About eight years ago, my oldest daughter, Olivia made this sign for me and since then, I have kept the picture in my office. It serves as a reminder, motivation, & inspiration.

She was daddy’s girl. I remember those days well. Life is different now but memories always remain.

It’s been months since I left the planet that was destroying my life. Up until my departure, I questioned myself; is this the best thing for me to do. Should I walk away to prevent my children seeing their parents tearing each other apart. Should I walk away to save myself.

The answer may have been hard but it was for sure a yes on all counts. Walking away is tough but sometime necessary.

I was cautioned by several that if I walk, it may be a while, long while before I could spend time with my children. I didn’t want to believe it but the advice came to pass. It was true.

Being a father is complicated and I feel that we often do not get the support that mothers get, socially, judicially etc.

I NEVER thought that I would be one of those fathers that wanted to see, love, support, joke with his children but could not because of the other parent being an obstacle.

These last four months feel like fourteen. I’m looking forward to the time when this just a memory and I am embracing my daughters as I have since the day they entered this world baring my likeness, my blood, my name.

With all this said, trouble don’t last always and here’s a shout out to the men who understand the shoes that I’m walking in.

Inspired by a conversation I had recently…. I didn’t think protecting yourself from slander, harm and accusations could be considered “fighting like a dirty bitch.”

On this day last week at this time, I was sitting in my new space reflecting on the move that I made. A move that I NEVER imagined that I would ever make had you asked me 1 year ago but here I am. Almost single; wondering when I will see my daughters, wondering how they are doing, feeling, acting.

Today, a week after I left a world that was destroying me, I am feeling fine, OK, grounded in the belief that this overall drama will pass. Knowing that my babies love me, miss me…. As I feel for them.

The dissolving of a family is tough shit & it’s a great thing to have tons of friends and family here to get through this process.

On a positive note, I feel like I have wings now. I grew a little stronger. The seeds of poison, disgust and envy no longer shadow my every breath or affect my being. Interestingly enough, I did not realize how intense my situation was until I stepped outside of it for a few days and reflected then realized that happiness, comfort, peace & satisfaction does exist.

I will continue to believe in love, family, the black man, woman and child but now I have a different lens in which to view that from. A shattered lens making things seem like some kind of kaleidoscope. I don’t know. Maybe I’m silly….

There is so much more that I want to say here but I just cant, however getting this out was a relief.

Whatever the case;. Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about me. Baby! Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about me. Baby! Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about me. Baby! I’m alright & I’m a human being dammit.

This whole divorce process has been a bitch to say the least. Emotional highs and lows, mental highs and lows, energy highs and lows and everything in between.

Many nights, I felt like Leaving This Planet. Not in ways that are dismal or literal but I needed an escape. A spaceship. A hovercraft. A friendly alien to help me get into a space where I was safe from a crushing perceived reality.

For the longest, Kaye West’s song “Spaceship” was my theme song for so many reasons. Then I heard Mark de Clive-Lowe’s “Leaving this Planet” (vocals by Sharlene Hector) and I started crying (not like a bitch but close). This was some time in the spring of 2011 when my world started to experience change.

Sometimes, I would listen to “Leaving this Planet” on auto play repeat like I was the Rain Man or something. It calmed me. Made me wish. Made me…….

This evening while driving home, I was reflecting on the events of my day and “Leaving this Planet” came on the iPod. At the moment, I started driving a little slower to enjoy the 4:47 minutes of happiness that the song brings me.

Like most, I can use music as a marker for many events in my life. A life soundtrack if you will….

As time is passing, I’m only getting stronger.

——————————————————–
Mark de Clive-Lowe – Leaving this Planet

Yes! It’s true! I’m almost single… I haven’t shared this publicly before now but I am in the process of a divorce.

The last few months of my life have been fairly turbulent but I am committed to pull through this event.

2012 has a whole lot in store for me. The ending of many things & the beginning of many more… I feel ready for it all but that feeling comes and goes like the Dexter bus (Detroit reference).

