Everybody I Shot Is Dead

Christmas In July Is Ending...

2009-07-15T20:49:00.000-07:00

...in 5 days. July 20 is the last day then it's back to the exorbitant (but well worth it) prices you may prefer to pay. Which would be better for me than the ridiculously low prices I'm giving my stuff away for during this sale...

15 bucks 'til the 20th.

10 bucks 'til the 20th.

...and the Limited and Open Edition prints are half off 'til the 20th.

Shop at www.cheshercat.com

That is all. Good night.

Bastille Day

2009-07-14T21:47:00.001-07:00

Okay...this story is unbelievable and crazy...but true. It was my best Bastille Day ever. Maybe one of my best times all around that just happened to fall on the day before, the day of and into the day after Bastille Day.

It was July 1977. I was in London wrapping up the final bits on Cat Stevens' section of my book, Starart.

I also needed to get final approval from Ron Wood on his section, but he was in Paris. So, I went out to Heathrow to catch a flight to Paris where I would hopefully pin Ronnie down for 5 minutes. It was always difficult to meet up with him. Times and days of meet-ups consistently changed. When I was initially working with him, I'd call his house at the allotted time and invariably the housekeeper/gatekeeper would say he was out or sleeping. Then a day or two later, after several more phone, he would call me at 2am and ask if I could come over. It was frustrating at times but an amazing experience overall. And, oh, the stories I could tell.

Anyway, I arrive at Heathrow and run into Tom Waits. Completely random. I knew him from our mutual hangout...The Troubadour. We had a nice visit in the waiting-for-planes area then I was off to Paris. As expected, the first night was a bust. The second day Ronnie summoned me (okay...he asked me nicely) to come to the recording studio. That's right, Pathé Marconi Studios just outside of Paris. That's where they were recording...yes, people...THEY...The Rolling Stones.

I caught a taxi and arrived on time. I thought maybe Ronnie would come out to meet me and look over his section of the book in the lobby and send me on my way. I was wrong. Instead, I was ushered into the inner sanctum. The recording studio. Inside where the guys were jamming.

The studio where Ronnie introduced me to everyone. "This is Bill." "Hi Bill." "This is Charlie." "Nice to meet you Charlie." "This is Keef." "Hey, Keith." And somewhere in there was a "She's the one that's putting my art into this book. She's come to show me." I think it was Keith that said, "Let's have a look." At some point I was presented to the other Stone. ery formally. "I'd like you to meet Michael" was how the introduction went. Yup, the man otherwise known as Mr. Jagger. I stayed perfectly cool. "Hello."

Everybody looked at the layout I had created for Ronnie's section. And they were all happy to be represented in a few of Ronnie's drawings. I guess I passed the test because I was then invited to hang out for the session. I happily parked my ass on an large anvil case - not in the booth, not in the waiting area, not in the parking lot - right there inside the studio, just feet away from The Rolling Stones. I soaked up every second of every minute of every hour that I was there. As it turned out, they didn't actually record any tracks for their upcoming album (Some Girls and Emotional Rescue...two of my favorite Stones albums). They spent the whole night jamming the blues. I can tell you right here, right now, it doesn't get any better than that.

Except when you're called upon to help in the decoy mission to get Mick Jagger out of the studio. The paparazzi were out in force because of his impending break-up/divorce from Bianca. When we exited the darkness of the studio, we were bathed in the full daylight of Bastille Day. Ronnie invited me back to his flat, so I hopped in the car with him and Keith Richards and Ronnie's wife and whoever was driving and thought to myself 'if I'm going to die in a car crash it might as well be now.' Upon arriving at Ronnie's flat, I made a joke at Mr. Richard's expense, which could have backfired and been the end of me, but thankfully Keith had a great sense of humor.

I believe we had some food or other nourishment and then I took some photos of Ronnie sketching. This is the first time one of these photos has been seen or even printed. I didn't use them in Starart and I'm not so sure I even showed them to Ronnie.

Ronnie Wood sketching from the window sill overlooking Avenue Victor Hugo.

Later that day I went back to my hotel to change and then it was off to a Bastille Day party at some place on the Champs E'lyse. Yes, with "them." I remember we were walking down the Champs E'lyse to get to the place but it was at the part of the celebration where every person in France (or so it seemed) was walking up the the Champs E'lyse. It was a wall of people. Partying and celebrating as if they were storming the Bastille.

By the time I had to head back to London, I had been up for a magnificent three days and two nights. Now, that's how it was done in '77.

Fête Nationale!!

Death

2009-07-13T22:11:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it a good thing when somebody dies. Really. I mean it. Even if they haven't hit old age, which I guess these days would be considered 75 or 80+.

There's a death list that I check almost every day so that I don't miss anyone that I should be honoring. The musicians that I've shot that wouldn't necessarily make the six o'clock news. This particular list covers all kinds of people that are notable for one thing or another, such as music, athletics, politics, etc. They just give the scant basics - the date, their name, age, a brief mention of what they're known for and the cause of death.

Most of the time I am saddened, especially when it's someone young. For example, on July 6th there was Mathieu Montcourt, 24, French tennis player, cardiac arrest, then on the on the 8th Judi Ann Mason, 55, American screenwriter, television producer and playwright, aortic dissection, and on the 9th, Jessie Hollins, 39, American baseball player, drowned.

But on July 11th I had the opportunity to rejoice over the death of a 68 year old man I did not know. The only thing that would have made me happier was if he had never been born. This was the single line that had me doing a happy dance:

Robert 'Dolly' Dunn, 68, Australian child molester, multiple organ failure.

This asshole had a job as a school teacher with a Catholic religious order known as the Marist Brothers. His wikipedia page says...

He began a 20-year jail sentence in 2001 for 24 sexual offences occurring between 1985 and 1995. In 1996, a Royal Commission chaired by Justice James Woods was shown home videos and photographs from Dunn's collection, which included many images of child sex abuse, usually featuring Dunn himself as the perpetrator. Dunn fled the country, but was later found in Honduras after being tracked down by Australia's 60 Minutes program. Then-US Secretary of State Madeleine Albright authorized his extradition back to Australia.

