JT Guy's blog

Heading out to shoot hotels in the far flung corners of Texas and actually getting paid. Nervous, but here we go!

MY "a" doesn't work so let your brain fill in the "a" blanks as it is want to do if you don't think too much about it.

Too much time hs pst since I posted decent picture. Too much time hs pssed since I took decent picture. Too much time hs psssed since I took picture with my own cmer. Too much time hs pssed since I hd ny inspirtion. Too much time hs pssed since i looked t the clouds nd sw sw form nd imge. Too much time hs pssed since n overpss hs cught my eye or tree or bench. Too much time hs pssed since the brk of tree clled to me. Too much time hs pssed since tht lonely pond with red filter tht ws one of my first posts on Flickr. Too much time hs pssed since I gve shit wht people think of the photos I do mnge to tke.

I do tend to cre wht people think, not tht it is n influence but I wnt people to enjoy my love (or bsentee love s the cse my be).

It's been too long since I picked up the cmer for the ske of picking up the cmer. It's been to long since I picked up the cmer for the ske of me. It's been too long since I picked up the cmer for the ske of beuty nd form nd ll of the little things tht people without cmer cnnot see. It's just been too long ... nd so is this blog.

There are these nights when I am alone. Alone with sleeping children abed, a wife about the town, alone with nothing to occupy me but me. Alone. I've a camera, a computer, a TV, a fire to tend and manage to end up lonely.

The text to Midge is always available, going to poke at my fire is there too if occupying the time is important for but a moment, then I find myself alone. The self portrait is, of course, the standby but I prefer to see myself in my minds eye, the way Midge makes me feel, rather than see my actual image.

I can clean an already tidied home, wash a few clothes, read a book I've read too many times already, have another lonely drink of whiskey (it is winter after all) or ... or what? Sit here and "blog?"

Good fucking grief.

This is what my weekends have become.

Guess I'll do another shot. Apparently I am defined by those about me, for when without I have so little.... there are worse curses.

Imagine a life with none of these options. A life without the woman who has defined love for me, children who have redefined the depth of love, a camera recording what I see, a fire to warm an alone body, an author like Hemingway to take me to a world I can never know or the whiskey to lighten a winter spirit when all of these are at play. I can't imagine it anymore without tears.

These alone moments make me reevaluate the times I want to get away, reconsider the nights I want to go out and rethink my tendencies towards dwelling within myself. There are worse curses...

Do you have one of these?

The economy takes a downturn, everything gets more expensive and your lovingly faithful housewife and mother needs to take a job so the budgetary ends continue to meet at the end of the week. She's always wanted a bar so she takes a job in one so the children's daytime needs are still met without the need for evil daycare, gets all new sexy clothes for the job, spends hours getting ready for it each weekend night, leaves at 5 for a 6:30 shift, brings home boat loads of cash, refuses to sleep with the the owner, earns the top spot in the joint, makes tons of friends, has a grand old time, tells everyone about me so when I make a rare appearance they all know me by name and I'm still happily married!

She asks for a girl's night out and I say "Go for it!" You send her out in the nice car, smelling and looking like a million $$$ and she comes home on time. The designated driver by choice. Even calls before leaving so you know when to expect her. What the fuck is going on here?

Guys from the bar text her all the time, the owner and his girl want her for a plaything, there is a waiting list amongst the guys to be the next "Mr Midge", drugs of the best sort are at her fingertips, she could go home with anyone there at anytime, do anything she wants at any time but continues to come home every night.

She stays at home all the week long being a stellar "June Cleaver" to a 3 & 5 year old, watches an infant until 5:45 daily and manages to keep from running me over to get away when I come home 12 or 13 hours after I left for work.

Huh?

A faithful wife? Wow. This is pretty cool.

Hoping to push the shutter button soon, it is on my mind both day and night. So much is going on right now between the new (32 year old - needs lots of help- Jeep Wagoneer), work, family and everyday life that the Alpha hasn't crawled out of its bag in a while.

I keep seeing the world in photos but haven't the time to pull over and make the shot. It kills me a little each foggy dawn on my way to work that I can't pull over, set up the tripod and make an image from a mere sight. Each night coming home from a long days toil, with the soon to set sun in my eyes I think of the golden hour and can see it in front of me but am pulled away from it by the bliss that is spending time with my family. What do you do with bliss? Say "I don't want to be blissful today, I'll just skip awe and wonderment to go do my own thing!" Bullshit.

I think I need another day, every day that I'm not missed or needed by anyone, that I'm not missing or needing someone. One day for each and every one that is already spoken for. I need 730 days to complete a full year in the calendar of Me. Okay, laziness may overcome me on a few of those days so give me 650 and I could...no I couldn't. I need 730 to build a miniature train set, clean the garage, finish painting, finish the floors, restore an Alpine and a Wagoneer, fix the shower, landscape the yard, refinish a door, and oh yea, take a photo or two that aren't snapshots.

I sense I'm not alone here....I hope.

Do you have one of these? No? Go get one, they can't be hard to find. Just check the local catalog under bitch and you'll have your choice. Most likely she'll be Jewish on her father's side which doesn't actually count. She'll just think she's as smart as the nearest rabbi, and will give you all the answers you never knew you needed. It's greatness really. You'll never have to think for yourself again because, after all, you'll be wrong anyway so why bother! Go ahead, it's great. Just ask me I'll tell you, then I'll tell you again after I've received the proper answer.

Fall has settled in here nicely. Mid 70's during the day and mid 40's at night. The skies are clear and only the mildest of breezes wanders in from the north. Trees are beginning to paint their leaves in colors only sunsets and dawns had dreampt of during the summer. The days grow shorter and the nights ever so long, and cool. Colors of the leaves on trees are not the only things changing when I break out my sweaters though. This change in the seasons calls for a move away from the lighter Gins and Vodkas to a heavier, more robust and substantial Whiskey. Amber waves of grain. The burn of a cheap blended American 1/5 or a Scotch, single malt, full of a variety of flavors that are like walking a gauntlet of subtle caresses to the pallet. Ahh, winter. Bring on the whiskey.