ah, my fellow d.a.residents. it must be time for my monthly gripes, for indeed, here i am. some of you know me, and most of you dont. the few that know me i would imagine find me more for my lovely wife, (whom i have the great privilege of shooting here ), rather than my skill of photography . it is 2:20 a.m. here and as custom dictates, i have a beef and it has to come out or i cant get to sleep. i have a special skill. i think its my ears or the ability to see with them . it used to be my voice but now, its my ears and has been for a long time. i sang opera . i like to think i did it rather well, but thats for others to truly decide . that, finally brings me to my point . ( bet you never thought it would huh? ) when i was a young lad, i had a almost adoring hero worshiping of damn near anyone that was really good at things. it seldom mattered what it was. i think my first mentor was a man who used to beat ants with a hammer. he didnt speak english, and i didnt speak spanish and yet i spent most of my time watching and trying to be like him. he was an old man, didnt seem to have much energy and damn, he used to use this beautiful rubber and wood mallet that he used like the god of thunder, thor , on them damn ants. he would have the patience of a saint killing them one at a time. yep, i still to this day do it like him. but not as great. it may seems odd to you, and to be honest, it does to me too but when i see an ant, i have this ungodly urge to clobber it man to ant. it was a form of hero worship to me that damn old man. but i admired him for it. at a young age, i found out that i was good at the normal things a kid might be good at. sports, the usual forms and singing. at first i didnt really pay much attention to music, treating it more like the good times i had had in it. it made me feel good. sports, much the same way. one was a physical release, the other, a feeling of feeling important . i was kinda torn between them both until i entered college. i wanted them both, but couldnt do it. they both demanded my attention and i couldnt have both. they both came easy to me yet music filled me with a greater need. i became good. damn good, much better than i had a right to be . but it never really sank in just how good i was because i never really had to work terribly hard for it. in college, i found attention like i never had before. i postponed much of my studies because i performed too much in bigger and better places. i gave into the act of not knowing how good or bad i was because around me, i was near or at the top. i felt i was in way over my head performing with others who were so much older and much more expirenced than i. but still, i had so much talent . i was too young to care or even try to learn from these giants i worked with. then, it started happening. the dreaded word that i grew to understand. i worked with artists. not that many, but the ones i knew were, were head and shoulders above the cut. it was what they did, and the ease in which they did it. every phrase, every movement seemed to be so magical that i felt like a little boy and yet, here i was. performing with these greats. was i their equal ?, hell no . but my roles were every bit as big as theirs. were they that much better? yeah, i think so. i felt like a rookie but i had the swagger that one needed i suppose . did i ever acheive their style and greatness? nope. becasue i wasnt an artist. was i better than most? my paychecks and touring said i did. but i knew, even thought i was usually 15 to 20 years younger than most of them, that i wasnt their equal. i see punk kids using terms so damn easily. hey, i am an artist. i make art. yeah, right. artists can be made, yes. but most true artists are found, not made. these so called rock stars. most make me puke. they cant sing worth a shit but perform pretty good and god, do they make the bucks i never did. envy ?, nope. but i know . i know. and then, i come to d.a. . really has opened my eyes. i see some damn good photographers. ok. them , i am envious. i first started taking just snapshots. cauze i really didnt know any better. but as time went, i got a little better. i have had much encourgement from people i truly admire, but i know. i know. i will manage to get better, but to call myself an artist? i think of what i used to say when fans used to ask me about my artistry." i dont paint " is what i used to tell them. kinda funny looks the newspaper reporters used to give me when i used this quip. every damn person here with a camera thinks they are an artist. yeah, right, and i play ball like kobe bryant cauze i have a basketball. folks, i hope a few of you giants read this and think about what i am trying to say. just because you can pee standing up dont make you a man. being an artist is something you earn , if.... you are lucky . its something god hits you with. not something you can be just because you think you are. i am a photographer, and not very good at that, and yet, i am probably going to be better than some of the so called, self annoited, demigods here who think they create art. and i still, i repeat, i aint no artist. so think hard about what you truly are, and what you hope, even pray, you might be able to become.