Dunn had a long history of abusing boys between the ages of seven and 15, often videotaping them. Usually, he would offer them money and marijuana in exchange for anal sex. From jail, he repeatedly made written and verbal statements to the effect that he saw nothing wrong with sex between a man and a boy. He previously spent time in Indonesia and the Netherlands. He was a friend and accomplice of Australian diplomat William Stuart Brown, another notorious paedophile [sic].

In 2004, Dunn underwent coronary bypass surgery after suffering from angina. Believed to be at high risk of retaliation from other prisoners, he was isolated from the main prison population.

Here are a couple of photos of this creep so you can see what scum looks like...

In case you think I'm being too hard on this piece of shit, in January of 2005 he became and and was hospitalized when prison officers discovered pornographic drawings in his cell. If there is a Hell, it was created for this evil incarnate.

I am most thankful that he died before November 9, 2015 when he would have been eligible for parole. I also like the fact that he died of multiple organ failure...it somehow seems fitting. I can only hope that it was a slow and painful death.

The Streak

2009-07-12T22:18:00.000-07:00

I've just reached my hand in the negative box and out popped Ray Stevens. Anybody remember Ray? He is a multi-talented songwriter, singer, producer, performer, comedian and I'm sure the list goes on.

I shot him in Vancouver and by the looks of the backstage area, it could have been at the Coliseum.

That would be record rep, Monica Netupsky proposing after the show.

Gotta love the Santa suits Ray dressed his reindeer in.

The reason he would have played the 17,500 seat Coliseum was because of his enormous hit The Streak...

How awesome is that video?

It took him almost 30 years to put another song on the charts with a little thing called Osama Yo Mama in 2002. This video has created some heated comments on youtube...

On a more serious side, Ray Stevens is also responsible for the song Everything Is Beautiful which sold 3,000,000 records. I bet even if you were born after the 70s and don't have a clue who Ray Stevens is, you could probably sing the first line of that song with the right melody.

Go ahead, sing it...

Everything is beautiful
In its own way...

Poker

2009-07-11T23:59:00.000-07:00

In the interest of full disclosure, it is currently 2:54am on July 12th. But since I have not been to sleep yet it is still Saturday night as far as I'm concerned. So, this posted is marked as if I posted it at 11:59pm on July 11th. Sue me.

It's another one of those rare situations where I - the person who never goes out - went out. I knew I'd be back late but figured a post after getting home near 3am might be more interesting than one from the middle of the day when I had nothing of interest to say. Not that the 3am post will be of interest either. This blog is free so I am not obligated to be interesting. Feel free to switch to a blog dedicated to growing prune trees. (God, I hope prunes are grown on trees...no, wait, they're dried up plums or something...I'm much smarter before midnight.

Alright, on to the post. Where was I tonight? Thanks for asking. I went to a Casino Nite fundraiser aimed at raising $$ for a play that a bunch of artist types are putting on sometime in August, somewhere in L.A. I didn't know any of the people but thought it might be a good time and I could have some fun gambling without losing the farm. I donated a book and a couple of lithographs as my could deed for the day and did a $20 buy-in to play Texas Hold'em...after an hour or so of instructional warm-up games where I pretended I never played before. Which I really hadn't, other than some of the free online games a couple of years back.

The house where the party was held looked to be in a state of constant remodelling, but in a very cool way. Lots of spackle on the walls and unfinished window fitting and such. Great place to shoot pictures. I took this one shortly after arriving. The home owner's dog was really into humping and she was all over Tyler's arm. I was completely unprepared to take a picture, had no idea what the settings were on the camera and right when I wanted to shoot the darned dog stopped. So, this is what I got...

I love the natural light coming in from the left...definitely a great place to shoot.

Then the poker ensued and that was it for the photos. After the warm-ups I took a short break and then bought in at one of the tables. My first hand was a dud but then I won a few and amassed a pile of chips that kept me going for the rest of the night even though I didn't win another hand. I think my winning hands were a full house, a straight and a flush. I was so competitive I completely forgot about taking pictures until the remaining 9 players were at one table. I was won of the 9, thank you very much.

I took this right before we started the final table play...

Kinda reminds me of Rounders. I believe when all was said and done, I came in 6th overall. Not bad since I was one of a few that only did one buy-in.

So the night was a good time...fun was had and friends were made. And that's all I have to say about it.

Associate

2009-07-10T23:25:00.000-07:00

Yes, that's what I am. An associate. Not at a company like Rich Guy & Associates. Nope. I just got approved to be an Amazon associate. The idea came to me yesterday morning when I was watching a particular music film that has a particular artist in it (well, actually more than one) from my book and I was going to find a youtube version of this particular clip and post it to share with all of you.

Then it dawned on me. How great would it be if I could have a one-click system where anyone interested in picking up this particular music film could easily purchase it straight through my blog? Or the albums or mp3s from the music vids I post? Or cool movies and books I like? Or the lingerie I wear? (yeah, that last one was a complete joke since what I wear doesn't even qualify as underwear, much less lingerie). I'd seen the little Amazon logo on other people's blogs and websites before. I especially like the one that John August has on his blog where he's turned into a very simple and clean store. I think that's what I want.

I went over to Amazon yesterday and filled out the paperwork that involved absolutely no paper...just a lot of work. And today, or maybe last night, I got an email from them saying I was approved. "Why isn't my little store of things I want to share here?" you ask. Well, unlike the brilliant John August, I am completely technically challenged. Which is why my blog is the sad boring cookie-cutter looking thing that it is. I'm figuring I could get by on the idea that content trumps beauty. But then again, John August has content that is over the moon if you are a screenwriter so that excuse is not gonna fly.

