Wednesday, February 25, 2009

A Tale of January - an excerpt

The following is a scene from a one act play.

Scene opens in a coffee shop with ANGELI filling a candy bowl and JAMIE carving a pumpkin in the empty Starbucks. The couple have been living in the coffee shop for several months after ANGELI told JAMIE of her plans to break up with him upon leaving the shop. JAMIE is wearing the red jacket from Rebel Without a Cause, dressed as James Dean. ANGELI is dressed up as an old Hollywood starlet.

I don’t get why they can’t just call them small, regular and large. What is it, tall, grande, venti. Tall….

…It’s the most desperate holiday. It’s the beginning of the end and everyone gets one last chance to rush around and completely reinvent themselves before it gets dark and cold and everyone hibernates for the winter. People become Sailors, Policemen, Presidents, Batman, and Spongebob all in a desperate attempt to be something different, anything different. Only it’s all a lie.

Baby, just try to have some fun, and maybe you will. Check this out, who am I? (JAMIE pulls out a cigarette and does his best Dean pose leaning against the wall. ANGELI sighs) Take out your camera. Take a picture.

(ANGELI takes out a very nice manual digital camera and tries to find a good angle. She tries several different ones, and isn’t finding a good shot.)

The pose isn’t working. Try a different one.
(He tries a few different poses, getting more frustrated with each one. She tries different angles and takes a bunch of pictures. They look together at the pictures on the back of the camera.)

You’re just not photogenic. I dunno, I can’t seem to…

(very affected by the comment)
I know, I know.

God, its not really a big deal.

You don’t get it, do you?

Don’t get what? It’s a picture. So what if you blink, or have a weird expression? It’s a picture don’t worry so…

Do you get what it means to be not photogenic?

It means you look bad in pictures. God you always make such a big deal over the littlest things.

No. It means every snapshot of your life has something wrong in it. You’re smiling too much like an idiot, or your eyes are closed, or you just look ridiculous. I’m ridiculous. You look in the picture and you’re a little too fat or goofy or you’re drowning in a sea of peaches like it’s some surreal portrait cautionary tale. Why’d you take all those pictures of me at work. I hate them, and I know you do to. Not any more. We’re not stopping until I can look at a picture and... (Jamie gets angry and starts ordering her around.) Take that camera and make me look good. No make me look fucking great. Make Dean turn in his grave because I did it better. Stand there.

(ANGELI moves over to the spot where JAMIE pointed. JAMIE poses strikes poses hard. ANGELI takes a bunch of shots and doesn’t look happy.)

I don’t know you just…

SHUT UP! Your gonna take that camera and make me beautiful. (ANGELI goes to take pictures. Jamie walks over to her and grabs her wrist.) Take a picture so damn good that it makes you want to fuck me when you see it.

Don’t say things like…

…Do it. (He grabs her and kiss her hard up against the wall. He lets go and walks over to the center of the room and poses hard almost biting back tears.) How about now? Or now? Do you want me yet? Just make me... Make me. Make me. (He falls down, sitting defeated and crumpled where he was standing. ANGELI keeps taking pictures.)


Monday, February 16, 2009

Breasts - a short story

Leo was saddened by all of the sexism that had dominated American culture since long before his birth. Women held down for centuries as subordinate, told they were only worthwhile if they looked good, cooked well and kept a clean home. Ideals of womanhood reinforced by images of starved and primped Victoria’s Secret models making women hypersensitive about being looked at. He was saddened. Not by the moral tragedy of institutionalized inequality or the long history of oppression, but because he was born into a climate where women’s breasts were not considered a viable hobby.

He just loved them. Peeking out from red tank tops. Hiding in sweaters. Biding their time not so subtly under thin t-shirts. Out in the open. When his teacher talked about concentric circles in class he finally paid attention.

His love was as simple and predictable as a child’s love of candy but people would think it was objectifying and crude. Still, if it were possible when he grew up, he wanted a job that somehow involved looking at least once at every pair of breasts on the planet.

When he first started seeing breasts in a more one-on-two setting he naturally assumed that the ones he saw were representative of the rest. In Gilian’s back room she had small nipples that just hinted peeking out from the areolas. Ok, so that’s what they’re really like, he thought. When Tabitha showed him in her car that nipples could be big round nobs perfectly situated he thought, Oh my god they come like that too?

He didn’t hate women. He didn’t hold them below men. He just thought they held magic between their shoulders and their belly buttons. That didn’t seem like such a bad thing. He was more than slightly annoyed at how society’s course had impeded him from following his dream. Sexism seemed like such a waste of time that just got in the way. Didn’t they know these women had breasts? What were these guys’ problems? He thought for a second that maybe it was jealousy. That’s a shame he thought. Maybe there should be a parade. It seemed like it would be a tough sell to convince women it was empowering though.

Senior year of high school he met Beth. The two of them had a lot in common., mainly a love of Beth’s breasts . She loved them almost as much as he did. In the photolab at school she would pull his hand over them and squeeze.

“I hear you have a new girlfriend son,” his mom said. “How is it going?”
“It’s great,” he replied. “We have a lot of the same interests.”

Sunday, February 15, 2009

If you noticed that there's been a little gap since my last post, it's because I've been hard at working producing, a marraige equality photography project with Gideon Mendel.

The goal of the project is to raise awareness for the civil rights of LGBT Unions and the result are 13 beautiful love stories.

I've shown a couple here, but go to to see the entire set of videos.

They are moving, inspiring, funny, and so important to see and share with the Supreme Court hearing oral arguments about prop 8 on March 5th.

It would mean a lot if you checked 'em out.