Author Archives: joe bielawa

I’m back in the Coachella Valley. Road tripping around So.CA. Currently in El Centro sitting in the local corporate coffee franchise swilling a mocha while the friend I am visiting still slumbers.

I haven’t blogged in months and am doing so via my iPhone.

As is the reoccurring mindset of when I return to this valley and surrounding areas, my past stares back at me and although it doesn’t control my life, it has a certain influence.

There is a undeniable pull to my spirit to return to this area permanently. It will just be a matter of time.

“Life is one big road with lots of signs,
So when you riding through the ruts, don’t you complicate your mind:
Flee from hate, mischief and jealousy!
Don’t bury your thoughts; put your dream to reality, yeah!”

UGH! I’ve been riding thru the ruts as of late…no, as of  for a while. Keep putting on me best face, to hide me angst to the populace. .  I stray from hate…it’s an emotion I won’t feed into. I don’t have the energy for much mischief…the jealousy and envy creeps in, but I don’t let it run riot.

Crossroads are on the horizon. I feel a sense of incredible change, although uncertain. I have outgrown my current situation. I am restless. I want the change to happen NOW!  But I must still bide my time as the unforseen becomes revealed and is clearer. There is some apprehension, yet more so, excitement.

“Rise ye mighty people, ye-ah!
There’s work to be done,
So let’s do it-a little by little:
Rise from your sleepless slumber! Yes, yeah! Yes, yeah!
We’re more than sand on the seashore,
We’re more than numbers.
All together now:
Wake up and live now, y’all!”

Lyrics from Wake Up and LIVE! – Bob Marley

Saturday May 17, 2014, I saw Sixto Rodriquez perform at the State Theatre in Minneapolis. I was introduced to Rodriquez’s music like most people have been in the last two years, through the Academy Award winning 2012 documentary “Searching for Sugarman” The story is just incredible and I encourage all to see this movie.

Rodriquez certainly looked frail as he was lead onto the stage, but once he began to play his guitar and sing, the 71 year old sounded on top of his game. His “picking” style was one I had never seen before. It was a combination of single finger strumming and multiple finger-plucking that gave the guitar a 12 string sound. His voice was as velvety smooth as it sounded on his 1970 release Cold Fact.

A self-described “political-musical activist” his songs all carried some message of inspiration, political observation or life lesson.

Occasionally between songs he would deliver some quick simple philosophy.

After the song about a drug-dealer “Searching for Sugarman” he quipped “This is a song about description, not prescription. Get your hugs and stay off drugs” I let out a loud WOOOO! Still, I wonder what was those three cups he nursed throughout the show, placing one into the other as he finished it.

It was such an incredible experience to see him perform and to feel the power of his presence.

Ten years ago tonight, I wrapped my glass meth pipe in a towel, smashed it with a hammer,threw it in the trash, flushed what shards were left in the bindle down the toilet and began to live a life without crystal meth.

There were tough times at the beginning. The lessons that tested my clean time and my recovery were ones that I could never have imagined. But as the days pased into weeks, the weeks into months, day by day…it became easier.

What I have learned, what changes I have made and what ground I have gained is beyond amazement. And there is still room to grow.

NA’s only promise is that if we work a program of recovery, the obsession to use drugs will be lifted. I have found this to be true. I know if I continue to seek some sort of spirituality, this obsession will continue to be lifted.

Although at times I still feel as if I am a stranger in a strange land, I at least feel comfortable in my own skin with this awkwardness.

I am back in Palm Springs CA taking a break from my corporate existence in Minneapolis, where currently it is 20 degrees with a winter storm dumping 4-6 inches of new snow.

21 years ago, I was being released from Riverside County, Palm Springs Jail after being arrested for my first DUI.

It is always somewhat surreal to return to this city and this valley, for it holds a magnitude of my history, both good and bad.

I was told when I first moved here in 1990, that this valley is “a vortex and it could either lift you up or take you down.” It did a little of both, but at the time my energy was one of self-destruction, the latter was more significant.

The first couple times I returned here in the late 1990’s, I was getting high by the time I left the airport, which from the terminal out onto the street leaving the airport is maybe 150 yards.

I clearly remember the first time I was here and stayed clean, the energy was over-whelming! And to this day, it is that energy of being drug-free here, that positive side of the energy vortex, that fills me with such gratitude and clarity. It is this energy that keeps me returning here for an ongoing spiritual renewal.

There is some sort of “magic” that is unique to this geographic location. I have always felt it; it just has taken on a different intensity as time goes on.

