MY KINGDOM NORTH

Let me bring you into the world I have newly entered or rather thrown myself into.
For years Notes From The Dark Side have been about my adventures/misadventures all the while living in Los Angeles, New York City, small town Connecticut. The West Coast of Norway is where I currently reside and what a place it is.
This BLOG isn't terribly old so if you can imagine the rapid changes in my life, the innumerable months, days and years, I can barely keep up with my own thoughts ergo the anxiety of succinctly sharing my thoughts as well experiences has been daunting.

As per request my readers would like to have an insight into the personal remodeling of my life at this time.
It often crosses my mind what would I think if I read all of my own stories, rants and anecdotes through another persons consciousness. I often experience anxiety reading them back to myself.

Have you met anyone that wanted to view the world through your eyes? Even for a moment?
So often I put myself out there into the Universe and receive positive reviews, affirmations and conscious raising encouragement. Validation that my exemplary service to those who read for whichever reason they choose. With this being said, I shall bring to you stories of my journey through the Kingdom North, Norge.
For those of you who are newly coming into my personal microcosm, I can give you this insight:
This is Notes From the Dark Side, it may be conveyed as morose, depressive, disheartening or illumination , you decide.

Join me.....
 
Traveling to a Nordic country is a humbling experience for me as I am constantly comparing/contrasting and often with the feelings of utter crotchetiness. There is a laundry list of differences and for those seasoned in traveling to distant lands it may not be such a surprise, what I am about to divulge that is.

Being in a Christian country (forget about the recent separation from church and State - scoffs) it has its deep routes and those effect children, teens and adults in ways they don't even make connection to, it's simply extrapolated. This moves into a territory ill discuss another time but it has something to do with everything being shut down on Sundays, additionally purchasing wine/liquor from a Government sanction.... for a start.

So you're shit-faced after a night at the Rock N' Roll bar and its 4:30am. Time to hail a cab waiting just steps from the corner and you decide to strut into the Bodega to get a fresh veggi sandwich made by your favorite counter dude named Jose' whom you swear you would kiss because he knows exactly what you want every time you walk in the door, no matter the condition you are in. If you look extra cute Jose tosses in a bag of chips to top off the samich'.
A quick journey over the bridge or boulevard depending on which city you're in. BOOM! You are home and with money still in your pocket, (thank you Bartender for all the buy backs) armed with chips & an avocado/veg samich'.
Reality check: That was NYC. That was Hollywood.

So you're tipsy after a night at the Rock N' Roll bar and it's 1:15am. time to hail a taxi (Mercedes) and if you're lucky there sits one a several blocks away (Fhew! I didn't wear heels!)
There isn't a place to get a snack, nothing in sight although ive heard of these rogue Kebab stands (what wonders that does for a Veggi/Vegan) A long journey on the 'midnight' bus that costs quadruple that of a regular bus, should you choose this option depending on how much money you have pissed away in a few short hours (literally pissed) You stare at your iPhone bus app praying transport comes for you quickly......
 if you can read it correctly. SHIT! No bus after 12:30am.
Reality check: Cities of Norway.

 ''Fun'' is a relative term. What I consider fun is often writing what comes to mind while listening to some Medieval  Renaissance music with a glass of wine in tow. Often I consider sitting alone in a library amongst thousands of books in another language I can barely read.... fun. Listening to Vincent Price's rare audio catalog of  'Tales of Witchcraft' or his audio Edgar Allen Poe stories is fun.
Being alone is fun.

Being from New York City (my prime adult years) has gifted me with the ability to endure and flourish in chaos. When the atmosphere around you flows in some unhesitating order, albeit chaotic and slightly dangerous you develop supreme living skills. I find calmliness in disparagement.

Living in Hollywood (my innovational years) has brought me a knowledge of the human habitude (indigenous to LA or transplantdom.) As a professional Artist and Artist Manager it is clutch to inhabit the skills of a well-read social chameleon. ZING!!! I can employ such skills anywhere. Perhaps.

I have decided to Come to Norway, the King of the Scandinavian countries for several reasons.

