Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Big Announcement

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...


Monday, June 29, 2009

Tim Buckley and Lowell George

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.


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.


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, .

Sunday, June 28, 2009


...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.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Sick Day

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.

Friday, June 26, 2009

I'm Going Crazy

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 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?

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Celebrity Deathwatch

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?

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Out of the Box

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.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009


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 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.

Monday, June 22, 2009

George Carlin

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.


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, .

Sunday, June 21, 2009

John Lee Hooker

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.

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, .

Saturday, June 20, 2009


There are two definitions of the word "blitzed":
1) drunk or stoned.
2) extremely tired.

I am one of those. I'll let you decide.

I did something today that I had not done in seven years.

It could be a new beginning.

Or it could be the end.

Only time (and my efforts) will tell.

I'm counting on the former.

Sorry for being so cryptic but I have no choice.

But we will all see what the future brings.

Hopefully brightness. Loads of brightness.

Stay tuned.

A thematically appropriate photograph:

When I touched on this picture out of a gaggle of sky shots, I was suddenly hearing this:

You know the day destroys the night
Night divides the day
Tried to run
Tried to hide
Break on through to the other side
~ The Doors

Not in a negative way. More in a metamorphosis, rise from the ashes kind of way.

Hope you are having a great weekend.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Peter Bardens

A Happy 64th Birthday to Peter Bardens. He was one of the original founders and keyboardist of Camel.

Peter was also the person who discovered Mick Fleetwood banging on the drums a few doors down from where he lived and got him started on his professional career.


This is Skylines from Camel...spotlighting Peter on keyboards...

You can see lots more pictures and learn more about Peter Bardens and the 47 other musicians in my tribute book, .

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Back In The Old Days...

...we (designers, photographers, artists) used to walk around with portfolios attached to our hand.

Does anybody do that anymore?

This was one of mine that I used for garnering entertainment advertising work...

Notice the dust on the top? And that's after I took a feather duster to it this morning.

This is how we - well, at least I - do it these days....

Any ideas on what I should do with the Old School portfolio? I'm so bad at throwing stuff away. It's gotta be good for something, right?

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Lost Angeles

It's really difficult to treat you to anything new and exciting when I have tunnel vision. And when my life is like a construction zone. Complete with scaffolding, jack hammers, ever-changing blueprints, hard hats, and cussing. Or maybe it's more of a deconstruction zone with carefully placed explosives. We'll have to wait and see.

I have no idea where today went. I believe it morphed into Superman because it was definitely faster than a speeding bullet. Which is not good for me because I only have two full days left before the first phase of the reconstruction (see how positive-thinking I am?) of my life has to be completed. Call it the molting phase. Two days? Not nearly enough.

During this phase and the early part of phase two, I doubt I will be in the zone to impart anything remotely close to rock'n'roll. Such as diving into the file cabinet to find and post some new old pictures of a rock star I forgot I shot. Other than, of course, a birthday and deathday coming up later this week.

In the meantime, you'll have to settle for my cryptic musings. In addition to that potentially boring prospect, I will try and find something interesting to shoot everyday that I can post for the art of photography's sake...which means my weirder stuff...like in how I see the world...and myself in it...like this one that I shot sometime last week...

I was going to call it California but I thought I should be more specific so I'm going with Lost Angeles.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009


I have no idea.

Got up.

Drank coffee (decaf).

Ate chocolate pudding cake with strawberries.

Took a shower.

Sent some emails.

Made some calls.

Talked to an entertainment lawyer.

Used liquid plumber.

Cleaned out a bookcase.

Swept the floor.

Cleaned out two large file drawers (the horizontal kind).

Thought about a lot of stuff.

Made a salad.

Hit the post office.

Drove to Hollywood.

Stood in a hella-hot line for a screening.

Took my picture.

Talked to a guy who recognized me from Cannon ('88).

Watched a movie.

Went for half a cheeseburger.

Drove home.

Gathered my computer and wacom from my office.

Spilled the remaining decaf on my desk.

Got paper towels.

Swabbed the desk.

Brushed my teeth.

Went to my room.

Retouched a photograph (not mine).

Wrote a blog post.

Admired my picture (I quite like it).

Hit the publish post button.

Went to sleep.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Harry Nilsson and Waylon Jennings

Double the celebration today with two birthdays of two legendary musicians.

First, it's Harry Nilsson's 68th birthday. He had a golden voice. So much so, that when asked, way back when, John Lennon named him as his favorite. Of course, that statement initiated Harry's fame.

He didn't play concerts but I caught a few photos of him in a more intimate setting...dinner at Klaus Voormann's house...

6/15/41 - 1/15/94

This oughta get the party started...feel free to add rum...

And today is also Waylon's 72nd birthday. Love, love, love this bad boy cowboy....


