Back in the Groove

An Ode to Hilary
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom

Back in the Groove

I went to bed at 2 AM, and set the alarm at 6 last night (this morning).

When it went off, I awoke dreaming that a friend, a friend who apparently is only a friend because it is convenient for her (i.e. I have something she wants), was repeatedly yelling “Have a Nice Day!,” “Have a Nice Day!,” “Have a Nice Day!”

I soon realized that it was my mind playing tricks on me, taking my anxieties and blending them with reality—the blaring alarm becoming her blurting.

However, as is usually the case, if I wake up in the middle of a REM state, my first inclination is to hit the snooze—which I promptly did.

I reset the alarm to 7 and closed my eyes again.

Apparently, I didn’t set if properly though, because a moment later the snooze setting overrode my somnolent intentions and startled me promptly at 6:15.

This time I got up, brushed my teeth, took a wee and then got back into bed, making sure that I had set the alarm properly this time.

Alas, I couldn’t fall back asleep—too much was on my mind, there was simply too much to do, and surprisingly, I was feeling alright now, despite the lack of sleep.

Thus, hence, therefore, I ordered myself to “get the fuck up,” and make the most of this restlessness.

And I did.

Over the next hour, I wrote a few letters, foraged through a dozen folders of photos shot over the first few weeks of November, and culled together what I felt were the best of the best. I edited this select group, and with this musing present them here and now.

After my daily vitamin, a little lo-chi (i.e. stretching, a touch of yoga and some faux tai-chi) , and three shots of espresso—I was feelin’ good. Let me tell you, it’s been a long-time comin’.

This is the first morning in almost three frickin’ weeks now that I can breath freely and haven’t been hacking up a storm. In sum, allergy-set bronchitis is a bitch. The worst part about it though is not the bouts of asthma and pain-wrenching coughs, but actually the stupor that the drugs stoop me into. Antibiotics, as well as the usual round of supplemental expectorants and such, cumulatively make me insensate and always adversely affect my performance, my vitality and my mood.

But now, I’m back in the groove again.

Sorting through my latest crop of photos helped me realize that despite all this, my assiduity, my focus and my persistence have paid off.

It almost always does, but it is often difficult to taste the fruit of your labor when you’re in the midst of toiling, sowing and planting seeds.

Nonetheless and allthemore, here and now, I feel good, I’m feeling wow!

And I’m eager to take on something big, something monumental again, something I can be obsessed over, something in which I can pour my all passion into—another book maybe, peut être a complex, multi-faceted project, an amalgam of photo, word, and people; and perhaps even just an insatiable lover, a spunky girlfriend, or merely a new muse.

Albeit, with the posting of An Ode to Hilary, my newest self-portrait , I’m not so sure the latter is going to happen.

Regardless, at least I’ve got my senses and my sense of humor back, at least I’ve got the balls to post such a self-effacing piece de résistance, at least I am again free enough of the pandering ego to accept myself and say, “Hey, this is me. Laugh if you will, actually I would love it if you did.”

This portrait was actually taken a few weeks ago, when I thought I was going to start the 365 project that is so en vogue these days. Alas, I couldn’t keep up with myself, for simply taking one good photo a day was a task too big for my britches.

Nonetheless and allthemore, I am posting this particular photo as an ode to my dear friend and inspiration Brooklyn Hilary. She is one wacky, kooky, and wonderfully zany gal.

And she well knows that I much rather project a more suave, controlled and debonair image. However, on occasion I will concede, if only for her, to being simply human and make fun of myself.

Besides, it is a good for the soul to succumb to some self-mockery every once in a while—keeps you real, keeps me humble. And God, knows I need to do just that a little more often.

Maybe, that’s why I got sick—to taper the exuberance, the narcissism and the natural spring of élan for a moment.

Yeah, whatever.

All I know is that I’m back. I’m feeling good, and I’m ready to take on whatever comes my way.

lorenzo

Masterpiece Portrait Theater (Il Teatro del Ritratto Capolavoro)

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Masterpiece Portrait Theater (Il Teatro del Ritratto Capolavoro)

MelaPela (Raffa & Giulio) kindly commented "Lorenzo, è un capolavoro.” (Lorenzo, this is a masterpiece)

For a moment there, I simply took another look at the photo of Nicky, blinked, and thought, “Yes, it is a very nice photo.” But then again, I am wholly biased because not only did I take it, but I love our youngest son very much.

But then it occurred to me, that in a way, perhaps this is a “masterpiece,” primarily because I feel it captures his personality well.

About to turn 5 on October 4, Dominic was born in the shadow of 9.11 in the year 2001.