On A Positive Note:

• My kids are pulling great grades in school.
• Three more months left of school and I will be walking across that stage and joining the Educated Negro Elite.
• My sister and I have reconciled and are back at one.
• My brother is out of the hospital and doing much better.
• I’m now a bowler. Well not really but I am really enjoying this sport. And I totally have to get my own bowling shoes because the rented shoes are NASTY.
• I still believe in the power of love.
• I look great in fancy man scarfs.
• I leave for Mercedes Benz Fashion Week in 2 weeks!

Blah…

Yesterday, I had a senior portrait session downtown Detroit.  Days leading up to the session, I was dreading the worse because I was not sick but something was up with my throat leaving me unable to talk off & on.

My voice sounded horrible but I felt no pain. Seems like since I got that flu shot, I’ve been having all kinds of body drama. I’m just saying.

Saturday, I met with friends and at the end of the night, my voice was GONE.  I woke up Sunday & the voice was still GONE but  I was not going to cancel my session because I could not talk!

I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it through but I was going to make it happen.

At the beginning of the session, I let the clients know that I was going to be doing a lot of whispering. It was actually kind of funny. I made it through the session with nothing vocally to spare.

I joked on Facebook that I whispered through my photo session like it was a Ying Yang twins video. Yeah, I got jokes!

On the way home, I was at a stoplight telling myself that I was not going to talk for the next few days to let my throat rest.

Also, while at the light, I noticed this uniquely Detroit liquor store sign. The sign actually made me smile for some unknown reason. Maybe it was the colors. Maybe because the sign was lit but it was in a vacant lot.

Anyway, I still cannot talk. Dammit!

Mercedes Benz Fashion Week is officially over & I survived the madness for five days….

This season for me was the best of the three that I have attended for one major reason & that is because I refused to let anyone or anything stress me out. This means that I got into no arguments with Italian photographers, I didn’t have to elbow anyone & I did not have to cuss anyone one out.

On the way home, I thought about how calm & reserved I was, which is totally not me.

Although I did not stress like in the past, I did have my fair share of incidents that were challenging such as:

- Twisting my ankle the 1st day of MBFW. A total bummer considering that photographing at MBFW means lots of walking & standing. When the accident occurred, honestly, I could have cried. It hurt like never before & walking on it was a bitch! A week later, the ankle is feeling better but not 100% so you know that I really messed myself up.

- Having my Nikkor 70-200mm f/2.8 lens die on me stemming from a drop months ago during a photo session. I noticed that it died moments before I was about to photograph the Lacoste runway show. In order to make it through the rest of the assignment meant procuring a replacement lens fast. Luckily, I found a replacement at THE only open camera store on Manhattan. I so did not plan on getting a replacement lens but I have to say that the updated version of the Nikkor 70-200mm f/2.8 lens is far more superior to its predecessor. Much faster, lighter & much more crisp. I guess it all came together…

- Losing my laptop charger. Luckily, the 5th Ave Apple store is open 24 hours!

- Missing several runway looks in six shows because my rental Nikon D700 camera mirror kept locking up on me. Fortunately, I keep a back up camera. And even better, when I returned the camera to Foto Care & informed them of the issue, they totally took care of me in a way that I did not expect. They have the best service and I appreciate their commitment to photographers.

- Losing my Metro Card on the last day & almost missing my flight after busting a cabbie who tried to rip me off by double charging.

Outside of the drama, I worked my ass off photographing twenty shows/presentations, processing and uploading images the same day & being in the bed by 1am.

Making my turn around time even better was the fact that my editor, Asia Willis and I were coordinating via phone, text and email as she was in LA whipping up our reviews over the weekend and posting on the spot. Technology is a beautiful thing!

Without the company & humor of my friends in New York with me, I don’t know if I would have been able to stay sane because after the ankle, I was like, OK. After the lens, I was like, REALLY?!!!. After the camera, I was like, I must have a Gypsy curse on my life (as I screamed loudly in my head)…

On an interesting note, my friends at The NYLA Report and I are already talking about MBFW in February as we continue to wrap of our coverage from the past week. It’s not that far away & we are going to be bigger & badder with fingers crossed for less drama or at least some fun drama!

