?

Log in

Neverwhere is Everywhere

> recent entries
> calendar
> friends
> profile
> previous 20 entries

Saturday, September 12th, 2009
12:46 am - Um.
Basically, I'm just posting so I can try and get into ONTD? I know that's sad but y'all don't understand how much that comm makes me laugh. I have had the WORST two weeks and some days ONTD's gifs were the only things that made me smile. Trufax.

(3 comments | comment on this)

Wednesday, November 12th, 2008
6:51 am - Snapshots/3

Snapshots/3
Originally uploaded by Cassie FX

It was summer. A summer in Virginia, hot and sticky long before daybreak; mosquitoes buzzing by your ear, seeking out your blood as you sleep, drinking deeply as you dream, growing fat and slow as the sun rises; a house sketched in inky black shadows and secrets and silent tears.

I was ten. Long legs still unshaven, burned brown by days in the water, hair stringy and slightly green from too much chlorine, all bad bangs and first crushes and a fervent desire to swim out into the waves and never stop. I was scared of the dark, scared of the devil, scared of the rapture; scared of her, and scared of him, and scared of the dirty love they bounced off the air around them.

He left me alone with the babies that day. They were seven and six and four and one. She was at work. He said, "I'll be back in just a minute, I've gotta run to the store." He said, "Don't worry, I'll be back real soon." He said, "Stay in the house with the kids and don't answer the door if anybody knocks." He said, "You're a good girl." They watched cartoons and I bounced the baby on my knee and watched the clock.

Three hours. Four. I made the kids hot dogs in the microwave for lunch and dug a tablespoon into a tub of Betty Crocker frosting every time I passed the pantry. Licking it clean, hating it and him and myself most of all. Paper plates and paper cups and mouths stained Kool-Aid red, minute hands crawling all over the clock and my skin.

She came home and he pulled up right behind her in the driveway. Holding hands and collective breath, we walked outside. She shouted, he stood and tried to be still but he was weaving back in forth in the wind and her words. She slapped him, a sharp THWACK that reverberated down the street; people began to peek out from the neighbouring houses, half feeling sorry for us and half relishing the excitement breaking up the still afternoon.

He stumbled away, into the house, into their bedroom, into their bed. I sat on the curb, insignificant and forgotten, full of smallness and defeat. The bones in my chest felt as curved and fragile as a robin's breast, my heart beating so wildly that I felt each thud-THUD in my brain, sending sparks flying in front of my eyelids and clenching my stomach into an angry fist. The sky was impossibly blue; looking at it through unshed tears was like opening my eyes underwater.

A man came. He told me my father wanted to see me. I stood, brushing dirt and sand and cigarette ash off the seat of my shorts. I walked towards the house, every step a thousand steps, my feet ancient and ghostly. Every breath a painful catch in my side. Through the front door, up the stairs; the one second to the top creaked, and I avoided it. Their room was cool. The shade was drawn and there was no sunlight, only a pale rectangle of shadow surrounding the window. He lay face down in a lump on the bed, his breathing shallow and uneven.

He turned his face to me, tearstained and grey and old as whispering bones. Dishevelled hair stood like a crown of feathers on his head, his wedding ring muted and dead in the non-light. He said, "It's my squadron. They are going to do an experiment on us." Choking back a sob that must have tasted of tequila and Marlboro Lights, he said, "Nerve gas. It's nerve gas. They are going to put us in a chamber and we will die. We wil die, but it is for the good of the country."

He reached out a hand; I did not want this dead man to touch me. I screamed; a reedy, high-pitched thing that tore at my lungs and burned me up inside. I flew, down the stairs, onto the street, screaming and screaming and screaming. Drowning in it. Dying in it. Wailing at the underwater sky. She slapped me; hard, across the face, my cheek on fire, my saucer-eyes searching hers, searching beyond her, searching always. I found nothing.