I, like many others, have a thinking problem and it is rooted in denial. This ill thinking manifested itself through my addiction with the use of alcohol and drugs.

Altough everyones denial is different, it is such a cunning, baffling and powerful mindset as it reinforces that everything’s ok when its not and misleads us into a habit of thinking that robs lives…some quickly, others slowly.

With the death of Phillip Seymour Hoffman, social media erupts with comments about the evils of drugs, and the glorification of the celebrity. Although the drugs contributed to his death it was his denial that killed him. If someone acknowledged the reality that the dose they were about to take would kill them, would they do it?

Alcohol is just another drug.  Addicts with a needle may kill themselves, but a drunk with a car will cause more harm to others…and usually lives to drink again. 

The first time I took a hit of meth, I drew a hard hit and held it in, as I did with my weed, so I could get a nice dosage into my blood stream to carry to my brain. The guy I was getting high with hit me on the back, causing me to cough out the smoke, then said to me: This isn’t weed, dude. You can’t hold it in, it will crystallize in your lungs and you will suffocate.  By this time the rush began to surge through my brain and I wanted another hit.

And about that “rush.” It’s not the drug, it’s the feeling at that split second that all is well and whatever is your denial is, at that moment is non-existent.

For some this rush comes quickly in a split second as the needle is pulled from the vein, for others a little slower as smoke fills the lungs; or as the pill or drink absorbs through the stomach. The only difference is the delivery method of the substance into the bloodstream onto the brain.

In the beginning my time using was filled with much fun…but from my first drink, it made me feel comfortable in my own skin. It was just as time went on, the dosage needed to be greater to quiet the denial. Towards the end of my use, I would fall to the floor into convulsions. I would always be so freaked out when this happened, thinking: “death is here” A cigarette would be “needed” to clam my nerves.  For the years the drugs and alcohol really weren’t working, but I kept using, thinking that something would be different this next time. Once I reached the point where the intoxicants would not ease the pain of my denial, I was faced with the only option I hadn’t tried to deal with my denial: face it.

Stints in rehab, 12 steps, meetings and therapy, living clean and sober things get better; it’s about progress, not perfection.

Just recently I experienced an emotional relapse…I turned back to one I used as an emotional crutch, thinking that things would be different this time.  However, the dysfunction we shared then is still strong today.  The worst part of all this is how the two of us fell into our old roles of the dysfunction we once played. So I get a chance to learn… to let go and move forward.

 It’s unfortunate when addicts succumb to death at the result of their own ill thinking without learning a new way to live. When that person is a celebrity, it’s sometimes over-looked that they are just another person suffering from mental illness.

Instead of glorifying the dead to RIP, maybe it’s time to throw some energy out into the universe that the ones still suffering receive some grace to face their demons and learn a new way to live.

Last night I was granted clearance to photograph Florida Georgia Line and Jason Aldean at Xcel Center in St. Paul MN. I am not really a country music fan, but I am still shooting under the moniker of TownSquare Media, so I requested to be in the house for them.
This was my first shoot since my ankle injury 16 weeks ago.

With three days left in 2013, I was fortunate to be presented with an opportunity to purchase a variety of Nikon lenses which will facilitate me going after more gigs, for now I have the confidence of equipment ownership. It’s makes having to rent lenses no longer a need.

Even though I have used these lenses before, it was rather fun to go to the new equipment case and look over eight different lenses and decide “What I should shoot with tonight”

Since I knew I would be shooting from the sound board, I choose the 70-200mm f2.8 with a 2x convertor and the 24-70mm f2.8.

It was a difficult shoot. Florida Georgia Line used alot of intense back lighting, which looked good from a distance, but was a bitch to shoot up close. I had a photographer on each side of me from major publications and one was yelling the obscenities I was thinking.

I was able to create, but it was a challenge.

The full set can be view here:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/joebielawa/sets/72157639905181523/ 

Jason Aldean’s lighting was alittle more conducive to shooting, but he was still yards away, it’s difficult to get in close.

I am excited by the prospect of having these lenses. They will give me far more accessibility to create even more imagery than I was capable of in the past, and with the events that are on my calendar, it will be an exciting prospect at that.

Fifteen weeks since the ankle break, 14.5 weeks since the surgery to repair the break, and I am back full-time in my employment role starting today.