A few legends on this stage to keep the party rockin'...

Happy Birthday to two of my very favorite photographic subjects!!

And to the rest of you...ROCK ON!

You can see lots more pictures and learn more about Harry Nilsson, Waylon Jennings and the 46 other musicians in my tribute book, .

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Rory Gallagher

14 years ago we lost one of the greats. Rory Gallagher was not only one of the greatest guitarists he was an amazing live performer and spent most of his time on the road.

If you're not familiar with his music you are missing out and it's time you get to know him.


This is a performance in France in '71. Felt just right for an easy-going Sunday...

There is tons of cool Rory vids on youtube and I encourage you check out more of them.

You can see lots more pictures and learn more about Rory Gallagher and the 47 other musicians in my tribute book, .

Saturday, June 13, 2009


What to keep? What to sell? What to donate? What to trash? Those are the questions.

I finished the file drawer I started a couple of days ago. And a whole other drawer. And actually turned two file drawers into one. That is satisfaction.

I also - finally - got around to taking care a pile of papers and other stuff that was piled up on a buffet table in my living room since the contents of a storage closet in a room that was once my second office was dumped and strewn all over the house...a couple of months ago.

And during that I found this photo taken in another office I had in another house I once owned. The house I wish I never sold. But that's another story. Anyway, you can pretty much tell how old this picture is...

...because my hair is shorter than Andre Agassi's.

And that concludes the entertainment for today.

Except to let you know I succeeded on Facebook. My new URL is . Feel free to click on it and add me as a friend.

Friday, June 12, 2009


This is what I'm waiting for...

Of course, now there's less than 4 minutes. I'm doing this because I want my rightful name...ChesherCat. And it's one of those things that I never seem to get when I sign up for usernames. Hopefully, not this time 'cause I AM ON IT.

Okay, less than three minutes on the page countdown. I better go and take care of business. I'll let you know what happened in my next post.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

This Is Me...

...getting all my ducks in row and crossing to the other side of the road. I'm doing a major overhaul at my office and throughout my house. I've come to realize I've been walking around with a thousand pound ball and chain attached to my ankle. No wonder I've been so tired.

So, this is it. Last chance for romance. Time to let the Anal Chick I've been holding hostage inside my Slothen Self finally escape. To tell you the truth, that bitch may be the one that's been holding me back and wearing me down. So I'm giving in and giving up. Swimming upstream is not the way to reach the open sea. My Slothen Self is surrending to the overpowering Anal Chick. Slothen Self is going down like the Magic in overtime. Making room for the Anal Chick to fulfill he promise of growth, prosperity...and enough spare time to have a life.

I guess it's about time I let go. About time I stop rebeling. To tell you the truth, rebeling has gotten me nowhere. And I'm kinda sick of swimming upstream. I'm sick of trying so hard. I'm sick of trudging through all the piles of shit (pretend that's a metaphor). It's time to take the pooper scooper out and clear the stench. Make room for the flowers to grow. It's finally really dawning on me that you can't move forward if you've got a Sasquatch on your back.

I know know exactly what I have to do. But there's still this one nagging question.... Can I actually do it? I've tried this exercise before, more than once. But I've always stalled out. But I figure by putting it out here I cannot fail. I'm hoping to accomplish it - well, at least 70% of it - by the end of this month. Along with some paying work in there for good measure. Really...that's what I'm gonna do.

While I've been thinking about...maybe pondering is a more accurate word...this duck lining up thing all year, I only really started today. To be honest, I just started tonight. And so far I've rifled through half a file drawer.

Go ahead, you can laugh at me. It's okay...I'm kinda laughing at myself. Yeah, I know a half a file drawer is not exactly getting the ducks in a row or moving the mountain. I know I have to pick up the pace. Big time. But I'm sleep deprived. Hoping to get a full night of zzzzs tonight so I can really get it going tomorrow and throughout the weekend.

So, when you're finihed laughing at me, send some good "get off your ass and do it, Chesher" vibes. I can use all the help I can get.

Most appreciated.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Reader Appreciation Day

It's true. I appreciate each and every one of you. Especially the regulars. A few of you are regulars, right? I know there are a gazillion blogs that you could be reading right now and here you are reading mine. Thank you.

I really wish blogs didn't have to be virtual. I wish we were all in the same place - say in a cozy cafe on Quai de la Tournelle gazing across the river at Notre Dame - having a conversation face-to-face instead of me plopped on my bed writing these words and you, sometime later, reading my words to yourself, wherever you are, in complete anonymity to me. It's not fair. At least you can see my picture. There are probably 90% of you that I will never have the opportunity to know or even see your picture.

But I digress. That maudlin rant was not the point of this post. This is Reader Appreciation Day. The day where I let you know how honored I am that you've stopped by. And especially appreciative of those of you who drop in and then come back on a regular basis.

