Thursday, August 30, 2012


Ok, ok, ok, we are back with another VISION CASTING tells us what you think.  Enjoy!

I walked into the studio feeling a little sluggish, definitely not the way I wanted to start the morning. Yet there I was with so much to do, to relax now would make the eight months leading up to this day a loss. “Finish strong", I told myself. I had to resolve a number of issues with my upcoming art event, and it varied from a final cut on a short film, the last brush strokes on art pieces, and the clothes. Oh my, the clothes. So I dug in. Sitting in front of my power Mac, I began to watch the current cut of the short on the 27-inch screen. The flow was impeccable and with a few minor changes to the intro, I felt it would grab the audience and bring them into my world.

At times like this, when I get into the zone, I’d think about the journey to the present moment. This time I thought about Summer. It wasn’t any specific thought of her that jumped into my mind. It was more like a mash up of everything from the island resort stay to our trip to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Amongst the backdrop of the good times there was all the hiccups that resulted in us taking the dreaded step of deciding to call it quits. They say all good things come to their appropriate end and just like that, it was over. A few short months after the breakup, I ran into her on the set of a video shoot and we were cordial and all, but there was this look she gave me biting her lip just a little that struck a cord with me. I called her the next day. That was relapse one. 

There was a knock at the sliding glass door to my home studio that looked out onto the crystal blue waters of my pool. Sometimes when working, I would have to close the blinds to keep focus as, Kimberly and Okoye would be out there sunbathing. The knock was Ricardo. He came by to help with the logistics of the art installation and assist in making everything as magical as possible. Seeing him as I slid open the glass door reminded me of the link he had in common with Summer, and now she was back in my head like a catchy hook to a song that won’t go away.

My second relapse with Summer started at a coffee shop. I was getting that afternoon fix and there she was looking as amazing as ever, legs crossed sitting in a corner by herself. I debated whether or not to go over and say hi. It was one of those awkward moments. My resolve was to order my drink and go, leaving it up to her to approach me, real grown up right. I ordered my small iced coffee with room for cream because I enjoyed watching the milk mix with the coffee, and I would slowly pour it in. In that time, standing at the condiments station and not thinking it would be my undoing, Ricardo would walk into the joint recognizing me off the bat. At that point in time, we hadn’t seen each other in years, basically since college. To know Ricardo it was to know his boisterous laugh and his way of talking. He explained to me as we talked, that since college he’d traveled to Europe and Spain, got married, and ended up here working as a curator for another local gallery. We sipped our coffees and continued to talk as his wife, Dawn, had come over with their drinks. Before they left, Ricardo invited me over for dinner; he told me I’d love seeing his extensive library of art and design books. I agreed, as that sounded really cool. Energized by the chance encounter I saw Summer out of the corner of my eye,  looking in my direction. I watched Ricardo and Dawn walk off and turned toward Summer. She smiled. I stood there as if I was naked, exposed to her alluring capabilities. She still sat off in the corner, slowly sipping her tea while people watching, which was something I never could understand, because I always felt people should be watching her. 

I walked over, sat down, and talked with her for a bit. She had just signed on with a new modeling agency and was determined to get on a cover of a magazine, which for a model was an important step in creating longevity in the industry.  I looked at my watch. It was 2:45pm. I needed to be back at the studio by 3pm that day. I looked to wrap the conversation up and we were getting along better than expected. The events of the first relapse played in the back of my mind, not yet manifesting itself in my speech or body language. Then she touched my hand that was casually placed on the table between us. I looked into her eyes and all the tender and intimate moments came rushing back like a tsunami. I questioned myself. Was her hold on me that strong? It couldn't be. She broke up with me. I tried to feel hurt. I was the jilted lover, but with the chance of sex with an ex on the table, I played it as if I couldn’t care less. She then informed me she could come over that night if I liked? I said nothing, but reached into my brown Louis Vutton bag and pulled out my extra set of keys, the same keys I once took back from her to hurt her. Now it was to use her. I got up told her I’d be home at 9pm and not to keep me waiting and walked back to the studio with a confused heart.

Ricardo looked over the film footage, himself feeling the same way about the intro and a few other minor spots. It felt good to be working at this level doing what I undoubtly loved doing, creating. We then moved to look over the actual art pieces hanging from the wall opposite my Mac computers in my home studio. We just looked, for a good few minutes in silence at the work, mentally piecing together the artwork that felt coherent and looked as if it was meant to be together. Ricardo and I discussed our personal take on the pieces hanging on the wall when he got a call. Figuring it would be a good moment to pause, we took a break. The sunset was gorgeous at that moment so I walked out the sliding glass doors to the pool and patio to think. A cool breeze blew as I looked out at the landscape in front of me, which lead me to think of her again.

