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Dec. 22nd, 2025 05:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seeyatPatriarchal domination hierarchies, like the one in place in the United States, tend to convince us… especially men… to see ourselves as better than others and worse than some. We perceive abstract insecurity as weakness instead of places for soft attention and education.
We still press on to achieve “betterness” without fully attuning with the pain that led us to believe we needed improvement.
Even when our inner music is screaming so loud to be heard and understood, we smother it… silencing ourselves and fearing for our very lives around speaking up because we noticed something alive in us that could alienate us from our communities.
We then choose the path that seems to compromise. I’m no different. I choose to be a photographer because I feel so alienated by my institutional history. I have very little relatable experience and therefore, I choose to feel vicariously… until I can formulate my connection in recognizable ways.
I know very little about cars and boats or engines and I see most competition to be a brutal disconnection from our truest nature and a sort of contortion of our collaborative nature which pits us against them… othering the opposing teams and even instigating violence is some vehemently supportive fans.
I still see the magical things people can achieve. I see the technological marvels and spectacular feats of expressive movement and engineering creativity. I marvel at them… I love them because I love the people who are making it happen.
I think we’re a very interesting species that holds so many shadowy, dark spots in our consciousness. We cluster together, believing some people are less than us. Some know different things and lived different lives and therefore, they must be “bad.”
We see people who express themselves differently and do things differently so we aim to punish and ridicule them into submission to our ways of being.
We smother our loved ones and segregate them from beautiful experiences just because we disagree with what we interpret of others. ...even when the only way to be a whole, happy human is to truly surrender to the beautiful world around us.
We call it love to cut people off at the knees or lock them in a room. “This is no life for them!” exclaimed over our silent chains and locks.
We kill each other… and we excuse is as ‘necessity’ or ‘forgivable’ because someone above us said it was righteous, then we slip into our neat little boxes with our beers, bowls, joints and gin… or whatever consumer products we chemically alter ourselves with as we stare blankly at pixelated screens just to “let go” or “relax,” having our feelings of sadness, panic and excessive joy pumped directly into us like animals being fattened up for slaughter… but we love it. We honestly love those addictions so much we’ll fight for them.
This is so messed up… why are so many of us unwilling to live? Moreover, what brought us to believe it’s okay to prevent other people from living?
Our very nature is meant to allow us to live, fuck up, adapt and heal… if we’re allowed to honor the security of aligned community.
I’ve been super interested in the kink community on so many levels. It’s not about indulgence but understanding. ...it’s tangible and observable domination dynamics playing out in real time. There are layers beneath all of it that we all lived, learned and started to emulate… not just “human nature” but that’s a very commonly tossed around phrase to excuse just about anything we’re conditioned not to think about.
I think the world is a beautiful place. I also understand that what we ruminate on become so deeply rooted that it becomes inescapable… so we must surround ourselves with love, nurture and acceptance before letting the most primal urges become complex consciousness.
Especially for those of us who observe things beyond the individual. I see strings, frameworks, systems, punishments, walls and inescapable patterns for people stuck in capitalistic nightmares and beautiful humanity trying to blossom through it all.
So… what value do I have? I have a wealthy-ish family who’s capable of supportive effort yet, even they are afraid of losing what they physically possess. They’re afraid of losing their homes, their toys, their lake house, their boats, their images and reputations… meticulously shaped and formed through carefully shared or secured knowledge and limited accountability.
Some societies are built on secrets, propaganda, intentionally curated explanations and slightly edited versions of truth in order to maintain support and retain citizenry. This dynamic also happens in families.
When we feel threatened, we hide… and hiding can sometimes me silencing the people who are speaking about topics that directly affect us or involve us… and everyone has different views on what’s acceptable knowledge because some people have let go of the need for showing off. ...some of us have accepted our humanity and fallibility; choosing to honor the healing journey of accepting our failures and looking on the future with kinder eyes and an open heart.
I guess I want to be those eyes for some. I just can’t see myself being allowed to embrace anything more than a capitalist consumerism lens… cars, boats, beautiful bodies… exactly what Bowie was freaking out about in I’m Afraid of Americans.
Johnny wants a woman… Johnnie wants to suck on a coke. Johnny combs his hair… Johnny likes pussy and cars. These things really reflect the United States and our contortions of humanity. Yeah, the lyrics are almost certainly out of order. From the first moment I heard this song, I appreciated the message. I just felt ashamed of it because I was a Boy Scout with a celebrated mechanical engineer for a father… a man who lived and breathed exhaust fumes and injected fuel directly into his own veins.