Moments, hours, surrounded, alone. They said, "He's just drunk." They said, "The Navy isn't going to kill him." They said, "Let him sleep it off." My tears disappeared, my eyes as hot and dry as a desert bed. A cactus bloomed in my heart, its thorny arms encircling what was still good in me; it kept him away and pricked his fingers when he got too close. My sweat soaked shirt clung to my budding breasts and a mosquito landed on my knee. I watched it pierce me and let it feed. When it grew bloated with my blood I smashed it and wiped my hand on the grass.

And then I went inside.

(2 comments | comment on this)

Monday, August 25th, 2008
7:42 pm - Wow.
My kid just ate a plate of pasta and vegetables for dinner.

Then asked for more pasta.

He ate a bowl.

Then asked for more pasta.

And ate another bowl.

THEN ASKED FOR MORE PASTA.

I told him it was all gone, because I don't know, three helpings of pasta seems like it should be enough,  no?

current mood: amused

(2 comments | comment on this)

Saturday, August 23rd, 2008
3:47 pm - Snapshots/2

Snapshots/2
Originally uploaded by Cassie (aka LeFoxy)
*My memories are nearly all defined by one or two "snapshots" - the scenes I see immediately in my mind when I think of a particular day, or person, or moment. This is a project to try to translate those snapshots in my mind to actual photographs, with accompanying text explaining the memory itself.*

Age: 15-29

1. You were high school football and Spanish nicknames, notes in my locker and carpet burn on my ass and the backs of my legs. You were disappointing, and exhilirating, and we never spoke again after that weekend.

2. You were my first rebound, and when I broke your heart, you bled it all over your notebook, lined paper and frantic, fumbling words running together, chasing me in my dreams.

3. You were pine needles in my panties under blue October sky, possession and pleas and Sunday mornings at the altar. You were a year in my life, caught in the act, paying penance in bad TV shows and movies on a VCR that skipped every few scenes.

4. You were green eyes and a trailer with no electricity, a toilet that wouldn't flush, and my grandpa standing ten feet tall in the doorway. You were emeralds and Wal-Mart gold, older than the world and drunk, pissing down the side of your truck, flakes of tobacco falling from your lips, and her death finally made me see you.

5. You were the underbelly of a fish, white and soft, skin always cold to the touch. You were cheap rent and mismatched knick-knacks, a torn wedding dress and a ring in installments, a flight from my senses, a deer in the headlights.

6. You were flirting over steaming coffee in Styrofoam cups, secret calls from your desk to mine, khakis and cigarettes and six kids. You were steamed up windows, leather seats stuck to bare thighs, light from the Texaco sign spilling in and filling up the clear tracks my fingers left on the glass.

7. You were shout outs on the radio at 3 a.m., summer nights bent over the back of your tailgate in my driveway, lightning bugs and stars and your pants around your ankles, soaking up the warmth of the day left lingering in the concrete.

8. You were a Band-Aid over blue eyes, apartment pools and too big bikini tops, tongues and sweat and seedy nightclubs. You were too many boys, weed, and Princess Diana dying. You were warm fingers moving in time with the thunder, confusing and beautiful, and I loved you a little.

9. You were bad directions and a fat cat, a bed to sleep ten, Bud Light and stops and starts and driving home too late and too drunk.

10. You were Greek and tall and an asshole, pancake dinners and ketchup smothered fries, letters on purple flowers, never sent and never missed.

11. You were That Guy. Confederate flags and joints on the interstate, a scratchy blanket and the light from the TV burning the backs of my eyelids, me saying no and you pretending not to hear me, falling down inside myself. You were denial and secret outrage, razor blades and long sleeved shirts in summer, panic in the Taco Bell drive-thru. You were nameless, faceless, just a series of grunts and pushes and skinny legs that were stronger than they looked. You were my scarlet face and broken heart and I still fucking hate you.

12. You were my black-haired hero, saving me from myself for a season, the eye of the hurrican until you yourself became the storm. You were brown-eyed baby dreams, sleepy Sundays, Marlboro kisses. You were crazy-making and maddening, and I loved you so hard that it hurt. You were punching the wall, and throwing the phone, and holding my breath underwatern with my eyes wide open. You were learning that it isn't always enough just to love, you were letting go and coming back and letting go again. You were bad good-byes and worse hellos.