-I almost died of Heart failure in 2012 and watched months wash away not forgetting my savings. Boo Hoo.
-A change of atmosphere (climate, barometric pressure, etc.) might be good for a gal who has had 3 surgeries (and counting) inside her face.
-Growing tired of the Hollywood Rock Stars who always stole my best black eyeliner and unsolicitly gifted me with sluttish 'clothes' to squire me about the Walk of Fame on a hot Friday night. [see above] imagine the deep connection there.
-A desperate need to collaborate with other creatives who live on the very same page as I do, the page that is often overlooked.
-The myth of the Viking culture is very well alive if you know where to look. Excellent for any super dork like myself.
- Did I mention that the most beautiful men reside here?


 OH! I am also shooting/writing a book of the underground/social Norwegian Black Metal culture.
 

I could write for days on this subject.
Keleigh Black in the Great Kingdom North.

I will continue to do so.

THE UNFOLDING

On this day exactly one year ago I collapsed at home, alone and somewhat frightened.
This little show had landed me a few blocks from home in the Beverly Hills, Cedar Sinai Hospital, I had my very own room for 5 days in the fancy Cardiac Ward no less (A frightful bill in which I have yet to open.) 
I had just lost an immediate family member that week as well the opportunity to attend the services.  I made that one faithful call and my travel shy Mother collected me in the hospital after re-routing her flight from the funeral. She stayed beside me for several nights and even cut my food once I was cleared for 'solids'.
and believe me I have silly photos for everything.

On this day 365 days later I sit staring out my window in the country, thousands of miles from Beverly Hills and its raining, thundering and the lightening is hammering down with purpose. Its always funny when you ask the Universe for infinite wisdom ..... or a just a little sign to affirm your private inquiries (those who you dare not share with others.) We went from crystal clear skies to fleeting torrential power, my inquires affirmed. 
I ponder what I have done in the past 365 days and I am sure I have gained some momentum along the way.
Could I have been more productive? Was it necessary to cast off handfuls of people I once had on my team?  Have I changed or influenced anybodies lives and most importantly has anyone changed mine....
Now these not so little things swirl over your head like a goddamn mini vortex and if you can become still enough in the right place.... answers come to you.

Three hundred and fifty days come to pass and I loose my Father. Three hundred and fifty plus days and I loose my Uncle. Three hundred and sixty days have arrived and I loose a friend.

I often wonder if my daily thoughts, emotional energy and intention were to be calculated and contained into a material object what would be the result. Atomic Bomb?
I often daydream about my thoughts, emotional energy, and intentions, I believe the physical manifestation might solve the little issue on world peace. I personally would like to materialize a mystical Unicorn.

I imagine myself with an old woven basket and I am collecting one thing for each day of my three hundred and sixty five day journey. I would certainly find apprehension looking on the bottom of the basket, also into the middle and I am unsure what is on the top because in reality I cannot tell one from the other.
365 days is just over 360 degrees so what has come to pass? What has come to fruition? Now I stand in the same place emotionally as I had this day last year.
I do not face the dangers I had then. I do not face the unknown as I have. I do not foresee the future as I hadn't then. 

In 365 days I had been seen by 17 medical professionals. In 365 days I have had over 60 medical tests completed. In 365 days I have accumulated a 6 figure number worth of superfluous medical bills.

At the end of the 365 days I have triumphed over and unraveled the riddle to my Heart.
At the end of the 365 days I have acquired more knowledge than the last year, throw in the one before that too. Here I sit planning the 1st day of the next three hundred and sixty four days.


Ehhh its just numbers.




What do you have in your basket?

LORDOSIS - BOW TO ME

ALL HAIL TO THE MIGHTY CERVICAL SPINE
THE ANATOMY OF OTHER MAMMALS IS INFERIOR
YOUR EXCESSIVE LORDOTIC CURVATURE IS ALSO 
CALLED HYPERLORDOSIS HOLLOW AND IS ..... HALLOW..
BOW TO ME..... BOW TO ME! 
LORDOSIS!
LORDOSIS!


(SHOULD BE A SONG NO?)