To see images from that I captured on the runway at Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week, check here. For coverage & show reviews, check out The NYLA Report here.

The last two days of my life has been a mixed bag of good, bad and evil. I’ve been wading through these elements as carefully as I can but life is what it is. I was blue.

Wait, I wasn’t all that blue. Not as blue as blue could be but I guess still blue. A shade of “non-photo blue” if you will.

Shake it off….

This evening I took a test for class and while doing so, all I was thinking was just 2 more weeks until it’s all over. That’s good.

To ground me, I surrounded my computer with buds from my Rose of Sharon bush just to be all earthy & shit. It worked! That’s good.

Going through email tonight, I got the press release informing that the Mercedes Benz Fashion Week schedule for the upcoming season is on & popping. While reviewing the schedule, my blues were shaken as I had some great rememories of yesteryear. Fun times, drama, my pimp boots & meeting new friends. That’s good.

Anyway….

The bad and evil that I’ve been wading through is like some shit out of one of my… Nevermind. I’m shaking that off like hateration in a dancery!

When things are shiny & new, everyone wants a piece. I’m happy that Ted was “discovered” & I’m VERY happy that he is in recovery now but it’s a shame how it all played out for him under the media pressure.

Shame on Kraft, The Cavaliers & them other bitches who dropped Ted like a hot potato. I mean, come on, did you really expect that he had a squeaky clean past. Perhaps they should have did some background checking before they started sucking his dick & making offers because they wanted to look “nice & caring.” I’m just saying.

I’m hoping that Ted heals the areas of his life that were neglected for so long. While healing, I hope that the money/fame hungry vultures are kept at bay. Let a brother be successful the right way.

Now that I said my piece, peep this story I found on Good.Is.

“A Month Later, “Homeless Man with a Golden Voice” Is Abandoned by His Corporate Friends” by Cord Jefferson

“In early January, a journalist in Ohio came across a homeless man possessed of a “golden radio voice.” That man, as you probably know, was Ted Williams, and the journalist’s video footage of him quickly became a hit on the internet and television. Williams got a makeover seemingly overnight, and soon he was doing voiceovers for Kraft products, appearing in TV ads, and fielding an announcing job offer from the Cleveland Cavaliers. But then reality struck.

After getting into an altercation with his daughter, an altercation for which he was not , Williams was pressured into going into rehab for alcohol addiction by TV psychologist Dr. Phil McGraw. He then left almost immediately, saying he felt rushed and that the process (i.e. being broadcast on Dr. Phil live from rehab) felt “scripted.” Williams then checked himself into a sober living house for voiceover actors in Los Angeles, where he could come and go as he pleased, but where he still needed to submit to drug tests and promise to remain clean.

Eventually came word that Williams had long ago abandoned his nine children. And then The Smoking Gun released his rap sheet. Ultimately, it turned out that the man with the golden voice did not have such a golden history.

Alas, in the aftermath of his troubled second chance, Williams is still making minor appearances—the Los Angeles Times reports he was recently at a milkshake shop but Kraft hasn’t brought him back, his TV ads have been pulled, and the Cavaliers’ job offer has been reneged.” Read More Here…

Photo Credit: AP

As a self proclaimed Jesus impersonator, I will admit that I am not all that ready for the rapture this coming Saturday.

So far, all that I have ready is a playlist, some batteries, a new pair of jeans and a full tank of gas. Sigh!

From what I read, Jesus will be here at 1:45am Zulu, so if you’re not familiar with Zulu time, bitch, you better read up.

With that said, I will quote one of favorite my soulful house DJs, Osunlade:

“…As sure as I live, I know there is a Black Messiah coming.

The shadow of the spirit looms against the universal sky. There is a Black Messiah coming.

The son of the great Black father who watches the door of time. There is a Black Messiah coming.

His thoughts, they fill the air. There is a Black Messiah coming.

He is the one we have be waiting for forever. There is a Black Messiah coming.

He will love us all completely, there is a Black Messiah coming.