13. You were everything I never wanted - frat boy, Abercrombie, gel in your hair and gold chain winking at me from your collar. You were once or twice, old couches buckling under our weight, whispered hurry-ups and come-ons, waking up and blinking in the terrible light slipping in through battered blinds.

14. You were Florida, Christmas trees and Mexican food, my first approach, a phone number folded in a napkin sealed with a kiss. You were dogs that stood as high as my waist and soccer ball shaped rugs, deeply accented English and chains given as an afterthought.

15. You were on of those nights, too much dancing and drinking and daring. You were waterbeds and naked girls on the wall, sleeping in and waking up late for work, hurried showers and no hair dryer and men's deoderant under my shirt.

16. You were letting go of inhibitions, a taste of freedom, my first time away from home. You were Buffy and bodegas, old men in stained shirts lining the doorways in their folding chairs. You were Columbus Street Station and lions and autumn leaves crunching beneath our feet. You were the first miscarriage, a Halloween of blood, you were the Bronx in a blanket of snow. You were burning buildings and evacuation and sadness permeating the air, a constant reminder that I did not belong, you were concrete and skyscrapers and art and fire, and I was too far away for you to reach me.

17. You are everything they were not, and nothing that they were. You are love and life and you are Now.

(3 comments | comment on this)

3:47 pm - Snapshots/1

Snapshots/1
Originally uploaded by Cassie (aka LeFoxy)
*My memories are nearly all defined by one or two "snapshots" - the scenes I see immediately in my mind when I think of a particular day, or person, or moment. This is a project to try to translate those snapshots in my mind to actual photographs, with accompanying text explaining the memory itself.*

-

Snapshots/1

Age:4

When I was four years old, we lived two houses down from my grandparents. Their house sat on top of a slight rounded hill, my uncle lived next door, and at the bottom of the hill sat our little house.

One night, my dad came home, probably drunk, but maybe not. I don't know how often he was drunk in those early days, the bad problems came later. My mom was babysitting a little girl from around the corner named Lisa. Lisa bit her fingernails constantly, and her mom once washed her mouth out with soap in front of me. She had blond curls and blue eyes and my dad was annoyed when he came home to find her in the house. He shouted, "What the hell is she doing here?!" and in a panic of confusion, I thought he meant me.

I can remember my little heart breaking to think my father didn't want me around. I ran out into the night, tears flying off my cheeks, the hem of my long nightgown soaking up dew from grass grown slightly wild. The moon was just coming up and the trees seemed to reach a million miles over my head. I vividly recall the feel of clover between my toes, the tiny pinpoints of starlight wheeling wildly above me as I blundered through endless night. I was scared of the dark, but more scared to be in a house where my father wished me away, and so I ran on towards the light in my grandparen'ts garage.

I suppose my mom must've called them to tell them to expect me, but at the time it seemed like they knew the moment my feet hit the pavement of their driveway. My grandfather swept me up in his arms, and I lay my head down in the hollow of his shoulder and just howled. The flannel of his old work shirt took in my tears as my grandma fussed around us, patting my back and smoothing my hair. I'm pretty certain she prayed over me and probably asked Jesus to soothe me and hold me close. She may even have told Satan to get away from me; I was a child of God. At any rate, between them and Jesus, they got the job done and I was soon calmed .

Maybe I stayed the night there with them, falling asleep to the sound of my grandpa's snoring and the light tickle of my grandma's nails scratching my back as she so often did. Maybe my mom and dad came to get me and take me home. I can't remember the true beginning or end of the story, only the middle. That, and the enormity of the world around a very small me.

This is my first memory.

(2 comments | comment on this)

Friday, August 1st, 2008
4:23 pm - Want.