I think I have the information I need to set it up, although I'm not even sure it will work on a Blogger blog. But I am going to give it a shot as soon as I have some time to focus on it. Technology requires clear focus on my part. And two bottles of ginko whatever-it's-called. I would have gotten on it this morning but today was a crazy busy day in all the ways that are good and great so I just didn't have a minute to put toward my impending career as an associate.

If any of you awesome geek brains out there know anything about setting this thing up on Blogger, let me know in the comments or drop me a line. Because I really really have no idea.

Oops, now I need a photo of the day...actually, I'm way burned out and too lazy to hunt for an exciting photo so how about a drawing? This is something I posted on June 16, 2006 on a fun post called "What's In The Box?"

I picked this one because a) it popped into my head as soon as I wrote "I need a photo" maybe because I posted something on them a couple of days ago, b) I'm guessing nobody who shows up here goes that far back into the archives (although you should because I think there's some good stuff back there) and c) because Steve B. mentioned them in the comments section of yesterday's post. I used to draw all the time. I really need to get back into drawing and painting. I'm going to put that on my list of to dos now that I'm simplifying my life so I'll have time to do things for me.

Rock and Roll Doctor...

2009-07-09T22:45:00.000-07:00

...each and every one of us needs one on call.

First, here's my picture of the day...

...for no other reason than I took it today and I like it.

Right now I'm listening to the Deluxe Edition double CD of Waiting For Columbus by Little Feat. I got a text an hour ago asking me what song I thought this certain current young band should cover. Something with lots of vocal parts. The band also does original stuff but they sometimes like to cover old school stuff (God bless 'em), and I can tell you they do a kick ass version of The Weight.

This is an old performance from the The Band, worth checking out...

I went through my usual suspects and off the top of my head came up with CSNY, earlier Chicago, the Beach Boys, pre-disco Bee Gees and the Byrds. Then I went to my iTunes and suggested some individual songs. First one was Mr. Manager by Badfinger when they were The Iveys which I think is pretty obscure...and I happen to know that this band loves Badfinger.

But then I thought of Little Feat. What a freakin' great live band and they have lots of songs to mine from off Waiting for Columbus (there's 27 tracks) with great vocal parts. I suggested this one (the best version on youtube won't let me embed...but you can check it out here)....

And, of course, Willin' is always a good choice.

Agree? Disagree? Any other suggestions I can pass along?

Tom Waits

2009-07-08T23:25:00.000-07:00

Saw this for the first time today and had to share...Tom Waits goes to Fernwood...

Hilarious! I Love Tom Waits!!

I only shot Tom a couple of times...first when he opened for Frank Zappa at the Agridome in Vancouver. I posted those really bad pictures back on May 17, 2006in a post aptly called Self Deprecation.

My redemption came a year and a half later when I shot Tom again at the Troubadour.
I really miss those days when I got to hang out with him at the Troubadour bar. But at least I have some cool pictures of him from there. And, in case you missed it, I currently have my iconic (so I've been told) Waits photograph available in my Christmas in July sale (which will be ending shortly). This is the first and probably last time I will offer these prices on this photograph.

This is the 11x17 lithograph, showing how it looks framed:

Regular price is $30
Christmas in July price $10
(frame is additional)

This is the 11x14 Open Edition which I sign and is
a silver gelatin print from the original negative,
printed on a heavy weight archival photographic paper:

Regular price is $200

Christmas in July price $80

This is the 16x20 Limited Edition of 75 numbered and signed,
silver gelatin print from the original negative,
printed on a heavy weight archival photographic paper:

Regular price is $400

Christmas in July price $200
(I only hve a couple left at this price)

If you want to grab one of these puppies, they are only available here. I don't usually hardcore pimp my stuff on the blog, but I don't want any of the hardcore TW fans miss out on this one-time deal.

And besides, I don't have enough original ideas to fill the next 10 days that are staring me down without one birthday to celebrate or deathday to honor. So you get what you get. Ten days of nothing. Damn. Okay, I'm taking all idea submissions to fill the next ten days. I will even consider guest posts...write something and include a photo and or video link and I may just post it. Send whatever - ideas, guest posts, fan mail, hate mail - to info@cheshercat.com.

Ringo Starr

2009-07-07T11:34:00.000-07:00

Today is his birthday. He is --- wow --- Ringo is 69 today. I was thinking 65, maybe 66. Good on him for hittin' the number 69.

I actually have had lots of encounters with Mr. Starkey. Mostly all good.

The first was when I made a scouting trip to L.A. to see if this little Canadian girl had any chance of hell making it in the big city (I'm still trying to determine that, btw). And lo and behold, my first day in town, somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody else got me an invite to an album release press conference at Capitol Records. Now, ain't that the way to roll into to Hollywood. Especially since it was for a Beatle. Ringo. And just days after I had shot another Beatle in concert in Vancouver. George.

There were tons of photographers at the press conference. I'd never been to one of these and didn't have a clue what I was doing. I'm not a pushy paparazzi type of shooter. But I guess my concert experience - where you really have to anticipate your subject's next move or you miss the shot - paid off. I managed to get at least one shot I love.

Ringo Starr

7/7/40 - Still Rockin'

If you'd like to own this photograph, click on Ringo Starr or click here.

After the press conference I shot the filming of the promotional video on Vine Street. This is one of my photos...

And here is a little piece of the video...

I did not meet Ringo on this occasion. That would come a couple of years later. When I was putting together my first book, Starart. Klaus Voormann is in the book and he sent me up to Ringo's house to discuss getting some of the KV art he owned to shoot for the book. I had a lovely visit with him and he was extremely supportive of the project. As a matter of fact, it was Ringo who suggested I get Ron Wood in the book.

My next Ringo encounter was in England, where I was working with Cat Stevens on his section of Starart. I had the good fortune to be introduced to Maureen Starkey - not through Ringo - and she more or less took me in (I can't even begin to tell you what an amazing person she was and what she did for me). During a stay at her country home, Ringo turned up to recuperate from an intestinal surgery before returning to the states. It was Easter and family time. And I was homored to be included.