He was also born in the shadow of his older brother Enzo, who is two and a half years older than him.

As a result of these two ominous events, Dominic did not receive as much doting, affection and attention as his sibling. It does not mean that his mother, Domenica, or I love him any less.

It is however an acknowledgement that he was not born as an only child; that we moved from Brooklyn, New York to Bloomfield, New Jersey a mere four months after he was born; and that the turmoil of the catastrophic events that occurred four weeks before he was born changed everything.

And, as much as 9.11 moved many of us affected be the tragedy to appreciate our families more than ever before, it also duly preoccupied us in so many other ways that often our changed habits cut in to the time that could have been spent at home.

Moreover, although my recent marital separation with his mother has been fairly amicable, I recognize that the fact that his parents are no longer together and that his father is not around as often as he used to be, have likely affected him in countless ways as well. They certainly have affected me.

Thus, I think, that perhaps this photo is a masterpiece, because it does reflect his personality fairly well—he has never been the aggressive go-getter that his brother seemingly has always been; and he has long seemed a tad more shy, less boisterous and much more reserved than Enzo.

Ironically enough, each child’s personality also seems to reflect that of their namesake parent, the one each also happens to look like most. Comparisons and comments have long been made about how Nicky’s complexion, eye and hair coloring closely match his mother’s, and how Enzo’s (Lorenzo, Jr.) likewise matches my own.

Thus, although during this photo session I encouraged Nicky to smile more, and I wanted him to move out of the shadows and into the sunshine more, much as his brother is apt to do, at a certain point it occurred to me that “This is Nicky,” and so I just let him be.

Albeit, I may not be proud that Nicky has received the short end of the stick when it comes to attention, I don’t feel guilty, I don’t regret our and my personal decisions. Both Domenica and I love our children equally and do our best to cater to and encourage each son’s idiosyncrasies, talents and qualities.

However, I definitely take pride in the notion that, seemingly, my portraiture skills have improved somewhat, so that many of the pictures of people that I’ve taken lately have actually captured a bit of the persona, along with the external beauty that I see in them all.


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MelaPela (Il Raffa & Giulio) ha commentato con bontà "Lorenzo, il capolavoro di un di è."

Per un momento lí, ho portato semplicemente un altro sguardo alla foto di Nicky, ammiccato, e ho pensato, "Sì, è una foto molto piacevole." Ma d'altra parte, sono completamente il biased perché ho fatto non solo lo porta, ma amo nostro più giovane figlio molto.

Ma poi è accaduto a me, ciò in una maniera, forse questo è un "il capolavoro," principalmente perché sento che esso cattura la sua personalità bene.

Di girare 5 il 4 ottobre, Dominic era nato all'ombra di 9,11 nell'anno 2001.

Era anche nato all'ombra del suo più vecchio Enzo di fratello, che è due ed uni semestri più vecchi di lui.

Come risultato di questi due avvenimenti sinistri, Dominic non ha ricevuto come molto stravedere, l'affetto e l'attenzione come il suo fratello. Non significa che sua madre, Domenica, o l'ami qualunque meno.

È comunque una conferma che non era nato come un solo bambino; che abbiamo mosso da Brooklyn, New York a Bloomfield, New Jersey un semplice quattro mesi dopo che era nato; e che l'agitazione degli avvenimenti catastrofici che è accaduto quattro settimane prima che era nato tutto ha cambiato.

E, tanto quanto 9,11 molti di noi hanno mosso ha riguardato è la tragedia apprezzare le nostre famiglie più che mai prima, debitamente ci è preoccupati anche in cosí molte altre maniere che spesso le nostre abitudini cambiate si è intrometsso al tempo che potrebbe essere stato speso alla casa.

Inoltre, sebbene la mia separazione recente coniugale con sua madre è stata giustamente amichevole, riconosco che il fatto che i suoi genitori non sono più insieme e che suo padre non è intorno come spesso come ha usato per essere, avere probabile l'ha riguardato nelle maniere innumerevoli.

Così, penso, ciò forse questa foto è un capolavoro, perché riflette la sua personalità giustamente bene—non è mai stato l'arrivista aggressivo che suo fratello sempre è stato apparentemente; e ha lungo sembrato un ragazzino più timido, Meno tumultuoso e molto più riservato di Enzo.

Ironicamente abbastanza, ogni personalità del bambino sembra riflettere anche che del loro genitore di omonimo, l'un succede somigliare anche a più. I paragoni ed i commenti hanno lungo è stato fatto di come la carnagione del Nicky, l'occhio ed i capelli colorando attentamente uguagliare sua madre, E come Enzo (Lorenzo, Jr.) uguaglia similmente mio proprio.

