Jackson West’s Obsessive Compulsion

Since taking pictures of me seems to be all the rage these days — what with recents snaps by Derek Powazek and David Byrne, of all people — I’d like to shout out a man who has been taking pictures of me for over ten years now, Hank Thomas. I was lucky enough to get a chance to work for peanuts assisting Hank on a recent photoshoot at Cheri Lovedog’s tattoo parlor in Santa Cruz. The nice thing about assisting is that you can score yourself some sweet glamour shots while standing in for the real subjects. These are scanned polaroids from a 220 camera. I like how he played off the black and white check patterns, using a pink gel on the backlight to achieve a real Betsy Johnson asthetic that really fit Cheri’s personality.

“Hmmm…what kind of tattoo should I get?”

“How about a giant kanji for ‘otaku’ on my chest?”

“Nah. We’ll just go with a standard upper-arm of Betty Page.”

And to prove that I will post pictures of things and people beside myself, here’s a classic of Hank himself and my roommate Bayete from way back in the day — 1985:

As Hank himself pointed out, “And still cooler than a polar bear’s toenails.” Word.

Photo by David Byrne.^*

*Yes, the David Byrne.

So I recently discovered that the scanner in our flat has a transparency adapter. My mom had taken me on a trip to Israel where she had business during spring break of my senior year in college. At the time, I was like, “I’ll just shoot film and scan the negs.” Seven years later…

The Jerusalem skyline from the Episcopalian mission. King Hussein of Jordan gilded the Mosque Al Aqsa.

In the souk. So many colors and smells, and a welcome claustrophobia.

The wailing wall. Orthodox men and women do not pray together, but two little boys are still curious.

The Via Dolorosa, circa 1984. I’d love it if this were a real model for the juxtaposition.

Pilgrims on the Via Dolorosa. My mom and I actually ran into a group of Texas Christians from our flight at the Mosque Al Aqsa. Our guide appreciated that we weren’t happy with their pastor’s blatant lies about Muslim history.

My mom resting at the rectory of the African church.

Shabbas market on Friday in Tel Aviv. Splendid.

A kosher butcher, or shohet, with some handsome, fresh chickens.

This cobbler had laces in every color of the rainbow. Too bad I was shooting Tri-X.

My mom and I managed this trip between the intifada. But I was deeply troubled by the treatment of Palestinians, the treatment of sephardim and recent immigrants from Russia, and by the neglect of archaeological treasures from the Roman era. Still, I found Israel a warm, welcoming and absolutely beautiful place that I will never forget.

Monica’s birthday party lives somewhere between performance art and social engineering. It was a beautiful thing that I was so happy to be a part of. When I’m laying on my deathbed, pumped with morphine to the gills, I will remember showing up at sixteenth and Mission wearing as much yellow as my skimpy wardrobe could afford. Little did I realize that I’d make friends for life, get incredibly drunk by five in the afternoon, and when attractive women asked, “Why are you guys all wearing yellow?” I answered either “It’s kind of like being a plushie,” or “Because it’s a sexual fetish.”

How San Francisco was it that we weren’t the only scavenger hunt roaming the Mission that day?

Who was the hottest team in terms of sheer rock-star-dom? Yellow!

Is any more evidence necessary?

A lucky bullseye earns Jackson a free rum and coke!

The team’s energy starts to flag. Tequila shots and a beer back gets us back on track!

Why do I love Monica? Let me count the ways…bullhorn…yellow bowtie…custom tee…

Luis Peña of Glug Baby and his glugabble baby. Awwwwwwww.

One of the most sincere Happy Birthday’s I’ve heard sung. Thanks, Mon.

It ain’t a b-day without the fam, and Monica’s was double-extra cool.

My old neighbor mackin’ on some cutie. Ladies love the ladies.

Let’s just say I made it home safe. Man, did we ever consume too much alcohol.

Kisses to all, and to all an awesome birthday party.

Derek Powazek is now my official photographer. Styling by the Employment Developement Department of California. Wardrobe courtesy of Ross and Thriftown.

I’m watching Jeopardy, and this month they’re doing the teen tournament. For the little teen hipsters, one of the categories tonight is “Lincoln Blogs.” Har har. The ‘answers’ are sort of like short blog entries. Let me tell you right now, Lincoln is a blog c-lister compared to Martin Van Buren.

Of course, I’m on the west coast, so The Law Dork has already gotten the first post up. Damnit. On the other hand, we bet this dude will get a few hits tonight.