I met with the surgeon last week and she is still amazed at my progress.  I have been experiencing some discomfort on the inside of my ankle opposite where the pins and plate were placed to repair the break.  When I described my concern to her, she indicated that it was a stressed Posterior Tibial Tendon, which is common with runners from over activity. She said: “Dude! When most of my patients are just starting to walk with out crutch or cane assistance at 14 weeks post surgery, you are suffering a runner’s injury. Dial it back a little”

Can you image?!? An addict in recovery obsessing?  So I am trying to take it easy.

It is great to be back at the gym and working out. I am just starting with what was once my normal routine, yet still not at the level I once was. I am exercising my right leg more than the left as I rebuild the muscle that has atrophied. But it is returning, gradually. Exercise and movement are my anti-depressants, and its no wonder I was riding through a rough for the eight weeks post surgery, as I was immobile for the first stage of the healing.

Since there is a risk, there is no winter biking riding, nor will there be until spring….unless I travel to a warm climate for a bike ride.

Which brings me to my lack of writing.  Consumed with a certain darkness, I just didn’t feel complied to write.

A page turns, a calendar flips and it’s all about renewal. Ya. Ok. whatever.  I’m not one for resolutions.

There are things on the horizon that have me excited. And I will keep my momentum going forward with hope that these events will come into fruition.

Three weeks since I started walking feebly on crutches, and I now walk with a slight limp and the use of a cane. Each day, then until now, there has been discomfort as I reclaim the mobility of my ankle and foot as the scar tissue breaks up from the wound and the surgery. Each day the mobility gets greater. I have returned to the gym for spin classes the last two weeks, although all I did was just a slow pedal, reconfiguring my range of motion.

This week I returned to work full time with my corporate gig. Which has been nice. At the beginning of the week, I slowly made my way up and down single flights of stairs. I was slower and far shakier on the downward flights. In just a few of days, my strength, confidence  and endurance have returned.

I was amazed as to how quickly my thigh and calf muscles atrophied. My trainer and doctor assured me that they would grow back quickly. I am COMPLETELY amazed as to how fast that actually has happened.

It has been a whole reconditioning of mind and body to work on walking with gait, getting my confidence of my stride.

I am back mixing up my workout supplement drinks, but adjusting the recipes to cater more to the muscle growth.

The last few weeks, I have been suffering some major situational depression. I could feel it, but just kind of “ran with it.” bitchy, irritable, cranky…more than my usual.  I wasn’t sleeping well. A slight loss of appetite. And was consumed with a certain darkness.

Returning to a somewhat “normal” schedule has been helping my outlook. By moving and walking, even though miles less than what was my average before the injury, I am getting  a better attitude. I am extremely tired at the end of the day and am sleeping mostly through the night. My appetite is returning. There is still the gnawing crankiness, but it it’s diminishing.

The difficult thing is for me to remember to keep take it slow. But I am learning. I am grateful to have the background in physical fitness that I do. This is just another work out routine, and I feel my self getting stronger and improving, reaching a new goal that was once a standard.

Hard to believe that the injury occurred 8.5 weeks ago. I am slowly getting back to where I once was…day at a time.

Yesterday I met with the othro surgeon who applied a plate and six screws to repair my broken fibula six weeks ago.  My healing is advancing nicely and I was given the okie-dokie to start to walk on the foot. There will be no physical therapy..I am to just start to walk with the boot at first, then start wearing shoes and walk. Walking as my therapy. I couldn’t be happier!

Meeting with HR at the corporate existence, I have slated my return into that environment for 11/25. After spending some time visiting with some of my friends/coworkers, I walked to the bus stop to catch a bus home…and then, as is my usual mind set waiting for a bus, I though FUCK THIS and walked the 1.3 miles home. I haven’t done that in months and it was so enjoyable. I took a couple of images with the iPhone that turned out nicely. To be able to move my right leg in a full range of motion and to stand upright and walk without leaning fully on crutches was just the greatest feeling. Once home on the couch my leg muscles were sore, but it was the good workout sore feeling I love so.

So this morning, I put on shoes and gingerly walked out to my car to drive to the grocery store to purchase some much needed probiotics, amongst other things. Out on the street I saw one of my neighbors and she exclaimed ” You don’t have your boot on and you’re walking!!!” I smiled and said “yes, I was given the ok to walk and I am heading to the store.” ” Oh! A BIG DAY OUT for you ! ” I laughed,  Yep!!

Although my mind wants to walk all over town, I know I have to take this in small steps (HA!) and take it gradually, ease back into a life of just a average mobility. There is an excitement building inside that knows skating and biking will soon be activities that are my norm.