As I left my downtown studio a little after nine, I had to be honest. I wondered if she’d already be there waiting on me. I drove the usual route back to my house with that thought on my mind the entire way. I laughed to myself thinking that my move of giving her my keys gave me “pimp” status. I pulled up into my driveway. Her burgundy camero was parked where she usually would park it. I walked inside to find her looking at some of the changes I made to the place since the break. We conversated a bit, real surface stuff nothing to deep. I made her a drink, and we continued to talk. I turned on some music while both of us were waiting for the buzz to kick in. We circled each other like a predator does its prey. I’d have to say in this day and time, hooking up with an ex seemed part of the adventure of human life. Much the same as the journey to finding love carried its own unexpected twists. I’m sure I loved her when we were in it, but now it was just about revisiting the familiar one more time to get back that feeling so things didn’t seem so lonely. We walked back to my bedroom with the sounds of Coltrane played over the Bose speakers. We undressed, as if in a doctor’s office feeling a hint of self-consciousness and took to it with a kiss. We, after what seemed like an eternity of fumbling around, fell into that familiar rhythm as she enjoyed herself gyrating on top of me, her opened hands pressed flat against my chest. She then leaned back, arching her back, taking me deeper breathlessly shouting out my name, and trembling. We held each other like before our perspiration co-mingling, her head on my chest, and my arm around her. It felt good, maybe a little too good. Because when she broke the embrace, it felt like the ripping of a bandage from a wound. She got dressed, and she told me that she had a good time. We kissed and, out of the corner of my eye, I say her place my extra set of keys on the nightstand and she left.

The next morning was a blur, yet it was very significant not that I was leaving to New York to meet with some interested brokers in a developing script I was working on, but for the realization I was yet to have. Kimberly was going to drop me off at the airport. With everything packed, I reached for my iPhone and my Ray Ban sunglasses from the kitchen counter, and it hit me. She had said my name when she came. She in our entire relationship, had never said that. Maybe she talked a little dirty, and we even got really kinky, but never did she say my name. And the way she said it oh! I was perplexed as I tried to recount all the times, but this was the first. We got to the airport. Kimberly gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I walked through security trying to get my head around it all, while looking at all the lovely stewardesses wondering if they’d rekindled for a night with an ex to curb the feeling of loneliness. Ultimately, I came coming to the understanding that its certainly bound to happen in an age where everyone is so controlled by their devices, and that sometimes getting the best of a person doesn’t come till it’s over.       

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and if you are in Chico, Ca check out KONJO @ 112 w 2nd street.

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Tuesday, August 28, 2012


Back for another fix eh', well this ones a dosey!  Enjoy!

Schools back in so if you don't know...

Find luxury DIY Able Abe Clothing in Chico, Ca. @

as well as KONJO


and mos def check us out online @


Monday, August 27, 2012


We gotta get after it this week ya'll, THANK GOD IT'S MONDAY.   Enjoy!

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Saturday, August 25, 2012


This week we've brought back THE TOP 3 VIDEOS OF THE WEEK. Tell us what you think, or if you have a selection we miss please share by leaving us a comment or a link.  Enjoy!

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Thursday, August 23, 2012


Back for more, bet its getting addicting this VISION CASTING thing.   Enjoy!

As she began to wake, I had already slipped back into bed next to her. I played as if I was still asleep and watched her with one eye open. She moved like a model. The morning sunlight glowed on her pale skin. She put on her Jimmy Choo red suede heels. She instantly became a matter of inches taller. She walked around the bed to the balcony doors and opened them, letting in a flood of warm morning light. This is how I started each day, meditating drowned in the morning’s gift of light. Today I got to watch Nausami. She stood there in nothing but her red suede heels letting her nude body absorb the heat from the sunshine. It was a perfect picture, which sparked an idea.

She then, after a few minutes of just being and contorting and stretching out her body with yoga or Tai Chi like movements, began getting dressed. I made noises like I was just waking up and saw her standing there adjusting her black lace bra. I said “Good morning,” and she replied with the same. “How long have you been awake?” I continued. She replied, “Long enough to feel you eyes on me”. I laughed.

 She jumped back onto the bed with the sunlight casting a halo effect around her head, another perfect picture. We lay looking at each other for a beat, not saying a word. I moved my right hand and touched her left, flexing and extending her well-manicured hand. It was 9am. At that moment, the thought came rushing back into my mind. Looking her over from the soles of her feet to the top of her head with a few intermittent stops on the way, the idea screamed to me again. I told Nausami, “Give me one minute, and I’ll be right back.” I jumped out of bed, a little stiff still, and went down the hallway to my studio while wearing my scarlet pair of Ralph Lauren boxers. I entered the studio and grabbed the first camera I had ever used which was a Nikon SLR. I loaded it with black and white film, took two other canisters of film, and headed back to my bedroom. My intent was to make “MAGIC”. She smiled at my return and smiled even more when she noticed the camera in my hand.

