shadyland: pop 1

The Eyes Have It

2011-11-11T18:46:00.008-07:00

Aww, look at that happy little eyeball!

In the last few years, while I have been struggling with my situation, and my depression... one of the saddest thing was to look into my own eyes. The loneliness was so clear in my eyes. They were dull and lifeless and tinged with hurt. It made it hard to even look at myself sometimes.

Now here is a photo that I shot yesterday. Yes I was showing off my new tattoo :P But I am accidentally showing off something else as well. My pure fucking unadulterated HAPPINESS. This is a picture of a person in love, complete and utter L-O-V-E.

Ain't it beautiful...? You know it is ;)

True Romance

2011-11-09T09:54:00.042-07:00

I had barely turned 21 when I met Dean, the guy of my dreams.

The meeting place was unlikely for a true romance: a cheesy nightclub in Juarez Mexico. But the conversation was fun, the chemistry was serious, and a bold kiss at the end of the night sealed the deal.

He called me early the next morning (a very un-'dudebro' like move... I always liked my men to be men, so this was very good indeed) It was on. And it didn't take long before we were madly in love.

a pic of us on our honeymoon at Disneyland, 1994, omg we were babies!

I don't know how to explain the way we connected so fast, but we did. Our bond was really deep. We got married at the courthouse, just the 2 of us, and no one even knew about it for awhile because we were keeping it to ourselves.

Were we very happy together. But we were also very young. And dumb. Immature even. Inevitably it led to fights of the dumbest kind. Fights over nonsense. We said and did things that hurt each other.

And then we split up. I always regretted it.

We didn't stay in touch. Both of us ended up moving around and traveling the country for a lot of years. And the years added up. The odds that we would ever find each other again seemed pretty slim. I never met anyone else who could possibly be my other half the way he was.

17 years passed by. We both went through a lot. But I never forgot him.

reunited and it feeeeels so goooood... I'm dating my ex-husband and loving it!

And then, 2011: due to the great powers of the almighty internets, Dean tracked me down! Holy moley what a shocker. I'm honestly surprised that I didn't have a heart attack on the spot (I'm old-ish you know!!) We decided to get together... to talk, and to lay the bad parts of our history to rest.

To make a long story short, it was really obbbbbvious once we laid eyes on each other again that all of those old feelings had never gone away for either of us. The first day we hung out, we spent 11 hours in a bar (barflys!)... just talking about anything and about everything. That was one of the most amazing days ever. I knew that I had never stopped loving this guy!

And now? We are back together and even happier than we were before. How often does THAT happen? One in a million odds.

these suckers are not ever coming off, por vida, baby!

Since we are not remarried (yet, that's down the road a bit), we decided to get these kickass tats of each others' initials on our ring fingers. I think the significance of that is pretty obvs *wink*

It seems like no time has passed at all. We fell right back into our happy patterns. But this time, with the maturity and experience and respect that it takes to be in a grown-up, for-realies relationship with another person.

And with a definite appreciation of what we found again together after 17 years.

hd= high def... he still gives me butterflies...

Maybe sometimes the right people meet at the wrong time? Maybe what we have is so intense that we had to be really ready for it? Maybe it was destined for all these years to go by until we got to this magnificent, lucky place, and reconnected? We'll never know. But it happens, people! Take heart!

And Great Odin's Raven, am I ever happy that we have been granted this rare 2nd chance at first love. So far, it's even better the second time around...

I love you, baby <3

Don't Tread On Me

2011-09-03T14:45:00.000-06:00

I used to choose my relationships so poorly, because I never felt that I mattered as much as other people did. It took me a long time, and some exes who treated me badly, to finally learn these lessons.

They never got me. They never will. There is so much more to me than what they saw, than what they wanted me to be for them. So much more, past the cowed, past the insecure crumble, way beyond the victim, so far beyond the pleaser, and the weak, tear-stained crier. Just so much more inside, that they never even recognized. Pity- them, they couldn't handle it. They never recognized my FIRE. And I do have fire. It may have been dampened but it never went out. Now it burns brighter all the time.

Past relationships, they were always so dependent on me being that girl... that ''fucked up girl"... so much more easily controlled that way. And for so long it seemed easier to just give in. But guess what, the girl was not quite as fucked up as they counted on. She finally learned, kicked the damagers to the curb, and she found a tiny little foundation... it was enough to begin building a life on.

The slightest hope, the smallest belief, that I was worth more than how I had been treated, that's what it took to get started... the realization: "I'm better than that, oh Hell yes, I am...." and so it begun. A life was built, by and by. And it was so hard. But I did it. And the right people found me when it was the right time and place, when I took a stand against being treated like trash and held those in my life to higher standards. I don't need the bottom feeders, the ones who yell, the drunken idiots without control over themselves, the insecure, the controllers, the egocentric. All I ever really needed was me... because yes, it's true, I really can take care of myself! Whatever comes after is a bonus.

I'm so much better now. In a place that can't be ransacked. No one to call me a bitch. No one to hurt me in so many other ways, or with so many other words. No one to hit me in the face, no one to leave their bruises on my body. No one takes me for granted anymore. No one to intimidate me. I have not allowed myself to be put down by a man, or made to feel inferior by one, or been called any names by one, for years now. Because I don't, and never did deserve that... whatever the case may have been. And I would never take that kind of treatment again. So I piss you off? Discuss it like an adult. Be calm. Keep your cool. DON'T HIT (or push, or grab, or threaten, or scream at) GIRLS. This is something most people have learned at a young age and it shouldn't have to be repeated.

They wouldn't understand this, of course. They can't. Nothing beyond the surface layers ever mattered to them. It was always about their control and their egos. About shaping their twist on 'me'. But they forgot that there was more, so much more, to a human being... and so much more to me. Oh well, they never had the balls to go there, to join me there, as equals, did they? They were more interested in being the superior party who always dictated everything, while I held off the rushes. And gave in, in every other way.

Well now, fuck that.

Life should never have to be that way. We all have that strength inside of us to stand up for ourselves and to be respected. I live on my own now, in my own place. And I do what it takes to maintain it. I am not some hanger-on. I do what I need to do to take care of my family. I will persevere, in that regard. Bet on that. I am not rich, money-wise. But I am rich in a million other ways, and money does not mean everything, it comes, it goes. What stays is what you are left with... and what is left of you. Don't ever let anyone mess with that.

It is more valuable than gold <3

Doll Parts

2011-08-30T03:39:00.002-06:00

It's been a loooong time since I have posted here. I know, I know! But I am going to try to get back to it. Since my favorite time-wasting video game has been down for days, I started playing around with Polyvore, one of my old favorite online hobbies.... well, it was a favorite until a boy told me that it was a dumb & pointless activity and I then felt dumb/embarrassed for playing with it... but upon revisiting it, it's totally not dumb and, is fun, artistic, and creatively challenging! Lesson learned: never listen to boys!

So here, I present a set inspired by Hole's fantastic Doll Parts... part babydoll and lace, part sweet and part twisted, and with a bit of 'cake' thrown in for good measure...

Doll Parts by heathershade featuring a bangle bracelet

TopShop going out dress
Low heels, $245
Juicy couture handbag, $390
Jessica Kagan Cushman bangle bracelet, $113
Margaux Lange heart necklace, £145
Carmina Campus star earrings, €130
Margaux Lange long chain necklace, £155
Halston Heritage wide belt, $107
Semi Matte Lipstick - NARS, $24
Hottopic - Search Results for nail polish, $3.99
Barbie™ ♥ Jonathan Adler Malibu Candle | Barbie Collector, $5

Are you on Polvore? Feel free to hit me up I love to see what others are doing with it! <3

Open House

2010-11-05T18:46:00.029-06:00

So things are a little hamster-centric around here lately.

Deal with it.

Ha ha kidding. But seriously... I do have a tinge of hamstermania at the moment. Getting to know my new hamster Angelina has been a trip, and has brought back memories.

When I was a kid I wanted nothing. more. than. a. HAMSTER! It was all I dreamed about.

And then, one birthday, I got one.

Here is a pic of me, all pretty in pink for my b-day shenanigans. I remember being extra excited that day as I was allowed to put on some blush for the first time ever. Yeah it was a little on the Baby Jane side. That's ok. I rocked it.

And so what! I had A HAMSTER!!

A sweet, soft, adorable hamster all my own. I would love it, and it would love me, and we would have lovely tea parties and it would travel around in my pocket and I would just snuggle it and cuddle it and pet it's fluffy little furs forever and ever.

Oh, it was all going to be glorious.

But alas, this hamster fairytale was not to be.

From what I recall, this man-eating hamster tried to devour a chunk out of my finger pretty much the very first time I touched it, savagely ripping into my flesh with it's razor-sharp hamster fangs and drawing blood. I cried and cried.

And thus my prior opinion of hamsters can be summed up in this classic little ditty here.

I never had a hamster again.

Until now!

As you guys know I was recently persuaded to adopt a very cute and wee little dwarf hamster, and have been getting to know her. Though I do still feel a little bit of (skin-crawling, paralyzing) fear when she gets near my (soft, bite-able) fingers, things have been going ok so far.

And in our most recent chapter of this new hamster journey, may I present to you... Angelina's new bachelorette pad.

Ta da:

And what a pad it is... everything a lil hamster could want in a pimped out hammie house, and it's all hers.

The elevated wheel not only spins, but spins around a track so that she can get that much-needed exercise. Did you know that hamsters run up to 5 miles per day? True.

(she also got a new exercise ball)

It's also got a groovy spiral slide. And a nice upstairs 'dining room' that I can easily access to hand feed/spoil her with treats and snacks. And seeds. And stuff.

Whilst hoping that she does not viciously sink her killer teeth into my fingers.

Ok now this is where hamsters have always gotten me- the facial expressions.

OMG.

Here, she was tearing up some soft new bedding to go inside of her little purple sleepy-den. Nothin is cuter than a hamster with it's cheeks stuffed full, d'aww.

Also, note that ridiculously cute teeny broom. No, she does not use it for cleaning her cage (as if!) And no, she is not an itty bitty witch and does not use it for transportation (ok, Ken? :P) It's for chewin'. And/or chawin'.

Hope that you enjoy your new house, Angelina!

All photographs copyright Heather Shade

Angelina's pasta dinner

2010-10-28T22:37:00.006-06:00

"Hmmm.... what is this here?"

*nose wiggle*

"Sniffsniff.... nibble........ hey... this pasta stuff is pretty deelish!"

Angelina loves pasta!

"Om nom nom nom nom nom nom....."

All photographs copyright Heather Shade

Angelina, you dirty little hamster

2010-10-26T01:05:00.000-06:00

Allow me to introduce you all to the newest member of our family.

Meet Angelina...

Angelina is a Winter White hamster.

Also known as a Djungarian hamster, Dzungarian dwarf hamster, Siberian hamster, or Sapphire Winter White Russian dwarf hamster... whew, that a lotta names for something so little!

As for her name-name... Angelina... well.... I am a big Jersey Shore fan.

There! I said it! And I am not ashamed!

OK, maybe a little ashamed.

Moving on.

So I was at Petsmart getting some supplies for my aquarium when a very evil, evil employee told me that they had a very cute hamster up for adoption. For free. And that said cute hamster needed a good home.

I tried to counter my inner squealing 10 year old by reminding myself that I had nowhere to put a hamster. And then I remembered that I had an empty aquarium. Dammit!

Then he brought her out, and showed her to me...

And ZOMG, she was too cute to resist.

I mean, seriously? Look at her.

So I ended up with a new hammonster.

I like how she looks like she is going 'nyah nyah nyah'... all sinister, like Snidely Whiplash, in this shot.

Since I can't afford to get her a proper habitat til next month, she has a ghetto little home right now... an old aquarium held closed with a bungee cord, with dollar store bowls modified into a wee 'house', and some toilet paper tubes. Heh heh. She seems to be ok with it.

When I can afford to, I am going to hook her up with a great little bachelorette pad.

Angelina hadn't been handled much by humans, so I started out with a glove. Because hamsters ARE SCARY!

"That's the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on!!"

Heh heh.

But she has been ok with it so far. She's still a bit scared & nervous, and she has harmlessly nibbled me a few times, more of a curious-exploration-type nibble. She has allowed me to hand feed her, and to pick her up bare-handed...

...aaaannnnd of course, she has also pooped on me half a dozen times (thanks, hammie!)

Fortunately, hamster poops are teeny, smaller than a grain of rice, and thus not too gross.

I have become way too familiar with hamster poops this week.

Though I never anticipated that I would become a hamster-owner, here we are. I love watching her and I think she is adorable. Those sweet, beady black eyes! That stripedy fluff!

Those itsy-bitsy little pink hamster 'hands' wringing each other!

I die.

We are happy to welcome Miss Angelina to our crazy, motley familia. And we all look forward to getting to know her better, and to getting closer to her.

Some of us more than others...

No, kitty, NO!!

All photographs copyright Heather Shade

cloud 10

2010-05-31T04:26:00.026-06:00

I love clouds. The End.

But not really. I love clouds forever & ever.

Here are some of my current faves.

Halp! Tha trailer park iz bein' being attacked by gigantical floating cotton candies w stern facial expressions! Halp! Halppp!

It's raining, it's pouring. The old man is snoring.

And who was this old man, exactly? And how sad is it that he fell out of bed? And bumped his head? And didn't wake up in the morning?

Now that's just not right. Somebody call CSI.

Racing the storm. Almost home!

But dang, that dark storm-cloud is honing in right over my place.

Figures.

One does not simply walk into Mordor!!

Oh wait, that's El Paso...

Same difference.

I sort of want to paraphrase that Pocahontas song about all the colors of the wind and all that good stuff right about now. But I'll spare you.

See how nice I am.

"I see you. I am watching you. I am the grinning jack-o-lantern storm face and I am watching yooou allll.. *cacklecackle*!"

Purdy desert view from an El Paso gal's back porch. Swoon.

BREAKING NEWS: random mushroom cloud spotted over Luby's... story at 10...

Hal! Ley loo yah!

HALLELUJAH!

HALLELUJAH!

Haaaaal... ley loo yah,

Hal... ley... yooooo... yahhhh... *coughcough snortcough*

I'm driving in my car, I turn on the radio...
I'm pulling you close, you just say no...
You say you don't like it, but baby I know you're a liar...
'Cause when we kiss.... mmm... fire...

Oh, El Paso sunsets. You are such a flirt.

down with the sickness

2010-03-01T13:59:00.024-07:00

Once again, I cannot go outside.

I have a chiropractor's appointment, and I need to get some shopping done. I really have things I need to take care of today. But instead I am sitting here with the door locked tight because it's happening once again.

First I start to shake, a tiny tremble that starts from deep inside... down in the stomach... it slowly builds, spreads through my limbs until they are trembling as well. My throat tightens up and it gets hard to breathe. The tears come, burning my eyelids. Nausea boils in my stomach. I try to control my breathing so I don't hyperventilate. My whole body seems to crunch in on itself, my spine aching, I double over. I hug myself in mute protection from my terrors.

I don't want to go outside.

Outside holds every danger and every terror imaginable. My mind races with it. Will someone hurt me? Will I hurt myself? What if I get stranded, sick, injured out there? What will happen to me? The dread mounts and mounts into flat-out panic.

This is the point where most people tell me I am over-reacting. Sure, bad things might happen out there, but hey! Someone would surely help you out! Really, there is nothing to be afraid of! Your fears are unfounded!

Except that they're not. I think back to the awful day, years ago, in New Jersey... when I had no car, no friends, no help... and my beloved cat Tiger went into diabetic shock... I hustled him into a carrier and started running down the street, trying to get him to a vet before I lost him. In a strange city, a strange state, a strange neighborhood, I had blocks and blocks to run but I kept going. The carrier was heavy, my lungs were giving out, and I started to go into the panic. Things got blurry. The world tilted. Still, I kept running on. A big crack in the sidewalk blindsided me and I tripped, slamming onto the ground... my pants ripped, knees shred... my head spinning, can't breathe. The carrier lying sideways on the ground next to me. I'm try to get up but I can't, I am paralyzed, it is all that I can do to breathe because my chest and throat are locked up.

This is the part where the good Samaritan is supposed to come along, right? Only, they didn't. As I lay broken, bleeding, and struggling for breath on a cracked sidewalk, a thousand cars whizzed by me 6 feet away on the street. Some even slowed down to gawk at me. I was mouthing wordlessly, breathlessly, for help. Not one single car stopped. Not one single pedestrian came to help. They just flowed around me, looking down at me before moving along. I must have laid there for about 10 minutes before I could get up and continue on. I knew then that I could have died right there on that street, and none of those people would have helped me, or even cared.

And I have had this experience countless in my life. Like the time when my truck broke down at a busy local intersection... smoke billowing out from under the hood... and dozens of cars passing me by, honking at me, and even angrily screaming at me for blocking traffic, throwing me the finger. Or the time when a guy got violently drunk one night and started choking me and pushing me down onto the hood of a car, right on the street, and I called out for help while countless people just walked by and did nothing. I have never been 'saved' or even helped. I have been taught the lesson by life, over and over, that if anything bad happens to me out there, I am completely on my own.

Those are the big scary things. Then there are the small agonies.

The agonies of random strangers out in the grocery store, at the bars, on the street who make fun of my physical scars.... pointing and laughing right in my face. The agonies of intimacy and betrayal, like the many, many, many 'friends' I have had who cheated with my boyfriends, turned on me, lied to me, or just abandoned me completely. The agonies of the bully squad here in El Paso, that group of 'popular' people who hang out at certain bars and events and who- even though we are far from high school days- still spread completely made-up rumors about me, make fun of me, and still send me messages threatening to beat me up if they see me anywhere.

And what about the other things... the intense fear I have that anyone I see out there, outside, in the random crowds, could be anyone... serial killer, maniac, someone out to do serious harm...? This is where they tell me, 'Oh you can't think that way, you're just being paranoid... do you know how rare the chance that you will randomly run into a maniacal killer are??" *scoff* Except... I have run into killers. I had a friend murdered by a serial killer when I was 13. My own sister was murdered in her own home by a guy she randomly met. I was once targeted by an alleged killer who was found by the FBI to have photos of me that he downloaded from the internet hanging in his torture trailer. And I have also been assaulted by strangers on the street, and in my own home.

