I spent most of my month-long east-coast hiatus hiding in New Bern, the city in which I grew up and where my mother still resides. After a year of incredible chaos, I was really looking forward to nothing more than sitting down on a couch in bumfuck eastern NC, doing my work in solitude and hanging out with no one except my mother and my cat (I’m a long-distance cat owner until I can justify flying Raphael to SF), drinking Bailey’s and watching Oprah.

Of course, after a day or two I began to get stir crazy and began to contact humanity again, as well as take some photos of all you can really photograph in New Bern during the winter – myself, my cat, bear statues, and whoever happened to wander into my mother’s house. Enjoy.

I have spent the last two weekends tagging along with some ridiculously cute and happy couples… makes me want to barf sunshine just thinking about it.

I really couldn’t ask for better people to be honorary third wheel with. First round was with Kelly and Jim. I spent last Sunday with them shooting some engagement photos. I still feel like a total novice when it comes to shooting people… with a purpose or objective… the pressure is intimidating. But they were fun and cooperative and took lots of breaks to eat diner food and dumplings (in two separate meals). My kind of folks.

This weekend I found myself with my mother and her boyfriend, Barry Barrington (who I will always refer to by his full name because it is incredible), visiting from NC. It’s much easier photographing cute couples outside of any assignment whatsoever, as it was free and pretty much comes with the territory of hanging out with me and my camera, and they can’t get mad at me if they suck.

We adventured through the city on Saturday, then rented a car and ventured northward on Sunday. Lots of good food and good views. I was pleased.

Day1:

Somewhat relevant story (that I still need to tell Andrew):

After hanging out on the top of that epic hill above, we all walked down the path that takes us back down and around the other side, towards the Castro. I suddenly found myself quite overwhelmed with deja vu. I then realized I was in fact on a museum property that I had trespassed on just a year previous while vacationing in SF (having no idea I’d be living here a year later). It was the site of one of the photos I used for my grad school portfolio (that contains the Andrew of note). I actually wrote about this experience in my old mass-travel-email-list that I used to maintain before I started this whole blog thing in May.

An excerpt from July 2008:

Once home, I got a message from Dakota to meet her in the Mission.  We had a date.  Our friend Zack, who we met at the cookout my first weekend in town, had offered to take us out to dinner at an eclectic little spot called Delfina, on 18th and Guerrero.  Italian/American/French-inspired cuisine, big emphasis on fresh ingredients and innovative food combinations.  Sounds like my cup of tea. 
 
On the way to dinner, I pass Delores Park, and see a phenomenon I could have never fathomed – bike polo.  Really.  Like… polo.  On bicycles.  How awkward and amazing!
 
We all meet up at Delfina at 9:30.  We split a bottle of sauvignon, a sheep ricotta w/ zucchini, bitter greens with pancetta and walnuts, strawberry farm short ribs with gouda polenta, rabbit something or another, salmon something or another, and some sort of puff pastries filled with espresso gelato.  Jesus Christ it was awesome.
 
As we were finishing up, we were discussing things I must do before I leave, and Zack brought up the fact that Twin Peaks is one of, if not the, best view of the city.  So I say, “well, we should go.”  Zack says, “right now?”  I say, “Why not?” 
 
So Zack bikes home to grab his car, while me and Dakota head to Amnesia to grab a drink and wait.  Oh how I love this bar.  Yet again playing eastern-european-inspired-americana-bluegrass as I walk in the door.  We order a couple of their cocktails, all made with koju, a Korean vodka that seems pretty popular in the city.  Before we know it, Zack has arrived with his chariot.  We head out, but have one extra stop before we head to Twin Peaks – we have to go pick up his friend Andrew, who is visiting from Santa Cruz, and who has apparently been drinking alone at Zeitgeist for four hours after his friends left town.  Andrew is tall (6′8″ to be exact), drunk, and hilarious.  Oh my god.  He is one of the funniest people I have met in a long time.  And I don’t think it was because he was drunk.  He made it to my favorites list quickly. 
 
So we are driving straight up windy roads that should eventually lead us to Twin Peaks.  We quickly become enshrouded in fog.  We get to the top.  We can’t see five feet in front of us.  So… you can imagine the view.  Just fog.  We could vaguely see the few lone cars in the parking lot with couples in the backseats.  Not much later, a police car came by with a spotlight and said cars were eliminated pretty quickly.  So we hung out on the edge of the highest point in the city, but saw nothing.  We decided to drive somewhere of a slightly lower altitude and maybe catch a view underneath the fog. 
 
We arrive at some museum, whose name will remain unsaid (simply because I don’t recall what it was).  The property was sitting on the edge of a cliff and seemed to have a pretty good view.  Unfortunately, the gate to the property was locked.  Good for us, we are traveling with primate-like men who can scale fences and unlock doors from the inside.  So began our scenic trespassing tour.
 
I wish I had some sort of scandalous story for you, but no cops came, the dogs were not sent for us.  We just wandered around forbidden museum property and enjoyed a fairly good view.  We eventually tired of being bad asses and headed back on our way. 

Day2:










(PC: Barry Barrington)

In other news: I leave for tour today. BTW… I’m going on tour? I’m pumped. I’ve been having tour withdrawals for a couple of months now. I’m supporting Mark Growden w/ Alex Kelly, and representing Porto Franco Records. Best job ever? It might be. If you live in CA, OR, or WA, you should come see us. It would be neat. Just sayin’.