He created… as in literally conceived and birthed one of the more iconic American sports cars… the Dodge Viper and cared for the entire project and all its iterations as long as most people care for their legit blood children.
Who was I to hold issue with all that?
Do I? Wasn’t it the community that gave him his feelings of belonging and financial security? Isn’t the racing community responsible for most of dad’s beautiful experiences of celebration and ceremonious appreciation? He built and raced two rally cars still functioning today… he owns a number of boats and volunteers those boats to a group called the Water Warriors/Wertz Warriors and he bought a couple of Sea Doo jet skis from a performance toy business owned by one of the Wertz Warriors supporters.
Dad has built something he perceives and valuable and comforting for him… some place to feel all his joys and meet his needs for challenge and community. Yeah, many of them drink like fish, smoke like chimneys and live for the very essence of competition right down to how they communicate with one another; teasing, joking, jesting, prodding everyone’s decisions and claiming superiority… perpetual hazing. They obsess over sports and that brings them joy. I can’t fathom it but that’s what fulfills them.
I do love witnessing races and rallies. I’m not a huge fan of being on the water in the ways they tend toward. I could imagine living on the ocean or a river… surfing, canoeing, kayaking, paddleboating… slow and emotionally attuned things or human challenges instead of utter sensory bombardment.
...although I do love the concept of a couple of PWC/jet skis able to be loaded for a trip with waterproof and shockproof storage and gear. That Boy Scout in me does love that adventure mentality.
I just can’t find peace in the ceremonious repetition… it seems… ridiculous, even if it can be beautiful.
I could see myself finding safety and certainty in my small SUV or hatchback with a trailer hitch. I could see myself prioritizing more varied social events… I’ve enjoyed kink community gatherings packed with half naked and fully naked strangers just as much as I’ve enjoyed conventions and festivals full of overdressed people and performers or cosplayers.
These things aren’t on the water… I guess. I don’t know why I feel so safe and secure in those spaces. Maybe it’s because they’re embodying my deepest thoughts and that allows me a sense of comfortable belonging.
I think life is art, music, expression and connection. I think collaboration matters and competition divides us on fundamental levels.
Yes, it’s my perspective but it’s such a deeply and foundationally believed perspective that… I suffer when I feel an urge to silence myself or smother its expression.
This is why photography allows me a mechanism of connection. It offers me connection, celebration, emulation and reverence for all, no matter their expressions of self.
Photography matters to me because my subjects… the world matters to me.
We still press on to achieve “betterness” without fully attuning with the pain that led us to believe we needed improvement.
Even when our inner music is screaming so loud to be heard and understood, we smother it… silencing ourselves and fearing for our very lives around speaking up because we noticed something alive in us that could alienate us from our communities.
We then choose the path that seems to compromise. I’m no different. I choose to be a photographer because I feel so alienated by my institutional history. I have very little relatable experience and therefore, I choose to feel vicariously… until I can formulate my connection in recognizable ways.
I know very little about cars and boats or engines and I see most competition to be a brutal disconnection from our truest nature and a sort of contortion of our collaborative nature which pits us against them… othering the opposing teams and even instigating violence is some vehemently supportive fans.
I still see the magical things people can achieve. I see the technological marvels and spectacular feats of expressive movement and engineering creativity. I marvel at them… I love them because I love the people who are making it happen.
I think we’re a very interesting species that holds so many shadowy, dark spots in our consciousness. We cluster together, believing some people are less than us. Some know different things and lived different lives and therefore, they must be “bad.”
We see people who express themselves differently and do things differently so we aim to punish and ridicule them into submission to our ways of being.
We smother our loved ones and segregate them from beautiful experiences just because we disagree with what we interpret of others. ...even when the only way to be a whole, happy human is to truly surrender to the beautiful world around us.
We call it love to cut people off at the knees or lock them in a room. “This is no life for them!” exclaimed over our silent chains and locks.
We kill each other… and we excuse is as ‘necessity’ or ‘forgivable’ because someone above us said it was righteous, then we slip into our neat little boxes with our beers, bowls, joints and gin… or whatever consumer products we chemically alter ourselves with as we stare blankly at pixelated screens just to “let go” or “relax,” having our feelings of sadness, panic and excessive joy pumped directly into us like animals being fattened up for slaughter… but we love it. We honestly love those addictions so much we’ll fight for them.
This is so messed up… why are so many of us unwilling to live? Moreover, what brought us to believe it’s okay to prevent other people from living?
Our very nature is meant to allow us to live, fuck up, adapt and heal… if we’re allowed to honor the security of aligned community.