In none of these instances have I ever had another human being come to my aid. I have been in situations where I literally screamed for help and nobody cared. Life has taught me, over and over by experience, that everything outside of my highly-controlled safety zone is, at best, ripe for dealing out the pain, and at worst, potentially life-threatening. And this was a lesson learned at a very young age. I will never forget the years of physical and mental abuse we endured at the hands of a violent, drunk stepfather, and how not one person in the family ever stepped in to help us... even though we children were crying for help.

In my years of cognitive behavioral therapy, my therapists encouraged me to get out of the house and to do the things that I feared. The point being that when I see that my fears are unfounded, they will start to fade away. Instead, every time I pushed myself to do just that, yet another terrible thing would happen to me to reinforce the opposite theory- that I was right to be afraid. It got to the point where even my therapists saw that this was only making things worse and they were helpless to change it.

So now I live on medication. The pills give me my breath back when I can't breathe, but they don't erase the horrors of the memories in my mind. The pills lower my blood pressure, but they don't stop the nightmares. The pills calm my panic attacks, but they do not make me feel safe.

Is it surprising that I have been living all these years with debilitating extreme social anxiety, clinical depression, panic attacks, and PTSD? My life experience pretty much guaranteed it.

And now I get to dwell with it for the rest of my life.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

I appreciate you guys reading this, and please do not take it as a total negative... I just needed to vent. Despite my disabilities I am always striving for a happy life and I won't ever stop doing that. Sometimes though, you just need to get stuff off of your chest. So thanks for listening.

Anyone else out there who is going through these issues, I promise that you are not alone. Hang in there...

Messages

2010-02-09T19:38:00.017-07:00

Boarded-up room at abandoned Regency Motel, Howell NJ

One of the many eerie houses (now demolished) of Demon's Alley, West Milford NJ

Inside of vacant (now demolished) 'Sapphire Woods', Jackson NJ

2nd floor locker room of abandoned Lambertville High School, Lambertville NJ

Outside of Lambertville High School, Lambertville NJ

Weird sign (w no fire escape, etc in sight) in downtown Nashville TN

Looking down at the 100 ft+ drop from atop the abandoned Paulinskill Viaduct, Knowlton NJ

Odd message on metal thingy alongside spooky Whipporwill Valley Road, Middletown NJ

Old sign found along the snowy back roads, Idaho Falls ID

Abandoned in Pleasureland, Oakland NJ

All photos copyright Heather Shade

Suicide in the Sea of Trees

2010-02-07T19:52:00.000-07:00

Taking a short break from posting photos to share another mysterious & spooky story... welcome, to Aokigahara Forest...

Aokigahara Forest lies in the shadow of Mount Fuji, in Japan. This dense, dark, beautiful forest is known as the Sea Of Trees... a rustic woods wild with volcanic rock and twisted vines.

It is also a place where countless suicidal souls have perished... you see, Aokigahara Forest is also the world's most popular suicide site after the Golden Gate Bridge.

Strangely, hundreds of people have died in Aokigahara Forest since the 1950's. Most are attributed to suicide, and most of the suicides are by hanging. The popularity of Aokigahara as a suicide spot began to soar even higher 33 years ago, after the publication of a novel called Kuroi Jukai (Black Sea of Trees), in which two doomed lovers take their own lives in the shadowy forest.

Some get lost forever in it's depths... compasses do not work here, and the overhanging canopy of trees is disorienting, it is very easy to lose ones way. Many of those that explore the forest for the sake of thrills or nature have been known to come across decaying remains, sometimes still dangling from their nooses. Photos taken at the site are chilling, showing grisly tableaus of bodies hanging from trees or lying on the ground, some still decaying, some nothing more than bones, all surrounded by scattered personal effects left behind (some of those photos can be see here, but they are GRAPHIC and contain images of dead bodies- you have been warned!!)

Suicide has become epidemic in Japan, but the especially-high rate of suicide in Aokigahara has prompted officials to post signs throughout the forest, with messages such as, "Think calmly once again about them, your siblings and your children", "Don't agonise over problems yourself - please seek counselling" and "Your life is a precious gift from your parents"

Despite these measures, the ever-climbing toll of bodies in the forest prompted an annual body search which began in '71; once a year, hundreds of police, journalists, and volunteer firefighters comb through the trees in search of the dead. In 2002 alone, 78 bodies were found (overtaking the previous record of 73 bodies in '98)

So many bodies come out of Aokigahara that the three villages bordering it are posed with a heavy financial burden. By law, they are required to dispose of the countless unidentified dead in their jurisdiction, and they also face a challenging lack of storage space for all of the unclaimed bodies that come out of the forest.

Police patrols have been set up around the forest to try and stop these suicidal souls as they enter Aokigahara, but tragically, some always slip through...

In the controversial bestseller, 'The Complete Manual of Suicide', author Wataru Tsurumui declares the Sea Of Trees as "The perfect place to die."

Some of the suicides in Aokigahara have been found carrying copies of the book.

Below, footage from research for a Swedish documentary about Aokigahara forest, and you can really see how deep and dark this strange forest is.

Reflection

2010-01-25T05:38:00.011-07:00

Tree reflected in rain puddle, Jackson NJ

Sun reflected in waters at the edge of White Rock Lake, Dallas TX

Reflections at Lake Matawan, NJ

The haunted Lodge reflected in it's fish pond, Cloudcroft NM

Self portrait, El Paso TX

Heron in White Rock Lake, Dallas TX

Abandoned Peterson's restaurant, Lakewood NJ

Myself reflected among all the esoteric curio in Dave's Pawn Shop, El Paso TX

Trees reflect in window of abandoned house, NJ

Outside of abandoned Jamesway, Lakewood NJ

All photos copyright Heather Shade

Mystery

2010-01-20T02:13:00.009-07:00

As I make my slow pilgrimage through the world, a certain sense of beautiful mystery seems to gather and grow... (A. C. Benson)

All photos copyright Heather Shade

Dreaming

2010-01-15T07:18:00.020-07:00

Sometimes a photo turns out to have an otherworldly, dreamlike feeling, and whether it happens by accident, or a happy mistake, it is always a nice surprise. Here are some photos I dug up which, for me, evoke that intangible feeling of dreaming...

Overgrown playground @ the abandoned school where I attended kindergarten

Drink under blacklight @ Mulligan's, El Paso TX

Empty swimming pool @ abandoned motel, NJ

Shadowy path to abandoned Admiral Farragat Academy, NJ

Pearlescent full moon at twilight, NJ

Empty window @ abandoned house, NJ

Armstrong Browning Library @ Baylor University, Waco, Texas

Sunset, El Paso TX

Nighttime tree in Gramma's back yard, El Paso TX

Sheets of spiderweb in abandoned mansion, NJ

All photos copyright Heather Shade

RAINBOW!

2010-01-11T18:43:00.006-07:00

I am so glad that you guys have been enjoying the color series, and I thank you for all the kind comments. It's been fun for me to dig through my photos, looking for pics in every hue... I'll continue to add to this series, and I also have some ideas for other themes to come... again, thanks for viewing!

EP bikes @ a bike run, El Paso TX

Rainbow, El Paso TX

A parade of taxis, New York NY

Our Lady De Guadalupe Cemetery, El Paso TX

Riverwalk, San Antonio TX

Stained glass at old church, NJ

Rainbow bouquet in Concordia Cemetery, El Paso TX

THE THING?!

Abandoned Paulinskill Viaduct, NJ

Dragon kite in Dave's Pawn Shop, El Paso TX

All photos copyright Heather Shade

Gray

2010-01-09T23:33:00.014-07:00

Empire State Building, New York NY

Desert storm, El Paso TX

Doves at night, El Paso TX

Abandoned Chinese restaurant, NJ

Sunset during sand storm, El Paso TX

Attic in abandoned house, Jackson NJ

Knives at abandoned bar & grill, NJ

Abandoned yacht club, Staten Island NY

Abandoned @ Pleasureland, Oakland NJ

Moravian Cemetery, Staten Island NY

All photos copyright Heather Shade

Pink

2010-01-09T00:17:00.008-07:00

Full moon through pink blossoms, Dallas TX

Full moon through ferris wheel, Seaside Heights NJ (fist pump!)

Memorial flowers in Concordia Cemetery, El Paso TX

Hot pink roses, Riverside CA

Pink tombstone in Concordia Cemetery, El Paso TX

Abandoned hair salon, Howell NJ

Flowers & chains on tomb door, NJ

Sunset, Jackson NJ

Moravian Cemetery, Staten Island NY

Pink Turkish Gecko, El Paso TX

All photos copyright Heather Shade

Green

2010-01-06T21:40:00.009-07:00

~~Some type of crane-thingy~~ A heron, Dallas TX (thanks for the bird ID Lobo) ;)

Another abandoned building in New Jersey

Evergreen Cemetery, El Paso TX

Abandoned @ Pleasureland, NJ

Gramma's porch light, El Paso TX

Abandoned cabin, Ruidoso NM

Cemetery shadows, NJ

Verdant fields, NJ

Mountain views, NJ

Kermit's cousin, NJ

All photos copyright Heather Shade

Red

2010-01-05T02:28:00.011-07:00

Allegedly haunted El Paso High School, El Paso Texas

Torch of Friendship sculpture, San Antonio TX

Flowers on grave, San Elizario TX

Portrait by electric heater, Idaho Falls ID

Abandoned restaurant, Howell NJ

Autumn leaves, Jackson NJ

Abandoned Brighton Village Hall, Staten Island NY

Last call at Handlebars, El Paso TX

Portrait by light bulb, Idaho Falls ID

Abandoned warehouse, Howell NJ

All photos copyright Heather Shade

Yellow

2010-01-02T01:48:00.008-07:00

Poppies, El Paso TX

Chico's Tacos, El Paso TX

Wild Cacti, El Paso TX

Rainstorm, El Paso TX

Abandoned warehouse, Howell NJ

Sunset, Jackson NJ

Columbine, Ruidoso NM

Sunset, El Paso TX

Autumn, Jackson NJ

Full Moon, El Paso NM

All photos copyright Heather Shade

Blue

2010-01-01T00:53:00.009-07:00

Happy New Year, my friends...

Riverside CA

The Lodge, Cloudcroft NM

El Paso TX

El Paso TX

El Paso TX

Galveston TX

Jackson NJ

San Antonio TX

San Elizario TX

Jackson NJ

Violet

2009-12-31T00:21:00.007-07:00

The Lodge, Cloudcroft NM

Riverside CA

Idaho Falls, Idaho

San Elizario TX

Cloudcroft NM

El Paso TX

The Lodge, Cloudcroft NM

Jackson NJ

El Paso TX

Split Rock Road, NJ

Orange

2009-12-29T21:00:00.007-07:00

Sunset, El Paso TX

Tiger Lilies, The Hermitage TN

Giant Moth, Nashville TN

The Brass Asp, El Paso TX

Sunlight, Freehold NJ

Cherub, Harmony Cemetery NJ

Sunset, El Paso TX

Cactus Bloom, Organ Mountains NM

Loretto Academy, El Paso TX

Tiger Lilies, Hermitage TN

November... it only believes, in a pile of dead leaves

2009-11-28T16:21:00.002-07:00

It's a crisp, cool November day... so I thought I'd share some Autumn photos that I have shot w you guys. Enjoy.

Twisted-Tree House, Freehold, New Jersey

Abandoned Howell Carpet, Howell, New Jersey

Franklin Mountains Sunset, El Paso, Texas

Autumn Reflection, Jackson, New Jersey

Poetry Graveyard, Freehold, New Jersey

Autumn Foliage, Jackson, New Jersey

Abandoned Ressel House (aka House of 13 Rooms), Jackson, New Jersey

Autumn Tree & Sky, El Paso, Texas

Sunset During Sandstorm, El Paso, Texas

Abandoned Hope Chapel House, Jackson, New Jersey

Mt. Rubidoux, Riverside, California

Twisted-Tree House, Freehold, New Jersey

You can see the photos & the stories behind these amazing locations on my site LostDestinations.com

And all are available for purchase as prints (and more), check out HeatherShade.com

Black Hope: The Desecration and The Curse

2009-11-23T02:15:00.005-07:00

It is 1980 in Crosby Texas, a quiet town near Houston. Jean and Ben Williams have moved into a house in the newly-built suburb of Newport with their young granddaughter Carli. One of the first families in the neighborhood, they've been looking forward to settling into the new suburban home of their dreams.

Unfortunately, that dream soon becomes a nightmare.

From the beginning there is a wrongness to the house. Jean and her granddaughter Carli cannot seem to feel comfortable there, and both have a creepy feeling that unseen eyes are constantly watching them. The garage door and various other appliances suddenly come to life on their own. The toilets flush by themselves. The house is persistently chilly and dank year-round. The Williams begin to wonder what is wrong with their new home.

And they are not the only ones. As more people move in and the new suburb begins to fill up with families, dozens of neighbors begin to experience some of the same bizarre and unexplained phenomena as the Williams. A pall of bad luck seems to hang over the Newport suburb. Pets act strangely and die mysteriously. Plants fail to thrive in yards. Residents wage battle against unusually persistent plagues of ants and snakes (some poisonous) inside their homes. Serious storms- seemingly confined to their suburb only- open up and rage against the homeowners, leaving behind cascades of large worms.

It seems that virtually all of the families in Newport are experiencing these ominous and unexplained events.

Across the street from the Williams family, Sam and Judith Haney have also recently moved into Newport. Excited about their brand new suburban home, the Haneys have just gotten to work planning the installation of a swimming pool in their backyard when a knock rings out against the front door. They open the door to find an elderly, stooped man... a stranger.

Stranger still, he commences to tell them that there are human remains buried in the yard of their new dream home. They follow him in mild disbelief as he moves around to the backyard, and points out a spot where he claims that bodies are buried. As he leaves, the man gives them the names of some black families in the area that he says will confirm his story. Of course, the story sounds very far fetched, and somewhat dubious, the Haneys continue with their plans.

They never could have suspected what would happen next.

As the contractor bites into the earth with his backhoe, clearing the way for the new swimming pool, he unearths something awful... two crude wooden coffins containing the decayed remains of a man and a woman. Horrified, the Haneys immediately decide that they must find out who these people were, and, if possible, put them to rest properly. Starting with the names that the mysterious old man had given them, the couple begin trying to track down some answers, and their queries lead them to a man named Jasper Norton. Norton tells Sam and Judith that he had worked as a gravedigger in the area when he was a young man, and that one of the cemeteries where he had dug graves was called Black Hope Cemetery. He explains that old Black Hope had been a graveyard of paupers, and that most of it's dead were former slaves. As many as 60 poor souls were interred there, with the last burial in 1939.

His next words bring a chill to the perplexed couple, as he tells them that their home- and the surrounding suburb of Newport- has been built right on top of the abandoned Black Hope Cemetery.

The Haneys want answers. With Norton's help, they are able to identify the couple in their backyard as Charlie and Betty Thomas, former slaves who had been buried in Black Hope in the 30's. Sam and Judith then try to track down any of the couple's living relatives, with no luck. The couple feels wracked with guilt over the desecration of the Thomas' graves, and they come to an unconventional decision- to respectfully re-inter the remains to their original resting places, in the hope that they will be able regain the eternal peace that had been interrupted.

But it is not to be.

Disturbing events soon begin to plague the Haney's home as well. Water faucets and lights are turning off and on by themselves for no apparent reason. Television sets turn on unaided, even after being unplugged. Disembodied, eerie sounds start to menace the couple. One night, Sam comes face to face with two dark, unearthly apparitions... and when they reach out, their touch is an icy coldness which engulfs his entire body, stealing the breath from him. The serious, asthma-like attack sends him to the hospital. There is a malicious feeling to the phenomena and both Sam and Judith Haney are scared, tired, and tense.

Across the street, their neighbors, Jean and Ben Williams, are having problems of their own. Out in the yard, parts of the lawn have begun to collapse in on themselves, leaving rectangular sinkholes that appear again and again no matter how well or how many times they are filled. The Williams also notice an odd carving on an old oak tree in their yard, near the sinkholes. It is an arrow pointing downward, two horizontal lines slashed below it.

A long-time elderly resident of the area clears up the mystery of the tree when he tells the family that he had etched the markings on the oak himself, many years ago, as a way to mark the graves of his two sisters.

The Williams are outraged and shaken. Their worst fears are confirmed- their dream home is built atop the desecrated graves of Black Hope.

Things only get worse after that. One quiet afternoon, some loud, disembodied footsteps startle Jean and little Carli awake from a nap. Another evening, Ben returns home from work to find a terrifying sight- a dark, menacing figure leaning over his sleeping wife. A darkness seems to be falling over the Williams. Around this time, six members of their extended family are diagnosed with deadly cancers. Three of them are dead within the year. Ruled by fear and dread, the Williams' life is coming apart.

Their neighbors, the Haneys, are also falling apart... suffering from poor health and terrified of their own home. With nothing left to lose, they decide to sue the suburb's developer for not disclosing the fact that their new house is sitting on top of a desecrated cemetery. A jury awards the Haneys $142,000... but their bad luck is not over yet. A judge overturns the jury's decision on a legal technicality and then forces the Haneys to pay the court costs, further decimating their already-stressed lives.The Williams family also tries to take legal action but they are told that they will need definitive proof of a cemetery on their property before anything can be done.

Exhausted, scared, and worn down, Jean desperately decides that she will get that proof, whatever it takes. It is a decision that will haunt her for the rest of her days.

Grabbing a tool, she digs into one of the sinkholes, determined to uncover a coffin, a body, any kind of proof. She digs and digs wildly, until she is exhausted, and then she digs more. When she is on the verge of collapse, her daughter Tina takes her tools from her and takes over the digging. Tina has been digging for about thirty minutes when she collapses. She never recovers, dying two days later from a massive heart attack at the age of just thirty years old.