Così, sebbene durante questa sessione di foto ho incoraggiato Nicky a sorridere più, e l'ho voluto muovere fuori delle ombre e nel sole più, molto come suo fratello è adatto a fare, a un certo punto che è accaduto a me ciò "Questo è Nicky," e cosí io giusto ha lasciato è.

Quantunque, non posso essere orgoglioso che Nicky ha ricevuto la fine breve del bastone viene con questo all'attenzione, non sento colpevole, non mi rammarico il nostro e le mie decisioni personali. Entrambi il Domenica ed amo i nostri bambini e faccio ugualmente il nostro meglio approvvigionare a ed incoraggia ogni idiosincrasie del figlio, i talenti e le qualità.

Comunque, sono indubbiamente è orgoglioso della nozione che apparentemente le mie abilitì di portraiture hanno migliorato un poco, in modo che molti del le immagini di persone che ho portata ultimamente hanno catturato effettivamente un pezzetto del persona, con la bellezza esterna che vedo in tutti loro.


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Other portrait sets:

You Are My Sunshine

My Friend, Mia

Desiring, Courtney

The Sparkling Brooklyn Hilary

DJ Mixx Goes Boom

From Mud to Men

I'm always looking for extraordinary subjects to practice my portraiture on/with, so if you live in or are visiting the tri-state area of NYC and are interested in having me take your picture (or know of anyone who might be) send me a note.

Click HERE if you would like to receive e-mail updates whenever new lorenzodom photos are published.


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More stories, musings and poems about and written for my sons:

To Live A Life Uncommon

There’s Always Something (Ode for a Son)

Nicky The Brave (The Spine of Life)

Like Father, Like Son (a paternal self-fulfilling prophecy)

I Love You, Dominic

Three Familiar Faces (Lesson 6: If…)

I’m A Father (Designing My Little Architects

Just The Two of Us (Papa Loves You)

The Quiet One

The Boys (Collection of Photo Sets )

Lorenzo, Almost 40

Lorenzo, Almost 40
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom

Almost 40

A year and a day away from the Big 4-O, today I am taking it slow, playing hooky, taking a day off from work to celebrate my birthday a day early with my boys.

I took a few pictures this morning of them and of us together, and then decided to turn the camera on me.

Call it hubris, call it vanity, call it extra-intro spection, call it the man and his camera, that lover I have lived, eaten and practically slept with every day and every night for the last 10 months. It has been a wonderful affair thus far.

So tomorrow is “the birthday,” and a year from then I’ll turn forty. I guess that would officially make me middle-aged. So, what does it all mean? Must I berate myself for not being more accomplished, for not fulfilling all my dreams?

Regardless of these token sentiments that I’m supposed to drag myself through eventually, I actually had an epiphany of the opposite sort last night as I was slowing down and getting ready to go to bed.

Traditionally, much like I recall my father did, I have long belittled my birthday by relaying that I didn’t want to make a fuss. A small dinner with the family has sufficed for the last fifteen years or so. I really can’t remember the last birthday party had for me.

But last night I realized something very important. I was feeling happy to be alive, happy to be thriving on the brink of my middle years, and so it occurred to me that birthdays are much more than just blowing out candles, much more than just breaking open boxes and tearing apart yards of colorful paper, much more than getting drunk and being with family and friends to celebrate your personal holiday.

No, what I realized in full-force last night was that birthdays are meant to acknowledge and toast the birth of another wonderful life, another person who in full bloom, whom as a happy soul, can make the world a better place, if only with a positive attitude and a smile.

Hence, I’ve decided to actually wile away a day by celebrating my birthday this year - if only by making it known, if only by acknowledging how I’ve grown over these almost forty years and how with a bright disposition I’ve tried my best not to let time wear me down.

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post-scripte/correction: someone pointed out that i calculated wrong - i'm actually going to be 38, not 39 as i had thought. oh well, guess i am getting old after all.

p.p.s. If only as a note of amusement, this particular foto was taken in the men's room at IHop (The International House of Pancakes). Being a liberal arts major with an unusual major, international cultural studies, i was often tormented with the question, "So what are you going to do with that (degree)?" One of my good friends, Adam, surmised that I would end up working at IHop.

Alas, I never found employement there, but it has long been one of my favorite cheap places to eat.

Anyway, the boys and I went there for my birthday breakfast, we shared multi-grain, buttermilk and pumpkin pancakes all topped with fresh whipped cream and boysenberry syrup. Upon making a trip to the restroom I discovered this exquisite strip of tile and immediately knew I had to take some photos against it.

this foto has been cited at: cleveland rocks. richmond sucks.

for a full list of cited fotos click HERE.