MySpacea place for friends

If you are interested in a photo session visit my Website at Yahoo to see more or call me, my contact info is on my site!!!!

www.redongray.com

Want to see pics of me? Click on "view my pics" and you will find a folder of a session with me in it. My personal photographer is my dear and talented friend whom without I would not have had the inspiration to start doing anything with my work... Lorrie Webb from Gordonsville.

THE SHOT

If you want to see all of my photo's or new stuff I might not have here, you can click on this link VH1 The Shot or the thumbnail's below to go to my profile on The Shot Spot and see my photography.

www.theshotspot.com/profile/view/1644

I'm working on getting my website up also so that clients can preview and request prints by viewing slideshows of their sessions sort of like below but not exactly. So keep looking for updates at:

www.redongray.com

Red On Gray

I am happy to be here with you. Here in this place where I am all alone. Poisoning my mind,
you, peculiar memory that seems to linger as a disease that has no cure.
I cut my wrists today, just to see the color red and taste the bittersweet essence of life upon my tongue. A beautiful dark shade against all of this gray and nothingness. Sitting there watching the splatters on the ground create a beautiful work of art. At first in vibrant glossy color and then eventually drying to dark almost black in this darkness as I lingered there watching, unable to move my eyes from it.
I reached out to feel it upon my fingertips as if to prove to myself it does actually exist. I felt the crust of it's dryness and in saddens I withdrew my touch.

Gray

Tumble I forward, spiraling in that fall of all falls into oblivion... the unknown nothingness in which I have been and will be suffered to endure my unawareness.
How insane is it to be so aware of one's unawares? I do not know, nor do I care,,, I simply fall...
Deep deep down to be swallowed up by the requiem of my darkened oblivion... lost.. simply lost...
Red,,, with all that deep dripping scent of my understanding. Dark indeed is the color of my intentions. Spread steadily upon the ground in a hastened display of a pathetic attempt to be seen, to be noticed, to be wanted... found... saved.
Curling my fingers around the silver links of my salvation knowing they will be pryed yet again from my longing clutch. Drifting away from me that scent of my obsession possess me with maddness and I fade into... gray.

Bloody Release

I didn't want to bring you here, deep into that dark epiphany of my psychosis, tangled in the chaos of my reasoning, but here you are, and I have yet to discover the intention of your presence here.I feel the wires of my sanity tightly weaving around my nakedness, housing that most sensitive of sensual spots. Tighter and tighter the wire becomes, cutting into my flesh, releasing the blood that begs even more for your torture. And all that fills my mind is the thought of "more".So here I hang in nothingness, tightly suspended within myself, knowing that I would have it no other way...Silently begging for you to relieve me.Suddenly I feel that breath taking release as the blood covered metal spreads, revealing that dark place that I've reluctantly hid from you.And you are now a part of me.Soft yet hard, as your rythym rushes my senses, a rythym that sends me my death,,, death only better... And I feel that last bit of me that was real fade away. And it is forgotten... Thrust upon thrust, steadily dancing in my suspension, I feel very much connected to your darkness. Finally as I feel every molecule of your existence tighten in that passionate release, filling me with your vitality,,, I am reborn. And I know now why I love you.

Awake

To fly between this breeze and that echo,
See the white of that glistening light.
I know that forever waits in that chamber made of my solitary confinement,,, and so it shall have to wait a bit longer still.
I take that walk once again as it seems I'm stumbling upon another premonition of coexistence. Flattered with diamond and white gold upon the finger of premeditated theoretics and all the while that tune that deafens me into retreat to scurry back into that stubborn stupor of awake plays monotonously in it's silent repetition.
Becoming more and more obsessed with something that I have no comprehension of, yet I allow myself to be lost in it for the love of the insanity of it all. Just to let go and not worry about the consequences of my inhibitions for a change, would, be an idea that entertains me through the night until I see you once more.
Shuffling through the covers in a panicked frustrated attempt to recreate the sex scented night before, when your sweat and wet kisses covered the insides of my darkest fantasies. Lapping up every drop of my existence in an attempt to free me for the moment that you need me to be free upon you.
And there you are again, thrusting atop me in a sensual needing beckon that I need so much more to be forced upon me, and why you don't just take it, I am uncertain, but I love the thought of it anyway. I'm almost mad in the pleasure yet I feel the longing for aggression that you seem almost scared to impose upon me.
Falling,,, I feel myself drop, only this time to fall upon a coffin bed of satin and rose petals. I look up from the ground to see the rectangle outline of an overcast sky, the cold winter air hardening my skin, and I feel the shadow of the sarcoughagus top shut above me sealing me in to safety away from everything.
Your arms around me as we lie in solitude of the earthy chamber,,, I sleep.... a thousand years it seems I sleep and dream of waking in a new morning full of your love and discovery. I dream until you wake me again.

Fading

A little more each day,
Slowly withering into nothingness,
Buried further into the shadows
Of that lost side of my brain.
Darker shades of gray,
With it's monochrome emptiness,
Screaming red echoes
To be released from the vein.
Silent is the drop
That shakes all existence,
And sharp the bite,
That took the last breath,
And finally it stops
With no more resistance,
To fade into night
And into death.

I Laugh

I laughed,,,
The louder the music played the more I laughed.
Swinging around in the melancholy of the moon lights enchantment,,,
I cried,,,
I cried the tear that fell a thousand times, pooling in the puddle of our existence. Feeling the gentle stroke of his hand wipe away that sadness in an instance...
... and I smiled...
Coddled in a blanket of everything and nothing, made only of significance that cannot be possessed nor gifted.
Sprinkled with stars and covered with midnights thickness. Watching the morning be born as it has through out all eternity, but never as it had for us.
and I died,,,,
Falling away from what use to be me yet again for what seems like my only destiny. All the while searching back for the sound of that rythym in silence and hearing only the ironic quiet of a blanketed memory...
... and I laughed....

Another Dead Angel

It seems like forever, trapped inside this horrid misplaced eternity. Steadily shrinking into that dark hole of mediocrocy, I already know I'm nothing special, nothing to be remembered.

"Here Lies Another Dead Angel"

Something generalized to save from the embarrassment of leaving an unmarked rock in the midst of memorable markers. Listening to the footsteps trudge across the dampened grass above as they scurry to continue on with the same inconceivably predestined meeting with eternity that I have experienced.
What was I, that I deserved such an insignificant existence? Why was I, if it mattered to no one but myself? Struggling to live up to that organized superficial phasod, that someone with such an average unmistakably futile attempt at beauty, could never live up to.
It's almost like being a weed in a rose garden, eventually the gardener will find you and pluck you out so that you don't take away from the beauty of the landscape, when all you wanted was to perhaps mask the fact that you're just a weed by merely coexisting with even the scent of beauty. And in all the world of seemingly understanding sympathizers, with their tales of lonesome wanderings, who seem to share the same feelings of misplacement and abandon... I am still alone. And so are they.
Which also brings to mind the questions that turns in my brain like a spinning wheel, turning over and over, yet spinning out nothing but the same thread in a constant search for the end,,, who am I? And why am I here if I mean nothing to anyone but myself? There's supposed to be more,,,
... isn't there?

.. Robert Ritchie, Anne Rice, Pamela Anderson, Erik from Florez, Others near me. A friend.