In 1987, shortly after this tragedy, Jean and Ben Williams give up everything and leave their house, convinced that something unearthly does not want them there. They move to an undisclosed location in Montana.

To this day it is said that the suburb of Newport has a high rate of resident turnover, with people moving in, and then immediately moving back out again.

It is interesting to note that the area where most of the suburb's phenomena is said to be centered at the east end of a street called Poppet's Way and it's connecting side street... according to one of Wikipedia's definitions of the word poppet,"...a poppet is a doll made to represent a person, for casting spells on that person. These dolls may be fashioned from such materials as a carved root, grain or corn shafts, a fruit, paper, wax, a potato, clay, branches, or cloth stuffed with herbs. The intention is that whatever actions are performed upon the effigy will be transferred to the subject based in sympathetic magic. It was from these European dolls that the myth of Voodoo dolls arose..." A strange coincidence, given the seemingly cursed nature of the suburb.

There has been much speculation on this case, and a book called The Black Hope Horror: The True Story Of A Haunting has been written by John Bruce Shoemaker (with Ben and Jean Williams) on the events.

This story was also the inspiration for the movie, Poltergeist...

Feel free to post your thoughts and comments on the Black Hope case in the comments section...

that's the spirit: ghostly music videos

2009-11-18T02:44:00.006-07:00

And now, for your viewing pleasure, I present to you my favorite ghostly music videos...

Slipknot- Vermilion Part 1:
A beautiful, lonely ghost awakens to wander among us another day, tortured with her inability to touch humanity. Still, she wanders and watches the everyday world in frustration, complete with headbanging & hair-pulling, trying to reach out to the living...

Slipknot- Vermilion Part 2:
A companion video to the vid above (with a more melancholy rendering of the song), this is not your usual ghostly, this is a more unsettling, eerie Japanese-esque kind of ghostly, as the body of a beautiful dead (or is she undead?) girl is reanimated by unnatural breezes.

Oingo Boingo- Stay:
Oingo Boingo teams up with some ghostly waltzing spirits (and some midgets!) to play new wave cupid to a pair of 1940's lovers. Yes, it sounds crazy, and it is, in the best of ways. My fave part is at 3:06, when the little old lady sings to her little old man the line: "won't you stay with me one more day..." awww.

White Stripes- Blue Orchid:
I'd say that that is definitely a haunted house. I'm not sure whether ethereal tippytoe girl is a ghost, but I suspect she may be haunting the place after being trampled by a horse in the coolest video ending ever. Jack White looks like the illegitimate lovechild of Jack Sparrow and the devil. And Meg White dreamily bashing china with a demented smile is lovely too (and bonus points for creepy-cute baby!)

Rockwell- Somebody's Watching Me:
OK, Rockwell is living in one f'ed up house. He's got a blood-spraying shower, a veiled-in-black ghost lady spinny-dancing all over the place, a devil dog, a creepy-guy-in-diaper carrying a pig's head on a silver tray (wha?), an inexplicably half-under-the-bed woman, and of course, that no-good mailman. Oh, and somebody's watchin' him, AND he's got no privacy.

Tiger Army- Incorporeal:
In this video for a song about a ghost's lament, a departed spirit haunts his lost love, watching her every move like a sort of rockabilly Patrick Swayze without the sculpting wheel... sweet, ghostly, and retro romantic.

Michael Jackson- Ghosts:
MJ ripping off his face is a little umm, creepy, all things considered... but throw in the Disney-Haunted-Mansion-esque setting, some awesomely moldy, dusty old ghosts getting jiggy with it, and killer FX by the master Stan Winston, you've got a ghostly winna. The skull-busting move at the beginning is a nice touch. Here is an excerpt of the 30+ minute short film...

So, what are your favorite spooky videos?
Feel free to share in the comments!

famous last words: the executed

2009-11-17T13:28:00.000-07:00

"Hoka hey, it's a good day to die. Thank you very much. I love you all. Goodbye"
Clarence Ray Allen, convicted of three murders in 1982 and executed in California in 2006 at the age of 76

"Somebody needs to kill my attorney."
George Harris, executed in Missouri in 2000 for murder

"Well, gentlemen, you are about to see a baked Appel."
George Appel, executed by electric chair in 1928

"Take a step forward, lads. It will be easier that way."
Erskine Childers, Irish patriot, executed by firing squad November 24, 1922

"You sons of bitches. Give my love to Mother."
Francis "Two Gun" Crowley, executed in electric chair, 1931

"Hurrah for anarchy! This is the happiest moment of my life."
George Engel, last words on the gallows

"I love you."
(Spoken to the executioner)
Sean Flannagan, executed by injection, New York, June 23, 1989

"How about this for a headline for tomorrow's paper? French fries."
James French, executed in electric chair in Oklahoma, 1966

"I'd like to thank my family for loving me and taking care of me. And the rest of the world can kiss my ass."
Johnny Frank Garrett, Sr., executed by injection, Texas, February 11, 1992

"I did not get my Spaghetti-O's, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this."
Thomas J. Grasso, executed by injection, Oklahoma, March 20, 1995

"You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the Grim Reaper."
Robert Alton Harris, executed in California's gas chamber, April 21, 1992

"Let's do it!"
Gary Gilmore, executed by firing squad, Utah. January 17, 1977

"I'd rather be fishing."
Jimmy Glass, Executed in electric chair, Louisiana, June 12, 1987

"Such is Life."
Ned Kelly, Australian bushranger, executed by hanging 1880

The Axeman Of New Orleans

2009-11-15T17:37:00.002-07:00

From May 1918 to October 1919, an unknown butcher held the city of New Orleans in a grip of fear, battering his way into the quiet homes of random sleeping families and savagely attacking them as they slumbered unaware.

His weapon of choice was an axe, and they called him the Axeman.

The night of May 22, 1918... all is quiet in the home of Joseph and Catherine Maggio. The Maggios, an Italian couple who run a small grocery and barroom on the corner of Upperline and Magnolia Streets, live in rooms behind their store, where they are fast asleep in their bed. So are Jake and Andrew, Joseph's two brothers who live on the other side of the double home. It is the dead of night when Jake is awakened by loud groans coming from the Maggio's bedroom on the other side of the wall. Something about it does not sound right. Concerned, Jake knocks loudly on the wall, and when there is no response he knocks harder. When there is still no answer, he rouses his brother Andrew and they head over to investigate. At the front door they find that a wooden panel from the door had been chiseled out, the chisel and panel lying discarded on the ground. Alarmed, they enter the home and rush to the couple's room. What they find is a bloodbath.

Catherine lies dead, her lifeless body partly draped across her husband. She has been struck in the head repeatedly with an axe, and her throat cut ear-to-ear with a razor. So deep is the wound that her head is nearly severed from her body. Her husband lies, still alive, with his feet dangling off the side of the bed. He is also severely injured from numerous axe blows to the head. Upon seeing his brothers he tries to stand, only to half-fall from the bed. The brothers immediately summon the police, but Joseph dies of his massive head wounds before they arrive. In the bathroom, investigating officers find a discarded pile of bloody men's clothing. They also find a bloodied axe, which was later determined to have belonged to the victims, leaning inside the bathtub. A wicked barber-type straight razor is left lying atop the bedsheets.

The Axeman of New Orleans has arrived.

The double axe murder causes a sensation among the shocked residents, who are rightly frightened and clamoring for an arrest. Yet after two weeks pass by without any further attacks, the nervous residents begin to relax and settle back into their routines.

Then, it happens again. On the early morning of June 6, a man named John Zanca is making the usual delivery of bread to a 59-year-old grocer named Louis Besumer, when he finds the store on Dorgenois and La Harpe Streets locked up tight. Mr. Besumer is routinely up early waiting to accept the delivery, so this is very unusual. Zanca decides to head around and knock on the side door. To his horror, when Besumer opens the door he is dazed and awash in blood. In shock, he tells Zanca that he has been attacked, and gestures shakily toward his bedroom. Zanca approaches the room with dread, and find Besumer's mistress, 28 year old Anna Harriet Lowe, lying on the bed, draped with a gore-soaked sheet. She is barely alive, suffering a grievous head wound from an axe. Bare footprints in blood lead away from the bed. Zanca calls police, who again discover a panel pried off of the back door. They also once again find the weapon- a rusty axe belonging to Besumer- left in the bathroom. Although Besumer is still conscious he cannot provide any description of the madman.

Anna Lowe is taken to Charity Hospital, where she lingers for several months before succumbing to her terrible wounds. Although she gives several differing stories of the assault before she dies- including one version where Louis Besumer is her attacker- police are unable to uncover any real leads on the Axeman from her testimony (Besumer was arrested for the murder, but was later cleared when it was proven that there was no possible way that Besumer could have self-inflicted the axe wounds to himself; the couple had a tumultuous relationship and were rumored to be drug addicts, perhaps these circumstances shed some light on Anna Lowe's accusations)

Two months later, on August 5, Anna Harriet Lowe passes away.

That same day, a businessman named Edward Schneider stays at his office later than usual; Schneider is soon going to be a father, and he is working overtime. When he finally returns to his home that evening, he anticipates his glowing wife greeting him at the door, as is her habit. Instead he is met with a silent house and no sign of his wife. Calling out for her and getting no response, Schneider worriedly heads toward the bedroom. There, in the bed, lies his wife- 8 months pregnant and drenched in blood. The room is splattered with red, and a horrific gaping wound is visible on her head. Some of her teeth have been knocked out by repeated blows to the face with an axe and lie scattered about the scene. Schneider rushes to her side and discovers that she is still breathing. He summons police and an ambulance.

Despite the awful nature of her wounds, Mrs. Schneider clings to life and regains consciousness after a few days in critical condition. She tries to recall the attack but cannot provide much to go on. She had been napping, she says, when she awoke to find the dark figure of a man standing over her. Before she could scream she saw the glinting axe whistling down through the air toward her face, and she remembered nothing more than that. Miraculously Mrs. Schneider not only survives the brutal attack, she gives birth to a healthy baby girl one week later.

August 10, five days later. Mary and Pauline Bruno are shaken out of an early morning sleep by a series of loud thumps coming from the room of their uncle, Joseph Romano. Startled, Pauline sits up in her bed and suddenly finds the tall, dark figure of a man standing over her. She screams with all her might, and the figure runs from the room (she later told reporters that the man "was awfully light on his feet" and that he almost seemed to have wings) At her screams, her elderly Uncle Joseph staggers into her room in a blood-drenched nightshirt. His face is marred with vicious gashes from the axe. "I don't know who did it..." he says to his niece, and then he collapses to the floor. His last words are to ask her to call for help. He dies at Charity Hospital shortly after. Police find the telltale chiseled panel removed from the door, and a crimson-splattered axe in the yard.

'IS AN AXEMAN AT LARGE IN NEW ORLEANS?' asks a newspaper headline soon after. The Axeman is here, and the population is terrified. The random nature of the crimes leaves everyone feeling unsafe- the butcher has attacked men, women, an elderly man, a sleeping pregnant woman. People are being killed at their most vulnerable, when they close their eyes and let go of consciousness and vigil. Paranoia is sweeping the city. Reports of potential intruders and possible sightings skyrocket, and families begin sleeping in shifts- often armed with guns- to watch over each other as they sleep.

The frightened city of New Orleans is in the Axeman's grip.

Yet, the Axeman does not make another appearance that year. As the months pass with no further axe attacks, New Orleanites finally begin to relax again and to return to normal life. The end of World War I also turns their attention to other matters. People began to feel that the horrible work of the Axeman is finished, or that perhaps that the killer has moved on to other hunting grounds.

And then, it happens again. Monday, March 10, 1919... bloodcurdling screams are heard from a residence at the junction of Jefferson and Second Streets. Iorlando Jordano, a neighbor, hears the cries and rushes into the home. Upon entering he sees the body of immigrant grocer Charles Cortimiglia splayed on the floor in a pool of blood. He has a grisly, gaping hole in his torso. Beside him crouches his wife Rosie, who is seriously injured with five gashes to the head, and covered in blood. She is screaming, and in her arms she holds the dead body of her 2 year old daughter, Mary. The Cortimiglias had been attacked with an axe as they slept. Rosie had been holding the sleeping baby in her arms when the attacker killed the girl with one single axe blow to the back of the neck. Charles Cortimiglia had tried to fight off the intruder, but had been violently overcome. As usual, the door has a panel chiseled from it, and a gory bloodstained axe is found left behind, lying under the kitchen doorstep. The Axeman is back.

Three days after the horrifying attack on the Cortimiglias, a disturbing letter is sent to the editor of the Times-Picayune. The letter reads:

Hell, March 13, 1919

Esteemed Mortal:

They have never caught me and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the ether that surrounds your earth. I am not a human being, but a spirit and a demon from the hottest hell. I am what you Orleanians and your foolish police call the Axeman.

When I see fit, I shall come and claim other victims. I alone know whom they shall be. I shall leave no clue except my bloody axe, besmeared with blood and brains of he whom I have sent below to keep me company.

If you wish you may tell the police to be careful not to rile me. Of course, I am a reasonable spirit. I take no offense at the way they have conducted their investigations in the past. In fact, they have been so utterly stupid as to not only amuse me, but His Satanic Majesty, Francis Josef, etc. But tell them to beware. Let them not try to discover what I am, for it were better that they were never born than to incur the wrath of the Axeman. I don't think there is any need of such a warning, for I feel sure the police will always dodge me, as they have in the past. They are wise and know how to keep away from all harm.

Undoubtedly, you Orleanians think of me as a most horrible murderer, which I am, but I could be much worse if I wanted to. If I wished, I could pay a visit to your city every night. At will I could slay thousands of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship with the Angel of Death.

Now, to be exact, at 12:15 (earthly time) on next Tuesday night, I am going to pass over New Orleans. In my infinite mercy, I am going to make a little proposition to you people. Here it is:

I am very fond of jazz music, and I swear by all the devils in the nether regions that every person shall be spared in whose home a jazz band is in full swing at the time I have just mentioned. If everyone has a jazz band going, well, then, so much the better for you people. One thing is certain and that is that some of your people who do not jazz it on Tuesday night (if there be any) will get the axe.

Well, as I am cold and crave the warmth of my native Tartarus, and it is about time I leave your earthly home, I will cease my discourse. Hoping that thou wilt publish this, that it may go well with thee, I have been, am and will be the worst spirit that ever existed either in fact or realm of fancy.

The Axeman

It is unknown if this letter is a prank, or the real thing. However, the people of New Orleans are not taking any chances. That night, every dance hall in the Big Easy is packed to capacity, and hundreds of houses around the city host raucous parties with both professional and amateur bands. Some well-armed citizens actually issue invitations to the Axeman, going as far as to say they would 'leave a window open' for him so he will not have to damage their doors. It is said that that night was one of the loudest, wildest parties in New Orleans history.

Perhaps this pleased the Axeman, for he took no victims that night.

On August 10, yet another Italian grocer becomes the target of the Axeman's bloodlust. Steve Boca is asleep in his bed when he is struck with an axe. Dazed and in shock, he manages to crawl out of bed and stumbles to a neighbor's home for help. Police find the now-familiar chiseled door panel discarded, and an axe left in the kitchen. Boca does recover from his wounds, but he has lost all memory surrounding the incident and can recall nothing.

Three weeks later, the night of September 3... a nineteen year old girl named Sarah Laumann is home alone, in bed, when someone (presumed to be the Axeman) creeps into the house. For some reason, this time entry is not made through a door panel. The girl is discovered in her bed, unconscious, with multiple axe wounds to the head. A bloody axe is left outside an open window. Sarah Laumann later dies at the hospital.

Mike Pepitone is the Axeman's next victim. During the early morning hours of October 27, Mrs. Pepitone hears sounds of a struggle coming from her husband's room, which is right next to hers. She claims that as she hurried to the room she was nearly knocked over by a large man running out through the doorway. He was carrying an axe. Sending her daughter to the neighbors for help, Mrs. Pepitone rushes to her husband's bed, where she finds him bloodied and torn, the victim of a vicious axe attack. The Deputy who responds to the call for help finds Mrs. Pepitone standing over her husband, where she says, "It looks like the Axeman was here and murdered Mike." Mike Pepitone is rushed to Charity Hospital but he dies the following morning from his massive wounds. Again, the panel cut from the door, and again... the gore-covered axe left behind on the back porch. Despite the fact that there were eight people in the Pepitone house at the time of the attack, the Axeman did not let the danger of being identified deter his attack, nor did anyone besides Mrs. Pepitone actually see the attacker.

At this point many citizens, including the States newspaper, begin to wildly theorize that the Axeman is something other than human. Some people point out that the panels removed from the doors were too small for any grown human to fit through, with the locks being unreachable from the removed panels, and the doors always found locked from the inside. With the combination of the atmosphere of paranoia and superstitious nature of New Orleans, some begin to wonder if the bloodthirsty and mysterious intruder with the axe really is from Hell, something not human, some sort of evil spirit, as his letter stated.

On December 2, 1920, investigators in New Orleans receive a report about an incident in Los Angeles, California. A man named Joseph Mumfre, a New Orleans resident, had been shot dead on the street. The shooter was a Mrs. Mike Pepitone, widow of the Axeman's last victim, who had waited in a shadowy doorway, dressed in black, as Mumfre approached, and then shot him dead. After Mumfre died on the sidewalk, Mrs. Pepitone calmly waited for police to arrive. She claimed that Joseph Mumfre was the man that she had seen running from her husband's room that night, axe in hand.

Mrs. Pepitone recieved 10 years for her crime, to be served in Los Angeles. She was released after 3 years and was never heard from again. Mike Pepitone would be the last known victim of the Axeman; there were no more axe murders in New Orleans following Joseph Mumfre's shooting.

The identity of the Axeman of New Orleans is still unknown.

The Axeman has become a legend, one of the most notorious boogeymen of New Orleans lore. Despite tireless investigation the crimes were never officially solved. Theories abound, though. One theory involves the Mafia... many of the victims were Italians, many were grocers. The thought was, perhaps these people had taken out loans and had not repaid their dues in some way. Rumors of a Mafia sect called 'The Black Hand' were whispered on the streets; it was reputed to be a secret oganization that carried out Mafia assasinations. They were said to deliver a warning note imprinted with a black hand to those who crossed them before carrying out their violent reprisals. Some theorized that maybe the Black Hand was sending a message to those who didn't comply with it's demands with the brutal axe murders.

