because I'm a sucker for a pretty lady

and because it's her birthday, and because, well, what are friends for? I'm posting yet another huge batch of photos to flickr. This time though, I'm going to be smart and only post highlights here and if you want to see the whole set you can head over there by clicking this finely crafted link.

Sometimes I find that I know I have enough good pictures of something and yet I'm still shooting, something is knawing at me to keep going, and I don't really know why. On an "on" night, this means I come away with quite a lot of good stuff. This shoot was about 5% that I liked, and maybe as high as 20% that weren't crap, even by my standards. In a small party, that means a lot of pictures of the same people, and yet some people get missed, too. Sorry if I missed you.

Norman Music Fest

This is the 200th post here, and to celebrate, I'm being lazy and trying flickr's embedded slideshows. These are all from norman music fest, taken yesterday. Sorry it's flash.

Clearing off the card...

In anticipation of a monster weekend (Norman music fest tomorrow, arts fest tonight if I can get my ass in gear), I had to clear off the card in the camera, and because I love you all so much, I'm sharing.

No matter what I do to this tree in Lightroom, it's still just a tree. I still kinda like it though.

Polo.

Cookout after polo. seriously good burgers and salsa at the Murray's house. (sorry if I just butchered your name, Adam)

Trying to get together a mutant stretched bike. Don't know if they succeeded, I left for the Blue note.

Hipshot, this girl was in her own world, literally dancing to a beat only she could hear. Which is too silly, because if the music had gone with what she was dancing, she wouldn't have been half bad.

plan for the day:

1. Drink Coffee

2. Take mom to work

3. Shoot Pictures

4. Pick Mom up From Work

5. Come home

6. Blog

7. Drink/Philander/fall down/sleep as needed

So I finally got out and shot some yesterday, for the first time in three or four days. I don't know what exactly caused the slump; I've been doing a lot around the house, just sort of hanging out with friends, nothing terribly interesting. So I decided to do something with myself. Calling around to find someone to model failed, everyrone was either recovering from the weekend or not answering their phones.

Anyway, no pretty ladies in these pictures. I had the crazy idea to go way out on 23rd street yesterday, and along the way I was sort of pulled in by all the signs I saw. I'm going to have to go back and shoot some more out there; might do a photo-walk of the few miles between choctaw and post road.

This victorian house was out in the middle of a lot of mobile homes for sale; it looked more like a storage for unwanted uprooted homes than a sales lot.

I shot this mostly for the patch of light and the clouds. These tonalities are really difficult to get right on a screen.

Like I said, signs.









This last one was taken of the wig shop, much later at night. It's a really strange looking place. I have to remember to try to go in there when they're open.

lazy photo upload

I might do captions later.

This post is all captions

Went to the bike art opening, a lot of Norman scenesters and young parents in the crowd. The art was ok, the bikes were cool.
This was the coolest part: the fixed-gear as objet d'art. That and chris' paintings; my only criticism is I wish they were bigger.

This was supposed to be a bike theremin, but it was about 3/4 fail.
The jumps they were doing were pretty cool though.
This is Amanda. The next five pix are another unintentional photo essay. I was basically hanging out with her the whole night, although the background kept changing and some people came and went.

For example: After we left Norman, we went to Estrella and MJ's place. Very cool casa. I'm guessing this was some kind of decorative place setting.
Does this really need explanation? Seriously.
Outside the blue note. She says to me "You have your camera?" I say, "Of course," and she runs and jumps and lays down on the sign.
I know I promised five pictures, and that's because there's a story with this one. This was the hostess at a pary we headed to after the blue note. Shortly after this was taken, this girl grabs Amanda by the hair and won't let go, all for a jello shot cup thrown on the floor. We had a good laugh about that in the car, leaving. Then Reghan (who'd joined us for the blue note and after) shouts out of the window "We know where you live!"
This is a true rocker. Notice that Caitlin's entire body is in motion, except for the beer. Epic.

"Take one for the dudes of america," he said. So I did.

(insert clever title, I'm not feeling it right now)

Mom, looking at the clock. In the background you can see her dialysis machine. She had about an hour to go at that point.

So yeah, no posts for a couple days, been really tired. Actually, I'm still really tired, but I figure I should clear out the buffer of shit that's happened since the 6th and get on with life.

This is one of Reaghan's friends/coworkers. Funny story: she brought her sister, and when I took this, I thought I already had a photo of the other sister, but I'd gotten things backwards and then didn't get any of the other girl. And then I found five dollars.

