Image-heavy post ahead...
I'm about a year late on this bandwagon, but I feel love pouring from the veins of Barbelith. Sweet, warm, sticky love. So here goes. Apologies if this errs on the side of catharsis.
CondensedthreeyearphotonarrativeGO.
On the left, with a friend who I was approaching about some film production work in early 2001:
On a photo shoot for a random project in May of 2001. Obvious which one I am by this point - the pretty one:
At a Rocky Horror Picture Show convention picnic in July 2001:
A random bar in New York, Sep. 9, 2001 - a magical time and place and possibly the best weeks of my life. I will always love NY.
Two days later, the very morning our flight was scheduled to leave, the world trade center was attacked; and two months after returning home a week or two later, I began showing signs of several autoimmune diseases which attacked my brain and connective tissue and left me crippled over the course of the next year. It wasn't until 2003 that I started getting out of the house again.
With my beautiful lover at her college graduation from OTIS in 2003 - without her I'd never have made it through the past year:
Grant Morrison & I last July - I doped myself up on copious amounts of painkillers and drove down to San Diego to talk to him. It helped.:
I apologize for the emotional underpinnings of my post - etching the narrative in digital stone (however minor) helps to 'tell the tale' a little - and aids me in seeing it for the transformative process it's been.
That having been said, it's also fun to show the transformation from virile young intellectual to fat hairy bastard in just six easy steps. If it helps anyone else on their way to fat-bastard-dom, then it will have been worth it. Korpulence is king. |