Another theory focuses on Joseph Mumfre, the man that Mike Pepitone's widow claimed was her husband's killer. On May 16, 1912, an Italian couple named Shiambra were shot in their beds as they slept. Mr. Shiambra died, while his wife survived the attack. While this crime differed greatly from the Axeman's usual MO, there are some who believe that this may have been one of the first crimes in the series, due to the similarities in the victims, and the method of attack as they slept in their beds. The interesting thing is that newspapers at the time repeatedly referred to the prime suspect in this case as someone named "Momfre". Another intriguing link was found written on a sidewalk about a block away from the Maggio crime scene on the day of the murder- a message in chalk, scrawled in a childish hand, which read, "Mrs. Maggio will sit up tonight just like Mrs. Toney." ...Mr. Shiambra's first name was Tony... was 'Mrs. Toney' a reference to Mrs. Shiambra? Some wondered at the coincidence. Was Joseph Mumfre the Axeman, and were the Shiambras one of his early attacks? The axe murders did stop with his death, but there was never any concrete evidence of his guilt beyond his killer's accustaion.

Perhaps, we will never know the truth. But the legend of the Axeman lives on. ..

Sheet music for a 1919 song called 'The Mysterious Axeman's Jazz'

Australian band Beasts Of Bourbon's 1988 promo video for a song called 'Psycho', off of their 1984 album 'The Axeman's Jazz'...

Please feel free to discuss your ideas, theories, questions and comments about the Axeman case in the comments....

Death at Dyatlov Pass

2009-11-09T03:57:00.019-07:00

The Northern Ural mountains, Western Russia, 1959... nine adventurous Russian hikers have made base camp on a ski trek through the snow-laden Urals. The name of the particular slope they are camped on is Kholat Syakhl- a Mansi name meaning Mountain of the Dead.

The group, led by Igor Dyatlov, consists of two women and eight men... a group of college friends from Ural State Technical University. They are in high spirits... enthusiastic and excited about reaching their goal- Otorten, a mountain peak approximately ten kilometers from their location. At this time of the year, the trip they are undertaking is considered very difficult- Category III- and they have already gotten slightly off track due to a blinding snowstorm, but all are experienced in long mountain expeditions and cross-country ski treks, and are confident in reaching their goal, even looking forward to the challenge.

Little do they know, they are embarking on a dark journey into what will become one of the most chilling and infamous unsolved mysteries of our times. The group kept diaries and shot photos all along the way, leaving behind the following record of their trip...

January 25: the group travels by train to a city called Ivdel. From Ivdel, they find a truck to take them as far as Vizhai- the last inhabited settlement in the north.

January 27: the group sets out on foot from Vizhai into the wilderness, intent on conquering the peaks of Otorten. On the second day of their trek, one of the group- Yuri Yudin- experiences health problems, and opts to leave the hike and return to civilization. They agree that Dyatlov- the group's leader- will send word to him at their sports club as soon as the group returns to Vizhai. Now there are nine.

January 31: The hikers reach the beginnings of the highland area and set about making preparations for the climb. They find a valley shielded by woods, and construct a shelter there to store the extra food and equipment that they will need on the return trip.

February 1: the crew begins the difficult trip over the pass. The plan is to cross over the pass to the other side and set up camp for the following night. As they climb, a heavy snowstorm descends and they lose visibility in the swirling snow. As the weather worsens, the group loses their bearings and mistakenly alter their course to the west, heading toward the peak of the Kholat Syakhl- The Mountain of the Dead. Realizing that they are off course, they decide to stop and set up base camp on the mountain's slope. Later, the weather clears up somewhat, and they have a bite to eat and goof around, taking photos of the camp and each other. Night falls, and they settle in to sleep.

What happens afterward is still an enigma.

The hikers were to have arrived safely back in Vizhai no later than February 12, upon which time Dyatlov had promised to send a telegraph to their friends. The date comes and goes with no word. At first there is no alarm, as expeditions of this nature sometimes have delays and the friends are all competent cross-country hikers. But as time goes by with no sign of the group, worried relatives begin demanding a rescue operation. On February 20 the first rescue parties- made up of volunteer teachers and students from the hiker's university- go out in search of the group. Soon army and police forces join in the search, bringing in planes and helicopters.

On February 26 the searchers find the group's abandoned base camp on the slope of Kholat Syakhl. The tent is tattered and slashed apart. A line of bare footprints leads across the clearing, headed toward the forest on the other side of the pass. At around 500 meters, they vanish under the newly fallen snow.

The searchers follow the trail. Under an old pine tree at the edge of the forest, they find the remnants of a fire. They also find the first of the bodies.

It is Yuri Krivonischenko and Yuri Doroshenko, frozen to death. They are clad only in their underwear, and their feet are bare. The searchers continue, and come across three more frozen bodies- Zinaida Kolmogorova, Rustem Slobodin, and Igor Dyatlov. They are located between the old pine and the camp, and their locations and positions indicate that they had been trying to return to camp when they succumbed to hypothermia. Each hiker lies alone, located separately at distances of 300, 480 and 630 meters away from the pine. Like the others, they are dressed strangely for a night when a snowstorm was blowing and the temperature was around -25° to -30°C. Partially dressed, some wear only one shoe, others wear no shoes at all or just socks. Some of them are haphazardly draped in bits of the clothes that had apparently been cut from the dead.

The bodies of hikers Lyudmila Dubinina, Nicolai Thibeaux-Brignolle, Alexander Zolotarev, and Alexander Kolevatov cannot be found in the initial searches. In fact it would be another two months before their fate is known. In the meantime, a legal inquest into the incident begins as soon as the first five bodies are discovered. After examination, medical professionals conclude that all five had died of hypothermia, with no other injuries present that may have contributed to their demise. One of the hikers has a small skull fracture, but it is determined to be a non-fatal wound that could have possibly predated the incident. It is speculated that maybe the hikers has grown disoriented from hypothermia in the serious snowstorm, and wandered off to their deaths.

The discovery of the last four bodies changes all that.

On May 4, the remaining travelers are found. Their bodies lay deeper in the woods, in a ravine of a stream valley. Four meters of snow covers them. Unlike their comrades, three of the four have violent, fatal injuries. Dubunina and Zolotarev both have had their chests crushed, with major fractures throughout, and Thibeaux-Brignolle has extensive damage to his skull. An expert states that the force needed to cause such devastating injuries would have had to be great, comparing it to the impact of a car accident. Inexplicably, none of the bodies have any external wounds at all. It is almost as if they have been crushed by a high level of pressure. And that is not all.

The female hiker is missing her tongue.

The investigation uncovers even more perplexing facts about the incident. It is concluded that something caused the hikers to rise in the night and to leave their camp without even bothering to dress. The tent had been sliced open by the group, from the inside. All nine left on foot, of their own accord, including the members of the group who were found with injuries. Six of the hikers died from hypothermia, the other three died of their injuries. All perished approximately 6-8 hours after they ate their last meal. The inquest can find no traces of any other people anywhere on or near Kholat Syakhl at the time of the incident. Some people theorize that the hikers had come under attack from the indigenous Mansi, but a doctor disputes that theory, saying no human could have caused such injuries, "because the force of the blows had been too strong and no soft tissue had been damaged". In addition, no other footprints besides the hikers are found anywhere near the site. Some point to the possibility of an avalanche, but it remains unexplained as to why a simple natural disaster like an avalanche would have been shrouded in such an incredible amount of secrecy, or would have resulted in the area being closed down for an entire three years following the incident.

It is reported that tests also revealed high doses of mysterious radioactive contamination on the clothing of some of the victims.

Things get stranger. After the funerals, relatives of the deceased claim that the victims' hair had gone completely gray, and that their skin was an unnatural and unexplained orange color. Another group of hikers, who had been hiking about 50 kilometers south of the site, claim that they all saw eerie orange spheres in the sky to the north above Kholat Syakhl on the night of the incident. In fact, similar sightings of these 'spheres' above Ivdel and the adjacent areas were reported continually from February to March 1959 by multiple witnesses. This included the military and meteorology service.

This unnerving mystery has never had a satisfactory explanation. The sole survivor of this chilling incident- Yuri Yudin, who escaped an unknown fate when he left his nine friends to return to the village due to health problems- has said, "If I had a chance to ask God just one question, it would be, 'What really happened to my friends that night?"

This photo shows Yuri Yudin- sole survivor of the expedition- hugging fellow hiker Lyudmila Dubinina during the trip, before he took ill and left the group; this was one of the photos later found in a camera at the site. You can see the actual last photos from the hikers' cameras here

The area was eventually named 'Dyatlov Pass'. The investigation was officially shut down in May 1959, due to "absence of a guilty party", and the inquest's final verdict was that the hikers died due to "unknown compelling force". All files associated with the Dyatlov Pass incident were locked away in secret archives and were only made available to the public in 1990... with some parts missing.

The gravesite memorial for the Dyatlov victims

The Legend of Sawney Bean

2009-11-05T22:53:00.016-07:00

The time: 16th century Scotland. A man and his pretty young wife ride together on a single horse, traveling along a wooded trail on the remote Scottish coastline. The couple has just come from a fair, and are in still in high spirits from the festivities. The moon is beginning to rise, casting a silvery glow onto the wild fern and the flowering heather dotting the edge of the trail. The wife hums softly to herself as seabirds scream in the far distance. She breathes in the sea air and leans her head against her husband's strong shoulder.

Without warning, the quiet of the night is shattered as the trembling of a fir tree bursts into unexplained violence, a disheveled creature darting from the branches into the couple's line of sight.

The wife screams, and suddenly more figures explode from the foliage all around... freakish, disheveled male and female figures like some misplaced prehistoric clan... they are wielding weapons, and in the shadows, there are too many to count. The husband leaps down to the ground, armed with a sword and a pistol and ready to fight. He is trained in combat, and feels he has a reasonably good chance of defending against the bandits. But he does not know what he is up against. The pack attacks with savage ferocity, spooking the horse and overtaking the couple with a single mindedness. Even as his wife tumbles to the ground, the husband fights, dealing blow after blow to what seems like an endless line of brutal assailants. He fights as he hears his wife's terrible screams, and the whoops of the savages as they tear her apart (it is said that the females took her down, slitting her throat and belly, and then feasting on the blood and entrails right before the horrified husband's eyes) Still he fights, even as they gnash their teeth, and countless blows rain down upon him and he crashes to his knees, becoming surer and surer of his own impending death. Just then, the sounds of voices and hoofbeats approach from the bend in the road. A large group of 20-30 fairgoers on their way home suddenly intrudes upon the horrific scene, surprising the attackers, and after a moment's shock they all rush in to help, chasing off the attackers, who seem to melt into the forest without a trace. The husband's life is spared, but his young wife has been horribly mauled to death and is beyond help. The attackers had tried to drag her body away with them but had abandoned it when they had to flee.

It sounds like the plot to some outlandish horror flick. But the fact is, this incident is purported to be real, and it was the beginning of the unraveling of a legend- a real life horror story of madness, incest, mass murder, and cannibalism....

Alexander Bean was born East Lothian, Scotland. He was the son of a hardworking man, a man that trimmed hedges, dug ditches, and worked hard manual labor to provide for his family. The father tried to guide Alexander into the family trade when the time came, but Alexander had different desires. He did not see the need for honest labor, he was lawless and vicious, and he found an equally vicious woman to partner with, a woman that shared his own dark pursuits. He turned his back on his family and left home with her for destinations unknown, and it would be decades before news of them resurfaced, in the most shocking of ways.

Meanwhile, near a place called Galloway (now South Ayrshire), sinister things were occurring. People were disappearing... travelers along the forest roads near the coastline... disappearing without a trace. Every so often, a severed body part would wash up onto the beach, with no further explanation. Fear and paranoia grew, and several major searches of the land were launched, to no avail. The hysteria mounted, leading to false accusations and the lynching of several innocent people. Innkeepers came under close scrutiny, as they were often the last people to see the travelers before they disappeared, and therefore the first targets of the paranoid population. Yet still the baffling disappearances continued unabated.

Then came the bloodthirsty attack on the married couple, in which the husband- the very first victim to ever survive the clan's attacks- was finally able to provide a description of what had taken place. The husband was taken to Glasgow, to recount his terrible, unbelievable experience to the magistrates there. They in turn sent word of the atrocities to King James VI of Scotland, who finally organized a search party of 400 men armed with trained bloodhounds to hunt down the murderous crew, with the husband acting as a guide. The searchers eventually came to a coastal cave in Bannane Head, during which time the bloodhounds went frantic, barking and howling at the cave's entrance. The cave had been considered before, but had been decided to be uninhabitable, as the entrance was completely obscured by water at high tide, rendering it virtually invisible. Now, the stunned searchers discovered that the intricate cave system actually wound almost a mile into the coastline. But that surprise was nothing in comparison for what waited for them inside...

The search party must have felt like they had entered a chamber of Hell when the entered the cave, as they found the arms, legs, thighs, hands and feet of countless men, women and children hanging like beef in a butcher's shop. Pickled human remains were stacked up everywhere, as well as piles of gold and silver, clothing, weapons, cloth, and other assorted spoils from their raids.

The story that was revealed in this awful place was gruesome beyond belief. After 25 years, they had finally found the secret 'home' of Alexander Bean- hence know as 'Sawney Bean'. Along with his wife, Sawney Bean was now the head of a cannibalistic outlaw clan of 48 people- eight sons, six daughters, eighteen grandsons and fourteen granddaughters- all the products of incest and inbreeding and raised for murder and mayhem. The feral family thrived on lawlessness and cannibalism... they would undertake ruthless ambushes under the cover of night, laying in wait to rob and murder individuals or small groups of travelers. They never left a soul alive. The dead bodies of these unfortunate victims were carried back to the family cave, where they were systematically butchered and cannibalized. Leftovers of the corpses were sometimes carefully pickled, stored away as provisions against any times of slim pickings. Extra body parts were tossed into the sea, which eventually swept some of the dismembered parts back onto the beaches and to the horror of the villagers. The searchers found the cave strewn with the butchered remains of humans, and the ghastly evidence of hundreds of acts of cannibalism and murder. Some estimates claim the Sawney Beans took 1000's of victims.

This old drawing depicts Sawney Bean at the head of his cave; a slaughtered person lies on the rocks to the left as a woman in the background carries a severed leg inside

It would seem incredible that such a clan could survive unnoticed for so many years. But the Sawney Beans carefully planned their ambushes at night, in remote areas, never taking more than an individual at a time, or a small group, in a place where wilderness still ruled the land and the Sawney Beans ruled the wilderness. Their ambushes were planned carefully, with enough members in place to surround their victims from all sides, making escape impossible. And they never left anything behind- carting off the bodies and whatever else they could salvage from the brutal attacks. They covered their tracks well, living completely self-sufficiently in a well hidden cave system, no doubt supplementing their diet with the fish and wildlife that were abundant in the area when human prey was scarce. At high tide the ocean crept 200 yards into their underground lair, which itself stretched on for almost a mile. In essence their home of horrors was almost completely hidden from the world. Still, over the years the massive number of unexplained disappearances and the washing up of body parts on the shores already had the community on edge. They had no evidence, however, to point to any culprit or even any crime scenes... so they lived with a sense of dread and fear of the unknown hunters that they knew were out there, somewhere.

But finally, after over 2 decades of murderous mayhem, the king's searchers had uncovered the culprits and the grisly reign of the Sawney Beans was brought to an end with the capture of the family. Records say that they were taken in chains to Tolbooth Jail in Edinburgh, whereafter some were transferred to Glasgow, and some to Leith. Thousands of villagers lined up to witness the spectacle of this monstrous family as they were traveled across the land to their final punishment. At the time cannibalism was considered the equivalent of treason, so the Sawney Bean clan was executed without trial. The men had their hands, feet, and genitalia severed, and were left to bleed to death as the women and children of the family watched. It went no easier on the women and children. They were burned alive in 3 separate fires, after watching the last of the lifeblood drain from their menfolk. It is said that not one of the Sawney Bean family showed any remorse or desire for mercy at the end- instead they remained feral... cursing, spitting, and spewing evil words until their very last breaths.

Some historians debate the existence of the Sawney Beans, yet the tale has become Scottish legend. Some note that the newspapers and publications of the time when the family was active made no mention of the multiple disappearances, and speculate that the later published stories about the case could have been sensationalistic exaggeration. But others note that cannibalism was not uncommon in medieval Scotland, and also, Galloway was also known to be a very wild and lawless place at the time, so it's not unthinkable that crimes such as these could have been committed there. Maybe not on the level of the Sawney Bean story- perhaps there is exaggeration there, as is common in most legends and folktales- but no one can really know for sure.

The story lives on in Scotland's mythology, and has inspired numerous Hollywood adaptations, such as The Hills Have Eyes. It has also inspired books, such as Jack Ketchum's Off Season and it's sequel, Offspring.

Also, a movie based on Offspring was just released on DVD, and it is a really chilling portrayal of a Sawney Bean-like clan bent on a murderous spree:

tunes of the dead

2009-11-05T19:36:00.012-07:00

For your viewing entertainment, I present: my top 5 zombie music videos of all time.... enjoy!

Gob- I Hear You Calling: this vid has cheerleading & soccer playing zombies, great zombie makeup, zombies losing body parts, and some humor thrown in... and it's a great song to boot....

Naked Ape- Fashion Freak: have you ever had a fantasy about sexy rotting zombies washing your car seductively? These guys obviously have. Bonus points for the cool 80's synthesized beat and the zombie chihuahua.... yes, a zombie chihuahua!

Misfits- Scream: a classic from the gods of horror punk. Old skool b&w zombie mayhem running rampant in a hospital, with gore galore, and of course starring the Misfits themselves as the hungry undead, it doesn't get any better than this...