Years back I had the pleasure of working with one of my favorite Norwegian Black Metal bands SATYRICON.  It is always a big ol' bitch working with someone/thing you love/admire because of the added pressure to churn out something incredible that you love.  
Ill never forget that evening... I had an assistant with me who ive known for a decade plus who was keeping me and my equipment safe from the opening band of thrashers as it were. If I remember correctly, I was standing 20 feet away (minimally) from opening bands and getting slammed against.
The first and only time Ive worked in this venue, total disappointment mind you.... then again at the time I would have travel to the conflagrant depths of HELL to work with SATYRICON (now simply flying to the Mother North does the trick).

I was brought into this to capture live guitar and live singer with zero chance of stage shooting due to stage production/props [this is where I no longer work OFF STAGE or with very RARE exception] ...... (this is where I add the part about ''ITS FUCKING SATYRICON AND I WOULD BATTLE A SEA OF 4 HEADED SEA DRAGONS FROM THE MURKY DEPTHS OF SEA-HELL TO SHOOT THEM BACK THEN... AND NOW'')

Epic intro... bands starts.... HELL breaks loose.... Professional Photographer Keleigh Black gets killer shots of of of her favorite bands in for guitar company in.... 
*An action packed play by play:
MY TRIPLE' OF JACK DANIELS SPILLS EVERYWHERE::::: NOOOOOO!!!:::::I TURN LOOKING FOR 'ASSISTANT' (HOLDING GEAR OVER HEAD)::: I FEEL A LEAD-LIKE  KICK TO BACK OF THE HEAD/NECK:::: PUKED JACK DANIELS ON SELF::: MORE PHOTOS:::*FIST PUMP*::::PHOTOS::::PUKE:::::*HEADBANG*::::::PUKE:::::DONE!

Here comes the guitarist of KORN and girl friend to say hello (almost puked) ''gotta go dude!''
Here comes legendary photographer Dean Karr (who I was bringing home?) ''gotta go!''
"OMFG I am going to DIE Brian (Assistant)!"

This story takes us to the Emergency room in Beverly Hills the following day after puking up green BILE all night (not the amazing Industrial band of ex fiance) I thought it was from rocking my ass off and drinking all night??? Wrong..... wrong.

Forward several years past a major Sinus/Nose surgery and Heart failure/treatments (current)
I am dealing with serious neurological issues that started in my early twenties..... in the early years of my photography (pre above mentioned show).

After countless Xrays/MRI's/CTScans/blood work and physical therapy (ongoing) with at home traction therapy (lovely torture device that pulls my head away from my spine daily) I have a totally FUCKED UP CERVICAL SPINE.  

Therapists, Neurologist, Internist, Radiologists all asking me the same thing, ''when did you have a head and neck accident?''... "I did not EVER have an accident"...''what is your occupation and have you ever had an injury or been hit in the head/neck?" ... "tons of times..... but this ONE time...... BIG time!!!!''

DIAGNOSIS?
Severe Lordosis of the Cervical Spine with bulging C-5/C-7 disks with additional disintegration/disease of the disks.


RESULT:
Injury sustained by severe impact to the right/back side of the head and neck with extreme force.

All this is causing neurological issues, tingling and numbness in my right hand, fingers and I am on a number of medications used for seizure patients. Is this all from one Norwegian Black Metal concert? probably NOT.... years of shooting? im certain. Is the massive damage done from that one faithful night? ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY...... HAVE A LOOK DARLINGS.



                                              THE OPPOSITE OF A NORMAL SPINE

                                                        SATYR OF SATYRICON 2008

 


WATCH YOUR GOODS KIDS.......


http://www.sfexaminer.com/entertainment/music/2012/07/no-more-headbanging-mortal-slayer-frontman

