regulator

Monday has brought a swell of information on the NYC Public Photography & Filming Ban, including more general coverage, how far it has progressed and where to go to take further measures against the regulations going into effect.


bear arms © Laura Kicey


Two recent stories on the NYCLU's website:
City Agrees To Reopen Debate On Film Permit Regulations and NYCLU Calls On City To Abandon New Proposal Requiring Permits For Casual Photography.

A more recent article in the NY Times, covering the protest held last Friday night in Union Square by the organization spearheading the movement against the plan, Picture NY

You can send a direct message to the Mayor's Office of Film, Theater, and Broadcasting & NY City Council Committee on Cultural Affairs, Libraries, and International Intergroup Relations right online. Go HERE to do so!

The proposed regulations are outlined here [PDF] or you can read them at nyc.gov here

I wrote to editors at PDN and Popular Photography. PopPhoto wrote back to me to point out that today they say they posted this article today. I checked PDNpulse's blog and found it was worth a mention as well.

From Pop Photo: NYC Mayor's Office to Close Comment Period on New Photography Restrictions
The proposed rules would impose new permit and insurance requirements on photographers and videographers shooting in New York City.

By Aimee Baldridge
July 30, 2007

....According to the MOFTB Web site, the office "may determine that it is appropriate to revise its proposal" on the basis of public feedback. Comments may be submitted to Julianne Cho, Assistant Commissioner, Mayor's Office of Film, Theatre & Broadcasting, at jcho@film.nyc.gov or 1697 Broadway, New York NY 10019.

Thanks to all those who have signed/written/read and please help continue to spread the word. All concerns must be heard by August 3rd, including signing the online petition and letters to the Mayor's Office.

blinding

Very few things make me really and truly worked up, in the angry fashion. Just having recently gone to NYC this very week, news of legislature in the works to ban all photography and filming in public places without a permit being being obtained makes the bile rise.

While claiming that the average tourist or amateur photographer would not be affected, they also say that two people in the same 100 foot site simply holding a camera and talking to each other for more than half an hour, would be grounds for "enforcement". Should five or more people wish to use a tripod, they must do so in under 10 minutes, including the time it takes to set up the equipment.

A search for more information on the progress of this proposal leads nowhere fast. Mingling in with old stories about bans on MTA from 2004-5, I found only a couple of articles, most of which refer directly to the content of the NY Times piece (on page two of search results). Its being kept very quiet. The more I think about this unfathomable dissolution of 1st and 4th amendment rights, the more upset I get.

Looking at photography magazines online, I find no coverage whatsoever. Who can object to that which is not made common knowledge, or as it seems from what I've found, vaguely written and poorly documented? Go sign this petition. It sounds like it will be passed by the end of the month and be instated by the end of August. As someone who cannot picture my life without taking pictures any more, this breaks my heart thinking where it might lead next.

defamation of character

While I could turn this into a rant about how much I loathe New York City, Midtown in particular, how the very air around me makes me feel like I never bothered to bathe for weeks, how it is entirely impersonal despite the bucketloads of people, how it sucks my desire to make photos right out of me, and how just slowly walking a block seems to deflate the entire system as though one has just run a marathon.... I won't. Much.

Mr. D had some portfolio review meetings set up yesterday with ad agencies in NYC. And I tagged along with hopes of taking lots of photos and getting to go to the filming of The Colbert Report, and possibly Coney Island (before it becomes much less amusing).

Meetings, check. Wandering aimlessly, check. Falafel, check. Duane Reade, check. Anxiety, check. Skinny bored people, check. Getting violently elbowed, check. Colbert Report, check. (We were seated front and center and we both got to shake his hand. Was hilarious. Thanks again Mark and Shanners.) Mucho photos, no go. Coney Island, nope.

But there is still time. Walking back to Port Authority by way of 8th Ave, picking our way back to Weehawken, I saw Sean P Puffy Combs Diddy. And then I saw this:


flesh and bone © Laura Kicey

Midtown Manhattan. It never has a bad hair day. Its boobs never sag. But once in a while it forgets to wipe its ass. Gotcha Midtown.

