So there I was, perfectly documenting the race, the Corporate Challenge, for Middling City U in the swelteration and the good people under the tent gave Yours Truly a nice straw cowgirl hat for sunproofing. I asked Laura, who works at MCU, if, with my bitchin' shades I resembled Kid Rock. Her reply was a weak affirmative. Saddled with approximately 30-40 pounds of gear, trekking to the start, course and then finish lines I nearly faded out. Me + Heat = Bad. Memory drifted to the sun stroke I'd had in the Phillipines, when I hallucinated that I saw a man's head where the pig's should have been at a roast one beautiful evening. The daytime found me splashing in the South China Sea, and then hiding in the shade - with SPF a gazillion all the while. Then I nearly passed out in a bathroom but not before spotting one of the planet's largest cockroaches and then was put to bed for a day and a half in the bedroom of the family I stayed with, wealthy enough to have a generator-powered AC situation despite brownouts. And, once I drifted back to non-dream land, the fever dreamscape, I discovered the Qu'ran on her bedside table and read much of it. She, a Muslim, despite the sweltering Catholicism of the island Luzon, and the family she was in. Like many of the rooms of the wealthiest Filipinos, the walls were mahogany, restive mahogany left to its primal coloration, like the walls now of the room where I dream at the edge of the Middling City. Time for volunteer biz, to help Jon et al set up for Music Is Art Fest at the edge of Allentown's own, history-saddled fest.

Edgey Love.

So apparently, whilst attempting a way-rad stunt of sort, nephew careened off his bike and shattered his forearm and elbow, resulting in several plates and screws to keep it all - theoretically - together. Rushed to hospital to see his post-op self, armed with a gift bag full of mags and candy. One of the mags is all about skateboarding so I penned in a caveat about trying this out post-hosp.
As he drifted into a morphine dream he sweetly said Peace out, Auntie.
Time to rush off and shoot a bunch of ladies having tea at the presidential manor of Middling City's U's Simpson et al.

Elbow Love.

Let Us say that this shall be filed under H, for Hardy Freakin' Har.
Middling City U gig this noontime was to capture the likeness, steal the soul of one Senator Chuck Schumer (of GOFORIT Fame), weeks ago highlighted within epinw, Your source for Perfect news, advice, tidbits tantalizing and fraiche.
So Schumer, as is politco wont, is missing. Then he appears, and so does his crackerjack team. I know one member of the team quite well, we sat on an artsy committee aeons ago. So he gives me the ol' kissonthecheek and then says You know, Nance, I just told X that if Schumer gets sick, I'm breaking your camera. There is a moment's pause, a quizzical aura hovering over my head and a near violent one to boot as who in hell wants to hear that one's trade tool(s) is being threatened. It takes me a moment to realize he's wryly reffing the Hillary moment, the ol' Gripping the Podium shot. He said, Well now, I didn't choose sides. And on and on and then I said a few words. I mean really. Wasn't that about one hundred years ago, wasn't it news, wasn't it an elected official in my sights. Onwards.
Made art today, this fine AM before the gig, all shallow depth-of-field wispiness I cannot divulge too much of. But let us say it is Perfect, it Rocks. It is going to be shown in a gallery in the Shiney Apple on Fifth Avenue this fine, pending summer.
I pre-rest on my pre-set laurels.

Love of laurels.

Have an op to go to Lollapalloowhatever this summer and the big question is this: can Yours Truly dig on a two-day rock extravaganza sans camera. Think Who can I get some creds from to shoot it so at least I'm not another sweaty pedestrian. Thinking still.
So art is afoot and it goes well, need to make several days to edit them all but there are actual story boards to remember what's on all the tapes.
Yesterday shot a wedding which was a good time, knew a lot of the guests so it made it more breezy than not and engaged in a conversation with two about the differences between the sexes - processing of info and all.
Steve S cornered me at some point, as he does, to ask a shitload of prodding questions and I know he means well but allright already I say to that.
Questions about where I'm on the map, so to speak.

Speaking of Love.