A Long and Hard Look

I've had a full last few hours, mainly as a person and as photographer. We’re back to this. I know that this is becoming an ongoing theme however until this is resolved, this will be the topic in question to whoever listens, reads or understands. We can relate to being in a place in our lives where we think we should be at but we’re not.
The fact that I think its time to face the fact, I'm not at a place in my life where I should be.
Should is the word I tend to focus on:
I should be freelancing more
I should be writing more (less about me, more to an audience)
I should be more career, there is a place for creativity, less casual about
I should stop being lost and confused
I shouldn't go down.
I'm down, trying to get up. I've done this before, one too many times. I don't know if I have that feeling of achievement when it's been scripted. I know this play by heart.
Then why the Hell am I not performing this to the audience.
The last few weeks I stepped away from the spotlight, went out of the radar. I hid from the confines of my social life and thought about what my game plan should be. I've been stalling, I've been afraid...afraid that this could either go two ways: bad or good.
My feedback has always been good, she's got talent, she's got poise. However...
However there is this shadow, this darkness that has a hard time believing that there is good, there is hope. That this is too good to be true. And then, it goes away. The goodness is there, I wish I can believe it can be a permanent resident in my heart after years of revolving in and out of my life.

This past weekend I was in Toronto, I was covering Canadian Music Week, the perks of being a photographer with ideas, they actually take you places. I ended up taking pictures of bands in amazing venues in downtown Toronto. I've been focused on being a better photographer these last few weeks and it shows. I see what I'm about to shoot, I'm aware of my surroundings. I think I'm back at the level I was a couple years before I sort of lost interest.
Glad that it's there. Now if only I can do that in my personal work.
I was staying at a friend’s; he's actually a friend of my ex's (the one who took off with my money). He is normally an in your face, to the point, right wing, ADD driven asshole who pushes my buttons and well, I need someone to push my buttons to get the work done.
He unfortunately has fallen on hard times and like the economic crisis, is in need of a bailout. More for his mental well being than his wallet. Hasn't worked in months, living in a filthy bachelors and popping pills to sustain another day of numbed living. He has good days, I encountered the bad when you combined alcohol with self loathing and revealing a suicide attempt gone wrong. This was hardcore, this was real. This is something I am familiar with.
Suicide not so much, the fact that this being the true last resort means that I’ve not hit rock bottom. But the fact that I think it does cross some minds now and then. The fact that I know the role of the self-loather looking for answers, looking for a way out of these situations. I know this role and I know it’s hard to deal with this type of person but let’s face it; there are a lot of us out there. We’re living in not so ideal situations. In the last 18 months I’ve lost friends to other cities because of the job situations, I’ve seen friends struggle in search for work, relationships I’ve question and worst of all, the need of addiction in the form of alcohol and meaningless lust (or relationships consisted of nothing because of a fear of not having someone in the room).
That’s a lot going on in my head, hence the stuck feeling.
My friend is ok as it can get, I know he’ll get out of it. I hope he’ll get out of it. These are trying times, it’s hard to be creative when all there is is real, if you try to escape it feels like you’re neglecting the hard truth at hand, to face them head on.
I really hope he’ll make it out ok, I just don’t know when.
Hope, that word again. I hope for a lot of things:
To be happy without guilt
To take pictures without either intimidation or sheer frustration
To know that my friendships have no strings attached or limitations
To believe that there is such thing as stability
To know that when someone falls down, they can get up
Here’s the big one, to know that there is no such thing as running out of ideas.

I know this guy who tours from city to city, telling strange exploits from his eclectic life. I met him starting out freelancing and he gave me advice about the idea of making some money in the process. We found out we share a common connection of self-awareness in our storytelling. Curiously is what we craved, the sense of exploration in what is out there got me to explore some things about myself I didn’t know existed:
Such as true confidence.
I found my confidence form someone who only sees me 10 days out of the year. He sees it in my words, my images and in my doodles. I believed in that, I believed for the first time that this could be done, creativity as a job, because he’s doing it.
Then came last year, this was me out of it. My world crashed and I was self destructive, being the 2nd rate/3rd string in the “open relationship” and not doing great photo wise. He returned with a show where he struggled, he had a hard time writing it. He was having a tough tour.
This was not supposed to happen, he was my rock. He was the hope I needed and here he was, struggling. This was the first time I saw that no matter how creative you can be, you could run out of ideas. The jig was up, we’re doomed. I lost more confidence and drank some more. I didn’t want to admit it but even heroes can be mortals too.
He’s back on track doing other forms of performance however I won’t be seeing him in town. That’s the sad part; I’ll miss the insights and the strong hugs where it felt like he’s protecting me from the harsh world. I feel betrayed but do believe that there is only a small ray of hope that creativity will be back on track.
That word again. Will you stop giving me expectations?

