the way that i fall

I wish there was a legit disorder for like kids like me who can't focus long enough to write one little paragraph in paper cause there is too much creative things to do. Or like you can't focus on reading that feminism homework or do other butt munch shit because there are too many awesome things to look at and awesome music to bang around too. (no, i do not mean that kind of bang) and create stuff. and do art.

ahhhh!

GOLD DUST.

i can feel my heart

breaking in front of you

 this is me

 im walking away

 i can feel my heart

 breaking in front of you

 so long

 i'm leaving today

fffff

back in the day...

seriously, this girl is as fun as they get. 

:) had so much fun this morning. 

4am is always worth it.

0hh d0uble exp0sures.

my ribs are so sore. i need help picking photo's to print. 

i want to go hang. yawn. fuckidon'tevenwannadothisshow!

merrrrrr.. 

thee best present ever. i will never take this off! (:

these are so gritty but i don't even care.

ain't go out like a sucka, no way

"it's not you. it's me."
yeah, really i don't know what my problem is. my dad says my hearts too big. too much compassion goes to the old and animals...not a lot left for bullshit, naw mean? whatever it is. 'ppreciate those stickin it out. or still sendin a text in the morning, checkin up on me when i just snuck out the backdoor last night cause a song came on and i couldn't hold my head up to it. or the one who'll remind them not to tell that joke or mention that story. 
i tell it like, i just don't make friends with those kinds. i just don't know how to figure out a females mentality. it's gotta be some mental blockade, or some self protection. maybe it's just bitchyness. maybe it's..fuck it, i'm not gonna analyze it. i said what i could and i couldn't do it anymore- so there that went. shrug and throw on some s.a. i probably am not making any sense to strangers but that doesn't matter because why have this for you. it's suppose to be for me. "it's not you. it's me."


tune: 





photo:

the world at large

I move on to another day, to a whole new town with a whole new way.

I like songs about drifters - books about the same.

They both seem to make me feel a little less insane.

Walked on off to another spot.

I still haven't got anywhere that I want.

Did I want love? Did I need to know?

Why does it always feel like I'm caught in an undertow?

The moths beat themselves to death against the lights.

Adding their breeze to the summer nights.

Outside, water like air was great.

I didn't know what I had that day.

Walk a little farther to another plan.

You said that you did, but you didn't understand.

I know that starting over is not what life's all about.

But my thoughts were so loud, I couldn't hear my mouth.

My thoughts were so loud, I couldn't hear my mouth.

My thoughts were so loud.

nyc livin

we're all scared, as death to die.

i wish i could write, and actually say what i want to say.

like none of you know me. or maybe just knew me.

i'd like to just say all the words that have been saved as drafts, over and over. 

it's so fucking tempting.

everything just wells up.

swells up, begging to get out.

part two

toning assignment. i did some research.

but most of all, i did a lot.

A LOT 

of experimenting.

total time working:

from 2:00pm till 9:00pm.

feet hurt? yes, much.

ohh...and i still have to mat, 

organize my little speech.

and own.

:)

 putting in the toning bath.

 water bath.

 experimenting..

 toning bath.

 

home-made drying rack.

Playlist for this post:

Poison Kiss - The Last Goodnight

Fast Car - Tracy Chapman

Symphonies - Dan Black

part one

apartment is clean. colors pop in the kitchen.
new reds, dark purples, soft browns, and simple blues.
toning is in process. there's grave desire to prosper.
grave concern of self explosion.
a darkroom created in a small sink.
an old clothes hanger holds finished tones carefully.
the photographs drip, drip, swinging slightly from the breeze through the open window.
the drips from inside match the melting drips from outside.
pounding together with the jazz rap playing.

Playlist for this post:

Miss Me ft. Lil Wayne - Drake

Superstar ft. Matthew Santos - Lupe Fiasco

We'll Be Alright - Travie McCoy

somethin's cookin in the bathroom.

shooting an end of august wedding.

it stresses me out, weddings. i'm not sure if they're my niche.

i'm sure the bride/groom/family's wouldn't like to hear that.

i put in my 110 percent. but preference, not sure if wedding is the way to go.

actually i am sure, i'd only do it for my enjoyment, preferably not hired. 
just there. just on location.

then you can purchase any images you'd like. 

wolf wars

yeah, it's still the dream.

i thought i didn't know, or wasn't sure. but i picked up a national geographic today and when i turned to this page....

i remembered why i wanted to be the one who documented this story...

people ask me a lot about what i wanted to shoot, and until recently i always said "national geographic is the dream, but we'll see."

then, i kinda lost that idea, but it's back, and i think that means something.

p.s. i'm on the wolves side.

guess we'll make it, regardless if they want us too or not.

dear internet,

you're usually slow, i appreciate when you're lively. try to keep it up.

dear drawing,

hannah really hates you. you shouldn't make her so upset, because then she's crabby.

dear wellness center,

i'll keep coming...for now.

dear weather,

i know it's wrong, but i want it all to melt, even if that means flood. i just don't want to be cold anymore.

dear you,

www.clairefiedler.com

i'm back.

video photo

sometimes i wish i'd gotten into film..then i watch the end of this video and i'm happy with my talent.

at minute 8; second 50, is where i'd like to be.

The Raddest Photo Trip Ever from Bobby Earle on Vimeo.

number one ::

let's see if i can hack this.

:: b l o g g i n g ::

i really like to write.

i'm a photographer.

cphotography2.webs.com

i like these senteneces: these fingertips are moving faster than these lips; you can imagine how jealous my mouth is.

instead of that introductory non-sense here's a fact list:

:: freshman in college

:: behind in my work

:: lake tschida child

:: female

:: eighteen

:: gotta have music "bumpin"

:: wanting a dog

i wonder if i could go back to old hollywood. where presidents dropped blonde bombshells instead of creating the perfect hell. the way we're living makes no sense, take me back to the age of innocence.

p.s. i love lyrics.

and,

i wish these picture's appeared bigger, someone out there must know the answer to that question.....someone?

i think that's all i can do for now..........back to work!

:: c e a f ::