Because I am in a state of little to do and too much time to do little in, I have concocted a poll!! A poll about YOU. Because I would like to know who looks at this drivel. I know some of you. Like Rob, Shannon, Q, Dustin, Addy, Dominic, Bruce, localyokel people I am friends with... Flickr people I have met, some I haven't like Karine, Rachael, Meera, Liz, Pierre. People who curse my name and shake their fists at the sky at the mention of it. Uh yeah. So go on. Tell me. Please? I can look at my sitemeter and it tells me some stuff. But my curiosity pulsates and grows. Help me out... you. And if you want to clarify, you can check all that apply or enter something else entirely.

hip hip

Replacement! It is official, after wrassling with web hosting, domain, and email account issues I was wishing I could erase, with the help of some last-minute fancy Fußwerk from Mr. Diamond D, I have launched a hassle-free brand new spanky laurakicey.com which will suffice until such time as I can get the site I really want (and have already more or less designed) put together.

I may, on a whim, start posting a blog lite there, as in, same text but only one image, as it doesn't have full blogging capabilities, but I am undecided (and haven't been shooting for a bit to test it... its too damn schweaty out to even think about crossing the street). If you are feeling especially loving, link to me!


handle © Laura Kicey

In other news I have forgotten to detail further, I will have a piece in the Muse Gallery's annual juried exhibition, the theme of "Words", one near and dear to me. One of my Violet Hobaugh pieces will be making an appearance amongst the other 14 pieces in the group show. The opening reception is on First Friday, August 3rd, 2007 from 5-8pm. The Muse is located at 52 N. 2nd Street, Philadelphia, PA 19106. If you are in the area and like falling over drunk people and sweating profusely Old City style, come rub my elbows!

reborn

So as we near the 12th of September, i.e my 30th birthday, I am hearing this strange noise, that probably, to other people sounds like tick tock tick tock.... but to me, my biological clock makes quacking, honking, and armpit fart sounds.

I've been having a wild rash of dreams about other pregnant people. And last night, we broke that mold... I had a child. Historically I never dreamt I had a child. I have never wanted children, ever, dreamwise or in the flesh. Nor do I foresee that desire rising out of my cold womb. Last night's dream was like the worst sex-shame dream multiplied to the Nth degree. I had a week old baby, one I didn't remember bearing... I had left it for three days somewhere in my house, I couldn't recall where, until I stumbled upon it in a stroller behind some chair. Though it was wrapped in a blanket and happy, I hadn't fed it, spoken to it, looked at it, dressed it, changed its diaper, or played with it in some days. And the worst part was, when someone asked me, I couldn't recall its name. I remember struggling in the dream to think of what I might call a child that didn't have any negative associations and I was panicked. I was suddenly thrust into motherhood for a nameless babe I somehow knew was mine but had no way of knowing for sure. So I bathed it and got ready to go to a fair while trying to think of a name. Feeling horribly guilty that someone might find out what a terrible mother I was.


shaken © Laura Kicey

I woke up with the same weird weight of guilt mixed with disgust. Its worse than waking from the dream where you are getting it on with your gross crusty coworker who you can't stand. I had a baby?!? And I forgot?!? I am the most horrible person!!


burial © Laura Kicey

Ahem. As you might be able to glean, not much has been happening. Certainly not the production of progeny. Not ever. I am trying to get (yet another) new website together. Submit to stock. Soak in the bath and hope I someday heal. Clean the house.


rhymed couplet © Laura Kicey

Mr. D's opening was this last weekend and it went rather well. I also sold a print. And I might be doing portraits for a woman I met who was wearing boa constrictors bravely around her neck. And I am the featured artist for the week of July 13th at Jewcy.com.

When something happens that doesn't involve bodily fluids, you, dear readers, will be among the first to know.

water-logged

It would seem from the blog end, if one were not prowling around my flickr, that I had gotten sucked into my growling wound. Part of my spirit has but I'm mostly in one piece, minus a goodly chunk. Which my doctor tells me he explained to me (while I was still in the anaesthesia brain melt state). So I spent the latter end of the week (two weeks back now) messed up on Percoset.... stumbling dizzily to the bathroom every four hours and then tumbling back into bed.


divide © Laura Kicey

The drugs were the first mistake. The second was attempting to go to work on the drugs. Friday morning I made it to work (the walking went very slowly)... and within the first hour I began to feel extremely queasy and went down to hang out with the toilet. The quease fell away after some time but concentrating on said quease left me kinda tired. So I went into the library and passed out on a chair.

Oops.

