Body heat

The heat, God the intense heat!  Will it ever subside, will it ever cool off?  I had no idea just how hot it was until we met, that first night standing naked in the window hoping for a breeze to blow though, even a whisper of a breeze would be welcomed.

Standing there my arm around your waist, my chest pushing up against your back, the softness of your breasts brushing my arm bringing a new sensation every-time we moved ever so slightly.  We stood rocking from side to side watching as the crowed went about there lives 3 stories below us, never once suspecting we were there in an embrace so tight we became one.

As I brushed your long hair over to one side it allowed me to see those delicate ears I speak about, allowed me to gently caress the nape of your neck with my lips, the sweet taste of you as we stood in the heat.  My arm wrapped around your waist your arm on top of mine, your fingers exploring every inch of mine.  Slowly touching each knuckle, my finger tips.  My right arm dropped to feel the length of your waist, hip and leg... the soft texture of your skin in the heat, boiling under my finger tips.

We stand there swaying slowly from side to side, watching the night sky as the stars slowly drift though.  A gentile kiss on the side of your neck, my lips exploring your ear, while I whisper "I am here, standing right behind you" a playful tug on your earlobe produces that smile of yours, those dreamy eyes lift up enough to meet mine but then just as quickly drift back to the nights wandering sky.

Standing there slowly swaying from side to side, embraced so tight that the sweat from our bodies forms an immovable suction and we are locked in that position, neither of us mind and we continue some very soft explorations of the other, small areas on can reach without breaking the embrace, without breaking the rhythm of our movement.

My right hand moves to rest on your belly and a small but gentile gesture on my part brings a smile to your face again.  You now exploring my face with your lips, my left ear, my neck, we sway to the rhythm of us, we move according to that rhythm and we breathe each other in with deep breaths, filling our lungs completely.  We sway from side to side never moving but exploring every bit we can without breaking that embrace.

The night comes to an end with the sound of a phone beeping in my ear, my battery was dying and the connection was about to be lost, we were standing there swaying from side to side and I had never left my studio, you were thousands of miles away, we were connected because it was the only way it could be, you were standing in your studio looking out over the nights sky and I was in mine looking out over a bustling city.  Both of us standing there swaying alone, but as one, exploring the other as though we were together.

Whispering in your ear "I am hear with you, I am always with you", you whispering back "I know I feel you here everyday, I see you when my eyes are closed, I feel you when I sleep".  The breathing, the motion, the scent, the taste was all consuming, it was life saving for the both of us.

After the connection was lost I walked over to the sink and grabbed a towel because despite having the air conditioner on full blast I had left a small pool of sweat on the studio floor, glancing up in the small mirror above the sink I noticed several small lips stick marks on my neck.  I could feel you with me, smell your scent in the air.  I could still feel the two of us swaying from side to side in that tight embrace

Never wanting to let go, never getting enough.

The human male

Is for the most part afraid to admit that all he wants is to immerse himself in the female of the species.

Presumably because of hundreds of thousands of years of the hunter gatherer thing…

Neanderthal like yes!

But here is the thing:

From my perspective,

There is nothing I enjoy more then to admire the shape of the female form, the earlobes, the slender neck, the shoulders, the bottom, or the simplest of features like the belly button!

There is nothing more enjoyable then to run my fingers over breasts with erect nipples that let me know the feeling is mutual.  To feel the shape of hips that give way to the perfect bottom, and every bottom is perfect in my mind!

There is nothing more enjoyable then to see thousands of goose bumps rise because of the raw pleasure experienced by the female, then see them disappear just as fast because body temperature raises higher then the goose bumps.

There is nothing more desirable then the taste of a woman… the lips, the tongue, the neck, the breasts with those erect nipples, the taste of the navel, the taste of a woman defines her, makes her who she is… the taste of a woman is simply put; desire in it's purest form!

The human male is for the most part afraid to admit desire to taste, to feel the curvature of a woman under his fingers, to taste the beads of sweat rolling down her breasts, to taste her navel and beyond, afraid to admit that these things are true.

I am not and I want to feel every bit, taste every inch, hold for hours on a cold night.  I want and desire woman, as they are full of sensuality, beauty, and curves I want to taste~

I am the human male and I desire…

The space where the color changes in your eyes.

The space where the color changes in your eyes.

You said your eyes were hazel and to be honest I saw brown, light brown, but brown. While working on one of your photographs I was quite surprised to find that there are two colors in your eyes. Two colors separated by a tiny sliver of area where the two are a mix and this tiny area is what I found to be incredible.



