to move up and down
ruzz
Only a fool tests the depth of the water with both feet.
this forced break has been bad for me on so many levels.
but there’s been a thought that keeps coming back again and again and that thought is about the next step. the next level. the next year or two of photos.
what i need to work on. get better at.
so maybe that wouldn’t have happened if i was still out shooting everyday. maybe i needed the break to see.
i put my finger on one of the quiet changes that happened when i moved out here. the music stopped.
all music. any music.
this house is silent all day. dad sits up in silence working on puzzles. i work on pictures or read. mom plays facebook games in silence.
i used to play music all day long at home.
i need a good set of headphones.
I live in a town that has a grain elevator.
for molly. who is prone to booing my retirement plans.
waiting around to die.
it’s 5 months now since i hurt my achillies.
5 months of pain with every step. it gets old a lot faster than 5 months.
auto
you ever have those moments where you’re like: whoa! who the fuck am i? what have i been doing with my life?
and the veil of self protection falls away so quiet and loose you never even hear it drop, or land.
- i walked the canals of airdrie for 2 hours yesterday and thought at length.
- my foot is so tight it could be made of concrete today. eff you Achilles
- a “friend” has been dangling a car in front of my nose for a week. he keeps telling me he’s bringing it out. an old beater i could have. i’ve tried not to get excited about it but i failed.
- i realized today that even though i knew he was bullshitting (why, i don’t get) that i had to go through this process to realize that i’m just waiting for something to happen and change things.
- which is not how things change
- then last night tasha (picture above) suggested something awesome to me and i decided to make that happen. more on that in the next few days. super secret plans.
- and i woke up fully decided to get off my ass and.. get on my ass and write that book about life and photography.
- and get my passport finally (super secret plans)
- so of course i woke up with the worst muscle spasm i’ve had since i got here
- which coupled with the foot makes me kinda miserable
- but that’s sort of the point
- misery is just part of daily life right now and i’ve got to stop giving in to it
- and use this window
- this gap in my life
- to
- do
- things
- i couldn’t otherwise do
- like books
- and super secret plans
all tangled up and can’t seem to find the right thread to pull to loose this jangle. it’s frustrating to have all this stuff going on, stuff that seems consequential (though rarely is) and have my throat close up tight. no words. no clarity.
Hello to the new followers. welcome. allow me to introduce myself.
i’m ruzz. people seem to either love me or hate me. i seem to love things or hate things. my mouth can be very polarizing.
i’m learning how to write a love letter to my city with pictures.
i used to write code for a living. 20 years of that laid waste to my back now I’m hanging that 70’s show style in my parents basement.
that usually crosses the ladies legs pretty quickly.
while i wait for my back to get sorted out i’m in a holding pattern in rural alberta.
trying not to come apart. trying to decipher what this unwanted turn in my life might be for.
a quick look through my recent posts to try to figure a way to describe what you can expect here tells me I spend most of the time in the past. there’s a sort of sense to that despite how tricky the past can be. my photos are all of things that happened. not one of them is of something that is going to happen.
i used to shoot mostly models. mostly nudes. mostly dark emotional bs.
i figured if i could get the shadow to cup the right breast the right way just once.. well, i don’t know what i figured but i tried.
but i got bound up in my own innards. i tend towards that sort of thing because i search for meaning where there is none. because i try to find ways to express a certain tone or shade of my idea of beauty and it all seems real at the time. but it’s a lie.
that’s okay. lies are food for the soul. which is also a lie (the soul, not the food part).
i’m mostly just writing right now because i’m bored with working on pictures and the doctors took away my sweet sweet love.
opiates.
this got away from me.
anyway. welcome. some people here come for the tits and ass. some come for the angsty writing. some come to find out what i’ve said about them. some come to support their bullshit beliefs.
i come because if i don’t the shit that spills out here starts spilling out in the ”real” world and no one likes that.
i won’t mind if you unfollow. or write anon asks about my anus.
i won’t mind one bit.
but if you do stick around. take some time to look around. there’s lots of interesting displays of me being a fool to keep you entertained.
and if that doesn’t work. boobs.
road kill.
5 dead cows on the side of the road.
feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of life today. the raw depth and breadth of everything just seems untenable.