I was thinking about it this afternoon. What can I give back to the people who take time out of their day to read my blog? And I immediately had a flash. How about a print?

So, that's what I'm going to do. Sort of. I can't afford to do a give-away that will require me to outlay cash. Sorry. But times are tough. My house on Easy Street was sold off when I was twelve. I'm struggling just like everybody else. Well, except maybe John Mayer or, I don't know, who else makes a boatload of cash these days? Oh yeah, that chick that's on TV every afternoon...what's her name...Oprah.

But I am going to offer a couple of prints for what it costs me to package and ship. These are the prints...

I'm going to "give away" 20 of each print. Your shipping and packing cost is $12.50. You need to send me an email to prints@cheshercat.com telling me what you want to order and your mailing address. If they're still available I will send you back an email instructing you how to make the payment on Paypal. If you order a 2nd print at the same time, your total will be $17.50. Limit of two prints per person and you can order two of the same or one of each.

In case you don't know, the Tom Waits print sells for $30 + $8 shipping and the George Harrison print currently sells for $15 + $8 shipping. So, I figure the $12.50 is a deal and $17.50 for two prints pretty much kills. And as I said, I can only offer 20 of each print. Sorry I can't afford to make them completely free.

Thanks again for taking an interest in what I do. If we were at that Parisian cafe I'd give you a big, fat hug.

***ooops...I forgot to mention...this offer is only available to US addresses...if you're somewhere else you can email me and I can give you a quote for the shipping cost to your destination***

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Ron Aspery

Ever hear of Ron Aspery? Ever hear of a band called Back Door? I didn't think so.

I probably wouldn't have either had they not been the opening act for Emerson, Lake and Palmer. Back Door were a three-man jazz-sort-of-rock-fusion band that managed to blow 17,500 people away when they didn't even fill a quarter of the stage at the Coliseum in Vancouver. And Ron Aspery played a wicked saxophone and wasn't bad on the flute too.

Today is a celebration of Ron Aspery's 63rd birthday.


Unfortunately, I couldn't find any footage of Ron playing live but this is the next best thing. So, sit back and feast your ears on the saxophone of Back Door's Ron Aspery...

You can see more pictures and learn more about Ron Aspery and the 47 other musicians in my tribute book, .

Monday, June 08, 2009


I have spent the last two hours searching for a piece of paper that I need for tomorrow morning.

No luck.



Lame duck.

But all is not lost... At least I found a Polaroid photo I was looking for a couple of months ago that I wanted to scan and post. And now I'm wondering if I had actually scanned it and posted it before and hadn't filed it back in its proper place.

Well, too bad if I did...'cause I got nothing else. If you need to understand why, just scroll down and read yesterday's post. And what I didn't mention yesterday is that my office is a hella mess and I'm so far behind on things I'm supposed to deal with - you know, those things that I should deal with in the moment but I let pile up until they become an overwhelming mountain of crap that will eat up tons of time to shovel through with absolutely no return for me? Yeah, those things.

Okay, never mind. Like I said, I did find this Polaroid that I couldn't find before and whether or not I had found it before and posted it, I am posting it again. It is one of my fondest memories...

This was one of the times I was staying at Maureen's house. Probably the time that Ringo was there recuperating from intestinal surgery. He may have even taken this picture. I had a lot of fun there...staying up really really late...doing artsy-crafty things...drinking yummy Irish coffees with double cream. And posing for ridiculously silly pictures.

Now, if I could just find that piece of paper...

Sunday, June 07, 2009

Where Does All The Time Go...

...and why don't I get enough done?

Anyone else have this problem? I put a new status up on Facebook today, "Deborah Chesher is chasing her imaginary tail." That pretty much tell the story. I feel like I'm busy every minute of every day but whenever I check in with myself I can't figure out what I've accomplished.

And right now I'm so freaking spent, my teeny tiny little brain can barely string enough words together to constitute a Sunday post. I hope it's still Sunday.

I'm still editing the road trip footage. I'm thinking that should have only taken a couple days, even with the Final Cut Pro learning curve. Yes, I believe I should be that brilliant. I was planning to meet with our esteemed director on Friday but something else came up that needed immediate attention and since she had an opening this Tuesday that allowed me to stop working on it full tilt. But now that Tuesday is looming, I will be in full tilt (oops, I almost left the 'l' out of 'tilt') mode - aw, fuck it - I'll be in full tit mode tomorrow.

What else have I been doing? I really have no idea. Oh yeah, been looking for income-bearing work. That's always good for some fun and joy. And I finally unpacked - okay there's still one suitcase lazing in the middle of the floor but I'm almost positive there's nothing in it. I did a load of laundry. I'm still killing flies. Went to the grocery store. Saw Up. Hope you got the correct meaning of possibly the shortest sentence I have written this week. Took the dogs to the puppy park at least once...maybe twice. Which is the perfect segue to today's photo(s)...