I HAVE A BROKEN HEART

5 months of body/mind altering medications, blood work, X-rays, Nuclear Cardiac testing, EKGs, ECHOs, hospitalization & sleepless nights, I have received some alarming & life changing news (again).  In May my Heart function was 20%, I was living w the knowledge that I can go into 'Cardiac Arrest' aka ''sudden Death'' at any time, I had to completely change my life immediately or I would die. In July I had a 50%+ chance that I would receive a Cardiac Implant (machine) before my 33rd Bday in October.
I bullied my way into a third series Heart test/lab (not easily granted) & received results today.  My original diagnosis was that of a highly unusual & INCURABLE Heart disease 'Cardiomyopathy' & a condition 'Sinus Tachycardia' both deadly & possibly hereditary (Father).  Today I am approx 5% below 'perfect' Heart function. I do NOT have a Disease/Condition or fall into Sudden Death risk.  I ''HAVE A COMPLETELY NORMAL HEART.'' What I DID have was ''Stress Cardiomyopathy'' aka ''Broken Heart Syndrome'' (cute right?) Me: ''WHAT THE FUCK?!'' Cardiologist: "YOU MAY HAVE HAD A HEART ATTACK & DIDN'T KNOW IT BECAUSE YOU WERE SO ILL OR AT THE LEAST THE SAME SYMPTOMS OF A LEGIT HEART ATTACK.'' What is this Syndrome that mimics the incurable disease? I will tell you friends......
Something so traumatic and stressful both emotionally & physically happened to me that my Heart was ''shocked'' it went into near ''arrest'' causing severe tissue inflammation strangling valves, lack of oxygen & blood flow to my body and if not caught, medicated/treated I would be long dead this Summer. In lamens terms..... A HEART ATTACK but not from blockages (typical) but from ''extreme unusual stress to the Heart''.

This Syndrome unlike my original diagnosis had no long term damage to my ticker but my life is forever changed. I will be on medications for a long while (nasty side-effects) but to ensure this doesn't happen again.

I was told I could die and nearly did...... I felt like it.
Today I am ''Normal.''
5 months with a time bomb in my chest & I am finally ok.

The Doctor took a good look into my eyes & told me that if I do not lower my over all stress that I can get sick again.  He advised a complete career change, this is a hard pill to swallow.

How does a 32 year old non smoker/19 yr non meat eater/active/non drug user have a Heart Attack?

DEPRESSION. ANXIETY. LOSS. ILLNESS. MAJOR NOSE/SINUS SURGERY.  SLEEP DEPRIVATION. PRESSURE TO SUCCEED.
LACK OF SUPPORT. FEAR.  ....

This has altered every fiber in my body and soul.  
My life has forever changed. Again.

When I grow up........

When I was 17 I graduated High School. I stayed back in 1st grade due to a culmination of things such as an Autumn birthday (younger than most) and my inability to be kind to others and mainly wandering off to the craft table, ignoring any and all instruction. Keeping a 4 year old back solves the problems at hand......

I had been overly ambitious to work and 'carry my weight' before I was old enough to work.
I was able to work at 15 and immediately started working once graduated.
When I was a 'kid' I wanted to be an Artist. Nearly all of my classmates made plans, goals and stratergized for the glorious post graduation.  I was constantly called into meditations and counseling with teachers, also therapists to discuss my personal strategies. When I would tell everyone that I wanted to be and Artist I was directed to courses and structured learning programs that had nothing to do with my personal goals.

In the graduating year book I got 2 out of 7 superlatives. I worked 4 years towards receiving the 'most artistic' title. I was dubbed both Most Changed since 7th grade & Most Original.
They saved the 'best eyes' category for the brainless cheerleader. A care could be given that I had been the only one to receive 2 of 7, fore I am not 'most artistic'.
 
Once I graduated sans plans to attend college I had moved into my 1st apartment and head first into full time employment at my 'job'. I worked diligently at said job all the while dreaming of my purpose and that was to be an Artist.
Tied up in a noose and Polo collared shirt while donning a name tag (dancing around for kids parties) seemed like a means to an end, I would save money while working towards becoming an Artist.
I had soon lost track of any school mates as they had all gone to college, moved or scooted their own way towards personal success.  I had an opportunity via friend to move to New York City and use what little skills I had to manage a major Multimedia Art House and surely I was over my head. This would be one major lesson in the 'its all in who you know' department.
I made the leap and started managing successful Artists, facilitating a dream and in turn producing results for them.
I have a high profile job at 20 but I want to be an Artist. I radiate resentment strong enough to turn heads from the pulsating Macintosh machines. I would soon fail at holding this house of strictly right-brained individuals in harmony. I would soon pack up and go home.