Peaches feat. Iggy Pop- Kick It: what do you get when the always-awesome Peaches teams up with the legendary Iggy Pop? A badass and hilarious song, and a highly entertaining video complete with shambling zombie masses...

Phantom Planet- Big Brat: watch the zombie fanatics zombie themselves up, then watch their 'film' about the zombie apocalypse, the ending of which features a very sweet zombie love story awww....

And finally, special bonus mention goes to....

Michael Jackson- Thriller: although it is the most obvious choice for any zombie related list, there is no denying that MJ's undead extravaganza was a groundbreaking phenomena for zombies AND for music videos. Even today, it still stands up to the CGI and effects laden films of modern times, and looks fantastic. And everyone loves the zombie dance!

Well, that's it for zombies, stay tuned for more video posts!

Victim of the Beast

2009-11-05T17:26:00.001-07:00

In the quiet, sprawling acres of Salt Lake City Cemetery there lies a grave, a grave surrounded by mystery.

This is the story of the grave of Lily Gray.

The enigma of this famous grave does not lie with the history of its occupant, as there is no known history to speak of. The details of Lily Gray's life are largely unknown.

Rather, the mystery lies in the dark inscription of the stone. It reads:

LILLY E. GRAY
JUNE 6.1881-NOV.14.1958
VICTIM OF THE BEAST 666

This sinister, unexplained inscription has provoked curiosity, and even fear, for generations. So who was Lily Gray? And what is the meaning behind the sinister engraving on her tombstone?

The story of her life shows nothing unusual. According to Ancestry.com, Lily Gray was born on June 4, 1880, in Ontario Canada. The discrepancy in the dates and spelling of her name on her tombstone may be a consequence of the times, when tombstone information was often provided by the recollection of a family member and was not always 100% accurate. Lily Gray was not listed in the Social Security Index; again, this is not unusual for the time period, especially if she never worked a formal job in the States. There are no records of any children being born to her, and her cause of death is listed as natural. All in all, what records there are of Lily Gray indicate nothing beyond a seemingly normal and nondescript life.

So how did this bizarre and fearful message end up on her tombstone? It seems that nobody knows, making it one of Utah's most enduring mysteries.

As with any urban legend, theories abound. The first theory has to do with the infamous 'Highway 666', which traversed through part of Utah... U.S. 666 was famous for it's name- which was changed in 2003 by the American Association of State Highways and Transportation Officials from the devilish 666 to a less sinister-sounding 491. U.S. 666 was also infamous for the exceedingly high rate of fatal accidents along its lonely stretches of road, a fact which over the years it earned it the nickname of the 'Devil's Highway'. It's plausible that Lily Gray may have traveled the treacherous Highway 666 in her time... is it possible that she could have met her fate in an accident on U.S. 666, thus prompting the baffling inscription on her tombstone?

A second theory is more diabolical and sensational in nature... in the first part of the twentieth century, famed Satanist Aleister Crowley spent a significant amount of time in Salt Lake City, building up a devoted following there. Some theorize that Lily Gray somehow became involved in Salt Lake City's Satanic movement, leading to the strange inscription on her tombstone. However, records show that Lily Gray did not move to Salt Lake City until 1950- 3 years after Crowley's death. As interesting as the theory is, there is no proof... which seems to be the case in all that surrounds the Lily Gray mystery.

One last theory lies with Lily Gray's husband, Elmer Gray. Records point to the fact that he had mental problems, that he was a petty criminal who had been incarcerated, and that he may have had anti-government sentiments, as evidenced in this application for criminal pardon. Could his mental unbalance be the key to his wife's cryptic inscription? Was the 'Beast' referenced on Lily's grave the government, or some other enemy in the disturbed mind of Elmer Gray? It bears referencing that Elmer Gray is buried in the same cemetery as his wife, but in a plot far removed her location.

One last clue may remain in this mystery of the grave. Lily Gray's tombstone is etched with a border of evening primrose. According to cemetery symbolism, the meaning of evening primrose on a tombstone can have several meanings... from youth, to memory, to sadness, to hope.

But it is the evening primrose's nickname that proves the most interesting... for its nickname it the 'Devil's lantern'.

We may never know the truth behind the dark and curious inscription on Lily Gray's final resting place. We can only hope that she has found peace in the afterlife, and respite from whatever 'Beast' that plagued her.

storytelling

2009-11-05T16:56:00.002-07:00

A quick post to introduce my new blog feature- storytelling.

Since I was a kid, I have loved tales of the strange, mysterious, unexplained, and just plain weird. And part of the pleasure of these stories for me has always been in sharing them with my friends and family... in spinning the tale and watching their reactions. An avid reader of anything and everything since I learned to read, my fascination has always lay with the unexplained, and I collect strange stories the way some collect stamps or old coins. Even as a kid I was the go-to girl when we went camping and some good, spooky campfire stories were needed, and anyone that knows me in real life can tell you, I always have some new, bizarre yarn to unravel. My family always teased me, saying that in medieval times I totally would have been a storytelling bard, travelling the lands sharing my tales of the fantastic with the masses, heheh.

I had the idea that my blog would be a decent place to start sharing some of these stories with you all, since I know many of you have the same interest in the unusual that I do. So with the next post, I will launch a new feature to this blog- storytelling, which I will add to on a regular basis. There will be a new storytelling tag for all these posts, so that you can find them easily. I hope you all enjoy!

Lost Destinations is not dead

2009-10-23T20:12:00.001-06:00

10 years ago, a lost girl w a camera made a website about lost things. That website was Lost Destinations. Some of you remember the beginning, because you were there from the beginning. 10 years later, LD has been dormant for the past few years.... but LD is not dead... oh no... LD has only been slumbering, churning in it's silent grave and restlessly waiting for its time to crawl out into the world again...

That time is soon coming.

2007 was a helluva year. As most of you know, my little sister Haley was murdered that year, and the aftermath of that loss affected everyone who was close to Haley, including of course me. It was devastating. LD suffered a loss as well, as my sister was getting interested in becoming part of the website... but her death came before her LD debut. She was photographing things, and trying to build up a few stories & photo sets for LD. I can so remember she & I going out to supposedly haunted El Paso High in the middle of the night, walking around the entire school a few times while trying to get photos... giggling because we both got startled a few times by noises... I still have those photos, and have never had the heart to post them on LD. In fact I hadn't had the heart to do much of anything since 2007, other than mourn my sister and try to just get through the aftermath and the trial dates. Unfortunately, LD was one of those things that was set aside until things could settle.

Things now are not totally 'settled', as usual in mi vida loca things never really are, but it's at a point where I can start to extend myself to LD (and my other artistic pursuits) once again. I've got a lot of fantastic things to add to the site, plus more coming up... right now the LD redesign is running into an IE6 problem, which my tech guy is working on. As soon as that's conquered, LD will be up & running, and running down some very dark & spooky corners.

Til then, you facebook users can totally stay updated on the LD facebook fan page... I will of course be posting updates there, as well as trying to keep you guys entertained/informed/intrigued with a steady dose of the weird, creepy, abandoned & mysterious. Invite your LD-loving fans to the page! Also, feel free to post your own creepy photos in the fan photo albums, or post your spooky stories in the discussion forum... it's great when you guys get involved.

I hope you guys are enjoying the ride so far... seeya soon!

Lost Destinations on Facebook

my pretties

2009-09-28T02:24:00.002-06:00

And now for a totally random self promotional shout out... I've been making jewelry lately. Check it out & let me know what you think...

(available for purchase, more details here)

the bitch is back

2009-09-26T16:10:00.004-06:00

So there is this girl I have known since last year, she is my cousin's girlfriend. Let's call her A. I met A when she moved here from Austin with my cousin. I knew that she was a total stranger here in El Paso, she didn't know a soul... so I opened up my home to her and tried to do everything I could to help her along. I invited her over like every other day to hang out, my home was basically open to her... cooked dinner for her... gave her rides if she needed them... included & invited her to every single family function that we had... I dug through my closets and gave her armfuls of my clothes and even some brand new shoes. I listened to her when she was upset and I defended her and stood up for her- even against my own cousin- when I saw her being treated badly. I gave her endless hugs and encouraging text messages. I was the shoulder she cried on when my cousin was arrested and shipped back to TN to do some jail time. I offered her a place to stay if she ever needed it. I even went so far as to open up my dead sister's things in storage here and let her choose a few things from them for herself. That's how much I loved and cared for her- like a sister. I was there for this girl from day one.

So back to last year.... when I first met A, I was dating the worst D-bag ever. Seriously. I only dated this guy for a grand total of 4 weeks before I dumped his ass, but in that short time, he managed to use me, to lie to me, to cheat on me (for 2 weeks of the 4), to steal money from me, to CON money from me, to use me for a place to stay, to bring all kinds of very uncool people to my home that caused mayhem, and to get me into trouble with his criminal activities. I found out about his shady dealings, his drug running, his coke habit, and his side job of beating up people for other people for money. Total scumbag material. Once I managed to uncover all of this and I realized who I was really dealing with, I called him up and said- and I quote- "apparently this is not working out, I think we should go our separate ways" Well, I guess the guy didn't appreciate being the dumpee and being dropped by a girl, so he came back with the nastiest tirade about how he never even liked me in the first place, and that he'd just been using me for cash and a place to stay, blah blah blah. I hung up and thought that was end of story. But nooo. For the next few weeks I dealt with his threatening phone messages ('you better watch your back, I know where you live, etc') and his comments to other people about how he was going to get back at me. I also had to deal with a girl that he sent after me to 'kick my ass'. He finally laid off when I told him I'd call his PO and let her know what he was doing. I never heard from him again after that. End of story... right?

So back to A. The girl I did anything and everything for and treated like a sister. She was there during this whole time and she saw what I went through because of that dick. She knew how his threats bothered me in light of the fact that my own sister lived alone and was murdered in her home (yeah, I don't take those kind of threats lightly anymore) She actually sat with me and listened to some of the phone messages. She railed against him and said what a jerk he was and how much she hated him for what he did to me. When she found out that my cousin had talked to him through a mutual friend of ours, she made a big show of acting outraged at my cousin for even talking to the guy. She hugged me, she comforted me, she promised that she had my back, always.

So imagine my shock when last night, I found out from my aunt that this girl has been HANGING OUT WITH MY EX AND THE GIRL HE CHEATED ON ME WITH...! In fact, my aunt says that A refers to the girl 'her best friend'. I didn't even know she had ever even met this girl, so I am standing there with my mouth just hanging open in shock. I even disbelieved it, at first.... until I sent a message to A. And she basically responded with- yes, she & my cousin had been hanging out with them, they were good friends of hers, and she has no clue as to why I would be upset about this.

Her response, verbatim: "I DNT SEE WHY HEATHER SO WUT U GONNA B MAD AT MIKE 2 IM SORRY IF YOU FEEL THAT WAY BUT N E WAY I THOUGHT YOU KNEW BOUT MIKE N I HANGIN WIT DEM HELL I NEVER KNO NOTHIN BUT I WILL APOLOGIZE 2 U JUST 2 KEEP U HAPPY"

What. The. F*ck??!! Is this chick insane? Does she actually not understand what a betrayal that is? To clarify- she and my cousin are also friends with some of my other exes, and I have no problem with this! Totally cool. But that is considering that my other exes never threatened me, tried to terrorize me, or tried to have someone physically hurt me. Big distinction there. And also there's the whole big show she put on about how angry she was at my cousin for talking to to the D-bag, and how horible he was for what he had done to me, etc etc etc. Then she turns around and acts puzzled as to why her having a best friendship with them would be upsetting? (not to mention how upsetting it is that my cousin- my own family- would befriend this guy instead of disliking him for what he did to me??)

So right now I am sitting here, feeling physically sick that she has some of my sister's things, and totally angry that I ever spent so much time, love and energy helping this girl out and being her friend. I am feeling again how bad it can be to care about someone and discover that you didn't even know them and that they never even cared about you in the first place. On the slim positive side, at least now I know what's up. She put up a good front, I'll give her that. Well played A, well played. But remember..... karma is a bitch.

Funny that the thing that would bring me back to blogging would be total pissed off anger. Blogging is the world's best venting spot for me though, so, here I am again. Hmm. Anyway hi again everybody! :P

new mexico run

2009-05-08T11:28:00.005-06:00

Last Sunday, we went on a long New Mexico bike run with my man Red Light and fellow Mad Hatters Obe, RayRay, and RayRay's wife Judy. From El Paso, to Carlsbad, to Artesia, to Cloudcroft, to Alamogordo, and back.... 13 hours, about ten (!!) of which were spent on the bike... I never knew how bad it can hurt to simply have your butt fall asleep, but oh man does it ever. It was a hard ride, but also a beautiful one.... from the desert to the mountains, plains and forests, from early morning sunshine to deepening dusk... we saw so many awesome things along the way. We also stopped off at the legendary haunted Lodge in Cloudcroft, which was great because I have adored that lovely, spooky place since I was a kid, and nobody else had ever been there before, so I totally got to show it off to my peeps... *grin*

Here are some shots from our run. Enjoy!

introducing the fabulous & amazing desert pirate dog

2009-05-01T14:54:00.011-06:00

So I'm sure it will come as no surprise to most everybody that I ended up keeping the scruffy little ratdog known as Minx that I was fostering back in January. Yeah, I couldn't help it.

Well?? Look at that face!!

The Minx became a really important part of our motley little family very quickly; she's lovable and kinda crazy- so she fits right in. As she has gotten more acclimated to her new home her weird, funny personality has been emerging. She of course still has a doggy-sisterly relationship with Mia- she had that right away- but even cuter is how she has gotten to the cat. The cat loves her! It is seriously adorable.

One of the best things about Minxie is how she has shown herself to be a true desert pirate dog- look what she does! This is not something anyone taught her- she will just jump onto/perch on your shoulders like a wannabe parrot, it's hyterical. Weird dog!

I really love this little freak. She has wiggled her way into my heart and she's there to stay. I think it's safe to say the feeling is mutual...

...right, Minx? ♥

el paso rides

2009-04-30T18:10:00.003-06:00

Just a lil un-subtle promo for the website I recently created, eprides.com. Feel free to visit. Nudge, nudge.

(vr)ooh(m)-la-la

2009-04-26T23:43:00.010-06:00

It's been such a long time since I posed for pictures that I forgot how much fun modeling can be... *makes Zoolander Faces*... this afternoon, I had an totally impromptu photo shoot w my man... I got to play pinup on the bike and vamp it up and we had such a killer time. We'd been out on a bike run and had a few drinks in us, and we started talking about shooting photos again which led to us deciding to spur-of-the-moment ride out to the desert to shoot some pics like we've been talking about doing for forever now (well ok 2 months) So we left the bar, swung by my place, I stuffed a few dresses in the backpack, we rode out to the desert on the fringes of town and found a random remote dirt road to turn on. It was windy as Hell out there, and the wind kept whipping my hair into my face and making my right eye water like a leaky faucet, but despite the challenges, we pressed on with our spontaneous desert photo shoot (what troopers! :P)

The result was a great ride on a beautiful day and some photos (shot by him) that I really, really love.

Here are a few of them, hope you enjoy :)

(special thanks to my Red Light for taking such wonderful shots of me, he did such stellar job that I felt like a pinup babe all day long... *muah* baby!)

artful dodger

2009-03-02T17:52:00.005-07:00

After having one of the most blood-pressure-raising, hair-twisting, nail-biting stressful weeks I have had in recent memory, I decided to go into 'hiding' and submerge myself into a nice warm mental-bubbly-bath of all things art. I needed to strip it all down and reboot my life, and that is the best place to start. I've done nothing but draw, paint, draw... and it's been lovely.

I woke up yesterday feeling like I had somehow gotten my mojo back :D
I have been waiting for this.
Watch out, world.

Here is a portrait called Doll, which I did for my BFF dollface... it had been languishing unseen & unfinished on my desktop for months, and now, it is whole (and per usual, click the pic to see the much-superior large-sized version):

And a photo of the lady herself for comparison:

She loved it and I am glad. I have another one lined up for finishing tonight, I am determined to finish all of my unfinished babies. Art is saving my life right now.

As always, I am available for custom portraits, so contact me if interested. Ciao.

from Rogue to rouge

2009-02-13T15:03:00.011-07:00

After 2+ years of having 20% more fun, I finally decided I needed a change from the blonde streaks. Behold, my new (non-Jamaican non-alcoholic) red stripe...

As much as I loved my pale Rogue streaks, 2+ years of bleaching totally puts a strain on the hair... I'd been thinking of going to a darker color for awhile now cause my hair definitely needed the break. I always knew I wanted to try red but wasn't sure which shade... I wanted something that would still be high contrast and I am happy that I found just the perfect color for what I had in mind.

Red dye is a bloody (pun intended) mess, though... my bathroom looked like a murder scene when I was done.

My hair has grown out a little too, and I am liking the length right now... I can get a little more girlygirl with it if I wanna. I can't wait to try putting up those 2 little front pinup twists in my hair now that it's red- it's gonna look like little devil horns mwahahaha >:D

Funny that I have come full circle with the red; the first time I bleached out my streaks originally, I got a very um, interesting reddish hue, unintended and unwanted...

It took many months and many bleaching/toning sessions to get the red out (sorry visine) to the point where it finally looked blonde...

A few more months got it to a pale-white blonde at last, I loved it but it was a lot of upkeep to keep it that way, James Marsters I feel your Buffy-era pain.

So last year when I needed a big change, I chopped my hair off for the first time in over 10 years... 10 years!! Whatup, shorty?

And I am loving the shorter do, especially when I think about how I have cut my shower time down by like half a freaking hour (waist-length hair is a damned pain to wash-rinse-repeat) It was just time for another change. And the red was it. What do you think, dahlinks?

*heads off to jam out to Moulin Rouge soundtrack*

Minxed!

2009-02-02T00:07:00.008-07:00

So I got myself into another foster situation (this year so far I have fostered & found homes for 2 stray cats and one wayward turtle)... this time it was 2 little dogs- a snow white poodle & a jet black terrier- whom my uncle found wandering near an intersection together, lost, dirty & hungry. The poodle was obviously boss lady, with the little terrier shadowing her every move, which was cartoonishly cute. Both dogs had (dirty grimy) sweaters on, but had no collars, tags, or microchips to identify them, so we ran ads in the paper and alerted all the vet clinics in the area. No one claimed them.