The spirit of Malcolm will walk again. There is a Black Messiah coming.

Bringing dreams that only Kings would dare to dream. There is a Black Messiah coming.

The man of all men he will be. There is a Black Messiah coming.

All people will be set free. There is a Black Messiah coming.

He will walk this barren land removing all children out of ignorance. There is a Black Messiah coming…”

See you on the other side!

The other day I received some feedback for something that I did recently. Not really a big deal because I always welcome feedback, but this feedback went in the wrong direction!  Everyone knows that good feedback should be thought out, concise, and constructive.

The feedback that I received was nothing that I just noted and it blew me out. Actually I was hurt. I slipped into a self-doubting mode and it lasted quite a while. I was so done that I called Cousin Dee so that she could talk me down and help get my mind right.

In the usual fashion, she made me laugh about it during the entire conversation, but every now and then, I would slip into that zone that prompted me to call her in the first place. By the end of the conversation I was good and moving on thinking that I can only do what I do; nothing else.

I’m hired because people like my style and the quality of work that I produce and of course everyone loves my winning personality. I’m not gloating but it is what it is.

So yesterday, I reviewed some information that got me feeling some kind of way again then I just had to throw my hands up like for real. I cannot win them all. No one can.

Last night, I thought about my reaction and realized that I let someone get the best of me over something that boiled down to bullshit.

My assessment led me to realize that… I’m an artist, and I’m sensitive about MY shit!

On another note:

- I’m done with my winter semester with two classes knocked out. The end of the tunnel is 1 year away! This time next year, I’ll be inviting you to my graduation ceremony… I’m so looking forward to being down with this chapter of my life!

- I thoroughly enjoyed the 1st installment of the PBS series “Black in Latin America.”

- My hair looks like a hot mess, but not in this photo that was taken by my friend Shades. It’s a hot mess in real life. Cannot wait to get it ‘did’ Saturday!

I met Damian Furtch last month in New York while I was at that Patricia Field party that I posted about recently.

When he saw my camera, he asked if I could take a photo of him and his friends. Then next thing I know, he asking me to take all these other photos. Jokingly, I said “this is not a photo shoot,”  but he was cool. After I took some shots, he asked for my card so that he could follow up.

Days later, he reached out to me via Facebook for the photos so I hooked him up.

At the same party that I met Damian, I also met Manila Luzon who posted on Facebook last night that Damian was attacked in New York because he was gay.

I was like damn! When I read the story, I was just like WTF! Where does this hate come from?

“26 year old Damian Furtch was on his way home from work at a restaurant late Sat night (Sunday morning), when he stopped off at a McDonalds in NYC’s West Village ( a predominantly gay area) to get some food. It was approx. 4:30 am. While inside the restaurant Damian noticed 2 men staring at him – giving him “looks” – we have all been there, we know what this feels like. It was late, Damian was tired, he felt uncomfortable and he didn’t want any trouble so he left. He was across the street, walking away while on the phone to a friend when the 2 men from McDonalds approached him and asked him “if he had a problem” before he knew it he was punched in the face by one man, then instantly felt another punch by the second perp, and then he heard it – “You Fucking Faggot”, the words as hurtful as the punches.

Damian managed to get away – but not before suffering a severe beating to his face – and head to the nearest hospital where the police were called. He filed a police report and the cops appropriately asked him if they used any slurs. Damian said yes “they called me a faggot.” Now these 2 thugs are wanted in connection to a HATE crime. Damian got 4 stitches and they have to break and re-set his nose.

One of the perps has a huge tattoo of a gothic cross under his left eye..it was approximately 2 inches…Damian will be going to the precinct to go through mug shots and the police have subpoenaed the video surveillance tape from McDonalds.” (Source)

I don’t know Damian, but when I photograph people, I feel connected to them in a way and more often than not, their stories interest me.

I hope that he heals from these physical wounds soon, while working through the emotional scars.

This world can be fucked up and sometimes I struggle to understand hate. It makes no since to me for anyone to consciously put that much energy behind something causes harm to others on any level.