THE RULES 
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XOXO, Apnea
The Red Robin 









I need to get back to bed. I went too many days only getting a few hours.



Chase is filling in for me today - Here's his tale of St. Louis...



Whenever i close my eyes, I see things from the past week that i don't want to see again.
I don't want to say that everything was horrible, but I know that It was enough for me to crack by the last day.

I don't want to go into too many details, but .... seriously. I think I found the
missing level of Dante's Hell, but this isn't the place to really go off about personal things.

We were told that we should bring sleeping bags, and that we would have "shelter", which left us
prepared for the worst, but not this.

"Shelter" turned out to be an old school where a girl was raped and killed by a janitor who hung himself in boiler room.

I didn't have anything to do
except explore the old place for a few days. It's really just an exact replica of Silent Hill from top to bottom. Upturned desks, dripping pipes in dark old bathrooms from the 40's, A huge piano
repair warehouse filled with 600 or more ancient pianos, blocked off hall ways, dead birds hanging from the ceiling -and now that I think about it, what was making them hang? wouldn't they let go
after death? I guess that's a question for the set designers from an Indiana Jones movie - cryptic old messages on chalk boards, and it even had those Bio-waste handling things that you put your
hands into big rubber gloves and look through the glass. Jesus... Now this shit gets spooky around 3 or 4 in the morning, and you are hearing the screams come up from the sets. It's cold, you are
alone on the fourth floor, you have a dimming flash light, you hear things, you see things, you smell things you don't want to smell. But the really scary stuff for me, was piecing together the life
of the guy who now owns the building. It was actually the only good part about the trip for awhile. I slowly figured out his name and occupation from all of the paperwork and clues lying around.
One of the things I found out through my detective work was that he REALLY likes to sue people, so I won't mention his name. The other thing I figured out is that he is totally 100% INSANE. The sad
thing is, that you could trace his demise in a sort of timeline of sanity that he had in one of his converted office rooms. From what I could tell he was completely and totally obsessed with glassware.
The entire school was filled with it everywhere... hundreds of thousands of pieces of glass. The beginning of the giant cork board had computer printed notes and messages that you would find most
small businesses of this sort. "The only goal you can't accomplish is the one that you don't go after!" and a few "Happy Holidays" things, but as you moved towards the right it started to unravel.
LOTS of bold notes in two inch tall type, most written in the third person. "WHEN DID YOU TELL ME NOT TO TRUST YOU BILL?" "Do you think you are above the law?" "Where will you be when the SBA comes
after us?" Then it turned into a long timeline of bank loans falling through and financial collapse followed by a list of potential betrayers and who was getting sued for what.


I later met a guy who works at this place for the man in question and found out the full story. He bought 600 thousand dollars worth of Novelty glass items and then seemed to have gone bankrupt.
He's since spent the past 16 years trying to figure out a way to make money off of all of this glass. You could tell that he had tried fusing them all in every possible combination, as if one day he would
figure out how to turn a glass angel and a glass paperweight into some sort of transparent atom bomb and reclam his throne in the great glass empire. The sad thing is seeing all of the things he could
have done with this old school instead of watching it fall to waste around him until it looked a little like some of the "after" pictures from post 9/11 Afghanistan.

Here's where things get really weird and we get to the actual story of the picture above.

The owner, who I will call "The Red Robin" did actually have one interest outside of glassware... Turning part of the school into a Ghost
Museum. Now, this doesn't sound like a bad idea, until you see what he has in mind. He's already converted a small section of it and charges people $10 to see it. The brochure promised many amazing sites,
one of witch caught my attention the most: "Witches' Balls". Witches' balls? WTF is a witch ball? can't wait to find out. My new friend who works for Red Robin takes me to the area and shows me around.
It looks like a Salvation Army store with the lights out... some mannequins, some dolls, some paintings that have NOTHING to do with ghosts or anything of the sorts, a piano or two, little statues of Buddha,
6 print outs of ghost pictures from the internet with stories underneath them, and then the infamous witches' balls.... which turned out to be 30 or 40 glass balls that were deadstock from the glassware
business and scattered throughout. In fact, there were hundreds of novelty glass items scattered through the whole tour, which was a hall way and two rooms. I asked Adam why they were there and he said that he thinks Red Robin hopes someone will ask about one and try to buy it. He then told me that most people feel ripped off at the end of the tour and then Red Robin shows them a jacket that's hanging on a
plastic hanger on the corner of a door and tells them it belonged to Jackie Onassis. They usually dispute this, and he says: "Well it could have been".