Want.
Originally uploaded by Cassie (aka LeFoxy)
Some days I just want someone to look at me like a woman again - not somebody's mother, not somebody's wife - just a woman.

I want someone to look at me the way I was looked at when I was nineteen, before the stretchmarks and the crow's feet and the extra 15 lbs.

I want someone to look at me and lust after me, to fantasize about me that night, to see my face and body engraved on the back of their eyelids as they make love to their wife or girlfriend or hand.

I want someone to shout "Nice ass!" as they drive by, to wink at me in line at the grocery store, to drunkenly proposition me at the bar in a sweaty nightclub.

I want someone to fall asleep dreaming of my hair in their fingers, my thighs around their waist, my nails digging in their back.

I want someone to imagine my tongue in their mouth, my breath in their ear, my body beneath them.

I want someone to want me, the way you can only want someone before that first kiss, that first grope, that first pinprick of reality that bursts the bubble of sweet fantasy.

But it's only some days.

(2 comments | comment on this)

Friday, June 20th, 2008
4:03 pm - OMG. I love this show.

(comment on this)

Monday, June 9th, 2008
12:19 am - Walking in Memphis.
Or, cliched titles FTL.

I'm having to take an unexpected trip back home in a couple of weeks to help out my grandparents. My Nan had carpal tunnel surgery months ago that still hasn't completely healed, and she may also have a pinched nerve in her upper back which is affecting her arms and hands to the point that she can barely use them. Seeing as she is the most fiercely independant woman I know, this is vexing her GREATLY.

Davey and I are flying out on the 23rd for a month. We go Edinburgh > Amsterdam > Memphis. Total travel time for the day = 16 hours.

....yeah. I'm already tired just thinking about it.

The happy news is my mama is driving up with her boytoy and my baby niece who is not so much a baby anymore. I'm going to try to convince my brother and his newly pregnant girlfriend to come up, too, if they can, so we can all spend the 4th together.

In other news, I did a mini-session yesterday and after getting the slideshow up for the client, received the following email from her tonight:

Hi Cassie, I was in tears when I saw the slide show the pictures are stunning. How long do you keep the originals for? I am considering buying copies of all the pictures for an album but wouldn't be able to do it all at one time. Also can I book you to take pictures of my two girls?
can I order package B. and have picture 1, 5, and 13 as the 5x7 pictures and picture 1 again as the 8x10? and an individual 8x10 picture of 11.
Thanks again they had a fantastic day and it was great to meet you and get the kind of special pictures i'd hoped for I really admire your work and its much better than a stale studio picture where it looks false.

That makes me happy. :D

(2 comments | comment on this)

Monday, June 2nd, 2008
4:36 pm - I'm Excited.
I just bought some rollerskates.

(comment on this)

Tuesday, May 27th, 2008
2:57 am - FYI.
Projectile vomit + staircase = a puke Slinky. 

current mood: ew.

(2 comments | comment on this)

Wednesday, May 21st, 2008
8:53 pm - Yeah, so.
I had this dream last night where I was in love with James Marsters, and we fought a lot, and then we made out for like,  five hundred minutes and it was so hot, and when I woke up all I was thinking of was this scene from Torchwood. OMG THE HOTNESS.

(comment on this)

Saturday, May 17th, 2008
2:56 pm - Sleepytime.

Sleepytime.
Originally uploaded by Cassie (aka LeFoxy)

(comment on this)

Monday, April 28th, 2008
12:26 pm - Wedding-y Goodness.
My freaking desktop is still broken, despite Colin having replaced the monitor, power supply, and graphics card. He ordered a new motherboard on Thursday night but it hasn't arrived yet. Gah! I'm going crazy. Thankfully, replacing the motherboard on the laptop seems to have solved the problem it had (power supply continuously shorting out, making it virtually useless) so we're able to work from it, but man it sucks going from a large, flat screen monitor to my piddly old laptop screen. ANYWAY.