The poodle was eventually adopted by a friend of my aunt's and is reportedly doing great in her new home, with new friends both canine & human. The little terrier is still here with me, however, and I have a sneaking feeling that I'm being slowly but surely seduced by the pint sized thing.

Because of her feisty personality I began calling her The Minx, and it sorta stuck. And this is The Minx (chillin' here w my chihuahua Mia):

Check out those ears! The vet said that Minx is about 10 months old and is most likely full grown, which is funny because this dog is practically pocket-sized. I've always thought my chihuahua Mia was tiny, but this pooch makes her look like a big dawg. They are close in age- both still in puppy mode- so they've been tearing shit up like trashed rock stars in a fancy hotel together. Ah, puppies.

My sis-in-law thinks they look like peanut butter & chocolate- so I guess that together, they combine to make an adorable canine version of a Reese's PB Cup..?

So what to do with this insanely-cute, Muppetlike little creature? I think she wants to stay- she sure seems to have become at home here, she's even made friends with the cat.

And every time I think about finding her a home, she gives me those heartbreaking puppy eyes (see image above, doh)... it's like she knooooooows and she is saying 'pleaseplease let me stay, lady'!

We shall see, puppy, we shall see...

true sounds of liberty

2009-01-28T16:13:00.011-07:00

This past Monday I got a real old skool punk rock treat- I got to see TSOL perform live right here in El Paso.

For those of you who remember True Sounds Of Liberty & the early 80's punk rock scene, it was just as good as you'd think it would be, and hella exciting to see them live in 2009. It was a total blast from my punk rock past. For those of you who don't remember them, they are a legendary Orange County punk band from way back. Here they are playing 'Darker My Love' in the cult classic movie Suburbia:

We lucked out & got to meet singer Jack Grisham after the show, which was such an OMG moment for me. He still looks fantastic- sexy as Hell (those eyes!!)- and he was so supernice! It always rocks when your music idols turn our to be legitimately cool people. The show was amazing, and it got me so fired up. Now if only Black Flag & the Dead Kennedys would come to town doh....

The look on my face there is totally such an 'omigod Jack Grisham is touching me' fangirl look! Heh heh.

EP's punkers showed up in full force and gave the love. It was awesome. All the bands said they loved the El Paso vibe and had a blast playing for our crowd, which makes mama proud!

Viva La True Sounds Of Liberty. Viva PUNK ROCK!

2 girls, not even half the cup

2009-01-09T13:25:00.009-07:00

So last night, these tough guys (said tough guys being my cousin Mike, his lady Amber, and our friend Buffalo) were SURE that they could handle watching the infamous 2 Girls 1 Cup video w/out cringing... keep in mind, they had NO IDEA what the 2G1C vid was, all they had seen were the hilarious 2G1C reaction videos that I had been showing them (if you are unaware of what 2G1C is, well, I feel unclean even trying to explain, so here, look it up on Wikipedia)

I tried to warn them. They wouldn't listen.

So I agreed to ruin them forever by showing them the vid, on the condition that I got to tape their reactions. And so, for your viewing amusement, here it is...

As you can see, they didn't even last 15 seconds... WUSSES! And yes that is me laughing maniacally while the tough guys are retching, crying, and pouring bleach onto their soiled eyeballs hahahhahhaaa...

ad astra per aspera

2009-01-07T18:16:00.004-07:00

Yesterday I got a new tattoo (oh I love new ink), and, here 'tis.

It's a tribute to my babydog Dearly, who passed away last week. But it's also in memory of all of the pets that I have loved & lost so far in my lifetime... Nico, Tiger, Quiche, Radar, Rasta & Piewicket... 7 in all, and a star for each one...

I will add another star for every future pet as well as time goes on. I wanted something old-skool simple and symbolic- like stars- and something that could be added to, but wasn't sure what exactly beyond that... my tattooist Francella (@ Sinister Pleasures here in EPTX) hooked me up with the idea for the stars to trail from ankle to foot, and it was a fab idea, I love the way it turned out, she did a stellar job as usual.

So in addition to being sentimental, it's also cute... good good. I really like that there is a tiny star in there too, because to me, that one is especially for Piewicket, who was just a tiny baby kitten (we had just 1 month together but I adored little Pie) when a stupid dog mauled and killed the poor thing.

I can't wait til it heals. On a side note, damn does it hurt to get tattooed on the foot.

living dead girl

2009-01-01T15:22:00.006-07:00

Recently I did some modeling for my good friend Bobby, who was doing a series of Dios De Los Muertos inspired work... it was really fun getting made up, dressed up, and channeling the deathly ill-fated bride for these photos...

Here's a peek at a few of them, more of the series can be seen on Bobby's site here... also you can see more of his awesome film & photography work on his website Vaboom.com, check it out.

I had such a good time working with Bobbo (and Valerie, and Manny...)... I really hope we get to do another similar project soon... *hint hint guys*!

Last but not least.... Bobby's work was recently shown at The Percolator, it was a great show complete with bellydancers, flamenco, comedy, live music, and some amazing photography & film work by Bobby... here's a slideshow peek at the shots I took of the proceedings, it was good times...

home, oh erect us!

2008-12-31T09:40:00.012-07:00

It's been awhile since I've posted pics of my home sweet mobile home, so I thought I'd share some recent ones. As you can see, wow- I actually have some real furniture (furniture that's not lawn chairs!) now. And no more clothes hanging in the kitchen ha...

The red velvet couch & chair were found tossed out on the side of a road, not in the best of shape but a definite upgrade from lawn chairs. The Heather street sign behind the sink was stolen by a couple of my hooligan sk8r friends way back in high school...

My bedroom is finally shaping up, too... nasty wallpaper is gone and I've moved much of my own stuff in. As always, my chichi Mia loves to post up on top of my pillows like the little chihuahua princess that she thinks she is...

My dressing table has somehow been developing a punk-pirate Adam Ant-ish vibe... definitely still a work in progress though, I still have stuff to unpack yet. Ugh, unpacking.

I would show you the bathroom, but, well, it's so tiny that I can't really get in there to get a photo! Anyway you get the idea...

And finally, here's a shot of the view from my back deck... I do get the most incredible freaking sunsets out here...

This place is finally starting to feel like home, and I'm looking forward to starting the new year here. May it be a good and happy one for us all.

Dearly, departed

2008-12-30T12:28:00.004-07:00

This past Saturday night, my much-adored dog Dearly died in my arms.

I haven't been able to write about it because I have been heartbroken... well, I am still crushed. But I want to leave a memorial here for my beautiful Dearly-dog. So I'll do my best. Forgive me if I'm still a bit um, overwrought...

Back in July when Dearly mysteriously went blind overnight, the vet warned me that there might be underlying problems that she couldn't really diagnose or reverse. One possibility for the blindness was a brain tumor or some sort of aneurysm (they can't diagnose those things by x-ray because of the skull, it would take an MRI which costs approx $1500-2000 and can't even be done locally)... and these things, even if they could identify them.... they couldn't have done anything about them. The best (and only) thing we could do was to take Dearly home and to try to keep her happy and help her manage with the blindness, and if she started becoming sick or distressed take her back to the vet. And thus we have been since July... Dearly actually adjusted to her loss of sight quickly, like a champ, and she'd been her sweet lovable self ever since.

Then for a few days last week she didn't seem to want to eat as much as usual. But she was still her regular happy self, seemed ok in every other way, so I got some different dog food (thinking maybe she just didn't like the other) and kept an eye on her... and she actually seemed to feel a little better. Then this past Saturday night she suddenly started acting sick again, and vomited once. After that she became really lethargic, she almost seemed like she was drugged... could barely stand, seemed drowsy. I laid her down on her pillow and her nose and lips were icy-cold. I covered her up in blankets and me and my cousin took turns holding her for awhile... she warmed up a bit but she never regained alertness, she was just limp in our arms, and very quiet.

A few hours later, she was back on her pillow and I was on the floor beside her petting her when she suddenly stood up and staggered onto my lap. I wrapped my arms around her body meaning to hold her when she made a little coughing sound and went limp in my arms. At that exact moment I felt her heart stop beating against my hand, which was cradling her under her chest, she was still standing in my lap but she was... gone. Her head went heavy onto my chest and her breath sighed once and she was gone in my arms. Just like that.

The horrible feeling that opened up in my chest at that moment just won't seem to go away. I know her prognosis wasn't too great 6 months ago but I still for some reason cannot believe she is gone. Ever since I rescued her from a cemetery death-trap years ago, Dearly has been my literal shadow... trailing closely by my side every single time I moved, and I am not exaggerating. So her absence, and the silence when I walk (I can't get used to not hearing that tickticktick of her nails against the floor)... it's just overwhelming me still.

She was really special to me and I hope her spirit is somehow still trailing me even now... because I just can't bear to think she's gone. Goodnight, Dearly-dog... I love you very much mama. I know I'll see you again someday.

RIP Dearly D. Parted

go be a snake

2008-11-29T22:29:00.006-07:00

Life. Life life life life. What the Hell. Last time I posted here with the utmost naivete... talking about happiness with such simplicity... like it was ever that easy? It never is. And that's the beauty of it, in retrospect. Right?

As I write this I am not sober... I am riding on a warm lovely wave of drunken buzziness that tingles my limbs and lubricates my brain... lately I am learning to love myself so much, and also to be easier on myself, and to take care of myself. And to recognize the BULLSHIT. And to call it out when I see it. Last time I posted here I had a 'boyfriend'. A 24-year old, motorcycle-racing, death-defying, drug-snorting boyfriend. And wtf was I thinking on that one? Yeah. 35-year-old midlife crisis insanity... riding on the back of a bike at 195 mph... playing with guns and snakes and all manner of dangerous things that I would normally have a much healthier sense of respect for... who knows what I was thinking? But I straightened my shit and dumped the loser, and I got it together again. Dumbass Shady!

Right now I am in such a state of pureness... so in touch with myself. I am in love with life. I am letting myself go. I am feeling it all. Yeah yeah fuckers I know- you're all like "daaaaamn she's so wasted right right now!" ... and yeah, I am! But I am being sincere. Life is good. Life is worth living. It really is.

So last post I mentioned that I had inherited a pet snake- a 4 foot+ bull snake- and last week, I walked out into the desert and set him free. I watched him slither into the sandy desert floor, watched him feeling his freedom at last... and I told him, "Go be a snake, old man"... and he sidewinded off into the wild. It was fucking beautiful.
I let a little piece of myself go with him, into the wild, into freedom. Viva!

taser guns + alcohol equals...

2008-11-05T14:39:00.003-07:00

So last night we were hanging at my house when my crazy cousin Mike decided to see what it would be like to taser himself.

Here's what happened. Don't try this at home, kids.

shady for president

2008-09-24T21:43:00.003-06:00

Vote for me!!

Ok not for president. That's a job I'd never want! But you can help me out by voting on my photos in the Capture El Paso project...

Capture El Paso is a project where EP photographers submit their work to be included in a coffee table book. The images used will be chosen by vote. It's a pretty cool idea, and you can see (& vote on!) all of my submitted photos here. Also, look through the site in general- there are a ton of great El Paso photographers on there... enjoy!

And thanks ;)

home is where the start is

2008-09-21T16:33:00.008-06:00

I'll start this off with a shot of the great full moon view I had recently at my new place...

There are these really great old vintage-style lampposts in the park I live in, I love them... and the other night they were lined up perfectly as if leading to the fat shiny moon in the sky. Dreamy.

So as you can tell, I am totally wrapped up in my new place right now. I spent the week cleaning, packing, painting, & preparing and I spent my first night here on Thursday (after a 16-hour-long day of moving!!) And laying my head down and going to sleep inside the box-filled, messy cocoon of my very own place was exciting, scary, disorienting, exhausting & thrilling all at once.

There is still a ton of work to be done- tiling & painting the living room, then bringing in the rest of the furniture- but for now I have a habitable space to live in and it's awesome. I am sort of roughing it, though... the gas is not hooked up yet, so I'm cooking on a hot plate and taking ice cold showers, doing it campground stylee, at least til Monday when I should have the gas connected. Also cable is not hooked up to the TV yet so I have been watching DVDs at night, and damn, I have a lot of zombie movies. All of which I have been watching so it's been like a little zombie flick marathon over here!

It's cool to look around and see some of my stuff scattered around, even in this chaotic state. And I've got my computer hooked up and internet connected, so my lifeline is intact.

My bedroom is the most 'finished' room so far, as the floor and the paint is done, and I've moved furniture in. Of course everything is all mismatched because I am working with purely donated stuff right now... as far as stuff like that goes, and curtains and linens and all that I have some nice things, only they are in storage still. So I've got this insane sort of color non-scheme going on at the moment ha. But at least it's comfy and cozy!

It's nice to surround myself with things that remind me of people that I love. The side tables belonged to my sister, and she also gave me the beautiful red lamp for my birthday one year. An angel and a wooden chest that are sitting on the tables were given to me by my Grandmother. The angel is a reminder of my Mom, the chest used to hold my Gramma's letters & keepsakes when she was very young, now it holds my jewelry.

And I also got the bathroom in my bedroom painted, tiled & cleaned up. It doesn't look like much yet but just remember how atrocious it was before... *shudders* I look forward to my first HOT shower in it! :P

So me & the critters are getting settled in and are happy in our new home. I'm so so exhausted, I have scrubbed and cleaned so many little nooks, crannies, and surfaces that I feel like I am getting to know every square inch of this place-literally! It's taken days just to get to the point where I can eat, sleep, shower and move around comfortably, and still lots more work to do, but it's a good kind of exhausting. And it's so very quiet out here at night, peaceful and still. I am loving it so far.

I haven't been able to do much online than a quick scan of emails and such, I've been super busy and then, super tired! Trying to catch sleep when & where I can. So if I have been MIA that is the reason why. But hopefully I'll get things in hand soon, and get back to my regular life & online routines. I'm looking forward to the housewarming party! *grin*

almost home

2008-09-16T12:02:00.008-06:00

When I got to my new place yesterday afternoon to do some work, I found this in my backyard and wondered if I should start worrying:

Is it just me, or does it look like it's ready for a coffin??! But no worries- it's just something the gas company is doing in my backyard, no idea what exactly, but I'm pretty sure it involves gas lines and not dead bodies (I hope!!) 0.o

So this is what my place looks like right now, TOTAL disaster area! Mostly though it's just stuff that we're working with to renovate, so it will be cleared out soon...

Yeah, I have clothes hanging in the kitchen right now. What, you don't? Ha no really, it's because there are currently no rods in my closets (painting etc) so this is where they stay for now...

Here is the brand new flooring we are putting down, in the first room we finished, the master bedroom. I love it. Man I hated that ugly wallpaper though!! *shudder*

...so I painted over it! Here is a (HORRIBLE) shot of the new wall color, which looks absolutely nothing like the actual wall color (just look at the difference in the tile color between these two pics and you can see just how OFF the color is in the second shot) I'll have to get a better-lit shot to post when I am finished because it's actually a great color- a sort of red-based gray/brown, almost like burnt cinnamon (though for some reason here it just looks pinkish, and it's not pink at all!) Very warm & cozy and just dark enough. And no more ugly wallpaper yay.

Here are a few shots of my awesome views from my new place. It's so wide open and peaceful out there, and the sunsets and skyscapes are just spectacular. Expect lots of sky shots from me after I move in!

If all goes well I will be spending my first night in my new place on Thursday and I am beyond excited about that. I'll definitely keep you all posted.

And all posts on the progress of my very first home (I'm a homeowner!! OMG) can be found here, fyi.

story of a picture: reflection

2008-09-10T15:31:00.003-06:00

I was thinking earlier today about photography, and the stories behind photos... a picture says a thousand words and all, but, as a photographer I am always curious about the story behind the images. And so I've decided to start a new category here to tell you some of the stories behind my images. Off we go.

This is one of my favorite images. It was shot on an overcast day in the Pine Barrens of Jackson, New Jersey (*cue Johnny & June singing Jackson inside my head*), sometime in '99 as best I recall. And I do remember this day well...

I had just moved to New Jersey at the time... I was adjusting to a foreign home on the east coast, 2159.20 miles away from the West Texas desert I grew up in... and a whole different world from anything I'd ever encountered. I was definitely a stranger in a strange land up there; there was some extreme culture shock at the beginning for sure. It was an adventure, though... I was still a new bride at that time, and remember being very much in that mode... just starting out in love and happy and looking forward to roses and daisies and fluffy bunnies and all that stuff. For me it was an exciting time in my life. Of course it all came to a really bad, sad end years later, which makes this photo sort of a bittersweet thing to look at, for me.

I had the day to myself that day, everyone else was working. On days like that I used to grab my camera and hop into my truck and just randomly drive around, usually in search of an abandoned place to explore. It was so weird for me, living in the middle of the woods... it was disorienting when it came to getting around because I grew up in a flat desert land and I always had my Franklin Mountains as a landmark. In Jersey I was surrounded on all sides by either towering forest, or towering city buildings, depending on which part of my Jersey life we are talking about. I remember finding this place- a small abandoned cottage- not too far from our apartment and being happy to have discovered it. I remember wondering about the people who might have lived there and feeling sure somehow that it had been a couple in love. I really wanted to capture the overcast skies and the puddles and drippy branches and everything, there was a real melancholy air to this place.

I got this particular shot in the driveway... I remember noticing the tree-shaped puddle on the ground and then watching how perfectly the tree's reflection fit into it when I moved into the right angle, like magic. I loved the deep, wet, gray colors and the rough glimmer on the pavement. My favorite part was the yellow leaf floating on the water, I loved how it seemed to be caught in the branch-reflection. I remember the crisp chill in the air and the smell of rain and wet leaves. I remember feeling very peaceful and content at the moment I took this picture.

I can see a lot of different meanings in this photograph, from the juxtaposition of life & death, to the contrast of reality & reflection... but mostly the meanings are much more personal to me.