Now what really gets me is that I've been through
the whole school by now, and I know that it is scary as fuck in parts. I can't figure out why he'd charge people to go looking through some old thrift-store dolls and glass balls, when they could just pay
for a tour of the whole place as it is. There certainly isn't anything scary about a 1984 wood bed with the word "Voodoo Room" written on it with white chalk. This guy is totally nuts. Even worse, I found a
bunch of artifacts around the place that were ACTUALLY interesting. It turns out that he had purchased an entire estate from a Voodoo Witch from New Orleans, yet for some reason he chose not to display
most of it, maybe because it would scare off any would-be glass buyers.

Well, that's how I came across this human skull. Tucked back in the far corner of one of the furthest removed room, surround
by thousands of dusty glass bells, and a set of ceremonial blood-letting knives in a dead alligator head.
The next day I met the Red Robin himself...





I had a feeling the last day would be the worst. I had heard word that Red Robin was going to be around for the day. I didn't know his whole coven would be there as well. When we walked into the old school cafeteria I had no trouble spotting him out. He was sitting at the head seat of a round table assembly that consisted of his team of ghouls, the director, and the director's assistant. It appeared that RR had some major problems with them filming in the boiler room, which could cripple the whole project were he to ban use of that room. Both days revolved entirely around the use of this room. I don't know exactly what his concerns were, but it was something about his building getting shut down if some department or another ever got a look at that room. I was surprised that ANY of the building was still allowed to be occupied.

Red cut an evil eye at me when I walked in. It's impossible to guess his age, but it looked like he may have turned 60 in the 50's and stopped aging. His entire crew had a sort of "Weekend at Bernies" type of feel, in that they all seemed to be reanimated corpses.

Apnea and I were over in one corner of the cafeteria trying to avoid everyone. The Robin had a team of young boys walking around getting tables set up for some sort of public auction they have every friday; most of the items seemed to be his glass wares and the rest were yard sale type items from the locals.

This is when I felt the feeling of eyes staring into my back. I turned around, but it was too late. Even though he moved at a speed of a caterpillar, I couldn't escape his bounding spell. Ap and I were frozen in place, helpless for what seemed like the three hours it took for him and his sidekick to reach us. Trapped! First let me tell you that his legs don't move when he does... he just sort of floats. Very slowly. Second let me describe his outward appearance. He looked like the old man form of Dracula from Oliver Stone's movie from the neck up. If you aren't familiar with that image, just think of Montgomery Burns. This isn't The Robin, This is his one of his coven. He looks like he was maybe 110 when he became undead. At first he shook Apnea's hand and stared at her for a while. A long while. I had time to look him up and down. He was wearing a black turtle neck, A dark colored wind-breaker, and -my favorite part- skin tight spandex biker shorts. Next to him was a Woman of about 88 with those type of "Coke bottle" lenses in her glasses that made her have giant bug eyes. She was staring at me like I was the devil. I don't know why, but she really didn't like me. Vlad started asking Apnea questions about modeling, so I chimed in to save her. Somehow he manifested next to me... looking into me with those undead eyes. Later we both conferred that they were sizing us up like food. It was a creepy feeling. Vlad started asking me about photography. It seems he wanted a picture of Apnea to use for a flyer for a new "gothic photo studio" that he was making in the old school. I was trying to make everyone happy, so that they would be more inclined to let everything slide with the boiler room shit... so I told him I had a "gothic" picture of her that he could just use for free. I was trying to pull it up on my iphone, and he kept getting closer to my neck. By now the woman had started speaking. She had Apnea cornered, asking her about honesty and if I was honest or not. She said that the Robin was too trusting and that's his downfall (when did bill start lying to him?). She wouldn't stop repeating this stuff like a mantra. I was turning more and more to the side so that Vlad couldn't see what was on my screen as I flipped through nudes trying to find this shot. Every time I turned he did as well. Coming in closer. I finally showed him this picture, and he seemed pleased. He went off on a slow whispered tangent about "GOTHIC this and GOTHIC that". I told him I'm not a gothic photographer and that I normally just shoot girls in vintage clothes and settings. He said: "Well that's all part of the gothic culture".

These people were class-A FREAKS. Ap had snuck off and I was stuck with the two of them. They would just stare for a minute or so after every answer i gave. Then they would whisper some more information. I think I blacked out the rest of the conversation and I have no memory of how I escaped them. The last thing I remember was the woman asking if Apnea was my wife or my friend. I said "somewhere in between" and she asked if we could trust her.