Once the book was done, I threw an opening bash at a gallery in Los Angeles...on my birthday...and look who showed up...

Me (with my Lucy's margarita) and Him

That was a mighty cool night. Best birthday ever.

So, Ringo, since I can't be at, or should I say wasn't invited to your 69th, the best I can do for your birthday is bring this guy in to sing to you...

Or how about you sing it to yourself...

And last but not least...I'll have a margarita for you at Lucy's tonight...since you can't.

Happy Birthday, Richie!

Oh, F*ck

2009-07-06T23:57:00.000-07:00

I have to post something...quick.

I completely lost track of time. Woke up late today - 10:42am to be exact - and never got a handle on the day. Totally forgot everything I had on the agenda. Maybe it's time I wrote everything down. In triplicate. Taped to every wall. So I don't forget.

Okay, anybody got a good idea on what I can throw up here for my Monday/almost Tuesday post? Anyone going to the Michael Jackson memorial at the Staples Center tomorrow? You know, the one that I'm paying for? I heard John Mayer is going. To participate but not to perform. I haven't been watching TV in the past few weeks but I've been hearing that it's been wall-to-wall MJ with a lot of gushing and kind and loving praise from the media. What's up with that? Is this the same media that did everything they could to derail him in the past ten or twenty years and are quite possibly responsible for several of the nails in his coffin?

What else? Well, since I'm not watching TV I have no idea what's going on outside of my own realm. It's actually kind of nice. It's giving me a peaceful easy feeling. And with that, let me see if I have a decent Eagles photo handy.

Decent...not great. I think this was my first Eagles show. I screwed up the roll in the developing. It's very grainy. And some of the frames were somewhat solarized. But the grain looks pretty cool on some of it. I'm going to have to play around with them - maybe colorize them - and see if I can rock them out of the park. But at six minutes in front of my posting deadline, this is what you get.

And the song...live from '73...before I shot or met them...Frey looks pretty good here and it's nice to see Meisner and Leadon...

J.D. Souther

2009-07-05T23:54:00.000-07:00

Earlier today, one of my Facebook friends posted a youtube video of James Taylor and J.D. Souther singing Her Town Too.

It got me to thinking about J.D. and what an amazing singer/songwriter he is and that I should pass that on to all of you, just in case you've never heard of him. I first heard about him through listening to the Eagles and seeing his name in the writing credits of many of their songs, including Heartache Tonight, Best of My Love, Victim of Love and New Kid In Town.

Then I found out he had recorded a self-titled solo album John David Souther in 1972, which I bought and promptly wore out. If you have even one romantic cell in your whole body, I highly recommend you get this album...it is that good. The Fast One, Run Like A Thief, Kite Woman...okay, that's not going to work. I was going to name a few of my favorite songs off the album but I was going to end up listing pretty much all of them.

In 2007, when I heard the debut of the Eagles "brand new" single How Long off their Long Road Out of Eden album, I was totally taken aback. WTF...that's not a new song...I know that song. Sure enough it was How Long...the song I'd heard so many times...track 8 from J.D.'s debut album.

After I moved to L.A., I caught a show J.D. played at the small room in the back of McCabe's guitar store. Of course, my Pentax came with me...I was about to miss the opportunity to fire off a role of John David Souther. Here's one from the the roll...

After a two album stint with his supergroup Souther Hillman Furay Band, two more solo albums, the duet with James Taylor and a final solo album released in 1984, J.D. pretty much disappeared from the recording scene...at least recording himself.

So, after watching the video today I began to wonder whatever became of J.D. Souther. I was surprised to see he released a new album last October and has been playing live shows. And the once shy behind-the-spotlight singer/songwriter also has a website, a MySpace and a Facebook page where he seems to post on a regular basis. Wow. Just wow. That was all completely unexpected. You can go here to listen to bits of the tracks off the new album. He sounds as good as ever.

This is a very cool performance by J.D. Souther of Doolin' Dalton, a song from the Eagles Desperado album co-written by J.D., Glenn Frey, Don Henley and Jackson Browne...

And the James Taylor/J.D. Souther duet of Her Town Too, co-written by Taylor, Souther and Waddy Wachtel...

Happy 4th U.S.A.

2009-07-04T10:20:00.000-07:00

Time Travel

2009-07-03T21:24:00.000-07:00

I'm still not feeling great...although, as far as I know, I survived the night. Or maybe not. Maybe this is a message from the other side.

With nothing exciting on my mind, or should I say barely a mind at all...I decided to time travel through my photos and see where I was last year at this time. Surprise, surprise....perfectly fitting for my blah mood today. Last year I was in Vegas at Beatlefest.

I thought the trip was a great idea at the time. I had done the Beatlefest in New York that Spring and it was great. I met lots of nice people and sold lots of stuff...at least enough to cover the expenses of the trip, shipping the stuff out there and a little extra along the way. I was also on my way to the UK which was an even better time, indeed.

Anyway, the reason I thought Vegas was a good idea was that I wouldn't have the shipping expenses. I could load what I needed in the Jeep and take the 5 hour drive. My only expense would be the table fee, the hotel and food. I figured making a profit was a no-brainer.

My Table

I figured wrong. See those people in the background? That's about how many attendees there were. Okay, I'm exaggerating. But that's what it felt like. It is the truth, however, that the people who were there were not buying. I sold almost nothing. I didn't even make enough to cover my gas, much less my hotel and food. It was a huge loss for me - and the other vendors I spoke to there as well - and felt like the beginning of the end. Seriously.

It seemed to be the exact turning point in 2008. I was having a really great time for the first six months of last year until the beginning of July. Until Beatlefest. Where everything seemed to turn on me. I stopped making money. I lost friends. My kid got sick and ended up having brain surgery the following month. Yup, everything pretty much went downhill from there and has continued on that spiral to this very day, one year later.