I shot the Allison & Grahame wedding Saturday. I now understand why wedding photogs charge so damn much. It was a lot of fun but also a LOT of work. Sheona picked me up at 10 am so we could scope out the church and the reception venue. The day started off gross and rainy, but mild, so we were just hoping it didn't piss down during the arrivals to the church and coming back out. Luckily - or not - the sun came out full force during the ceremony, so I spent the rest of the day cursing the harsh sunlit conditions I was having to shoot in, joke was on me, LOL. I started shooting as the guests began to arrive at around half past noon, and took my last picture at 8:27 p.m. SO MANY HOURS. Next time - if there is a next time - I think I will leave after the cutting of the cake instead of hanging around for the speeches and first dance.

I am not going to start any real PP'ing on the shots until the desktop is back up since the color on my laptop is so funky, but I couldn't resist editing one of my favorite shots of the couple. The color will probably be off on y'all's monitors, but you can get the general idea. I actually invoked Dirty Dancing to get this pose! I felt very old. Heh.

The lovely couple:




I really did have a good time, though. Allison and Grahame are a great couple, and their families were really funny and friendly. I think I got lucky for my first wedding because I'm sure they can't all be this much fun! I would definitely consider doing another wedding, but I've learned a LOT from this one that I would need to implement in any future wedding bookings.

I'm sure you'll see more once I've done some real editing. :)

(3 comments | comment on this)

Friday, April 4th, 2008
12:05 pm - So nice.
When I got home from work last night, this was in my inbox:

Hi Cassie,

I stumbled across your site tonight and my what a find. Your pictures
are truly awe-inspiring.
I absolutely love them.

I can see that you don't have any wedding pictures included on your
site and wondered if you do shoot wedding photos? Our wedding itself is a
small intimate family affair. Would this be something that you would
consider.

Thank you

xxxx

current mood: cheerful

(1 comment | comment on this)

Wednesday, April 2nd, 2008
5:22 pm - My bb and me.


current mood: mellow

(2 comments | comment on this)

Saturday, March 29th, 2008
4:35 pm - So much hotness.
I love these lyrics.

(P.S. - Emily, this is the show I was at when I called you!)




Well I heard that it might be raining bed sheets and lover's words
Let's throw out the hotel comforter and hang the 'do not disturb'
Sign me up for the storm
I'll wear my suit for the shower
Cause I'll have you to keep me warm in the coldest hour

And when the darkness falls under your hair, there I'll be
And crazy is the forecast all week

Well every kiss, every hug is so light on that touch, delicate like a snowflake
Well I can taste, I can taste, I can taste, I can taste you all over my face
And everyone might find it foolish to not be counting on the sun
But your mouth is my umbrella now
Because I'm holding your tongue

And when the darkness falls under your hair, there I'll be
And crazy is the forecast all week

There's a good chance in hell
Like cats and dogs we'll be flying
[Forecast lyrics on http://www.metrolyrics.com]

And I'm no weatherman
But you are lightning, striking

Here comes that sun
Want rain
All at once
How it sing

In the midst of the morning pull up a blanket of a cloud
And await for the warning of another come down
Because the water is healthy for the roses in your cheeks
My well holds plenty for penny wishin' in your deep end
And when the lights go out, no doubt, with you I'll be

And crazy is the forecast all week

And if them rains should fall for sure with you I'll be
Ah because crazy is the forecast all week long
Crazy is the forecast

current mood: naughty

(comment on this)

1:36 pm - Damn You, Disney Channel.
I just spent two hours watching High School Musical. I'm about to watch High School Musical 2. It sucked me into its vortex and made me love it, dammit.

Plus watching Davey try to copy all the dance routines makes my whole year.

(6 comments | comment on this)

Tuesday, March 25th, 2008
11:22 am - Heartbeat.

(comment on this)

Monday, March 24th, 2008
9:17 pm - My favorite song today.

(2 comments | comment on this)

Thursday, March 20th, 2008
11:37 am - Engagement Session.
Just a quick one - this is one of my favorites from the day.



(1 comment | comment on this)

> previous 20 entries
> top of page
LiveJournal.com