Fast forward many years of menial jobs as constant as my dreams of grandeur to be an Artist.
I would soon meet an individual who ushered me into a position in the city again, a position managing a successful  Professional Photographer.  My job had become nearly effortless because I was facilitating the dream of an established, college educated and hard working professional Artist.

Once again the dreaded pattern emerges, resentment was thick, a visible cloud of disparity emanating from me at all times. My relationships failed. My goals out of reach and worse of all.... my health is failing due to emmence depression, anxiety and utter hopelessness. A complete lack of fulfillment.

I make a phone call. I pack my bags again. I leave.

With a pat on the shoulder from my Artist employer who with regret to his personal organizer and 'left brain' as it were, I am on my way out the door. ''Damn he will miss me''.

Before I go I am to receive a parting gift.

I am handed a Black bag and loosely, nonchalantly told:
''Take this and use it, you have more use for it than I do right now. In return I want you to write me  a letter and create a plan on how you are going to use this or it will no longer be yours, its that simple.''


When I opened the gifted bag my Heart sunk. I walked onto the train out of the Studio for my goodbyes.

I had donated half my possessions, ditched my car (literally), bought a one way plane ticket for a 3,000 mile destination in which I had never been.  I had a couch to sleep on, 2 suitcases, $400.00 cash/no reserve and an NIKON SLR CAMERA in a Black bag... I do have a plan.
Shortly after I get a position in a Fine Art studio in LA, managing and facilitating the dreams for Professional Artists. Amongst my peers I am recognized for being such and while my day job what just that, I was building my own reputation in a city of Sharks. My diligence paid off. 


I was given more than an expensive gift, menial to the giver and which I could never have afforded to buy.
I was given the opportunity, support and tools to be the artist I am.

It wasnt until this time I realized as clear as day that I came into this world an Artist. I will exist in this world as an Artist.  I will no longer facilitate others dreams only to neglect my own because I am in fact, a Professional Artist.


The years of resentment and 'failure' that I will have to struggle at working and never become something had surely taken a toll. You become weary and utterly enfeebled once you choose to believe your purpose  is out of reach. You become your thoughts. You choose the direction you go and not the high school counselors or Chuck E Cheeze Manager.

Years later my prized camera may not be the newest on the market but I can keep my head above water in the ocean of Sharks.

I am an Artist.


“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”
-Dr. Suess


HTTP://WWW.KELEIGHBLACK.COM

Positive living through an negative outlook.

I have spent a decade in NYC, half a decade in Hollywood and a childhood in the country/forest of New England. My anxiety fueled tirades have a source. As an image creator and writer I have the sources and freedom to express myself and except any feedback on this multimedia social platform.
One thing to always expect is the lack of open mindedness I do often receive in passive aggressively masked comments; retorts from left field. What I do know is that much of my inspiration comes from the darker side of human existence and there is no shortage of Muses. I choose the people who are in my life making a conscious effort to exist amongst them weather it be for or a challenge or a paycheck. One gift that I have always had is the gift of seeing right through people and viewing the underlying desires they posses.           The gift of observation is a curse. It is nearly effortless to connect behaviors to constant patterns while watching individuals struggle like a duck on water, seamless on the surface with wild legs kicking beneath them to a desired destination and quickly.
So you enter a zone such as Los Angeles California and discover all sorts of characters, similarly in lovely New York City. Major cities attract a variant of personalities all extreme in nature, how else will you survive?   If you do not have the cult of personality traits you most certainly will gravitate towards them and cultivate into an entirely new creature. 
Not many will ever except the metamorphism and trust that they are just the same grounded individual they always have been.
If I had a dollar for every time I heard "It will be ok" or"Everything will work out" not to forget my ultimate favorite....  "I (we) did what I (we) had to do..." I most certainly am not rich yet nor a grudge holder.
I am however, a Soothsayer, a deeply connected creature with an impeccable sense of smell for utter bullshit.  So many people are living in an alternate reality created on hype that is built off of envy as a result of self disgust. I am sad because many don't even recognize it. Let the money roll in and the compliments flow... this is the only fuel some need to wake up in the morning.
So am I negative? Is all I focus on perpetuate negativity? Absolutely not. I myself am in-tuned and utterly discussed with the self imploding social experiment we are partaking in.
Horror films, violent programs and 'dark' music doesn't fuel my negativity (as stated by many) I am living in a real and very grim world. We all are.
Playing video games, watching childrens programs/films and pretending I am a pretty princess in bright colors while doing Yoga every morning after my green shake doesn't calm me or put me in a perfect world.
Reading a fictitious book such as the Bible created by delusional  madmen while wearing a set of Mala beads after pruning my Bonsai trees doesn't thrust me into a majickal state of mind where the grim reality of our falling society doesn't exist.
I would ask those who are distracted so deeply with their personal goals to stop stepping on others to reach the top of your mystical mountain. You most certainly are going to tumble down head first with not a soul to save you at the bottom.
I have spent the last few years in a place so grim and fueled with selfishness that's mildly peppered with kindness that I have had to remove myself entirely in order to shed the layers.