Can I blame it on all on Beatlefest? Why not?

Don't think I'm just having my own little pity party here. Beatlefest Vegas 2008 was such a cataclysmic event that they're not even having Beatlefest in Las Vegas this year. And it was so cataclysmic that it continues to reverberate to this very day. Wow. It's a good thing I wasn't feeling well today. It's a good thing I thought to look back to last year for a post today. It's a freaking epiphany of epic proportions. It's my opportunity to finally purge this black plague cloud that's been hanging over me for the past year.

It's gotta go. Now. I've had enough.

Yes, this is it. I know it's over. It will now pass. How do I know this? Because a week ago I got this fortune:

The coming month shall bring winds of change in your life.

Hah! What do winds do? They blow black plague clouds away. It doesn't get any more black and white than that. Goodbye you ill-willed evil piece of shit. And don't ever show your ugly face around here again.

And to the rest of you unevil readers...have a wonderful and safe Holiday weekend. I know I will.

Bonus picture:

My very bad paparazzi-esque photo of Spencer Davis.
He's the one in the middle.

It Is Christmas In July

2009-07-02T23:30:00.000-07:00

Be warned...I feel really crappy right now. As if my impending doom is imminent. I ordered a decaf iced mocha from Starbucks today and I think they gave me a caffeinated one. It has been wreaking havoc on my system since then. Don't think it helped that I had an intensive meeting with my movie director, during which I drank said venti drink. Then went out to see/hear a singer without time to eat any dinner.

But it is my duty to post before my demise.

If you are on my mailing list, you already received an unedited version of this announcement. If you aren't, I'm hoping this is a let down to what you were hoping it might be. So, here goes...

presents

CHRISTMAS IN JULY

And why not? When I was a kid it seemed like a million years between Christmases. I used to think we should have Christmas twice a year. Of course, it was all about the presents.

I’ve been a good girl all year. Well, at least the first half. So far, I have kept my New Year’s resolution to post on my blog every single day. It hasn’t been as hard as I thought it would be...well, there are some days when the post starts out with, “I got nothing” but those ones generally manage to turn into a Seinfeldesque something about nothing. I especially love the days when I celebrate the birthdays of the musicians in Everybody I Shot Is Dead, or honor the anniversary of their passing by posting pictures and cool videos.

I still can’t believe we’re already closing in on 2010. Now that I’m older, it sometimes feels like Christmas comes every few months...but without the presents. The kid in me wants to fix that part. Of course, I had to remind her about what I’ve learned through Christmases past...the getting isn’t nearly as good as the giving. After a couple of kicks in the butt, she acquiesced (I love that word) and we agreed to celebrate Christmas in July.

So, the kid (me) and I (also me) decided the best way to celebrate Christmas in July is to give the best deals we possibly can on our books and prints. Our Everybody I Shot Is Dead signed book that usually retails for $60 is only $15 during our Christmas in July celebration. The George Harrison and Tom Waits lithographs are more than 66% off. Limited Edition prints are 50% off (only 5 of each print available at this price) and Open Edition prints are 60% off.

If you’ve been a good kid this year stop by my website and pick up a little something for yourself. And don’t forget your friends and loved ones. You can keep the gifts under wraps until December or let ‘em rock ‘n’ roll and celebrate Christmas in July.

I wish all of you a Merry Christmas in July and a splendid second half of 2009!

XO from the Kid and Me.

Christmas In July

2009-07-01T23:59:00.000-07:00

It's almost here.

Now go to sleep, lest you see the Chesher Cat
sliding down your chimney.

Big Announcement

2009-06-30T20:59:00.000-07:00

Well, maybe it's not that big.

But maybe it is.

I was planning to announce it today.

But I can't.

Been night and day on this thing.

But HTML is not cooperating with me.

I'm too tired to wrestle with it anymore today.

But stay tuned.

It's coming.

But not today.

Hopefully tomorrow.

But in the meantime...

Please enjoy this photo I took late at night on my iPhone...

But....

Tim Buckley and Lowell George

2009-06-29T09:00:00.000-07:00

Tim and Lowell are forever linked by dying on the same date just four years apart.

I was really pissed off when I found out Tim Buckley passed away. I knew him pretty well after shooting him many times at various clubs and arenas in Vancouver. Even though I was only there for a year and a half, Tim seemed to come up to play almost every month. I had planned to make my move to LA in early July and Buckley was one of the musicians I was counting on to help me break in to the big pond with my photography. Not to mention, he was fun to shoot and I always loved it when he would give me a hard time...which was every time I saw him. Then he had to go and kick it just a few days before I was leaving for L.A. Oddly enough, I almost kicked it the following week, after coming down with a serious case of spinal meningitis the day I was literally getting into my packed car to leave.

So, hanging out with Tim and his band in L.A. was not to be. I'm thankful that I got to know him and photograph him when I did. This picture is one that I found in sheet of unmarked negs, so it's not in my book.

Tim Buckley

2/14/47-6/29/75

This is one of my favorites from Tim...the Fred Neill song Dolphins...

Ever wonder where Jeff Buckley got his looks and voice? Look no further...

And this is the date we also lost the amazing Lowell George. If you never got to experience Little Feat live with Lowell...well...I feel sorry for you. They were an amazing live band.

I remember the day Lowell died like it was yesterday...I was driving down Topanga Canyon, not far from where Lowell lived, when I heard the shocking news of his death on the radio. Just like that same sad feeling we all experienced a few days ago.

Lowell George

4/13/45-6/29/79

One of my Little Feat favorites...

And if you don't think this is brilliant...well, you just don't know...

I'm really, really missin' both these guys.

You can see lots more pictures and learn more about Tim Buckley, Lowell George and the 46 other musicians in my tribute book, Everybody I Shot Is Dead.

Writing...

2009-06-28T22:27:00.000-07:00

...is hard. At least good writing (or is it writing well) is hard. I've written two books of my own - Starart which is now a sought-after collector's item because of the musicians' artworks, not my writing; and Everybody I Shot Is Dead, which has actually garnered its fair share of praise for my writing.