More on that as we hit the road. Until then…. END!

It finally happened.

The event I’ve been working my tail off for, along with producer Will Chase, Porto Franco Records, among others.

Mark Growden’s CD Release was Friday. The sponsorships were secured, the programs were designed & printed, the last promotional waves were complete. I could relax… sort of.

Relax enough to go receive my mother and her boyfriend, Barry Barrington (yes that is really his name) into town, as they were flying in from NC to visit for the weekend. I figured I could grab a quick fabulous German dinner with them at Suppenkuche, then head to the venue with time to spare before showtime.

(PC: Barry Barrington. Yes, I am aware that she looks like she should be my sister, not my mother. Let’s hope those genes translate.)

Well, I knew something ironic was bound to happen before the night was over. It just came sooner than I expected.

Long story short:
Head toward bus stop
Receive text message requesting that I find metallic sharpie pens for show
Ponder where the hell to find metallic sharpie pens
Run to Walgreens, find metallic sharpie pens
Return to house with pens to meet mother and Barry Barrington
Head to bus stop
Wait for 15 minutes at the wrong bus stop
Wait 15 minutes at the correct bus stop
Decide to call a cab, walk away from bus stop
Watch correct bus pass us as we walk away
Wait for cab in front of house for 20 minutes
Call to check in, as said cab is nowhere to be found
Receive information that cab has forgotten about us
Finally get cab 15 minutes later.

I arrive at the venue at 7:56. The show starts at 8. I still need to find my sponsors and give provide them with their well-deserved treats. This should be interesting.

Fortunately, I managed to find my sponsors prior to the set starting, and I settled down in time to catch the whole show.

The set was beautiful. The 350-person crowd knew every word. John Law (oh, you know, just the founder of Burning Man & renowned pioneer the SF arts scene as we know it) hopped on stage and gave a kind speech about Mark’s talent and quality as a musician and human being. It was definitely a notable night in the San Francisco arts community.

I happened to snap some photos from my seat.

Oh, and as for the sort-of-major career updates – I have been offered a position by Porto Franco Records. For those of you who already thought I was working for them, I wasn’t. I happened to be working on the same team as them for this event, which was a contracted freelance gig that I am EXTREMELY fortunate to have had the opportunity to work on. But Porto Franco seemed to dig the work I did, and want me to join their production team.

I don’t think I can begin to explain to you how perfect this job is for me. I will still be doing freelance stuff here and there, but this is a project I know I’ll be putting 200% into, because I absolutely love what they’re doing. My brain is on fire. I can’t wait to get this rolling.

So yeah, things are good. Really freaking good.

I’ll have more photos from this weekend coming up later.

For now… END!

After awaking from my 15-hour couch nap, I was onward to Phase 3 of my trip: hitching a ride to my hometown of New Bern, NC.

My brother was off work for the night and offered to tote me. He would arrive at 1:00. This would all be great, if my belongings weren’t strewn all over Raleigh.

Most of my luggage was stored at friend Sam’s house, which wasn’t of much use, as I hadn’t actually stayed there at all during this trip. As many of you know, planning while traveling isn’t really my thing.

It would be easy to swing by and pick up my stuff, but unfortunately, Sam was nowhere to be found. So Logan and I decided to go search the establishment most likely to find her in – The Busy Bee. I decided to call brother Kane and friend Erika over to meet us for brunch in the meantime.

We found Sam, and we found brunch. I got a key, and we were on our way to find my luggage.

Upon arrival, I spend a good five minutes trying to get in the front door of her apartment with the key she had provided me, but to no avail.

I try and try and try. Kane asks me if I am sure I have the right door. I tell him he is being silly.

I was definitely at the wrong apartment. I’m sure the crowd of people cooking out outside were a bit confused to see me try to break into two adjacent apartments, successfully entering the second one. I hastily grabbed my luggage and we were on our way.

After two hours of observing eastern Carolina’s brilliantly designed storefronts and billboards, we finally arrived in the homeland to find my mother and my baby catchild, Raphael, waiting for us.

Raphael was my partner in crime in Raleigh. He was my only roommate, and we were serious compadres. I gave him to Kane to babysit while I toured the country this summer, and he soon ended up with my mom in New Bern. I had all plans to fly him over to California upon my settling in, but as I predicted, my mother has become quite infatuated with him and is not so ready to give him up. For now, it is probably for the best, as I will probably be touring and traveling quite a bit in the near future… but I do miss him so so much. He is my precious white monstrous yeti cat child.

Raph apparently has a new fun habit of climbing onto the outside edge of the second-story patio, just for shits and giggles. I’m not entirely sure how he hasn’t died yet. But there’s not much you can do other than just let him do it.

Anyway. Enough about the cat.

My one night in New Bern was great. The three of us ate soup, sat on the porch, played fetch with Raph, and nerded out on our computers together until the wee hours of the morning.

The next day I spent my last New Bern meal at none other than Carolina Bagel (yet to find bagels that compare, even in San Francisco), then took a final walk around downtown with the family, shooting some glamour shots here and there. I’m getting them to work on their sweet model poses while I’m gone. All of us will be pros by Christmas.

(PC: Annette Stone)

Goodbye, North Carolina. I love you, but west coast is calling.