motion shoot

Quick Tips

Quick tip- If using a DSLR. A lot of people try to achieve the film look with their DSLRs. But what does the film look mean exactly?

I’m sure most are familiar with the basic concept of the “film” look. 24 fps a nice cinematic color grade and shallow depth of field.

But did you know a shallow depth of field is the most over used technique?

One over looked detail is the 28mm lens.

Orson Wells, Malick, Scorsese, and Spielberg have all cited the 28mm lens as one of their most frequently used and, in some cases, their favorite. It has been the gold standard in shooting motion pictures for well over a century.

“Polaris and Friends, with Special Guests, the Perseids”

I caught 15 Perseid meteors during this 4 hour timelapse, along with a few planes, and a bunch of stars.
Here’s a version without the star trails, where you can see the meteors much better.

Okay but like how fucking unamused must aliens be with Earth tbh we’re like an annoying kid with a slingshot throwing loud, noisy projectiles out of our atmosphere like can you imagine?
“Dude what’s up with that blue planet?”
“Oh that’s Earth, they’re really noisy and throw things a lot. Don’t go there.”

Wellness Wednesday IV

Hey there friends!

This weeks workout will be focusing on everyone’s favorite thing, cardio. I think they should make the official name hardio lol

Anyways, i’m training for an event at the end of the year and thought I would share one of my cardio workouts with you!

As per usual, I recommend that you foam roll (10-20min) due to the amount of leg activity involved in this workout.

Now that your legs are nice and loose, we’re going to go for a slow paced run. When I say slow, I mean you can walk faster than this pace, but it’s the running motion that counts. Shoot for about 10-12 min per mile.

That wasn’t too bad was it? You should be warmed up now and ready to challenge the legs.

For the rest of the workouts I wear a weighted vest, but you don’t need to use that unless you want to really challenge yourself. 

The second activity will be on the stair stepper. If you do not have one of these machines, you can go to a football stadium and walk the stairs. I like to spend about 30 min on this. If you are unable to complete 30 min, you can break it up in to 10 min on each machine until you have done 30 min.

Next will be incline walking. Set the treadmill to about 2-3 mph on the highest incline. Try not to use the arm rails for this workout. You won’t have those when you are out in the real world hiking up a hill. If you have to put your hands on your hips to help you step. Again, go for about 30 min’s on the treadmill. 

The final workout will be on the stationary bike. Find a setting that you will be able to do for 30 min and go. Simple enough.   

Your legs should be feeling like jello right about now! If not, then you are a beast!! Please stretch and foam roll after this workout or you wont be able to walk properly in a day or so.

Good job friends hope to see you all next week!



  • 2 mile run slow paced 20-25 min
  • 30 min stair stepper
  • 30 min max incline treadmill walk
  • 30 min stationary bike
Once upon a lazy Sunday afternoon...

She wore bright colors a lot and very oversized pants that barely hung on to her skinny waist. She always had her hair up in thick tight curls of chemically-bleached blonde and that day she wore a tight tank top that made me curious about why she only had one nipple pierced but I did not ask. “Let me shoot you”

“What?” She gazed over my head like I had disturbed her day dream, we had been walking in silence for a bit but it was not awkward. Maybe not yet. It was one of those weathers where it was not warm enough yet but the sun was out and people were optimistic in their boho pants and almost thick sweaters but she wore a thin strapped tank top and goosebumps from the cold.

“This is a perfect weather for a good shoot” I motioned to my camera.

She laughed “I heard that’s what you tell all the pretty girls” we were entering Starbucks now and she was no longer facing me, so I could not read her face when she said “Your reputation precedes you Casanova” but I imagined she smirked.

“But you’re not pretty, so you know I’m serious”

“Ahhh” Getting another laughter from her felt good, as I realized this was the longest conversation we had since she moved to my town.

Shortly after, we sat down with our order but I did not need to, I downed my water at a go. So now I watched her drink coffee but it was a lazy Sunday afternoon and I was not in a rush.

“So why do you always tell me no?” It was curious really, the reason why my infamous “pick-up” line always worked was because pretty girls did love to get their pictures taken, but not her. And she was.

Her fingers were pink from the heat of the cup, but she pressed it closer to her lips and I could tell she was stalling.

