rebuilding

March. That is when it is all going to go down. The strains of February are going to resolve sweetly.


passives © Laura Kicey

Momentous excursion to Carlisle last weekend which consisted primarily of visiting a warehouse filled to the gills with mannequin bits and having a killah time.


shipping and handling © Laura Kicey

It is entirely comforting to know that now that I've taken to chatting to random people while out shooting, its pays off occasionally. We met this chap at an Antiques market in Carlisle whilst picking over his wares. Talked about photography, whereupon he told us of the storefront he has filled with mannequins, directly in front of the warehouse he owns, likewise filled.


limber © Laura Kicey

His primary business was selling displays, purchased from stores that went out of business. Shelves and racks and bins and things


fragile © Laura Kicey

Made off with a lovely gold hand.


reliquary © Laura Kicey

And I got fake married! Wearing one of the dresses from the inventory of a bridal boutique that went under.


let's pretend we're married © Laura Kicey

I think Dustin's photo of me much more accurately describes the sort of gravity I felt about the situation.


choices choices © Dustin Fenstermacher

There was also some exploration of Shippensburg and Chambersburg which got us some mint chocolate chip ice cream and cold cheeks. One slightly wrong turn saved the day, stumbling upon the remains of a house near-collapse. Along with the promise of returning to a pasture with a tiny sun-bleached tree atop a stack of rocks, somewhere in the middle of nowhere....


drained © Laura Kicey

iconia

sideswipe © Laura Kicey

Yet another dirty little finger in another little pie. This magazine has first, a web element and later it will be printed. Two of my photos were used. The site went live today...


stepping out © Laura Kicey

hanging

There are of course dangers to writing when I am slightly incoherent from lack of sleep. Mostly: reckless babble and also returning to reread this and seeing every grammatical and spelling splatter. Even on a good day I come back to entries at least 3 times and find errors. Before the alarm went off this morning, my cell rang and it was a friend who accidentally dialed my number. I hadn't talked to them in months, but seeing as I fell back to sleep afterward, I have no idea what we talked about.


leah and rob © Laura Kicey

The week thus far has been filled with friends I haven't seen in a long-ass time. I went to see Low and His Name is Alive with a small posse.


lower © Laura Kicey

And a first: my super-low-light-perfomance-handheld shots did not all turn out looking like the contents of my stomach.


his name is alive © Laura Kicey

After the last show, as I wrote a few posts back, not particularly keen on show-going- the hit-or-miss circumstance of lighting and viewing, post-show deafness, the possibility of getting crushed bodily or cameraily by morons, and the completely awesome cost of tickets and time spent driving to and from venues... rarely added up to make it worthwhile. But I could, this once, justify.


low angle © Laura Kicey

So lastly and as yet unofficially, I have very likely won a contest which involves being part of a gallery show. A group show that will open in April, First Friday, in Old City. More details to come when I get the official word.


santori time © Laura Kicey

Tomorrow I am off to general void of Central PA to hang out on D's estate in the woods. 48 hours of freedom. Wee!

slice of life

This is January. Blustery cold, windy, sitting at work in the attic shivering because someone left their window open all weekend. Following sitting in my apartment, shivering and listening to my downstairs neighbors scream over the Superbowl. I've stood outside their door a couple of times and have noted that their normal speaking voice is a yell, which I appreciate frequently. Feeling I am a part of their every conversation while I am sitting alone in my living room makes me feel less lonely.

And much more angry.

I'm supposed to write this article about Ambler, my town, for Utata which I keep doing 'research' for but not getting into. I'm hoping that if I write about this article and talk about it enough, I will actually gear myself up enough to start the article (praying the editor isn't reading this). So far, not working so much. I want to center it on the asbestos factory, which I am obsessed with, but I'm not quite sure how to do so as, oh, hey, I'm not really a writer.


symphony © Laura Kicey

This weekend D. and I visited the grounds and bumped into a posse of happy paintballers with whom we made the verbal agreement to give each other a wide berth. Which meant us staying out of the factory and hitting the power plant instead. I nicked an etched window pane, the kind which I incorporated here:


calligraphic © Laura Kicey

I used it in a hand photo of Dustin I shot while on site, but somehow neglected to post (see the end of this post). I recently found out that a goodly number of people seem to think I photoshopped the bejesus out of the above shot or that it was some kind of composite.
Interesting. Not so.


cousins © Laura Kicey

I spent Saturday in my least favorite corner of the world: New Jersey. I met some nice people, took some appallingly bad photos, ate some monkey cake, and prayed I would not end up here.


icing © Laura Kicey

Mmmm. Winter blubber making. Actually, I have just realized, hours later, that this is actually February, my mistake.
I've also been spelling 'monkeys' as 'monkies' for 24 hours, at least, and I am deeply embarrassed.


rescue © Laura Kicey

maps

radiant gray © Laura Kicey

Two nights ago I had a meeting with the lovely Ms. Audrey... a night rich in conversation, revelation, and the general juicy girltalk. The article she interviewed me for is due to be printed in the April issue of the magazine. She is hoping to get permission to incorporate as many of my photos as possible and was hoping I would be inspired to create a self-portrait with my equipment. Which is making all sorts of things bubble in the same vein as my other 'becoming bionic' self-portraits vein.


blood poisoning © Laura Kicey

Yesterday I stepped out at lunch, strictly to cross the street and tap the MAC. Without my camera. And what should not come as a surprise is that I needed to go back and get my camera.


the cartographer's chair © Laura Kicey

Right now I feel rather helpless; I want nothing more than to help Dustin find a job that will make him happy and put him geographically closer to me. Anyone with information leading to securing a job in the greater Philadelphia area as an Events Planner: we need to talk.