.

I came back to Paris on the 9th of October after a lovely trip along the Canal du Midi with Victoria.  As I was already living in Sete, we were not far from the beginning of the trail. We rented mountain bikes for trip from a wonderful bike shop in Sete.  The owner was incredibly helpful and gave us a bottle of glue spray that you put into the inner tube and fills up punctures. This stuff is fantastic as we needed it twice during our trip.

We took are daily breaks along the tree lined canal drinking local wines at ridiculously low prices-- one delicious bottle of Merlot cost us $1.50 USD. We bought it from the owner of a specialized distillery where the owner refuses to make white wine as he does not care for it.

We watched canal boats go through locks, some owned by private companies and some by families or brazen retirees. Hey, it takes a lot of man power to pull the ropes and get the boats through the locks. What a beautiful site when sitting in the late heat of October, drinking white wine and eating goat cheese infused with olive oil and rosemary bottled in a jar.

We could not find good restaurants which unfortunately, is the case with many tourists who get stuck in some overpriced place with a piece of rough sirloin and a waitress who despises you and is jaded.

If you have the extra money in pocket...which has become harder for Americans to enjoy a trip with the exchange from dollars to euros, please, take a canal trip. It's relaxing and peaceful. And if you research well, you can find one as we did that was more or less a flat ride from start to finish when we arrived in Carcassone.

Me Happy with Dominique!

This is the fabulous Dominique who is charge of the Paris office of Contact Press Images. In-between our busy work day at the office, we took a break and made this fun photo.  

It's so good to share moments away from the often solitary work of documentary photography, trolling the streets for new subjects and shots (drama, drama), and take the time to breathe and share a moment with someone who understands the livelihood of working in this field.

Don't get us all together in a room...there might be some kvetching!! 

Sally...A Draft and Simple Story

I got on the 

Stamford line train

paying for my ticket at the kid's rate. 

I made up frivolous stories to pass the time. I pretended I was French and spoke with a heavy accent to generic men in suits about my life in France. I wished I was from some where else, other than New Rochelle, on Wilmot Road, living in the woods, in a small red house with pot belly stoves covered lids  made of a cream colored porcelain. 

I yearned to stink like a French woman on the Metro with hairy armpits. I pissed my mother off when i began smoking Gitanes--later Exports-- and watched cult and French movies on the VCR. I smoked from a silver mouth piece, and sat upon the couch like a diva from a Charles Adams novel. 

I hated the cold and I loved the summers spent lying out on the dock with are tenant, Sally who worked for the government, doing what I'll never know. 

She was a drunk or at least my Mom told me so. On summer days, we lay side by side on the dock,  tanning and listened to the oldies but goodies station. Occasionally, she would walk up the hill and make another drink, a scotch over ice, sometimes it was a bottle of Smirnov. 

Sally was as obsessed with tanning as she was collecting empties. She spent hours a day running up and down Wilmot Road, wearing a pair of shorts, the kind that had the seam up the sides and were then, back in the early eighties what one might sporty. No matter how long she jogged, her thighs were thick and cellulite dimpled. They jiggled up and down. I hadn't noticed until one day my mother said,

"If she stopped drinking, she might loose the cellulite".

I wondered why Sally didn't have a man in her life. It made feel sad and lonesome for her. During the week, I never saw her. She must go to work behind doors that close fast, the kind where you need a special plastic card to enter. It must be top secret and I never asked her about her work.

I couldn't understand how someone might live alone in that guest house.

I can't remember how old she was... just the freckles, her far away look upon her face, and the sound of ice cubes against a rocks as she poured another in the kitchen overlooking our backyard.

 

Please bare with my technical issues...such as type is too tight. I'll be back in Jersey City on the 16th and will deal with it then. 

Pic of the Day

"Celia Behind Locked Door", Sete, France, Juliana Beasley 2009.

Less than one week left, I'm working ahead towards the 30th of the month. Than a lovely vacation with Victoria on the Canal du Midi. Wow, how long has it been since I took a vacation. Although, right now I would prefer prefer lying on the beach! Wouldn't you after the chronic photographer's ailment: the backache. 

I took the photograph above in the Arab quarter of Sete. Celia is part Algerian and French. She was a real tough girl and the oldest in her family. They live in a converted attic. Celia, the young "ado"(adolescent) lives in her own room locked behind a close door across the hall from the main living area where her mother, sister and baby brother live.  She didn't like smiling for the camera and stared deep into my Rollei lens as if she owned it.