It was hard to forget when she spoke really, like she was not aware that she could hurt you. “I hate your pictures” Her gaze did not shift, she was serious.

She shrugged “I know you’re a good photographer, the best maybe but I just don’t like them”.

It was simple and I caught on that she spoke with a sympathetic bluntness. She did not mean it to hurt but my art was my life. So, it hurt.

But my bruised ego was not bruised enough to fake a laughter so I laughed. I was going to prove her wrong. She laughed along with me and we talked about nothings after.

I could tell she was dreaming again, she had a tiny smile that curved at the side of her face or a naughty one. It was a perfect picture. I drew out my camera and captured the moment, it was beautiful. Her eyes widened. “you know you don’t have to pretend to want to take pictures of me to get me to like you”

I showed her the picture to shut her up. “I’m not pretending Ellis, you’re gorgeous” I remember I hardly said her name, I always doubted I pronounced it right and it did not feel like a name intended for a girl like her.

She took a long look and I was starting to doubt if I was proving her wrong. She sighed “I hate it”

I dragged out a repressed, frustrated “why?”

“Honestly… I would take a picture to hide my flaws or whatever I don’t like about myself, that’s the one time I can decide to get my good side to show or hide my pimple or my other unpierced nipple, which I noticed you have not stopped staring at by the way” She giggled, she could see my blush but she continued. “Your pictures show everything, you cannot really hide and I don’t like that” she shrugged “But I like you already so you do not need to keep taking them”.  I liked her too, I really liked her.

“Why would you want to hide?”

She ignored my question. “I am so serious all the time, can we get high?”

I drove her back to my place and my dealer was running late but we already had Alina Baraz on repeat and she was fiddling in my fridge for food, she knew how to do that, get comfortable fast, take a lot of space but just enough that she was not in your face. We smoked, she laughed a lot at my jokes, and at me. I told her about my tattoos and she told me how all of them were pointless. I still did not ask her about her piercing and she told me we should get matching tattoos in the summer. I was too high to fight it, she kissed me.

Later she danced around in nothing but my pajama shirt, because she was too lazy to put her clothes back on after I took them off but not too lazy to dance. I took more pictures.

I woke up to an empty bed on Monday morning, But I reminisced on the night before and it kept a smile on my face. I wanted to call her, it was too soon, no I had lost her number. Shit.

Maybe I would see her in Uni, but I did not. I kept my eyes out for a fiery high bun. And dreamt about non-symmetrical nipple piercings. The months grew warmer fast. I met a girl and another, they loved my pictures, especially the ones I took of them. I went to raves a lot that summer. The music was great, especially in one. I saw her, I thought she did not so I went closer to the DJ stand. Her bun higher than ever, then I saw that she saw me too. She looked me in the eye but not like she did when she said my pictures sucked. This time it was bitter and she wanted me to know before she looked away. Uneventfully. Like two strangers too ashamed to admit that their souls ever touched.

It is fall again, I now know she studies music, so I know to avoid her when she fetches her coffee at late 8 in the morning, sometimes our eyes touch and she smiles or I wave. My SD card got too full, I need to delete the pictures I do not need to clear up space for the wedding shoot I’m doing on Sunday. There’s a one of a girl in a red tank top with imprints of nipples with a piercing and one without, or flaws as she would call it, it’s gorgeous. I click delete.

Desired Destruction

Lips against my hips.
Warm air traveling up the curves of my waist,
Into my pores,
Flooding them
With your sanguine red blood,
A Permanent dye,
Yearning to be a part of my DNA
A single soul morphed into one

Rhythmic like our dances,
Movements, motions,
Mysterious glances,
shooting laser beams of blood
Into my eyes ,
Stirring our flesh in the cauldron
Of darkened passion we hand crafted

Inject your wine into my veins.
Drunken me with your brandy-tainted saliva: –Your Irremovable glue
Tightly stitching you into my flesh

Even separated, we are infused,
Contaminated with the cloudy crystals
Of eachother’s valuable minerals
Deemed undesirable to jewelers,
New to the industry.
Chipped, scratched, aged,
Yet gloriously vivid
To the ones who watched them crumble
As they sat upon the curbside
Too high to move

By Gabriella Roldan

bomigp  asked:

“Who wants my tits?” --Deok

“Me,” he answered before any of the other wolves in the room tried to steal her away- Deokhye was a hot commodity at their gambling halls, and for good reason. She made it a lot easier to win a game, but that wasn’t what he was calling her over for. He thinks she would’ve come over to him whether he requested her help first or not, anyway, the two of them always played favorites when it came to each other. Minseok took one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray on the table. He didn’t normally smoke because he didn’t care that much for the taste, but the menthols weren’t so bad, and today he almost felt driven to it- having woken up with more anxiety than he normally had. “Could you just,” he gestures with his hands, making a smushing motion as he shoots her a pitiful look, “–and put me out of my misery? It’s the ideal way to go out. Suffocated by your breasts. We both know they’re actually weapons of mass destruction.” In the eyes of normal people this might’ve seemed like an unusual request, but he was certain Deokhye had heard it before and this type of conversation wasn’t out of the ordinary for them. “Please.”

Today, I fucked up... by using electricity improperly in the 90's

It was just post-columbine and all of the weird kids were being watched for when we would inevitably snap and wantonly murder every living thing that we had ever been exposed to. When my time came I was in my 8th grade ‘science’ class. This class was taught by an extremely large woman who’s mass was apparently not composed of adipose tissue but rather an all consuming gelatinized paranoia. Like, she got one of my friends a three day suspension for “making gun-shooting motions at 15-45 degree angles on his desk and directing them at the other students.” He was drumming on his desk, he was in marching band and played the snare.

It was nearing the end of the year and we were doing a unit on electricity. Wiring things in series, creating simple motors, playing with capacitors… it was actually pretty fun. And I, in my typical cut-up middle schooler fashion, had taken the liberty of defining all of the vocabulary words in my work books with colorful definitions to be erased later and replaced with proper ones when time came to turn the work in.

Now the FU! Each group of students had a small electricity kit with some wires, lightbulbs, capacitors, 3 d-cell batteries and a battery holder. I (in my infinite wisdom) decided that in the interest of being a mild inconvenience and for the opportunity to bother the teacher I would leave these batteries wired in series when I put them away for the evening thus draining them and requiring new ones tomorrow. So after the wiring was complete I put this weapon of mass destruction back into the kit and satisfied that I had done my part to bother one of the most reviled people in my middle school I went home to watch Toonami.


I arrive at school, go to class. First period morning announcements I noticed my name in the litany of names that were requested to come to the office. I decided that “I ain’t no bitch” and that I wasn’t going to come to the office when they called me and that if it were truly important they would come and get me.

They did!

Second period I was greeted at my next class by a police officer who took me by the wrist and led my happy ass down to the office. This was worrying as I wracked my brain for any reason I could have fucked up this badly. Maybe someone had died? I hadn’t done anything that my groggy 13 year old mind could recall that was bad enough to bring down this amount of heat.

The officer led me straight into the principal’s office where I found the eponymous principal, my science teacher and my father who was giving me a look which I eventually became well-familiar with that said: ‘how the hell do you even do this?” These three were already engaged in a heated debate over the explosive capacity of three D-cells wired in series when my science teacher decided to drop the bombshell: I left the batteries near a bottle of hand sanitizer. Yeah, motherfucking Purel™ bomb technology was at hand and she was first on the hit list.

I did not laugh. My father did not laugh. He did however try to impress upon them that the amount of water in the Purel™ and the amount of heat that three D-Cell batteries in a box nearby could generate did not equal a high powered explosive device for a targeted assassination. Then my Science teacher made her master stroke. She pulled out my work book and looked my principal dead in the eye saying “Well, I think he was smart enough to do this and had REASON enough to do this. Here I have Fidoburger’s workbook where they are supposed to define their vocabulary words for the electricity unit. And here, “ she opens my workbook to the page she had BOOKMARKED, “where it says ’transistor’ he’s written ‘yo mama’ and I don’t know about you but I find that offensive.”

I collapsed. It was too funny. I laughed all the way to alternative school. I laughed when I got expelled from middle school for making a bomb. I laughed when I moved halfway across the country that summer (unrelated) and got to personally throw all documentation of this event away when we transferred my records to my new school system.

by  fidoburger

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