BTW – as you may or may not know, I’ve had Crohn’s for the last 30+ years. That in itself is a long story with money and pain and lots of lost time during the last two years.
BUT, I was thinking that someone might be interested in purchasing my entire collection of negatives (roughly 200,000) and digital files (another 150,000).
Walker Evans did something along those lines while he was still alive. I don’t think I’d sell anything while I’m still here in this world; still a lot that has never been seen. But I would certainly like to make some sort of deal to leave them to a collector once I’m gone.
Which could be tomorrow or 20 years from now. My health is actually improving since I’ve been on H-umira (began about a month ago). But at times the flare ups were so bad I couldn’t walk. (It affects the joints, and muscles etc. when it’s really bad.)
All those pictures I took on my trips to Paris – I couldn’t have done without their a) Codeine over the counter, and b) wonderful public toilets.
It wasn’t an accident, all the images I have of old, sick people. I saw myself in them years ago.
The whole H-umira saga is a story in itself, since my insurance doesn’t cover it. I ended up getting help (after a long delay) from the Abbvie Foundation, and I’m poor enough so that they give it to me for free now.
Any sort of big donation would make me ineligible for their assistance, and I still make too much for Medicaid.
What a story. For years I had an angel of a doctor, who studied under the guy Crohn’s is named after. And for a long time was in complete remission. About four years ago, he died suddenly – and then I was lost.
I experimented with Poppy Tea (illegal) which slows down the peristalsis, like most opioids, and was using that for about two years until I reached Medicare age.
Then I went through the horrors of opiate withdrawal. You really don’t want to know about that.
Luckily, I have wonderful friends and family around that helped me through it. BTW, buying dried poppies is still legal. Once you grind them up and brew them, you are breaking the law.
Also, they are a mixture of opiate types with various half-lifes, so the withdrawal is worse than heroin withdrawal. Add that to the Crohn’s flare ups, and you will be in hell.
And on top of all that you never really got high. No nodding off or any of that. No big rush, unless you took too much.
But that’s a story for another day.
Eventually, I found a GI guy who had studied under the first doc who had died suddenly. And he’s been a mensch.
I still have some symptoms. My C-reactive protein (indicating inflammation) is still high – but next week, I’ll be taking a double dose as per instructions; and already I’m back out and shooting again.
So I’ve wandered around, trying to explain my real-life situation. I’m beginning to get job offers again. Phew.
But I am serious about looking for someone to purchase my unfinished work, after I’m gone. But of course would need payment upfront. That might be tricky. I haven’t given it all that much thought.
I know Walker Evans was still alive while his life’s work was carted away. So maybe that’s how it works.
For some reason, (supply & demand) it seems we’re really discovered after we’re gone. That doesn’t work well for me.
There are a few places that have offered to take my work once I’m gone (no money involved, just to have them and show them) but that doesn’t interest me.
If you want to have a good read, Rembrandt (and I don’t claim to be anywhere near his league) died bankrupt. His son went through his stuff and sold it off to pay for funeral expenses and all the debts he owed. Yes, Rembrandt died bankrupt.
Apparently he couldn’t help buying books about anatomy and other painters work.
Okay – enough about that – have a good night. Tomorrow I plan to get out finally and see Black Panther in a very comfortable theater. And then get back to the Ghost Station project with Weber. It’s something that’s never been done, i.e. photographing the tunnels from a moving train.
I actually was in a full-blown Crohn’s flare up when this was taken. But even I wasn’t aware of how bad it was.