Color Blind

Poi

Peyton — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 07:02:00 +0000

–”Would you like that gift wrapped?” The clerk from Toy Joy asks as she grabs the pink and purple “Twirling Poi” from my hands. The packaging is complete with an “ages: 5+” tag and a photo of a pre-pubescent girl, smiling and twirling the poi.

–”No…it’s for me.” God, the shame. I knew I should have waited for the orange and green to come back in stock. I couldn’t.

–”Oh…” The clerk begins to stumble over herself, trying to make the situation less awkward. She couldn’t.

–”I’m actually training for fire poi.” It was the first thing that came to my head. I had to say something to regain my validity as a man.

–”Oh, nice. I actually have friends in Boston that make their own chains for fire poi…”

–(Ok, situation averted. Just keep smiling and nodding, and you might get out of this toy store with some dignity intact.)

–The clerk continues talking about her friends from Boston, and finally hands me my purchase.

I take a second; regain my composure; take my pink and purple “Twirling Poi” in hand, and leave the store unashamed.

It was worth it.

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Music: Bob Dylan (Bob Dylan)

Thanks for reading. Comments are always fun. Questions are better.

The Fourth: Friends and Dehydration

Peyton — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 21:58:52 +0000

J–”Did you give me your money?”

P–”Yea man, I put it in the pot earlier.”

J–”Ok.”

(Pause.)

J–”Did you give me your money, man?”

P–”Yea man…I put it in the pot earlier.”

J–”Oh ok. Cool…cool.”

P–”Hey, can I grab your keys, I need to get my camera out of your car.”

J–”Yea sure man.”

(15 minutes later.)

J–”Oh, where did you get my keys?”

P–”You gave them to me, I had to get my camera.”

J–”Oh. Yea..yea. Cool man.”

(20 minutes later. Over the phone.)

P–”Dude, you need to turn around, you missed the turn. You need to go back to Bob Bullock Road.”

J–”Yea, yea. We’re meeting at Oasis.”

P–”Yea. You need to turn around, you missed the turn.”

J–”Yea man. Oasis. See you there.”

P–”No…nevermind. See you at Oasis.”

The Fourth of July+a boat+friends=ridiculousness…and sun burns.

Dear Retainer,

Peyton — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 07:35:27 +0000

I hate you.

Who decided it was a good idea to stick a metal wire stuck in a rubber mold into your mouth every night…for years?

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Music: Elliott Smith (From a Basement on the Hill)

Making a Vampire

Peyton — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 20:52:12 +0000

Apparently, the global recession has lead to a rise in the popularity of the idea of vampires. While I don’t particularly give a shit about vampires, it was pretty badass doing a vampire photo-illustration for the paper.

I received the assignment at 9am Tuesday morning and had to create a vampire by 8pm that night. At the same time, I had to go to class and shoot two other assignments. So I guess you could say I was busy.

Between HEB, a local costume shop, and stealing from my roommate, I scrounged up my raw vampire ingredients: teeth, make-up, Victorian shirt, hair gel and blood…lots of blood. Keeping in mind the fact that you can find almost anything in a newsroom, I easily found my models: Writer 1 and Writer 2.

That night, we basically just set up a light-stand and umbrella in an abandoned kitchen area near the office and began shooting.

Large Empty Space+Light-stand=Makeshift Studio

We shot for about an hour, progressively adding more and more corn syrup and food coloring to the models; by the end of the night, we ended up with two blood-soaked writers and a camera full of photos.

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Music I’m Listening to: AA Bondy (American Hearts)

Music and Emotion

Peyton — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 23:04:23 +0000

–”I still can’t listen to that CD. It just hurts too much.”

What is it with music’s impact on human emotion?

A pressure builds inside. Sad and slow. Losing touch with reality. Then I’m lost. This is where I am comfortable.

It is only sensible not to accept ‘reality’ how it is presented to us.

–”It’s a fact of life.”

No, there are no facts of life. Our perception of what life is determines what is and what isn’t.

But now I’m getting off topic.

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Music I’m Listening to: Damien Rice (O)

Perpetual Rejection and My Resentment of the Isolated Individual

Peyton — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 22:21:19 +0000

Recent Photos:

–“I bet you voted for Obama, didn’t you?” (Insert condescending tone here)

–(Awkward silence)

–“Yea, you did. Get a job!” (Slams door)

I am left alone on the door step where I take a minute to stare at the wealthy, two-story home. I take a breath; then move on to the next door.

Lather, rinse and repeat.

Welcome to my life.

Yesterday I quit my job as a canvasser/community organizer for a local, non-profit environmental group. Let’s just say the combination of the brutal hours, 100 degree weather, minimum wage, cop calls and lack of basic human decency was wearing me down.

Basically, my job was to go door-to-door, informing citizens about environmental issues, asking for contributions to the organization and generating letters to the governor on the issue. The tragedy is, most people wince when they hear the phrase “door-to-door.” You can imagine their reaction when I ring their doorbells.

Don’t get me wrong, there are supporters out there and people who reject you politely. There are even the people who can spin the phrase, “Get the fuck off of my lawn,” in a way that makes you smile. My beef is with the people who spin the phrase, “Get the fuck off of my lawn,” in a way that crushes your soul. Even when you tell yourself, “They aren’t talking to you, they are talking to the idea of a salesman,” it hurts.

I say, “Fuck that.”

I challenge people to treat others as if they were on the same team, even when it is inconvenient. We’re all human; that’s good enough reason for me.

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Music I’m Listening to: Conor Oberst and The Mystic Valley Band (Outer South)