The next mistake I made was unintentional. My legs were stiff from lack of use, since I'd been horizontal for days. Percosets had done other things to my body that I dare not mention. I decided to go to Ocean City NJ with my friend and avid blog devouree, The Shanners. The Shanners never goes to the beach. So I opted to bring ultimate and full Down the Shore beaching experience to us... it had been a while for me too. We lazed in sand in the sand for a couple of hours. And watched the lifeguard pile up before us, starring one rather old gentleman sporting white hair and coordinated mustache.


all eyes © Laura Kicey

He was amazing and dramatic, the best of the people watching experience twenty feet away from our humble towel turf. For a change of scene we strolled the boardwalk, during which time, most of my stitches came flying out, unbeknownst to the stitch-bearer.


for cryin in the bucket © Laura Kicey

Upon finishing the length of the walk, we cut inland to find seafoods. We dined right next to the fantastically seedy Motel that Dustin and I had stayed at for Thanksgiving vacation tour almost a year and a half ago. The (C)Oral Sands. The charm lying in the neon sign that was missing the inital 'C'. Which they had sadly replaced. Shrimp! Scallops! Corn on the COB!


pegged © Laura Kicey

And for desert Pirate Mini Golf in the shadow of the most competitive dad of all time. He who could not actually competently play minigolf is struggling while trying to beat his four year old daughter who couldn't hold the club. After we exhausted the 18 holes of yo ho ho, we grabbed some ice cream and made our way home.


finial © Laura Kicey

The following day Ms. Beaver and Rachelle returned for a second round of fashionable shooting. Feeling rather diminished in spunk, I offered that we might shoot "around the house", i.e. the really gorgeous house I live in but have woefully neglected to ever use as a backdrop for anything.


pewter © Laura Kicey

In between knoshing watermelon and resting on the on my post-operative tuffet, I managed to turn out some things I was really pleased with even though I was feeling severely off my game. There is in fact one of Sarah that leaves me a bit short of breath (loud horn tooting).


pillar © Laura Kicey

So the doctor when I met with him last week said everything looked good, healthy, pink and fluffy as should be. Despite panic calls to weekend emergency line. I had an actual day without pain this week, which made me ecstatic. But it was shortlived so I don't quite know if that is on par or worry-worthy. Six months in, my positivity wanes furiously and frequently. So I continue to spend far too much time (but never enough time it seems) partially submerged in the bath water. Thanks everyone who has been dropping by and sending their regards. Its nice to know that even when I go all quiet, I've not been forgotten.

This last weekend my Brother of Michigan descended upon the familial home and I was asked to join in the excitement. Most of which involved me giving him new music tips and eating fruit. Which I received flack for from Brother in the form of: "Don't you have some glamorous activities to be participating in, instead of lounging about reading cooking magazines. Don't you have a reputation to maintain?"

With that I demanded that we take a drive to get lost somewhere Lancaster, PA. Heading out Route 30 in the cicada drone heat, we toddled behind slow-moving Amish-gawkers for quite some time until I took an unexpected unmarked turn off and we found ourselves Nowhere. I felt slightly shortchanged on this particular adventure, though it yielded a fraternal heart-to-heart and an unusually creepy sighting: a bull wearing some bizarre headgear (the like I have only found as antiques on eBay) that completely blinds him with plastic cups. Upon hearing our approach in the car, he started fuming loudly. I have never seen a beast so irate. As we inched the car away from him, in order to not continue to have all of this heavy animal wrath pointing right at us, he moved with us. We were separated only by a thin electrical wire fence. The photo is crap but it was certainly worthy of note. Amish seem to take far too much pride in maintaining their buildings and equipment. I was left hungry for rural decay.


reticula © Laura Kicey

Not far from these bovine visitations, Mr. D was shooting his second consecutive wedding. Our plot was to make a break for it on Sunday morning and hit the spectacular Williams Grove Flea Market that resides in the 3 years abandoned amusement park. It did not disappoint with its collection of wasted Pennsylvania Deutschy kitsch and typography.


swingers © Laura Kicey

The photography I am most excited about at the moment I am not at liberty to discuss the specifics of until September some time (but I can show you and be incredibly vague).


quiver © Laura Kicey

I assisted Dustin on a shoot and snuck in some picture-snatching of my own along the way.


drawing room © Laura Kicey

We met some phenomenal people and discovered some amazing oddities that might need to be further explored.... church lady millinery and singing chiropractors on stuffed animals.


communion © Laura Kicey