Shortly after my first book, I ghost-wrote an erotic novel...bet ya' didn't know that! It was called Gabriel: The Magic Watch and was about a magical pocket watch that gave women orgasms. I am not shitting you. I think the guy I wrote it for (the concept was his, not mine) did a vanity publishing deal so I don't think you can find it anywhere (thank goodness for that). Anyway, he was a really cool old guy (I'm sure he's long dead now) who owned the block of Sunset Boulevard just East of The Roxy. Ah, memories. I think I have a copy of the book kicking around somewhere that I will uncover during my ongoing deconstruction. If I do I may just post a couple of pages for y'all to drool over.

As most of you know, I also write screenplays. I started that discipline several, many, nearing double-digit years ago. I had no idea when I started this trek how much of a learning curving was involved. But as time went on and I figured that out, it was too late to turn back. I couldn't possibly give up without success. Success for me meaning seeing something Ive written up on the silver screen. Will that ever happen? Who knows. It has a lot to do with a lot of things besides the ability to write a filmable script.

But I think I'm getting closer. With at least two of my scripts. One of them I am producing - which does not make my chances better by any stretch of the imagination because producing a movie is no easy task...but I do have an amazing director who wants to do it and an equally amazing casting director who believes she can attach what's known as A-list talent. We'll see. Hopefully sooner than later.

The other script happens to be the very first one I wrote. After placing in one of those hoity-doity contests and several rewrites later, it was optioned by a very legitimate producer once...and went through development with the producer and a director (one of the best learning experiences a writer can have) but did not get made. I got it back and did many more rewrites - read many several times - to bring it to the current draft. So many rewrites, as a matter of fact, that I'm past the point of knowing whether it's any good or just a load of bullshit. To the point that a couple of months ago I reread it before sending it out to a producer and I couldn't understand a few of the scenes in the first act...at least how they transitioned from one to the other.

So, I did another quick rewrite in hopes of creating a better story flow and took the first 17 pages into a monthly reading group I attend. The piece was read out loud by various actors and I listened...thinking it sounded very pedestrian. When it was done the comments were all positive. "Really?" I kept thinking to myself as the compliments ensued. I don't think there was a change suggested by anyone. And I didn't even know most of these people. I sent it off to said producer and several weeks later got an email back saying, "It's a GREAT read." Of course, he's a producer with no money to make the movie. I took the second 17 pages into the group today. There were several people who hadn't heard the first 17 and it had been a couple of months since the others had. Still, I got the same reaction. One girl even came up to me after the group and said something like, "I don't even like thrillers but I loved this."

I'm still on the fence. There was one section in today's read that actually moved me but overall I really have no idea. It could still be bullshit. At any rate, I'm guessing somebody should buy the damn thing already. I've had it for too long. It's really time for it to leave the nest. Somebody should make a movie out of it so I can see if it's any good...once and for all.

Sick Day

2009-06-27T21:24:00.000-07:00

I planned to sleep in. Seems like whenever I plan a sleep-in day...

7:30am - Pumpkin jumps off the bed. She's the best sleeper-inner I know. What is going on? (Wait! She's growling at me right now. Does she know I'm writing about her? Is she protesting?) Okay, back to the story. She jumps off the bed at the unGodly hour of 7:30am on my sleep-in Saturday and starts heaving. Fortunately, she never throws up without a bunch of warning heaves that give me enough time to grab a pile of paper towels or whisk her outside.

Except today. My scramble abilities were set on low. So the new carpet got christened. And I got to clean it up...post-haste...so there wouldn't be a stain. And at that point there was no going back to sleep. I had coffee. Did some work. Then toast. Did some more work. Then Pumpkin went another round. Then did some work.

Then IT crept in. The beginnings of a headache. It wasn't even noon. My turn to be sick? Took some Advil. Nothing. Went for a swim in the cool waters of the pool. Temporary relief. Made a kefir/acai fruit smoothie. Pushing on the real thing headache. Out of Advil. Took some sinus pill. No help. Did some more work. Watched my day slip away. Passed out around 4. Woke up at 5:30. Headache downgraded to linger mode. Eyes watering. Made some pasta. Felt a little better. Not perfect.

The heat was finally dissipating. Took Pumpkin for a long walk. Talked on the phone to a friend. Goodbye day. Hopefully, the real work will get done tomorrow.

Sorry I messed up your sleep-in day.

That's okay. I still love you.

You can sleep in tomorrow.

No I can't. I have to be somewhere at 10am.

Maybe Monday.

Yeah, maybe Monday...if I get enough done on Sunday.

I'm Going Crazy

2009-06-26T21:45:00.000-07:00

I'm in my basement - okay, I live in L.A. so I don't have a basement but I'd be in it if I had one - cooking up some craziness. If you're on my mailing list you'll hear about it first. If you're just a casual-stop-in-at-the-blog person you'll hear about it second and you might miss out on something you might be interested in 'cause I don't know how long it will last. So, if you want to hear about it first you better click on over to my website and stick your email address in the box below the menu bar that says "email" then hit the "sign me up" button. If all goes well, I should have it all together to go out by the end of the weekend.

In other news, I'm happy to report that no one of public significance died today. If anyone was near-death, I am sure they are hanging on until the media is finished with their wall-to-wall Michael Jackson coverage. I haven't been watching TV recently but I had KFWB news on the radio in my car today and was shocked that they'd gone from "all news all the time" to "all Michael Jackson all the time." I was listening just after the coroner had determined not to determine the cause of Michael's death and during the 15 minutes I was in the car I must have heard that little piece of non-info repeated at least 25 times. Sheesh. What's the point? I mean, I'm as shocked and saddened as the next person at the sudden death of MJ, but to hear the same useless stories over and over ad nauseum is a waste of airwaves if you ask me. Ha! And here I am talking about it for the second day in a row. Oops. My bad.