Whilst Drama was an expert at fetching the frisbee ring...

...he was flummoxed on how to bring it back...

...wondering if it was some new bling thing...

...or maybe something he should babysit.

And lastly but not leastly...I posted every day this week and am still maintaining my resolution to post every single day this year. Oh, oh, oh...I just looked at my stats on the side bar...do you see it?...I have written more posts this year (158 including this one) than I have in any of the three years previous...and it's only the beginning of June. I surpassed my best year (2007) 17 days ago. And I will surpass the combined total of posts in the past three years on the 15th of December. No wonder I am chasing my imaginary tail. Which reminds me...I need to get back to that.

Looking for to a super-productive week. I have a long list. If only I can get it all done.

Saturday, June 06, 2009

Billy Preston

It was a sad day indeed when we lost the great Billy Preston 3 years ago. I shot him when he was playing with George Harrison on his Dark Horse tour. That's Billy behind the piano on the far left...


And this is about the coolest thing ever...

What an amazing performer!

You can see more pictures and learn more about Billy Preston and the 47 other musicians in my tribute book, .

Friday, June 05, 2009

Tom Evans

Today is Tommy's 62nd birthday. For those of you not in the know, Mr. Evans was the bass player/singer/songwriter for one of the greatest bands to come out of the UK in the early '70s. In case you didn't figure it out already, the band was Badfinger.


This is a very cool video that features Evans singing:

And their very poignant Ham/Evans composition, Without You:

You can see lots more pictures and learn more about Tom Evans and the 47 other musicians in my tribute book, .

Thursday, June 04, 2009

Remembering John Hartford

The brilliant and very interesting life of John Hartford was cut short by non-hodgkin’s lymphoma on this day eight years ago.

In case you're fuzzy on who he is, John wrote the multi-Grammy winning song, Gentle On My Mind. And for those of you who are too young to remember that song, he also won a Grammy for his contributions to the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack.


I love this performance of Gentle on Mind...

And for something completely different...

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Anything Goes

And it did...this was a Whole Lotta Fun...

Congrats to Jessica Keenan Wynn Armstrong (in the center wearing the red dress) and the rest of the cast for putting on a great performance of Cole Porter's Anything Goes at UCLA. I'd tell you to go see it but I think the remaining four shows are sold out.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009


And here's my proof...a screen grab off my computer...

It's time consuming and I need to get it finished by Thursday. A lot left to do. But I'm enjoying the experience.

I'm also unhappy that someone googled this to get to my site...

My link was at the bottom of the first page in the #10 slot. I do not have the pictures this person was looking for, nor would I ever go looking for them.

See ya tomorrow.

Monday, June 01, 2009


***This blog post is rated R for language and violence.***

Fuck 'em. I go away for less than three weeks and I come home to an infestation. I'm in kill mode. You don't want to get in my way. I will swat you 'til you're dead. Seriously.

And there's nothing more disgusting than finding where they dropped their maggot carci. That's my new word for the day...carci. It's the new plural for carcass. Pronounced car-ki with a long 'i'. I know the plural is supposed to be carcasses but the ending of that word is just way too soft - as if I'm saying caresses - yup, way too soft to be effective in discussing anything to do with fucking flies.

I would have taken a photo of all the carci but that would certainly incite a mass exodux from this blog. However, there are still three flies circling my presence, doing their best to evade my rolled magazine armed right hand. I am going to try a get a picture of one of them to post here. Don't know if I cana since the big camera is otherwise engaged this evening and I am left with only my flashless iPhone. I should have shot the two that were lollygagging on the plexi frame of my Jean Harlow silkscreen print before I flattened them into flycakes sans syrup.

Okay...photo mission accomplished. Not my greatest work*, but I can see the emotion...especially in the last one. In case you're wondering, the first two are the before pictures and the last one is after I gave it a make-over.

I don't believe I am a natural born killer (maybe there's a personality test I can take to determine this) but I admit to killing flies. They make me insane. And I haven't researched them but I can't think of any usefulness they provide. Feel free to enlighten me if you like and next time I'll call in some fly herders to take them out through the back door.

Have a nice night and please don't blame me if your dream about Jeff Goldblum.

*This photo shoot was not easy. The fly decided to pose on the ceiling. I had to stand on a cushioned chair and reach my iPhone to extended arm's length (sadly no zoom on the iPhone). I also had to bring in an assistant to hold a light like the statue of liberty. I want to thank the fly for its ability to hold a pose and appreciate the sacrifice it made for the final photo.
BTW, the fly signed a full waiver and understood the risks involved.