After that, the whole film crew all stayed together in one tiny spot of the building. We were trapped. THEY were out there, and who knew what THEY even where. Sitting there in silence during every take, is maddening. I had really hoped to get around the building and shoot some of the glass, crazy notes, dead animals, old bathrooms, etc... but now I was trapped. At some point I snuck out to my car, but the old lady must have followed my trail like so many werewolves, because I looked up to see her staring at me from in front of my car. I made a break for it. I tried to pass some of the day looking at clouds, but every cloud turned into a demon or monster.

I tried to do some sudoku puzzles but could only solve the 6's. This place was demented. I got tired of hearing take after take of screams, and snuck out to my car again where I slept in a sleeping bag for awhile. 15 hours after we got there it was time to leave. Apnea was freezing and covered in wet fake blood. We were now 4 hours from the farm and it was 4:30 AM. We B-lined it... I was afraid of being pulled over on the way and having to explain the half dead girl next to me... but it's a lot better than some of the shit I've had to hide in the past.




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St. Louis vs my sanity 







The Jackal sent me an email an hour ago with some drawings of me when I was in Portland at the beginning of July. That sure was a strange trip. I had a huge spider bite on my arm and The Jackal was all excited about getting Cuban on my arm and getting the poison out. I was really impressed how well he did...and then I was insane around him but he was still really nice and drew happy pictures of me. :)

Then I got another wonderful surprise from Monique Antoinette!



That was a fun shoot when I was in LA in September. I've never shot with a horse before =D

So I'm back from St. Louis and back to my computer and internet but my mind isn't all here yet.

St. Louis isn't one of my favorite places. There's nice people there but I have some pretty awful memories of that city. I ignore it when I go there to work but this time I was sober and couldn't shake the feeling I get when I'm there.

I don't know if it feels like this for other people that act or model but when I'm pretending like I'm happy or sad or scared or sexy or whatever the role is I really get into it...the same thing when I watch movies. If I watch a funny movie I'll be in a good mood for hours afterwards and I'll keep laughing. If I watch a scary movie I'll be scared all day. You get the idea...

It's a really weird feeling. My heart starts fluttering and I'll go into another world and come out where I need to be for the project. This project was a horror movie filmed in a haunted run-down elementary school shot in a boiler room where a janitor raped a student then hung himself. And I had to scream in terror and pain for two days from 2pm to 4am.

I don't watch scary movies. They scare me. I'm an idiot in that regard, either that or I'm just really sensitive. So I don't watch them, but I agreed to live in one for a week because I really love the director's work and I think he's an amazing person. So for the two days where the movie gets really fucked up and scary I had that feeling in my chest where it feels open and my heart flutters and I assimilate my fictitious character.

I watched a Jim VanBebber documentary a few nights earlier where he said, "Pain is temporary, but film is forever." And I kept that in the back of my mind when I was covered in fake blood at 4am in a 50 degree old haunted school and I had just lived through my own death in 12 different takes.

At 4:30am on the 21st I was covered in fake blood and I didn't have access to a shower but I didn't care. Chase and I had to get back to our stable enviornment as soon as possible so we drove all the way back to the farm immediately afterwards.

I'm really glad I went. I don't want to sound like I didn't have a good time, I made some new friends and it was fun to be in a movie. I guess I'm just saying that if I watch a 2 hour long scary movie and I'm out of it for a few hours afterwards..someone do the math on living in it for seven days...enough complaining.

It's almost 5am, I also need to go back to my old schedule. There's a lot I need to do and I need to do it really slowly.


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Wicked Pixel! 


(photo by Chase Lisbon)


I get homesick really easily for places I've only been for a short amount of time. I wasn't even at the farm for a month yet and I really miss it. St. Louis isn't a huge metropolis but it's still the opposite of a farm in the middle of nowhere.

So I guess I'm farmsick? But enough of that! I'll be there in a few days.

I'm sorry I haven't been able to update my journal lately. I've been living on a movie set with no internet for the last few days. Today was our day off so I'm up at their studio using their computer. Tomorrow it's back to the set and the satanic rituals and occult abductions and murders.

It's crazy in here. They're trying to unload everything and I think I'm in the way so I'm going to step out, but I wanted to get here and let you all know that I'm alive and I'll have another massive blog to write when I get back.

Bye!!!!!!!!

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