Turns out being back on Netflix isn’t so bad at all.
Cyberpunk: Edgerunners was so fucking great and true to the Cyberpunk genre, which isn’t about winning. It’s about the will to fight against an impossible enemy, to scrape the smallest moments of happiness to the bone and suck out the marrow. There was never going to be a happy ending, but they fought as if it was possible. That’s Punk as Fuck!
My sister found an apartment in Coogee Beach and suggested that I go check it out to see if I can get a feel for living in a much smaller space.
Mum and I checked it out yesterday, location wise it’s perfect and as close to the beach as my house is to Maroubra Beach. Visually from the outside the apartments look amazing. Concrete and glass and no massive high rise, just 10 in the block. The apartment going for auction was on the bottom floor, and so whilst there’s no water views, it does get a patio and side patio too.
Inside we both thought the apartment was pretty small and tight, but it’s super new and modern and has a tonne of natural light. The master bedroom was super small. Knocking out a wall to the next bedroom would fix that, but strata is pretty difficult apparently when it comes to apartments and modifications.
I actually think the apartment is so damn close to what I’m looking for, but they’re asking too much for it. All in all it just felt good to get the ball rolling on selling up my house and downsizing.
It always sux to be rejected.
I’ve never been too interested in starting an OnlyFans (OF) account, mainly because OF is more related to pornography than art. Despite having more relaxed rules around nudity and potentially making a lot more money on OF than Patreon, I prefer having a smaller number of more loyal and respectful patrons at a higher price vs. the idea of selling my work at a much lower price, but having more trolls that could cause me more trouble down the line (like stealing my images and re-uploading to OnlyLeaks style web sites).
I had a few people suggest that I start an OF account. I figure I’d get the process going. I created an account, but quite soon into the process I got an email to say that not only has my account been rejected, it’s also been completely disabled! According to their Terms, they do not allow accounts set up on behalf of photographers. The account holder personally has to participate in more than 50% of all profile content.
Ultimately I’ve got to get my Patreon unsuspended. 3rd day in now without a reply. Fingers crossed they get back to me soon.
It comes in waves.
Today I got an email from Patreon to say that I’m in violation of their Community Guidelines.
Patreon does not allow pornography, which is defined in our guidelines as real people engaged in sexual acts such as intercourse or masturbation. This definition includes genital play, signs of arousal, or play with sex toys and the like.
Additionally, spreading or otherwise emphasizing genitals in a sexual way such as focus or cropping of the image falls under pornographic material and is outside of guidelines.
For the record I DO NOT create any photos depicting intercourse, penetration or masturbation, but I have shot more erotic photos for models who have OnlyFans accounts (genitals in focus), and I have posted these images to Patreon. So, once again, it’s their platform, their rules and ultimately I have to be OK with that!
I’m now making the moves to delete the offending images off my Patreon in order to get it reviewed and back online (if possible). Going forwards I’ll have to decide whether I want to create an OnlyFans account, or just not shoot more graphic content at all.
PS: I’ve had a few people private message me to suggest that perhaps there’s a hater out there that’s reporting me. Whilst this could be true, I’m not about to get paranoid about it and potentially lose my shit over it, because end of the day I’ve broken both Instagram and Patreon’s rules.
About a week ago I found a web site “scraping” content from my Patreon and uploading it to their website. Being copied has always been a part of being a creative and I’ve always learned to let it be as opposed to putting in the shitload of energy it takes to take the culprits down, but for some reason, last week I decided to send this website a legal DMCA Takedown.
My gut tells me that these trolls are the reason as to why Patreon has reviewed my account, but I can’t prove this, so again, rules are rules. I broke them. Fair call! There’s no one to blame but myself and I’m 100% OK with that.
Another awesome IRL meetup! This time with Heazy, the leader of the Diablo Immortal clan I’m in.
This morning I rant about getting banned from Instagram, and also making moves to sell my house!
Their platform, their rules. Promise to keep it clean this time! https://instagram.com/justinfoxphotos/
What do you sound like when you speak?
In 2018 I found myself smoking an ounce of weed a week. I didn’t talk to friends. I was comatose. I didn’t sleep in my bed. I had a scab on the right side of my head that I picked off every day. I didn’t shower. I collected big piles of dandruff and dead skin. I urinated in empty soft drink bottles because I was too lazy to walk to my own bathroom.
I hit rock bottom.
I couldn’t find a reason to live.
I was over it.
Despite protest, my Mum took me into the doctors (which ultimately saved my life). I was diagnosed with bipolar 1 disorder and prescribed antidepressants. I’ve always been more of a “rehab is for quitters!” kinda guy. I believed that people who were dependent on antidepressants were weak.
I was scared of my Dad as a kid. He was a large, proud and strong Buddhist man. But I saw a transformation in him when I was 18. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer and as it ate him alive he grew weaker and I took that weakness in a bad light.
In his dying days some random priests at the hospital pressured him into converting to Christianity in order to secure his entry into heaven. He gave up his fight with cancer, he became a Christian and then he passed.
I was disappointed in him for giving up.
When he died I decided to inherit his strength and I vowed never to be weak. I gave myself a deadline. Dad passed away at 47, so in my mind I had until 47 to do absolutely everything I wanted to do in life. I was hungry. I was obsessed. I’ve been there. I’ve done that and then some. I’m now 47 and I believe that this self imposed deadline drove me to make all the marks I’ve made to date, but it was only a few years ago that I learned the hard reality of not being able to choose when it all ends.
The meds helped me to avoid hitting low-lows, but they also stopped me from reaching high-highs.
I was in the middle.
I was numb.
Flatline.
Everything I had ever done of any worth in life had come from meeting the deadline and living through the death of my father, so getting off the meds became a priority and I’m happy to say that I’ve been clean for over 3 years now.
I’ve chosen to make peace with periodically losing my shit. I value the emotional connection I feel when I remember, somewhat romantically, my previous lows. I use my low-lows to create art.
I am an Artist.
If bipolar is about having inflated self-esteem or grandiosity, or being more talkative than usual, or distractibility and an excessive involvement in activities that have high potential for painful consequences, then bring it! I choose to embrace these traits of my mental illness.
So to answer the question; what do I sound like when I speak?
Well, it depends which me you’re speaking to!
What a downer.
I’ve had an image deleted daily for the past week on Instagram (for going against their community guidelines). It’s their platform, their rules. I totally understand this, and just because others on the platform get away with it doesn’t make it right, but it still hurts.
Instagram is a great way for me to meet new models to shoot, so losing that network might become an issue going forwards. For now I’ll sit tight, and see if my account does get permanently disabled. If it does I’ll have to figure some stuff out!
PS: Last night I had a dream where I’d forgotten to take the bins out the night before. I woke up to the sound of the garbage truck close by (I’ve been here before IRL!). I got up quickly to take the bins out before the truck got to my house, but for some reason my bins were next door, so I jumped the fence to get them but my next door neighbour saw me in the process. Thinking that my neighbour was going to be mad about me trespassing onto their property, he pulled me aside and asked “just what gives you the right to post nude photos on Instagram?!”. I thought about explaining my work, but thought it would be useless, so I decided not to. I asked instead if he was the one reporting my posts and his wife came into the room, smirking and nodding “yes, oh yes we’ve been reporting!”.