Okay, let's move on to the picture of the day...

What do these three photos/musicians have in common besides the fact that I shot them?

Celebrity Deathwatch

2009-06-25T19:09:00.000-07:00

What a crazy fucking day. First off it's the news that Farrah Fawcett lost her heroic battle against anal cancer. I did not photograph Farrah Fawcett nor did I ever meet her. I did, however, know her longtime boyfriend Ryan O'Neal way back when I was living at a condo he owned in Malibu. But I'll save my RO stories for another time. I did meet two of the other Angels...Cheryl Ladd when we were on Merv Griffin the same night and Jaclyn Smith on two occasions. But again, those encounters have nothing to do with this post.

So, I was just absorbing the news of Farrah's demise when up popped the news that Michael Jackson had died. That pretty much knocked me on my ass. Then I heard that he'd been taken to a hospital and his condition was unknown. Then he was dead. Then he wasn't. Let me also point out that I did not have the privilege to shoot or see Michael Jackson live. On his first round of fame I was too young and on the second bout - when he became dubbed the King of Pop - I had stopped shooting for a time and was involved in the film biz and making a baby.

Then, before Michael was officially pronounced, I heard that Harrison Ford was missing from a yacht that sank near St. Tropez. Then it was Jeff Goldblum, who had died when he fell on a movie set in New Zealand - I've met Jeff Goldblum and I think it would take a mighty big fall to end his life. Anyway, thankfully, both of these appear to be hoaxes. Then, just moments ago, someone on Facebook reported that Vicki Lawrence also died today, citing an article on variety.com which I could not find, nor could I find any mention of her passing anywhere else online.

Which brings me to my point... Sometimes I long for the good old days when the news came via the Pony Express without all the conjecture and hysteria.

So, who else died today that probably really did die?

Shiv Charan Mathur, 83, Indian politician, Governor of Assam since 2008, and former Chief Minister of Rajasthan.

Sky Saxon, bass guitarist, frontman and founder of The Seeds, after a brief illness.

Anil Wilson, 62, Indian academic, Principal of St. Stephen's College, Delhi (1991–2007), pancreatic cancer.

Yasmine, 37, Belgian singer and television presenter, suicide. Yasmine's official website is now just one page with this photograph...

A beautifully poignant photograph.

Let's hope Mr. Death has done his due for the day and may all the souls he stole rest in peace. As for the hoaxers...don't you all have something better to do than start wildfires?

Out of the Box

2009-06-24T22:10:00.000-07:00

I got myself a new office space. It's not quite as big as the last one but it's much nicer. The best thing about it? No dust. My other office had a huge dust problem, which is not great if you have a lot of negs and slides and photographs hanging about.

Anyway, I'm not completely moved in, nor have I set everything up - maybe I'll take a few photos once I have it together - but I did set up the scanner today so figured I should reach my hand into the neg pile and see who wanted to be scanned...

I came up with neg sheet #138, making it the concert after Waylon Jennings...probably some time in mid to late March 1975.

I don't have to tell you who these legends are...right?

Fine. Check the tags.

I gotta get back to organizing the new space. It's clean and new and cozy and dustless. I'm lovin' it. I expect my creativity to explode in the coming weeks and months. Like the fortune cookie that came with my dinner tonight said, "The coming month shall bring winds of change in your life." I can't wait.

Fathers

2009-06-23T11:44:00.000-07:00

This is a repost from a few Augusts ago that I wanted to post on Sunday for Father's Day and, knowing I needed to honor John Lee Hooker on Sunday, I meant to post it on Saturday...but for some unknown reason I farted out some strangeness from God knows where. Then I thought I'd post it on Monday but that was reserved for remembering George Carlin. So, today became the open slot. Hopefully my Dad won't take away my allowance or punish me in some other way for being late on wishing him a Happy Dad's Day. I mean, it's not like I didn't think about him all day Sunday.

So without further ado, I honor my Father...

Meet my dad. Cecil Chesher. He looks rather presidential, don't you think? And he was a president at least two times that I know of... when I was a baby he was president of the Calgary Stampeders (that's a professional football team in Canada for those of you scratching your heads), and he was president of his own company.

He was born in the very small town of Petrolia, Ontario and was an only child. His parents, George and Arlie, were of modest means. I never met my grandfather but Arlie was a fixture in our house throughout my childhood. She would arrive from Eastern Canada in early October for Christmas and would sometimes stay until Easter. I didn't mind. She made the best homemade bread and cinnamon buns in the Universe. She also taught us to play canasta and told really good stories.

My dad graduated from the University of Toronto with a degree in geological engineering when he was only eighteen. Yes, he was some sort of genius. He also had a knack of knowing where to drill for oil. While working for Shell he found the Jumping Pound Creek wells, which was a pretty big thing at the time (many, many years before I landed on the planet) and has even written up in a book or two. Whoa... I just came across this poster online at the Petroleum History Society that mentions my dad's accomplishments with regards to that find.

Wow, he would have only been in his early twenties when he accomplished that little feat and many years away from even meeting my mother. You can click on the poster if you want read the science-speak that my brain cells can't decipher.

He later started his own oil company and was also on the board of directors of an oil company based in Southern California. Thanks to that, I got my first taste of California as a kid. But you'll read a little more about that in my book so I won't spoil it for you here. My dad was also one of the founders of The Petroleum Club in Calgary. It was an upscale private club aimed at members of the oil community. I remember going there for dinner as a kid - getting all dressed up and feeling like we were dining with the Queen. They always had a jazz band playing and my dad would let me stand on his feet as he glided the two of us around the dance floor.

All the fun and fancy times ended around the time my parents split up when I was twelve. It was a bit messy as these things often are, but I was still able to see my dad on a regular basis and he was always there for me when I needed him. He was the one who taught me that if I wanted something done right I would have to do it myself. It was a great lesson that made me the independent person I am, but on the other hand it became so etched in my being that I am now just learning that it's okay to ask for help.