Which brings me to today. I did take pics of bands all weekend, but when I got back I got a call to cover the anti brutality riots (it started as a demonstration however when I got there it gotten out of hand). At the same time I gotten out of hiding and decided to see the guy (formally known as jerkface) for the first time in months. I needed to figure things out; he didn’t want to deal with what I went through in Toronto with my friend (me playing the role of the self loather).
I knew that the clash between police and demonstrators would result in the destruction of property and udder chaos:
And I chose to be in the heart of the action.
At first I was pissed that we lost the photographer and I got back into town 20 minutes before. I was more pissed that jerkface bailed out on me for the 64th time (now here’s someone who knows more about bailouts). And with an angry, tired photographer stuck on a city bus while cop cars bombard the streets in search of an angry mob there were two things I could do: wait and fume on the bus or get out and find the mob. Helicopters swirled the city, crowds and cop cars going into a direction that would lead me to jackpot. I ran and ran until I found the show down between riot cops and crazy mobs. I ducked rocks, debris and anarchy. I was getting a high from risking my neck for photos. By the end of the day, it was this feeling of satisfaction knowing that I had the balls to sustain something I would have avoided. This rush of confidence of doing this without doing anything stupid. It wasn’t that hard.
What was hard today was looking at myself in front of jerkface, sitting down and talking with him for the first time and dealing with the problem at hand. If I had the choice between the riots or dealing with my problems I would settle for the riots.
That hard.
To deal with mistakes that feel like you would want to take the easy way out.
I had to do this, do you think it’s easy to stay angry with someone and with myself at the same time. I didn’t want to go there but it had to be, we share the same social circle and he now knows of my flaws. Real big flaws such as self-loathing and lacked confidence. Real sexy. No wonder I feel like I lost big time. The feeling of defeatism is mutual if you’re on a team that is going nowhere, not winning but not losing so much where you lose control and you miss the playoffs. I know the game plan was going to change, I was going to have to adapt to it. However a few things had to come out because for once I felt like I had to fend for myself:
I don’t befriend the girlfriend, either current or past tense
I am not 2nd rate/3rd string (I keep telling myself this)
I am currently by myself looking for trust and friends
Can I trust you as a friend?
I may not be hopeful but there is a part of me that still thinks that there might be good. Can I still find good after losing trust, losing myself. The fact that what I did before, the open relationship. I knew that this was wrong (my gut knew it) and yet, I kept going. Throwing myself into this mess over and over. Hurting myself on many levels. And worst of all, someone knows of this. He explored into my dark realm. Now, how can I redeem myself after what happened?
I kick myself all the time knowing I did this stupid thing, being a thing. I’m more than an object:
I’ve been told I’ve been awesome
Caring
Passionate
Honest
Wonderful
My all time favorite: confident.
He sees that in me but is not into me, I know that. I should know that, I haven’t been myself in a long time and here I am in the bar, facing the music to admit that I haven’t been a good person (to myself and to others). My friend in Toronto has pushed away people and has isolated himself. I don’t want to be that person, I also don’t want to be that person who is angry and writing these words this late in the night. I don’t:
Want to stay angry
I don’t want to keep hating myself for nearly destroying myself
I don’t want to stay stuck
I don’t want to lose trust or lose people
I don’t want to keep hurting myself.
I remember two years ago I was happy, I finished school, photo was great. I was making friends and had hope. I miss that person; I was naïve to believe that opportunities would drop on my lap. I knew that there was going to be dirt on my hands, instead I now have scars. Scars that show and tell a story of trying to figure out where I fit into the scheme of things. Of messes that I would have to explain, in a rare case, to admit that I did. I have to stop punishing myself and others. To search for answers in other people and when they let me down, to not rely on their hope when there’s have disappeared. It’s up to me now, I know there is some hope as I was gutsy to go into flying objects and mass destruction. It’ll take time for wounds to heal, the scars to remind me that I cannot be stupid about my life. I have to deal with the fact that it’s going to be tough, go with as little hope as I can. It’s better than no hope at all. I’ve been good the last 6 weeks; I’ll still be going. It’s up to me now to create my happiness.

I’m not done yet, I’m still here.