The backpack is a big fail. All that shit doesn't make a bit of difference, it just gets in the way. The whole point of having a bag that you take everywhere is to take it everywhere, and I found myself leaving it when the opportunity arose. Too heavy, too cumbersome, etc. In related news, I miss having the tiny laptop. $100 for a screen, and it's back in action.

Emily, losing at pool. If I'd taken a picture of the next game, the caption would have been, Emily, winning at pool.

Speaking of money, my photos are finally up at sauced. The whole thing's been a pain in the ass, I've been lied to a bunch, but that's ok because now the photos are up and maybe, just maybe, I'll make a sale or two. I just had an idea- anybody reading this, please respond in the comments or in an email- What would people think if I sold prints from the stuff I put up here? Would anyone be interested?

Rachel and a friend.

Things are happening, sort of under the surface, but who knows when something real will come through? I'm talking about jobs and photo-work and the like. I'm in something of a dead zone, creatively. I don't know what to do except keep cranking away until the magic comes back.

Reaghan, after ladies night. She said if I posted this she'd kill me. Mourners please omit flowers.

Ok, time to sleep.

Just added a CC tag to the bottom of the blog. I had always meant to, but it slipped my mind until this business with the AP threatening to sue people for quoting, linking, etc. So you know that it is: This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Now back to your regularly scheduled blog.

really dig this.

The most dangerous person in the world. You, you scary motherfucker. Quote:

Security itself is an illusion. It is a perception that exists only between our ears. No army, insurance policy, hazmat team, video surveillance or explosive sniffer can protect us from our own immune system, a well-intentioned but clumsy surgeon, failing to look before crossing the street, an asteroid randomly hurtling through space or someone willing to die in order to do others harm.

for sale (ignore this unless you're interested)

Here you can see the rewind knob is a little broken. It still works, but isn't pretty.

Time for a new bag

This is one of those "the shit in my bag" posts, sort of. Way back when, I didn't carry that much, life was simple, and if there was anything I needed but didn't have, I could usually just do without it.

Things are more complicated for me now. I often find myself away from home for a couple days at a time, so the stuff I carry has ballooned a bit. For the last several months I've been using a "Metropolis" chrome bag (I've had the bag for years, actually, but I prefer smaller bags when I can get away with them). The problem with the bag, and shoulder bags in general, is that they're very picky about how they're packed- if things are arranged wrong, something's always digging into your back, and if they're full, they stick out and fit weird. Maybe I'm doing it wrong, but it seems to me that when you've got a lot of gear, a backpack is the way to haul it.

And actually, the chrome bag is the perfect size for the hardware I carry- my cameras, my laptop, the cords and chargers, etc. But if I need anything more, say a jacket, an extra layer of clothing, and/or a water bottle, then there's just not enough room to wear it comfortably. This was brought home rather painfully this morning trying to bike in a t-shirt with a wind chill of 30˚F. I made it from 23rd and robinson to 10th and broadway- about a mile, give or take some meandering and alleys. I could tell that trying to ride the rest of the way home from there would be a bad idea- a frozen matt mills can't ride his bike or take pictures or philander or any of the fun stuff. Beyond that, dying of exposure in the city with a charged cell phone is stupid. So I called my dad, and he came and picked me up.

I'm too lazy to make a list, and this photo is short my flask and some tools I can't seem to find, but this is everything else.

I'm a chronic couch surfer, a product of living in the burbs and partying in the city. That and all my friends live in the city. The best solution would be to move, and as soon as I have a job that lasts more than two weeks, I'm going to do that. (Remember: I'm available to photograph anything but weddings, even on short notice). For now though, I'm switching bags. Sorry Chrome, you're cool and all, but it's time to go back to my roots, a nice big backpack I've had for like 10 years. Stuffed very full, it'll hold everything I need for a week of hard travel- say, everything I'd encounter between here and timbuktu. As it is, I can put everything I need for a weekend of night parties and morning blogging.

The bag all loaded. Not too huge.

4 hours sleep... moving the banked track with the RDR roller girls... five hours of bike polo. Can't think straight. So photos.

I know this is from last night, and you know where to file complaints. I like it.
Moving party! With some beer.
Polo break.
Sparks run? what's wrong with this picture?

Grant plays with his new camera.
Erin:

Mesta park, rolling around, version 1.

Mornings like this one are why I started carrying my laptop in the first place. everyone else is fast asleep, but I'm up, can't sleep, and so it works out that I should be here, typing.

Yesterday was one hell of a day. I got up and made myself the perfect cup of coffee, Siracha coffee beans in the french press. Then I had another cup, the bottom of the pot, while I caught up on newsfeeds and twitter and all that.

And then this is version 2.