When I moved to Los Angeles in August of 1975, my dad was still living in Calgary but he also had a house in Palm Desert. I was struggling beyond belief when I first arrived in L.A. Shooting bands wasn't the problem. I just couldn't have a 'real' job here to support my photography while I was getting established because I didn't have a green card. But being instilled with way too much pride, I didn't have it in me to call my dad and ask for his help. He probably wouldn't have helped anyway... he wasn't the type of dad to give hand-outs.

Finally, in late September I somehow got booked to shoot an Australian band, Ayer's Rock, while they were recording at the Record Plant. The shoot would pay me enough money to cover a few bills and cover my gas to Palm Desert so I could visit my dad and pretend I was doing fine. I made arrangements with him to drive over the following weekend. It was perfect timing. His wife was going back to Calgary so we planned to spend the weekend alone, just catching up and reconnecting.

It was early Friday afternoon and I was sitting in the reception area of the Concerts West offices on Sunset Boulevard. I was waiting to see the main guy who I'd been trying to get an appointment with for two months. I had shot lots of shows they had promoted in the Pacific Northwest and I wanted to show them my pictures in hopes of them letting me shoot their shows in L.A. I planned to drive to the desert right after the appointment. I figured if I could bring my dad good news from the meeting and the Ayer's Rock job, he would give me advice on making my photography business work in L.A. Maybe I could even get him to invest. (An investment proposal would at least be a couple of rungs up from asking for a hand-out.)

So, there I sat, eavesdropping on everything the Concerts West receptionist said to the multitude of callers that rang in while I waited to see the big cheese...when suddenly my pager went off. I had a pager because I didn't have a home phone. Actually, I didn't even have a home. I was crashing wherever I could. And of course this was before cell phones were in every hand of the general public. As quickly as I hit the beeper button, my pager would go off again. And again. And again. What the hell... my pager would go days without beeping and suddenly I was the most popular girl on the block.

The receptionist looked at me and asked if I needed to use the phone. I didn't really want to call in for my message before the meeting - I wanted to stay focused - but she looked insistent so I picked up the phone and dialed. I had somewhere around ten messages. For some reason my pager hadn't been beeping all day. Until right before what I thought was the most important meeting of my life. I began listening to the messages. They were all from members of my family. My mother. My brothers. My sisters. Some of them had called more than once. None of them left me a message other than to call them back. There was only one member of my family that hadn't called. My dad.

The girl behind the desk couldn't help but notice the glazed look on my face when I hung up and asked if I could make one more call. I phoned my brother in Calgary and got the news I expected. My dad was dead. About the time I hung up the phone and tried to regain my composure, the big cheese emerged from his office. Both he and the receptionist saw there was something terribly wrong, so I had no choice but to tell them my dad had died. They offered to reschedule the meeting. I said no, I was fine to go ahead with it. In my head I was thinking about how long it had taken me to get the meeting. And my dad had also taught me pragmatism. He would have wanted me to go through with the meeting. What I didn't realize was that it was more uncomfortable for them than it was for me. I should have rescheduled.

Anyway, I ended up going to the desert that weekend but not before I picked up my brother at LAX. My other brother was already there. The three of us spent the weekend talking about our dad. And we had a few ghostly experiences - stories that I'll save for another time.

I guess you're wondering why the hell I'm writing all this personal stuff about my dad. First of all, it was his birthday on Saturday. But mostly, I thought you should get to know him. Because if it weren't for my dad, Everybody I Shot Is Dead would not be coming out this Fall. You see, my dad left a rather unorthodox will. It's a bit complicated and there's no reason to go into detail other than to say that I received my remaining share a couple of years ago. I put it away as the seed money to build my nest egg on, swearing I would never touch it.

I actually had no intention of publishing this book myself, but I reconsidered after I read through my journals and relived the torture of all the meetings I had with the big NY houses before I decided to publish Starart. Then, as I walked by my dad's picture that hangs on the wall between my living and dining rooms, a thought washed over my mind. I should check and see how much this book is going to cost to print, knowing full well that there was no way I could afford to do it...especially the way I wanted it.

Still, I figured there was no harm in checking. Remember what my dad always told me: if you want something done right... So, I went to a bookstore and scoured all the books that lived up to my quality standards. I found a printer and submitted the specs for an estimate. Turns out my dad's money was the exact amount I needed to print the book. What are the chances of that? I took that as a sign. That, and the fact that taking pictures of rock stars was the one thing he knew I was doing. Oh yeah, and he paid for my camera. And now I can't help thinking that's exactly how it was supposed to be. It just seems fitting that my dead father is financing my dead rock star book. Making it possible for me to honor these fine musicians. I just hope he knows I am also honoring him.

Thanks, Dad.

George Carlin

2009-06-22T11:25:00.000-07:00

One year ago today we lost our great funnyman, George Carlin. I was lucky enough to photograph and meet him back in the day. He could do more with a chair and an empty stage than anyone. It was all about the words and how he could string them together and make us laugh.

George Carlin

5/12/37-6/22/08

This is his Seven Words bit...please do not watch it if foul language offends you.

Thank you for the fun times, George.

You can see lots more pictures and learn more about the other 48 musicians in my tribute book, Everybody I Shot Is Dead.

John Lee Hooker

2009-06-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

John Lee Hooker. One of the coolest of the cool. One of the nicest of the nice. One of my favorite subjects...if not my most favorite. It was such a privilege to shoot him and meet him.

He passed away 8 years ago today. Even though he lived a pretty long life, I wish he was still around. So I could see him play one more time. So I could take some more photographs of him.

I love, love, love him.

John Lee Hooker

8/22/20 - 6/21/01

Here's an early version of Boom Boom...

What a legendary bluesman. Thanks for all the great music, Mr. Hooker.

You can see lots more pictures and learn more about John Lee Hooker and the 47 other musicians in my tribute book, Everybody I Shot Is Dead.