I woke up to the sounds of Transformers fucking outside my window. There are issues with the water pipes and drainage on my street. Trucks and other equipment are making a shit ton of mechanical sounds and rock/cement breaking. It sounds like Transformers fucking.
I have been doing fucking nothing.
Absolutely fucking nothing.
I have no more jobs for the end of the year. I have two articles in mind to write about but that will barely be any money. It will just be two articles. Two basic short articles I should pitch soon.
No more photo gigs. No other gigs. Corona is back and everything seems to be shutting down. I don’t remember most of the year. It went fast. It went fast by doing nothing. The world hibernated. And it hasn’t stopped.
I think about my mom daily still. And I cry a bit. It’s going to be two years now. And I can’t believe it. I dreamt about her last night. Not specifically about her. She was just there. Like it’s normal.
This dude came over by my house to tell me some news. The house was not the place I live in now. It was in an old alley and the door was black and metal. My mom was in the house. The dude didn’t know I lived with my mom. I just casually said that was my mom and we continued our conversation.
I woke up with the sad reminder that my mom is no longer around.
It always pains me.
A sad reminder of how alone I am.
I am listening to this bass player from San Diego. He is a big funny fellow. He looks like Ed Bighead from Rocco’s Modern World. His music reminds me of my cousin’s music. Another big funny bass player.
It’s great.
I’ll drop the link.
Here it is:
https://nothingful.bandcamp.com/
Sasha Syeed it’s his name. Or Nothingful.
I met him at a show once. I don’t know if he remembers.
I need to get a bass.
I often dream about playing more bass. I barely play my guitar, been playing more electric not even plugged in. I’ve been learning Big Blue from F-Zero. The first riff is pretty fun to play and not that hard. Then the solo comes and I don’t even have enough frets in my guitar (there is a bunch of very high D on fret 22 but my guitar only has 21 frets). I have to flat and ghost play those Ds.
My books don’t sell.
I sold 8 books in the past two weeks. I found one was a friend from Los Angeles who I met forever ago online. We actually never met in person but I feel like I know her. It’s been more than 10 years that we talked. She’s a mega-babe. She has a hot boyfriend now which makes me jealous. But she’s still a friend and an awesome girl. She bought one of my books.
My cousin’s girlfriend posted that she finally got one. So I figured out who got two of them… what about the other six?!
Well… It was all my cousin. My cousin bought five copies of my book. Taybaby bought one. The other two are still a mystery.
I appreciate the support from my primo Jackson… but I am a bit disappointed that most of my sales came from a family member and not a genuine interest from some stranger.
YOU!
Stranger from the internet.
Buy my book.
It’s about the years I used to be a paparazzi. It’s way more than just that. But that’s the gist of it. Click the image and it will take you an Amazon link to buy my book:
HERE!
I barely made any money from that. Maybe years from now I will. I get around $100 a month from book sales. That’s going to be less than $80 next month. And less than $60 the month after that.
I keep “promoting” it in my own way. It doesn’t help.
Here are some promo posts:
More.
And more.
Posting about Chapter 11 is next. Chapter 11 is Paul McCartney. Chapter 11 is also a very complex chapter…
You will have to read it to find out why.
With no work at all… I am trying to be productive with my own shit. I got the studio lights at the beginning of the year but I didn’t really try to make a studio out of it until now. Somewhat way too late. There are more than a dozen photographers in this city that built X-mas studio sets for the holidays. I barely built mine this last weekend and it’s not complete. My living room is not an ideal studio space.
It looks nice though. My brother and sister-in-law help me with the set. And we took some family pics.
Here are some with just me and my cats:
Besides them, I took pictures of my friend Benny and his son. I have a shoot booked tomorrow for a new mom and her baby. A shoot on Friday with a friend (not sure if she will bring her kids) and a sexy Santa photoshoot with the girl that posed as Misty before.
Because my apartment doesn’t feel 100% adequate as a business… I’m working with the “pay what you can” model. I like this model. Ideally, I would charge $50 for a 20-minute session or so and deliver a dozen pictures. But because I don’t have the confidence of charging that and because my apartment is not a real studio, pay what you can works.
It’s a model that other people use and I like the idea. I don’t have money, but if you don’t have money either, then let’s trade. I spent most of my money on food and drinks. Give me that. I do jobs. Or if you want to trade in other things, that works as well.
And more fucking flying!
And some flying at night!
And also, this girl needed a camera for her photography class. So I let her borrow mine. She had to take some portraits, so I posed as a model. Here are those pics:
Shots by this cutie:
So I have been doing something… barely anything. Video games (a lot of Rocket League), drinking, eating not well, sleeping late, and waking up late.
The year is almost over and it feels like reality is going to slap me on the face real quick real soon. It’s like I’ve been depressed but so used to my depression that I don’t even notice I am depressed.
Texas is still in my mind. Texas might still happen. At least for X-mas. About living there… I will find out or decide soon. It’s most likely no. But I do need a change in my life and I’ve been talking about it for the past year or more.
This is the part where the NFL Fantasy in Español goes. I didn’t make it to the playoffs. But there is still one game tonight. I need a miracle, for the fucking Cowboys to win by a lot and for most points coming from Cooper and Elliott.
I’ll edit the summary in this blog tomorrow.
Matingas 