Before I tell you about this sliver of discovery I’ll note the colors of your eyes starting out at the very edge is a narrow band of light green, closer to the pupil is light brown I mentioned and when you look at your eyes from a distance they do have the appearance of being one unified color, one we call “hazel”. Like I said I was a bit stunned when working on your images to find your eyes are actually two colors and they have this sliver of mix between them.



Here is the incredible part…



This slim area of mix, the area where these two colors come together and blend this is the area I find most fascinating, because as I have told you before when I photograph, I see who people are. Packed in the area, this slim little slice of blended color in your eyes is where all of your incredible energy, creativity, all the random thoughts you have, this is where your passion and intense longings come from.



You told me during our first shoot that you were not doing what you were meant to do, and having taken a peak inside this tiny sliver of color in your eyes you are right. Before taking a peak inside this area of blended color I told you that there was and explosion of creativity waiting to be let out of you and I was right about that as well.



So here I am looking into the eyes of a person who has for a very long time, for some odd reason, had some effect on me that I have not been able to explain. We drift in and out of each others lives and every few years say “hello”. And after so many you would think the intense nervous “thing” would have subsided, we are after all just people. Looking at that incredible sliver of color change I discovered some possible answers. For one, finally having discovered this area I’ve been able to see who you are and am so intrigued by your desire to be free of the bounds of the “daily life in a box”, second I have discovered things that even she knows, though subconsciously and will only be truly known to her once she decides to step out of that box.



For having looked into this sliver of blended color in your eyes, I discovered that I like you, that I always have and that attraction will be around for a while because every time I open a new image to work on I still get the nervous feeling, looking into that sliver of blended color. I have always been and will continue to be the quiet one, the shy guy who would prefer to step back rather then see conflict. Given I have MS I have no choice, given we all have bad timing all I can do is admire you the way I have, given the lives we live, all I can do is peer into the sliver of blended color in your eyes and enjoy who you really are…



Note: I wrote this to a friend I photographed in 09, pressure from people around her forced her to actually be embarrassed regarding her images and instead of standing up for herself she crawled deeper into her “life box”. The images were some of the most beautiful, creative and stunning images I have ever taken of a woman.  There is a short story being written called “Escape from Conservatopia” that is partly inspired by these events.



You only live once… stand up for your self and be creative. If you let them push you down Conservatopia wins… we all lose!

My soul gets tired

When the hate for a father,

includes the daughter,

my soul gets tired.

When dreams are pushed down,

because of petty insecurities,

my soul get tired.

When the hate for a father,

the daughter,

the mother,

friends,

self,

my soul gets tired.

When the spark of youthful eyes,

goes blank and weak,

when the ones around are afraid,

to speak...

My soul is tired...

A few words on romance

Romance is the thing you do because it makes you feel alive,

There are never guarantees in life and there aren’t in romance,

Romance is the thing you do because it makes someone else feel alive,

A life without romance can be a lonely, spiteful place,

Romance is the thing you do when your heart feels passion for something or someone

Denying romance is just another way of shutting out the thing you’re afraid of, or deserve,

Romance is this crazy mysterious, exhilarating, unpredictable thing,

That for some reason as adults we forget when we mature and become jaded by the world,

Romance is giving some simple gesture with no expectations in return; it is the feeling you get when you receive something with no expectations in return.

Romance does not revolve around sex, maybe a little bit about relationships and who knows if we all were a bit more romantic it might be a much nicer place.  Everyone young and old should be romantic, because without it we are nothing more then tired, heartless, cold, hard-headed, know it all, self entitled, snobby ass, parade pissers.

In my humble opinion it would be much better to romance then piss on someone’s parade.  But hey that’s just me…

And hopeless romantic = eternal optimist...

One guys opinion...

Too Bad (your're married)

I drive by your restaurant twice every day
and wish I had the courage to stop in and say
The things that needed to be,
my hope that you would see
The torment I spend everyday and how much I
I want you to know, but…


Then your sister said too bad, too bad your married.
She would be great for you!
Too bad because you seem sad and blue
You’re married too bad for you…


Finally getting brave enough to enter,
Telling a bad joke as I get near the counter
I saw your smiling face, I saw that curly hair
I’ve got to slow down, man, don’t show despair!
I want you to know, be open and straight but…


Then your sister said too bad, too bad you’re married.
She would be great for you!
Too bad because you seem sad and blue
You’re married too bad for you…


Seeing you in that white dress
Made my mind feel a little stressed
Trust me when I say that
your family was a bit distressed
You really should know that I see
A work of art, like when you’re smiling at me…


Then your sister said too bad, too bad you’re married.
She would be great for you!
Too bad because you seem sad and blue
You’re married too bad for you…


Realizing the way things are,
Kind of like being put in a jar
Giving you those photos that day
The thing you don’t know,
You make my knees wobble and sway.