It reminds me of the beginning of a story that you have already read through once... and even though you know it's headed toward an unhappy ending, you can still take something from the unaware beauty of that moment, nonetheless.

movin on up, to the east side

2008-09-09T17:30:00.009-06:00

So I haven't posted anything about my move yet, because... I haven't moved. Literally. I have been sitting frozen- in the exact same position- for a month now. Somebody call Guinness Records!! Haha. But seriously, I haven't moved into my new place yet and I am sooo antsy I could just about climb these walls.

Last time I wrote about it, the mobile home had yet to be moved to the lot. Well after a day riddled with a string of unfortunate events (!), my gigantic snail shell of a home finally made it, and we've since been working on getting it fit to be lived in. It was really awesome to get my new key, I did a little dorked out dance and everything.

The biggest problem with getting it done (man I am such a pottymouth I almost used another term there, one that rhymes with sockrock I need to get ahold of myself!! LOL) so far has been getting the water & gas lines hooked up. I never knew that hooking up a mobile home was so damned complicated but yes- you have to have certified people to do certain things, and there are ridiculous amounts of permits, and inspections, and blah blah blah and it turns out all of this takes forever and is a great big pain. During this whole process I had this crazy trench around my place for weeks and I had to tease my overprotective Dad that he was secretly setting up a moat around my mobile home. I kept asking him when the alligators were gonna get there...

Until this Trench Of Doom was filled in, we couldn't put the air conditioning in (as it has to be installed up against the side of the mobile home) And so you know there was no way I was able to move in yet- not with our crazy-hot Texas weather.

One thing that happened when they excavated this freakin' trailer-tributary was that all these itty bitty little frogs came out and have been kicking it, hoppity hop style in & around my yard. Super cute little frogs!

My yard is spacious, and really peaceful. It's gonna be strange to go from living right in the crowded, always-noisy Central heart of El Paso to the wide open, crazy-quiet East Side desert. I'm gonna get some amazing sunsets out there and I plan on putting up a bat house to hopefully attract some of the adorable batsies I see flapping around at night out there.

There's going to be a wooden deck out here in the back and everyone is already joking about me out there in the rocking chair with the corncob pipe. Ha, ha.

To bring it up to date, my dad got the first air conditioner in today and is installing one more tomorrow, and after that I can start moving in. Which means that right now I am wracking my brain over paint colors and other such stuff while trying to ready myself for moving the estimated, oh, one ton of stuff I have to move from here to there.

So... who's gonna come down and help me move?? :P

in real life

2008-09-08T15:32:00.004-06:00

I sort of didn't realize that I'd been missed here until I got a few 'hey where the f**k are you' comments & emails, my bad. I dunno why I've been so absent... ok, well I do, but I kinda hate writing about it...

Having blogged for the better part of a decade now (8+ years in various formats!), it seems weird for me to be shying away from it after all this time. But I got burned so bad after being so publicly open about my life for so long- it was all good & well when things were going good... but when I had problems it turned nasty fast. There's such a fine line to blogging when it comes to privacy- if you keep it too anonymous, who wants to read it? I know that my favorite bloggers are the ones who allow peeks and glimpses into their personal lives, whatever their chosen blog topics may be. That's the flava. But putting personal details out there is risky at best and downright dangerous at worst. I mean, no, my actual birth name is not Heather Shade (but it's official enough at this point to count *wink*); that came about after my early years online, when publishing my photography & writing under my real name led to some really scary situations- I had total random strangers track me down! And I am not talking interesting mysterious type strangers I'm talking these kind:

Gifs at Giftube.com

So for practical reasons, I try to keep myself a bit anonymous, nowadays, you kinda have to. But I am also a pretty open person and I like sharing my tales with you guys, and for the most part, it's 98% LOVE in return from my readers. Problem is that the other 2% is a bitch...

People can be totally evil online. Trust me on this!

In fact that should be the caveat that comes with any type of public posting... people can be dicks. All that anonymity allows the worst to come right out, and people do and say things they'd never in a million years do in real life. And lately I've been having thoughts about what I am posting, even though I think I keep it pretty confidential now. It's easy to post about art and photography and tattoos and stuff but when I have deeper stuff going on it's another story... I am a bit paranoid now, I think.

And lately I have some more personal stuff going on, which is not at all unusual (it's life) but I haven't wanted to post about any of it. I've just sort of been in my own little world I guess. I've gotten pretty used to going out by myself... I've developed this weird stubborn independent streak, and even while I sometimes do hate heading out alone I always feel this strange, unfamiliar pride in it because damn it I am not just sitting around at home I am doing stuff. There's always shit to do, whether I'm solo or not. And I'm actually getting used to it... I just hope I don't get too independent, you know, to the point where I become all loner-ed out heheh. It's weird right now for me to post about it, though, even though I'm not sure exactly why?

So basically, I am just trying to find that balance between life out there, and life inside this glowing little box here. I'm all off-balance and stuff because so much in my life is changing so fast right now... it's like walking... no, running... running down one of those people-mover thingys that they have at airports, moving faster than the world is moving around you... very disorienting. I'm in process of moving (really slowly and a lot of work!) and trying to juggle a bunch of stuff besides. I've just gotten lost in the rat race. Writing is a good thing for me though, so I shouldn't neglect it and I'll try not to.

And now, a random shot of the pretty-much-healed zombie babe, for those of you who asked for a zoomed-out shot to show the size of it...

my day in pictures

2008-08-27T15:33:00.008-06:00

I finally made it to Sinister Pleasures so my girl Francella could finish my coverup tattoo, we did the final 3 hours on it and without any air-conditioning the entire time (it was broken) cause we're hardcore bitches like that. Heh.

The before and after... and Francella did this coverup FREEHAND. She is incredible!!! My goal is to eventually have a devil-girl on the other side that resembles my little sister (as the zombie pinup girl is meant to resemble me!)

After the tat sesh I went to Francella's to hang awhile and I held a snake! I. Held. A. Snake. Might not sound weird unless you know how scared I was of doing that (I adore snakes, but got bitten once and have been a bit nervous to hold one ever since) This was the coolest, most laid-back snake I have ever seen. Thanks, snake!

Then I drove home in a pouring monsoon of rain. Everything looked so beautiful, the sky was so bright, and even the dirty asphalt was sparkling like jewels. I heart rain.

The End.

my cat = alarm clock kitteh!

2008-08-25T23:54:00.012-06:00

Oh my lordy my cat is famous!

Today while randomly surfing icanhascheezburger.com I found a picture of MY cat, look here!
I heart lolcats, and that is the best site for them on teh interwebs, so I am actually pretty flattered... and of course I have to give props to my model-slash-crazy-cat Bela...

This is my original image:

Here is one more from the flying cat series:

Yep Bela is a little insane.
And no.... no kittehs were harmed in the making of this photo! Bela is a ninjacat and will climb onto & jump off of anything and everything he can. And these shots involved the use of a laser pointer, a tripod, a LOT of patience, the assistance of my best friend, and maybe a little catnip. Heh heh. It took about 50 tries to actually get anything other than a blurred gray streak, and these were the only two shots that actually came out ok... but so worth it lol.

Anyway, more of my Bela pics here if you are interested.

book review: Hooked

2008-08-23T18:02:00.007-06:00

A Thriller About Love And Other Addictions

Medical journalist Nat Idle is relaxing in an Internet cafe when a mysterious, barely-glimpsed woman slips an anonymous note onto his table, a note warning him to 'Get out of the cafe- NOW!' Moments later Nat narrowly escapes death as the cafe explodes behind him on his way out. Thus begins Matt Richtel's thriller, Hooked.

And that's just the beginning of a tangled tale of love, technology, lies, murder, and above all, addiction.

It gets even weirder when Nat realizes that the handwriting on the note belongs to the dead girlfriend that he's still grieving over. Both his personal and journalistic curiosities kick into overdrive, and Nat begins a feverish search for the truth which quickly leads him into a maze of danger and deceit which threatens his sanity as well as his life. Along the way he meets some who can either help or harm him, and much of the time it's almost impossible to tell which is which. This is a story where everyone has a potential agenda (or two) and Nat can trust no one, not even his own failing senses.

Hooked explores the complex workings of the human brain and asks, what is love? What is experience? What is memory? And in a world where our subliminal senses can be more and more subtly manipulated... what is actually real? Nat slowly unravels a web of technological horror that is a threat to anyone who comes into contact with it. To say more would give away the twists and turns, of which there are very, very many!

I enjoyed this novel, and I would recommend it to anyone who likes thrillers with a technological twist and a peek into the psyche. With it's clever secrets and it's many questions about love and human experience, Hooked is a thought-provoking race to the finish.

For more info on Hooked and other work by Matt Richtel, visit his official website.

tonight I will wear blue

2008-08-21T18:09:00.004-06:00

It's Thursday again, and that means... girl's night out woot!

I've been waiting for tonight all week long. I'm ready to whoop and holler. Well, maybe not holler. People may think I'm a little bit insane if I just HOLLER. I just might give a 'whoop-whoop' though.

I can tell that I am getting better because I actually want to go out. I am excited about it, even. When my depression is rearing it's butt-ugly head I have a hard time even leaving my room. I become Hermit Woman... and if there was a cave handy with connection to teh internets I would so be there. That feeling has gradually been fading the past few weeks, and I am so grateful. I'm ready to come out of this stifling shell. I have a lot to thank Dollface for, as she's always, always ready & willing to be my sidekick on these Thursday night adventures.

I'm going to wear electric blue tonight... I am craving more color in my life lately. I want to sweep the dark stuff aside and see the colorful stuff underneath. I can't remember the last time I ventured out in anything that wasn't dark or muted. Tonight feels like a good night for electric blue... bzzzzt!

Tonight I will wear blue, tonight I will drink cranberry juice + vodka and listen to karaoke. Tonight I will tell my BFF some secrets and some jokes... tonight I will laugh, and smoke a cigarette or two, and be open to the possibilities... tonight, I will let my (much-shorter!) hair down and let myself be myself.

I can't wait.

merde!

2008-08-20T20:37:00.008-06:00

So I am sitting here relieved and frankly, kinda pissed. I just went through an awful 3 days preparing for the death of my 14 year old dog Courtney. Only to find out that she has a severe case of...... constipation. Constipation!! Yep.

This is the Courtster (hanging with her kitty friend Sabre) She's a supersweet, lovable Spaniel mix who I have had since she was a wee pup. This dog was given to me just after my Mom's sudden death 14 years ago, at a time when I was so overwhelmed with grief that I could not eat, sleep, or even speak. At the time I couldn't even summon the strength to care enough to take care of myself. Watching my Mom's terrible death had left me shell-shocked and lost. But then someone handed me this needy, homeless baby puppy and I looked at those brown eyes, and had no choice but to love her. I took her in. And then I had this little life to take care of, and it helped me to survive that horrible time. It channeled my energy and pulled me out of my fog of grief.

This is an old pic, I've had her such a long time! This was me & my chubby puppy maybe 10 years ago?

Anyway. Last weekend, Courtney seemed to be having a bit of a problem with dropping the kids off at the pool. She couldn't launch a sub, couldn't chuck the football. You know, she just could not um..... well it rhymes with 'make a spit'. So I took her to the vet on Monday because she has had this problem in the past and it's usually an easy fix (you want no more detail than that, trust me) So I told the doc what her history was, thinking he'd do the usual fix (which rhymes with schmenema) Instead, he ignores me completely and orders a round of (expensive) x-rays & blood tests.

After the tests he brings me back into the x-ray suite, and shows me her x-ray. He says that there is a huge mass in her belly area, and that it was NOT there a month & a half ago (when she had to have an emergency surgery) And he says because it's so big, and has grown so fast, he's pretty sure it's cancer, and that the 'prognosis is very, very poor' He says that due to the 'deadly cancer' and her old age, his advice is to just go ahead and put her down right away. Well, I'm never one to give up on my babies so easily (yeah you guys know that by now right? Haha) So I say what are the alternatives. He says a very risky $300 exploratory surgery. I say, can't we try an enema or some other treatment first, since you're not even sure WHAT the 'mass' could be? And then maybe do a second round of x-rays? He says no, it won't do any good. He has to put her on an IV for 2 days and then do the surgery. And he assures me that he really does not expect her to survive this.

So I try to prepare myself.
I left her there and went home crying. I went back yesterday to say 'goodbye' to her... sitting on the floor on front of her cage and curling my fingers through the bars while she whined and touched my hands with her paws. I told her how much I love her and that she will always be my babydog. Because of the IV and stuff I couldn't even open the cage to hold or pet her. It was excruciating. So I tried to make my peace and leave her with some love. Again, I came home crying.

Today was surgery day. I had tossed & turned all night long, feeling sick to my stomach. The hours passed by so slowly. Finally the news came of Courtney's surgery.

And guess what.

They opened the poor girl up, put her 14 year old body through all of that surgical stress, and found nothing. No tumor, no cancer, nothing whatsoever other than a badly constipated canine.

Now, as relieved as I am to know that she doesn't have some awful deadly cancer, I am also pissed, because had the vet just listened to me I'm betting they would not have seen a 'mass' in her belly. Now she has to go through a long recovery process from the needless surgery. In my (humble) opinion, they should have tried an enema first, then an x-ray... they might have seen that that 'mass' had um, moved along after the enema. Have they never heard of the scientific principle of Occam's razor, for pete's sake??! (Occam's razor= 'All other things being equal, the simplest solution is the best'... I am not a doctor but I do watch one on House! :P)

Now they suspect that maybe the mass was food that couldn't pass into the intestines. DUH. I wish they would have listened to me, we could have avoided all the stress, trauma, surgery, and oh yes the almost $400 vet bill!!

Anyway... *deep breaths*... at least she is ok. I am thankful for that. I know she's 14 and she's not gonna live forever, but thank goodness I did not listen to them on Monday and just 'put her down' Can you imagine- I would have put my dog to sleep for being constipated. And that is scary stuff.

And PS I never ever expected to blog the word 'enema' so many times- let alone ever- in my blog, lol. I will most likely get some um interesting search results as a consequence ha ha hahaha.....

BFF

2008-08-15T16:34:00.005-06:00

So I went out with my girl Dollface last night, and we had such a great time... ohhhh, I love how much we laugh when we go out! It's killer. The bar's karaoke alone last night had us in stitches, it was beyond great... we kept convincing people to go up and sing hilariously mismatched songs (watching tough boyz singing Hit Me Baby One More Time and Purple Rain was soooo funny, woot!) and we had so much fun.

And today I was thinking about how lucky I am to have met this awesome chick.

It's been a long time since I have felt like a had a really close girlfriend, and Dollface is definitely it. I felt good friendship chemistry from the very first time I met her, literally. She's got a great vibe and I knew she was someone I wanted to hang out with.

And since then, I've been so grateful for having her. She really is my BFF.

She never, ever gives up on me. Even when I am having really bad problems with my depression, she is patient and she is there long after everyone else takes their toys & goes home. I've had to break plans with her so many times- because of cars problems, or pet problems, or health problems- and she never complains or even has an attitude about it. She is so understanding. She never forgets about me and she never blows me off. I like that we can talk about anything. I think I understand her, and I'm sure she understands me. She's also got a great laugh and totally brings out the comedienne in me cause I like to make her laugh! And that's always a good thing. I am such a total goofball when I hang out with her.

I've just been thinking bout how glad I am to have her in my life.
Thanks for being my besty, Doll!!

Oh... and here's a bonus shot of new hair from last night :P

art attack

2008-08-14T17:46:00.002-06:00

As promised, I have added a new artwork page to HeatherShade.com. Enjoy.

taking a shortcut

2008-08-13T03:22:00.011-06:00

(first off an apology for the craptacular quality of the following photos, they were shot in the only mirror I have: a tiny, ancient, stained, warped mirror hanging in a very dimly-lit bathroom)

So... I did it. I cut my hair!
And I love it.

It's a bit messy here because I shot this after I got had gotten soaked in rain, and then fallen asleep on my bed for 2 hours (well the bed was just so cozy after the rain, and the chihuahua was just so cuddly... heh) And even messy, I still like how it looks (though I shoulda taken a photo of it right after the blowout when it was all perfect and purty, duh) I can't wait to play around with it.

My stylist braided it first so I could save the hair, and it felt crazy when she cut the long, heavy braid off... like my head was going to float away, light as a balloon... 14 years of hair detached from me... it was exciting and freeing. It was funny because the whole salon- even the customers- watched, and let out a collective "ooooh" when she cut it free!

Here is the foot-long+ braid I got to keep as a souvenir...

This is my happy face- happy to no longer have a few extra feet of heavy hair to haul around! And no longer do I have to stand up while getting haircuts. Heh.

My fabulous stylist is Susan at Hair Biz btw, she's incredible. One thing I love is how she cut the layers just so, so that it's a little bit edgy- I could go totally 80's new wave Teri-Nunn-ish with it- but she also made sure I could go softer with waves and my 50's pinup-inspired styles too. We talked a bit about what I wanted beforehand, and I told her my look veers between rockabilly-80's-punk... and I think she gave me exactly what I wanted. I just love it.

I'm supposed to go out for a girl's night with my girly Dollface on Thursday and I'll see if she will get a few (better!) shots of my new hair because I know these kinda suck... *wink*

Thank to those of you who encouraged my scaredy-cat ass to go ahead and cut it already. I was totally confident when I did it so it was a great experience... and I love my hair now. I feel really rejuvenated.

Lesson learned: screw fear, take a risk now & then :)

the bitch is back

2008-08-11T21:42:00.004-06:00

Welcome home, Wicca, you baaad dog, you!

Here is the little runaway shortly after she got back home from her grand adventure. She looks pretty happy to be home, no? Note the wagging tail :P

They told us that she was wandering the streets in northeast El Paso when she was picked up by Animal Control. That's reallllllly far from where we live- she never could have just walked there on her own- so now I know without a doubt that someone took her (and shame on them for not trying to find her owners, she is microchipped so it would have been really easy to find us... freakin' dog thieves!) I am betting that she escaped from wherever she was (she's a master escape artist, we had to Wicca-proof our yard long ago) and that's how she was found on the streets. So booya to the dog stealers. She was clean and well-fed, so I'm sure somebody had her for most of the time she was gone.