While I was chatting with Grant, I had a brilliant idea: convert my used cd's into a radio scanner. What use is a scanner, you say? Information about what is going on. News as it happens. Things to take photos of. This particular conversion was by way of the used record store, so I grabbed all the ones that were worth anything, and started to head that direction.

I got as far as my car, which I discovered was dead, and so I tried to start my other car (a mostly-broken mercury sable) and found that it too was dead. So I went back in the house, got my bike, and headed to the record store.

I get to the shop, tell the lady I'm selling if she's buying, and she takes my stack of cd's to examine them and make me an offer.

"$55?" the woman behind the counter offers, rejecting one. "Sure," I reply- it doesn't seem like enough, but I'm hoping to hit up a pawn shop and get lucky.



So the first pawn shop I go to, I have to explain that no, a scanner isn't the same as a CB. They don't have anything. I'm ready to give up on the day at this point, but as my path took me down reno towards downtown, I passed another pawn shop, and stopped in to see.

This was one of those slightly sketchy places, the kind that sells more guns and ammo than anything. That, and they have a large selection of used tools. I asked one of the guys behind the counter, did they have any scanners? He allows that they do, right this way. He one pulls down from a shelf which is mostly pistol ammo, a handheld that seems perfect. I turn it over and see the price: $69.99. He's gone off to ring up someone else, so I fiddle with it a bit, find out that it covers a ton of spectrum,and then when I get his attention, I ask him if he'll take 50 for it. He says yes, 50 plus tax, and so I say sold.

This was pretty much the entire crowd the whole time I was at Uptown.

From there, I go to fourth street and ride into the city. Beatnix for lunch, and they really do have the best hot roast beef in town. If only they'd get sourdough bread, it'd be perfect. I sat there after my sandwich was finished, and programmed in all the frequencies that the public services us here in the city- something like 35 channels in all. Then I have business to do.

The saga of the missing pictures continued with yours truly going to sauced and finding them still down, but Matty promised they'd be up by five, and that they were just moving things around, etc, etc. Which reminds me, I've gotta go back by there today and see what they put up, how it was done, and really if anything got done at all.



I killed about two hours then, playing with my new radio in the park. The thing I've heard on that thing already are hilarious and interesting and I think it might work out to be a good thing.

Dinner with Grant, Damaris, Timmy, Kolby, Erin, and this girl from Tulsa, can't think of her name, it might come to me later. Indian food, way out on 23rd street, really good, really filling.

Random dude. Every party needs at least one to liven things up.


Then it was time to go to the dance party, only there wasn't much dancing or partying going on at uptown united. For most of the time I was there, there were more people chilling outside than inside dancing. And I do mean chilling. It got chilly for this correspondent; I was only wearing a t-shirt, though.

Timmy, passin' out.

After waiting an hour and drinking all of my beer, The party still wasn't really going, So I left, back to rendezvous with Timmy and some of the rest of the gang; we met at Grant's, and then went from there to the former bike cave, where there was much drinking and cards and dice, and pizza and passing out also.


This was the pizza part of the evening.

The dog even got some.


There. That was my friday. Now I'm going to try to pass out for a little while.

Blue Note. Again.

At the blue note on a wednesday, although I started the night at McNellie's. It feels better to be making portraits, although I've lost all sense as to whether these are any good or not. I was just a little off the whole night (actually, for the last several nights) and I can't put my finger on why, exactly. Oh well, it'll work itself out.

Cat gives me the crazy eye.
This is a look that says "I can't believe I've run into my ex" and "How can I get away from him?" Trust me, I was there.
Cyrus does normal? is this a fluke?

Midnight bike rides part eleventy-million

Tuesday, I went out for a bike ride, just to get a little air, and ended up at the blue note, which has become my bar of first resort. I actually made really good time on the ride in, at least for me: 7 miles in half an hour.

When I got there, Chris was sitting at the bar (hi chris). Next thing I know, I'm doing an irish car bomb with him and Victoria, and the night rolls out from there. A couple beers and a couple shots later, we head back to Chris' house. On the way, I confirmed what I'd heard earlier in the day: my work had all been taken down from Sauced. It's gone, and I'm pissed. Fuck Sauced.

Eyeing a bolt-hole to attach the chain guard.


Anyway, we got to Chris' house, which he shares with KW, and I watched Lisa put the finishing touches on her bike. It's a cute girl cruiser, fashionable and functional.

The bike. Yes, I know it'a a little blurry, so was I.

Then I rode my ass home, no idea how long it took, but it was a pretty nice ride, except for the south wind. I always pass by this last scene, but for some reason early on April Fool's day, it grabbed me. Who cares if I look foolish? Nobody was around, anyway.