That is when I thought to say…


Too bad I‘m married because I would be great for you,

Your sister said too bad, too bad your married
She would be great for you!

I say too bad because I am sad and blue

She said you’re married to bad for you…

Irony at its best

Late 2007 was the 20th anniversary of the crash of Flight 255 at Detroit Metro airport and it struck me…

I was head of security at 3 of the hotels that are near the airport back then and at the time the current name of the hotel I was finishing up a report on was the Hilton.  Sergeant Painter from the Romulus Police Department and I had just finished some sort of disturbance call and were outside comparing notes standing next to his squad car in front of the glass-wall front of the hotel.  We heard an explosion and saw the reflection of the crash in the glass.  In an instant he said “I’ll go south you go north”, I did not have a squad car and wore a suit (no uniform) so I was not sure how things would go or what I would find.

I had my radio in hand and headed toward the north side of the freeway where thick black smoke was flowing into a rainy, humid sky.  It took about, two maybe three minutes to get to my destination and what I found is imprinted in my thoughts to this day.  Other then my original reports and a segment on the Flight 255 memorial website this is the only time I have written about it.  It is graphic and disturbing…

When I pulled up to the stop light at the street just before the freeway over pass it was a surreal scene.  Fire everywhere, people running screaming!  The cockpit of the aircraft sitting just 50 feet in front of my car on fire.  A second auto to my left was engulfed inflames the occupants did not have time to escape and this car had been driving on the freeway, when the aircraft hit the overpass this car had been blown off, landing some 150ft away.  I put my car in park and turned off the ignition and left my emergency flasher on so other rescue vehicles could see and not drive any further.  When I got out of the car a woman sobbing came over and said the driver of “that car” as she pointed to one just next to the vehicle on fire, "is running down the street… that car just missed her!"  Un-fortunately I could not do much for the woman, as my concern was to first see about rescue but second protect the scene for investigators that would come later.

This is the part where I loose all faith in the human race… the embankment was covered in luggage from top to bottom and beyond and just to the west of this horrific scene was a subdivision.  Had the plane landed there it would have been much worse but instead I found people going through this luggage taking what they could.  Then getting angry when moved out of the area, complete loss of faith… About a half an hour into efforts to find survivors I was approached by a man wearing hospital scrubs he said “ I am a doctor is there any thing I can do?”, my reply was "there is not much left but maybe under the bridge."  I did not find out until many hours later that he found the soul survivor.  A 3-year baby girl who had been covered under her mothers body.  A whole bunch of faith returned!

I am not posting the names of these folks if you want to find them out they are on the memorial "website.": http://www.flight255memorial.com/

I spent about two and half hours at the scene and had to return to the Hilton as things started to get a bit crazy.  I got home that night about 4:00am and my wife thought I had been sunburned.  My skin had been turned a deep red from the intense heat of the fire from the time I was there.  The smell of jet fuel deep in my clothes I could even taste it.  The next morning and for the weeks that followed I had to put in some serious time as families for those that perished and investigators occupied the hotels under my watch.  All during that time the State Police kept calling asking if I needed to talk need to unload… Could not figure out why… The reports that I had read afterward stunned me; the divorce rate for those that were part of the rescue efforts was 70 or 80 percent!  We aren't meant to experience those things I was told.  Though at the time I thought I was just doing my job it had and still does have an impact on my life…

If you’re still reading now is the time for the ironic part…

Eventually I could not stand the stress of that job, maybe the area I don’t know but I had to move on and got hired as an engineer at Ford Motor Company, Got really board with that and moved to a supplier for a year but that was just as bad.  One of my coworkers at the supplier left and found a job that was looking for an engineer specific to my field, I thought what the heck!  And got the job!  That was 12 years ago the company you ask?  No names but they make jet engines and at the facility I work at and they have 8 test cells (a place here they run engines 24 hours a day) so every morning I pull into my parking spot get out of my car with my coffee in hand and smell that God awful smell of jet fuel burning.  Every morning I revisit the night when flight 255 went down.  Some are asking “then why continue to work there?” about a month after starting is when I was diagnosed with MS.  Makes you crazy with self-doubt.  I am just now regaining the confidence in myself to ask is this worth it?

The overwhelming good that came of that night was the soul survivor, she is now married and has her own children, an education in child psychology…

But I have to say this whole thing is irony at its best!