I have retreated to the countryside for several months if not more, in order to focus myself and create a piece of art that may be so devastating and additionally life saving to many.

I will continue to speak my mind as the outside world enters my personal domain, if it resonates either positively or negatively..... do not scold me.

Take a look inside onlookers.

“The world says: "You have needs -- satisfy them. You have as much right as the rich and the mighty. Don't hesitate to satisfy your needs; indeed, expand your needs and demand more." This is the worldly doctrine of today. And they believe that this is freedom. The result for the rich is isolation and suicide, for the poor, envy and murder.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov 

Mes' Heart

I just underwent major sinus/nose surgery for the 2nd time and it has been said that it may take up to 6 months for the nerves inside of my face to grow back and regain feeling.
It is hard to smile when your upper lip feels rubbery like a giant eraser, the one you loved in 1st grade.

I would like to take a moment to thank modern science for such contrivances like the 'electrocardiogram' aka 'EKG' as fore this particular contraption has saved my life as where human error had nearly ended me.
This EKG was ordered via sinus surgeon to make sure my Heart could withstand going under-the-knife. Mandatory. A typical test that provided alarming numbers. Said numbers qualified me for an intimate 3 hour session of face mangling with a price tag of nearly $70+ thousand dollars (as well several months of post-op torture).


I request a moment to thank my general practitioner of medicine as it was his decision to 'green flag' my surgeries and nearly condemn me to the grave. This scholarly, deep pocketed individual has much of 3 years of my life in his hands as well, my bank account. I am confounded.

Damn! This healing feels unnatural, it feels arduous and when the fuck will I be able to feel my eyelid and lip again.....

I found the energy to get out of bed and off pain meds long enough to casually stroll into the best Cardiologist good ol' Beverly Hills had to offer up.... oh... it so happens to be the same individual suggested by my trifling GP. Just great.


MY FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH......
The man who saved my life.

Mister Heart Doctor, I just had a 'test' with unusually high numbers and a painful sinus surgery a few weeks ago, and um, I figured since I have the free time and suspicion that the numbers ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY FIVE ARE NOT REMOTELY CLOSE TO SEVENTY...... maybe you could shed some light?

Another Electrocardiogram...a few squirts of Surgi-lube and external fleshy probes and BOOM!!!
A print out of my entire electronic Heart information and total lack there of.

"Why Keleigh you actually had the surgery on your sinus/nose with THESE (above mentioned) numbers!!? Pleased to meet you and most surprised you have survived". Excellent. Now down to the dirty talk.
I have Severe Familiar (nice way of saying 'genetic') Cardiomyopathy disease... of the Heart.

It breaks down like this:
My heart is too large, to weak, misfiring at times, and doubly fast. Dangerously fast!
Aside from all the excellent verbiage my poor functioning Heart is working a quarter of what it should and will never be 100% as long as I shall live. More medications. Major lifestyle alterations.

Time to except that I have a time bomb in my chest that has qualified me for 'sudden death'.

I wear a medical alert bracelet.... most excellent technologies have improved with pills boxes too.


Join me on this misadventure and cautionary tale of my enfeebled Heart.