I’ve been super interested in the kink community on so many levels. It’s not about indulgence but understanding. ...it’s tangible and observable domination dynamics playing out in real time. There are layers beneath all of it that we all lived, learned and started to emulate… not just “human nature” but that’s a very commonly tossed around phrase to excuse just about anything we’re conditioned not to think about.
I think the world is a beautiful place. I also understand that what we ruminate on become so deeply rooted that it becomes inescapable… so we must surround ourselves with love, nurture and acceptance before letting the most primal urges become complex consciousness.
Especially for those of us who observe things beyond the individual. I see strings, frameworks, systems, punishments, walls and inescapable patterns for people stuck in capitalistic nightmares and beautiful humanity trying to blossom through it all.
So… what value do I have? I have a wealthy-ish family who’s capable of supportive effort yet, even they are afraid of losing what they physically possess. They’re afraid of losing their homes, their toys, their lake house, their boats, their images and reputations… meticulously shaped and formed through carefully shared or secured knowledge and limited accountability.
Some societies are built on secrets, propaganda, intentionally curated explanations and slightly edited versions of truth in order to maintain support and retain citizenry. This dynamic also happens in families.
When we feel threatened, we hide… and hiding can sometimes me silencing the people who are speaking about topics that directly affect us or involve us… and everyone has different views on what’s acceptable knowledge because some people have let go of the need for showing off. ...some of us have accepted our humanity and fallibility; choosing to honor the healing journey of accepting our failures and looking on the future with kinder eyes and an open heart.
I guess I want to be those eyes for some. I just can’t see myself being allowed to embrace anything more than a capitalist consumerism lens… cars, boats, beautiful bodies… exactly what Bowie was freaking out about in I’m Afraid of Americans.
Johnny wants a woman… Johnnie wants to suck on a coke. Johnny combs his hair… Johnny likes pussy and cars. These things really reflect the United States and our contortions of humanity. Yeah, the lyrics are almost certainly out of order. From the first moment I heard this song, I appreciated the message. I just felt ashamed of it because I was a Boy Scout with a celebrated mechanical engineer for a father… a man who lived and breathed exhaust fumes and injected fuel directly into his own veins.
He created… as in literally conceived and birthed one of the more iconic American sports cars… the Dodge Viper and cared for the entire project and all its iterations as long as most people care for their legit blood children.
Who was I to hold issue with all that?
Do I? Wasn’t it the community that gave him his feelings of belonging and financial security? Isn’t the racing community responsible for most of dad’s beautiful experiences of celebration and ceremonious appreciation? He built and raced two rally cars still functioning today… he owns a number of boats and volunteers those boats to a group called the Water Warriors/Wertz Warriors and he bought a couple of Sea Doo jet skis from a performance toy business owned by one of the Wertz Warriors supporters.
Dad has built something he perceives and valuable and comforting for him… some place to feel all his joys and meet his needs for challenge and community. Yeah, many of them drink like fish, smoke like chimneys and live for the very essence of competition right down to how they communicate with one another; teasing, joking, jesting, prodding everyone’s decisions and claiming superiority… perpetual hazing. They obsess over sports and that brings them joy. I can’t fathom it but that’s what fulfills them.
I do love witnessing races and rallies. I’m not a huge fan of being on the water in the ways they tend toward. I could imagine living on the ocean or a river… surfing, canoeing, kayaking, paddleboating… slow and emotionally attuned things or human challenges instead of utter sensory bombardment.
...although I do love the concept of a couple of PWC/jet skis able to be loaded for a trip with waterproof and shockproof storage and gear. That Boy Scout in me does love that adventure mentality.
I just can’t find peace in the ceremonious repetition… it seems… ridiculous, even if it can be beautiful.
I could see myself finding safety and certainty in my small SUV or hatchback with a trailer hitch. I could see myself prioritizing more varied social events… I’ve enjoyed kink community gatherings packed with half naked and fully naked strangers just as much as I’ve enjoyed conventions and festivals full of overdressed people and performers or cosplayers.
These things aren’t on the water… I guess. I don’t know why I feel so safe and secure in those spaces. Maybe it’s because they’re embodying my deepest thoughts and that allows me a sense of comfortable belonging.
I think life is art, music, expression and connection. I think collaboration matters and competition divides us on fundamental levels.
Yes, it’s my perspective but it’s such a deeply and foundationally believed perspective that… I suffer when I feel an urge to silence myself or smother its expression.
This is why photography allows me a mechanism of connection. It offers me connection, celebration, emulation and reverence for all, no matter their expressions of self.
Photography matters to me because my subjects… the world matters to me.