I am just happy to have the little scoundrel back home :)

hey there cupcake

2008-08-10T16:20:00.006-06:00

Behold, my latest portrait...

(click the pic to see the high res full-size version, trust me it looks much better)

This is a portrait of my super-stylish Australian friend Super Kawaii Mama (check out her seriously great blog if you haven't already) She always takes the most adorably glam pictures, she's got that pin-up vibe down pat, and this one was inspired by one of my favorite shots of her (see the inspiration here)

I loved drawing that tiara, the cupcake, and the hair... it totally fulfilled the line-lovin' art tweaker in me. I am digging the black-white-pink combo, too, since it complements the combo of playful, cupcaking innocence and edgy pin-up sexiness that I love so much about this photo. I really enjoyed drawing this.

It pains me to admit that I still have not added my artwork to HeatherShade.com, doh. As of right now, the only place I have my art up is in one of my Myspace albums. I am working on updating that though. I'll post links when it happens ;)

As always, I am available for custom portraits & artwork.
Get in touch if you want anything, yo.

hot diggity dawg!

2008-08-10T03:09:00.004-06:00

I don't know what happened to swing my luck around, but since the day we (oh-so-luckily) found my mobile home, things have been looking up, and my bad luck has seemed to be slowly turning to the good...

Case in point: WE FOUND OUR RUNAWAY DOG!!!
Yes, for those of you who have been following the saga- the missing Wicca has been found! I am so happy I could do back flips. Well, ok maybe not back flips. How about a Peanut Butter Jelly Time dance. I am so happy I could do a Peanut Butter Jelly Time dance. And Hell I just might!

To recap: this is Wicca. She was my sister's dog, and since my sister's murder, we have had her here at my Gramma's house (where I have been staying), and I've been taking care of her. It has meant a lot to me to have my sister's dog, because taking care of Wicca (and also Haley's cat Moofi) is pretty much the only thing I can still do for Haley.

Well, a little over a month ago, someone (no not me, heh) accidentally let Wicca out of the back yard one night, and she took off running like a big, spotted, 4-legged bat out of Hell... and had been missing ever since.

I have been heartsick over it.

I've spent almost every day since then putting up Lost Dog fliers, and calling the shelters, and checking the papers... all to no avail. No sign of Wicca was to be found.

I have been even more stressed over the fact that Wicca has seizures (apparently, it's pretty common with certain full-breds, like Dalmations) and, if you don't know how to care for a seizure-prone dog, they can die. For one thing, you can never leave them unattended on a leash (they can get strangled if they seize while leashed) Also, the seizures are pretty violent, and can go on for over an hour without proper medication being given, and the dog is totally helpless during the seizure... they can even break bones or choke on their tongues. So... the thought of Wicca being out there somewhere, and having the potential to seize and no one to help her, has been TORMENTING me. I haven't been able to get it out of my mind, even though, after a month+ I admit my hopes of ever seeing her again had faded to almost nothing.

And then, just an hour ago, I got a call from my Dad. He had just gotten home (yeah at 2 a.m., he's a musician what do you expect heh)... and he found a note from Animal Control taped to his front door, saying that they have found Wicca, and that they have her at the shelter! We dunno yet how she got to the shelter (did they pick her up on the streets? Did someone turn her in? We don't know), but she was identified at the shelter when they scanned her and found her microchip! And we can pick her up on Monday morning!!

Oh, happy day! Wicca! Yay!

So... whatever I owe my new found good luck to, thank you.... Fates... I will do my best to keep deserving it. Finding this dog again means the world to me. It means I can keep a promise that I made to my little sister, and yeah that means the world to me.

Now, if only dogs could talk. I mean, where the Hell has she been this last month, what adventures has she gotten herself into??! I guess we'll never know!

All I know is I am so happy to have her back... *grin*

hair today, gone tomorrow (well ok tuesday)

2008-08-07T18:14:00.010-06:00

So I have come to a momentous decision.
I am going to cut my hair.

(shhh... don't let it hear...)

See this unhappy face? That is me, thinking... 'lordy it's 150 degrees outside, and I feel like I am wearing a stifling, heavy cape... a cape made of HAIR'.

Are there alternatives? Ohhh yeah... I can always pin it up. Then it feels like I am walking around, balancing a heavy-ass ottoman atop my head... an ottoman made of HAIR.

Same with ponytails and braids... they do restrain the hairmonster a bit more, but they are so heavy they make my neck hurt after awhile.
That shit is heavy.

Sometimes I sit on my hair. It also gets caught in the seatbelt when I drive. It's been known to get shut inside the car door, too, on windy days... so that I am caught, shrieking inside the car, with a hank of my hair flapping outside the car door as I flop around trying to reach the door handle to free myself. Not cool.

It STRANGLES me when I sleep.
I swear sometimes I think it's... alive.
*gulp*

It's been a whopping 14 years (!!) since I last cut my hair. It's high time. I need a change.

I have an appointment at the salon on Tuesday. As for the details about my upcoming cut, you'll just have to wait and see. That is, if the... you know what... doesn't find a way to stop me... *pictures self wrapped cocoonlike in a gigantic web of angry hair* ... eep!

hallelujah!!!!

2008-08-04T19:57:00.006-06:00

Omigod you guys. I HAVE A MOBILE HOME!!!
Yes! Finally! It finally happened!

I am beyond excited. After all of our bad luck, we stumbled onto this incredible find- an MH that has been sitting there- VACANT- since 1998. We found the owners, who don't even live in El Paso, and they were sooooo happy to sell it (they've been paying rent on that space for 10 years!!), that they drove all the way down here over the weekend to finalize the deal. Woot.

Anyway, this is it:

Since it's been abandoned & vacant for 10 years (which is actually perfect for me if you think about it- it's a Lost Destinations trailer, ha), you can imagine there's A LOT of cleaning to be done. But it's 80 x 16, 3 bedrooms, 2 full baths... and it came with a washer & drier, a refrigerator, air conditioner, and 2 brand-new toilets still in the boxes.

It's gonna be fabulous to get in there and redo this place myself. I already have so many ideas for it- I am thinking of an eclectic mixture of mid-century kitsch and gypsy wagon glam, with lots of color and personality. I'll definitely be posting the progress of my first real (non-rental) home here. In fact, I may have to start a 'mobile home chic' blog, since I have yet to really find one anywhere... *wink*

Thanks to everyone who performed rituals to the Trailer Park Gods on my behalf.

Now I have to go collapse with excitement. 'Scuse me.
*shrieks*

to grandmother's house we go

2008-08-03T19:43:00.014-06:00

Lately I find myself compulsively picking up my camera and wandering around taking shots (pictures, not alcohol... I put my camera down for the other kind... *wink*)

This is a good thing. Photography= love.
Today I share with you a peek into my Gramma's domain. Even though she was looking at me weird while I was traipsing around her house taking these pictures. Sorry Gramma!

Gramma was a red-haired hottie back in tha day...

This little green shoe is one of my favorite decor items at Gramma's house, total cobbler chic...

I don't recall the last time anyone used it (or ever used it??) but yes, it does get polished regularly...

My Gramma is a badass on the piano, she can wail like Little Richard on the keys...

Gramma has amazing taste in lighting fixtures...

These 2 plaques have been hanging in my Gramma's kitchen as long as I can remember...

Silver teapots and sheer and lacy curtain-age, that's how my Gramma rolls...

and the winners are...

2008-08-03T17:52:00.003-06:00

*drumroll, please*

As promised, here I am drawing winners for the Wheel Of Darkness book giveaway out of my magic lucky box:

Anita Y, Tim P, Grace W, Amanda W, and Chick A.- you guys will be getting a free copy of Preston-Child's The Wheel Of Darkness! Congrats!!

Your books will be in the mail shortly :D
Thanks for playing!

book it

2008-08-02T03:17:00.003-06:00

Just a quick post to let you all know you that if you haven't entered already, you have one more day to get your chance at a free copy of the horror novel, The Wheel Of Darkness by Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child.

I will be choosing 5 lucky book winners and posting a vid of me drawing the winner's names here on Sunday (don't worry, if you win, you'll also be notified by email as well) If you need more info click the link above.

Now, carry on...

Haley

2008-07-31T22:27:00.013-06:00

One year ago today, a human monster beat the life out of my beautiful little sister Haley for no reason at all. Ever since, all I can think about is to wonder....... why.

Why would anyone hurt her.

She'd regularly pull over on the way home from drive-thru restaurants to give her own dinner to homeless people she saw along the way. She worked for a while as a social worker because she wanted a job where she could help people less fortunate. And often she used her own money to help them out when no other options were available. She worked in elderly & child daycare centers for the same reason. Ditto for her substitute teaching.

Haley was probably one of the most generous humans I have ever known. She was always a give-the-shirt-off-her-back kinda girl. Material stuff meant nothing to her. What she really loved was to make friends and collect smiles from the people she helped out. If you think that sounds corny well, it does. But that doesn't mean it wasn't true. You could ask anyone who knew Haley and they would tell you the same. Haley was a goodhearted person who just liked to please other people, and to help them out.

She even helped her murderer out. He was a stranger to her and he told her he was hungry. So she helped him get food. For that kindness, she paid with her life. Had he asked for more help, I have no doubt Haley would have done what she could to help him. Instead he laid in wait for her at her place, in the dead of night, waited with gloves and duct tape and an evil heart, attacked her, bound her, terrorized her, killed her, robbed her. All for a car which he just abandoned and a computer that wasn't even worth a hundred bucks.

Why. WHY.

Now I don't have a sister anymore. After our Mom's untimely death we were the only two females left in the immediate family, and that was always a source of strength in our relationship. Now there's only me. I don't have a sister anymore.

I still don't understand. I guess I never will.

Haley- I miss you. I think about you every single day. I see shit on tv that I know that only you would appreciate, and I know we'd laugh our asses off. I miss laughing with you. You & I combined used to bring roomfuls of people down in laughter, remember? We were good together, wicked good. I'll never forget our crazy shenanigans when we lived at Gramma's. Damn we had such adventures, damn we were so bad! Remember the snake in the cemetery?? We laughed so hard. I miss those days. I want you to do my hair again. I want to reminisce. I want to hang out and smoke and eat pizza together. I want to go to the movies with you. I want to sing that silly-silly 'Sisters' song with you like we used to. I want to sit up all night on the bed, talking. I want you back. I need you. I don't know how to live without you.

I love you, Little Sis. And I MISS YOU. Always...

i spy with my little eye...

2008-07-30T17:39:00.009-06:00

So there is this alley that runs between our house and the restaurant next door. Now, it's not uncommon to have problems with rowdy people over there at night, it IS a Chico's Tacos after all (for the non-El Pasoans, Chico's is local legend known for it's infamous rolled tacos, and people especially love to go there after a night of drinking) And unfortunately for my poor eyes, drunks pissin' in the alley on weekends is not uncommon. At least it's dark usually.

But today I caught some guy shaking the lizard in the alley in broad daylight! Geeez.

I was returning from picking up a prescription, driving through the alley on the way to the front of the house. As I turned down the alley I see this young guy in baggy shorts, cockatoo in hand, boldly going where many men have gone before. GROSS.

For a second I didn't know what to to.

And then my evil side kicked in. I started hitting the horn repeatedly, pointing at him, and shrieking, "I see it! I see it!!! OMG I seeee it!!!" hysterically. The dood staggered back, and ran off around the corner... struggling to pull up his shorts along the way.

I haven't laughed so hard in ages.

style that screams

2008-07-29T18:24:00.003-06:00

It's been awhile since I've posted a style-related thingy. So today I give you... outfits inspired by one of my favorite things: horror movies and scream queens! Enjoy.

They're coming to get you, Barbra...

Inspired by Night Of The Living Dead

The Bride...

Inspired by The Bride Of Frankenstein

Frida Krueger...

Inspired by A Nightmare On Elm Street

The Birds...

Inspired by The Birds

May...

Inspired by May

(click the pics for details & ordering info on each item)

I went over the top with some of these just for fun.
The idea is to pull inspiration from anywhere and everywhere and work it into your daily look. Express your personality, the real you is so much more interesting than a pile of meaningless trends.

angsty mcangsterson

2008-07-26T23:41:00.016-06:00

These are my darkest days.

I can't remember ever having a lower point. Which sounds crazy, given the great tragedy & drama that has been Life Thus Far. I'm no longer on rough waters, I'm no longer even floundering... I'm just dead weight... still, and limp, and bruised from the inside out, and slowly sinking. I am just in a holding pattern, numb and waiting, and waiting, and waiting...... I can't even summon up a healthy fear of sharks.

A little over 2 years ago, the simple decision of one person whom I had loved and trusted for many years sent my existence into a crash-and-burn. I faced the awful experience of losing everything I had in life in one quick split second. The D-word is never pleasant, but in my case it was beyond painful- it has reshaped my life like a tornado dropping from the sky without warning and brutally rearranging the face of the earth, touching down and transforming it forever into a different thing in a matter of moments.

The heartbreak of losing someone I loved was only the beginning of it- I came home from a work trip (photography assignment in Arizona) to discover- shockingly- that my husband had left without a word while I was away, yes left with someone else, someone secret from the secret hidden life I was unaware of, and had left me alone, with nothing much at all besides what I had with me on that trip. I no longer had a place to live, I didn't have a dime to my name. I had no warning and no time for plans. One second I was tiredly turning my truck- sheathed in Arizona road dust- into our driveway, thinking about a nice hot bath and my old familiar bed... the next second, I was standing on the porch in utter shock, after discovering that my husband had packed up and moved out with no explanation.

Even though it's been years, the shock of that moment and the pain of it's appalling cruelty have yet to wear off. I can still feel it just as vividly as I did that day.

When I came to where I am living now, it was out of desperation. I had no other choice- it was here or the streets. And I came into this place knowing that it wouldn't be a good atmosphere for me. But I was assuming I'd get my shit together and be out of here in a month or two. That was over two years ago now. Doh.

I don't really want to get into detail about why being here is bad for me, because I live with an older relative who really didn't have to help me at all if they didn't want to, and I don't want to openly call them out. I do have a roof over my head. And I appreciate it, I know that I could have it a lot worse. But living here is just kind of killing off my spirit one excruciating day at a time. The way I have to live here is in complete opposition to the way I live my own life. There are conflicting views on life and how it should be lived between me and my benefactor, there are religious/spiritual differences as well. And in order to stay here, I am in a position now where I bow my head in pure subservience to someone else's ideals (though it's given the name 'respect', after 2 years it feels like subservience) It makes me sick inside to live this way. But, it's this, or the streets outside. I have nowhere else to go.

The one room I live in here has spartan bare gray walls. Nothing can be hung on them. No art, no colors or reminders of loved ones and loved things. It's about as cozy as a death row prison cell. Ghosts haunt this room too, though not the literal kind... I can still envision the relative who died in this room, and the sight of his body, lifeless, pale and still in the bed, while I stood there silently looking through tears, waiting for the coroner to get here for what seemed like forever... I can see my murdered little sister in this room too. I can picture how it looked when she lived here during her own hard times... I can still see her vividly, sitting at the end of her bed in this room, alive and telling me her latest stories and poetry and plans. And it makes me remember how happy I was for her when she got out out here and was so happy being on her own, and it hurts to think about what happened to her after, when she should have had her whole life ahead of her.

This room tortures me in it's own special way, both with it's hard memories and with it's lack of comfort. When I wake up, and open my eyes to see the grayness all around, I am filled with heavy depression. It does not get the day off to a good start, that's for sure.

I would have been out of here a long time ago if Fate didn't have another trick up his sleeve *shakes fist* Shortly after I got here my health did a nosedive, and long story short I ended up on Social Security on disability status for a chronic health issue. While I get a (super minuscule) bit of money every month from SS, it's nothing that anyone could ever live on (it's a 3 digit sum just BARELY, and that's all I get per month!)... I'd never be able to afford my medications, doctors visits, lab work, prescriptions, etc without the Medicaid coverage I get through SS. So, I can't work, at least not beyond freelancing type stuff from home, and even then, they have a limit on how much I can earn per month before they take away my benefits. And that limit is pretty low (again, it's a 3-digit number, and that's per month. Sigh) So, like many countless Americans, I have to choose between having health care, or having money to live on. Without health care I'd have no health, so, moot point.

And so I'm stuck living here, on the generosity (and therefore on the whims and under the rules of) my fundamentally-opposed-to-my-beliefs relative. Sure I could have found a very cheap, tiny apartment I suppose- but that would have required me to get rid of my beloved pets. And no matter how bad things have gotten, those are my babies and I'm just not willing to abandon them- I'd literally have to abandon them at a shelter, where they'd have about a 90% chance of being put to death because they are not puppies/kittens, they are older, and some of them have medical problems- blind dog, dog with thyroid problems that require daily medication, etc- and I know there's not much chance of adoption for animals in their situation. Especially when right now our city's animal shelters are facing massive overcrowding and decreased adoptions, due to the recession and the money problems it's causing for everyone. I love them too much to abandon them, ever. No way, no how.

And that's my sucky situation.

This is why I am so anxious about finding a mobile home. The rent on the lot is so, so low (only about 200 bucks with some utilities included!) that I finally have a chance, and a way to move out of here. It is a ray of hope. But it's hard to see sometimes. I'm just in a funk right now, because we have been searching for a place for months now and keep finding great deals that raise my hopes and then just fall apart at the end. So my nerves are beyond frayed at this point. I just keep waking up each day and waiting hour by hour for the Yes Call, the one where the answer is finally, finally, "YES we have a mobile home!"

And that will be the counterpoint, the turning point, because that will surely be one of the brightest days of my life. It will be a whole new beginning for me... independence, and freedom, and privacy ohhhhh glorious PRIVACY!!!

So I am at the end of my rope right now, but... I have tied a knot and am hanging on. If you know of any rituals or sacrifices to the Mobile Home Gods (should I offer up some plastic pink flamingos?) to move this along please let me know. Thanks.