 From what I still could remember from the night before, I don’t remember telling Nausami what I did for a living. Yet she moved as if she knew what was coming next. She began to move more seductively arching her back and running her hands through her hair. I would press the trigger snapping her pose and then she’d move, snap, move, snap, move, and snap. At one point she began tearing at the sheets and throwing them from the bed, while grabbing another and covering herself completely. I raised the sheets with my left hand and snapped off a few more shots with my right as she posed provocatively under the covers. At the moment that roll of film was spent, Nausami grabbed the camera from me saying, “Your turn”. Her soft voice and broken English pattern made for an intense segway.

I reloaded the camera for her and showed her a few pointers and settings to shoot with. I remember when I was learning the manual camera process. It was like one of those “BIG IDEA” moments or like the discovery of fire for me, as it opened up a whole other world of creativity. With the only world I had been working in being only drawing and two dimensional arts. Nausami snapped off a few practice shots. I was feeling a little self conscious and hesitant, as I was always the photographer behind the camera. I asked her, “What do you want me to do?” This was a classic line I’d heard from many an aspiring model and subjects in my photo series. Yet I wanted her to direct me, as she looked around the room gathering ideas of where to place me. She would then say, Move over there. Put your hands on your stomach. Smile. With each excited direction she gave me, it was difficult not to be aroused. I grabbed a pillow from the bed shielding myself. “Put that down”, she said with a stern voice. I put the pillow down. I looked at her with an excited glare. I was becoming the submissive. She and I both began to enjoy it, as she continued to bark orders at me, telling me how to move this way and that, contorting my body and using it as a prop. She finally told me to remove my boxers and lay on the bed. From that moment on she shot the most provocatively intimate poses of me. The Magical moment had arrived.

We finally took a break, walking out to the balcony and to the night sky. It was 8:30pm. I felt lighter. I felt like I had just conquered some kind of fear, or like stepping out from an emotional sauna. As Nausami shot, she began asking me questions. They started out easy and gradually began to dig deeper into my psyche. As we got more familiar, she would ask me to act out certain roles or place me in hypothetical situations and have me act out of those feelings. When it was right she would capture the moment on film. If someone gave me a stack of bills at that moment it would pale in comparison to the feeling I had after exposing myself to the point as I did with Nausami. It was cathartic.

We kissed, went back inside, dressed, and moved through the house to the kitchen. In the kitchen I found a pair of heels, which had to be either Kimberly or Okoye’s next to a pair of cowboy boots. I threw them in the adjoining guest room. As I made dinner Nausami told me she’d be leaving California to go to New York in a few days and that I should come. I didn’t say, Yes right away, I guess I was still holding on to something that was making me hesitate. I knew I was scheduled to meet with some brokers on a script I had to finish, but that wasn’t for two more weeks.

She proceeded to tell me of the amazing place she’d be staying at that had quite the view of the New York skyline, making the offer that much more intriguing. We ate dinner out on the back balcony, continuing to conversate deeply about life, love, and happiness being as honest and free as could be after our photo session. I asked her what I had wondered since running into her at the exit asking

“Where were you thinking you were going when you went out that exit?

“I was looking for you”, she replied.

I then asked, “How did you know I was outside that door?”

She replied with “You are wearing glo in the dark shoes”.       

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Tuesday, August 21, 2012


Everyone benefits from JUST FOR LAUGHS.   Enjoy!

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Monday, August 20, 2012


Back at the top of another week, got goals, got work, got dreams, THANK GOD IT'S MONDAY.   Enjoy!


Saturday, August 18, 2012

ABLE ABE clothing behind the scenes

So here is a little teaser we made up for our Spring / Summer Lookbook 2012, if you didn't see the post check it out here spring /summer-2012-lookbook . Check out the video teaser right below.   Enjoy!

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Thursday, August 16, 2012


Back again, we know you needed a little VISION CASTING in your life.   Enjoy!

I woke up early that morning. I had a lot on my mind. I couldn’t stand not doing anything, so I left the hotel and took a run in the park. I had been held up in that hotel for a week trying to work out these rewrites and present it to the brokers. The early morning fog, still caught up between the tree branches, made for an eerie site. The run energized me and as I got back to the hotel, my mind was racing with new ideas to fill the gaps. I showered and ordered room service of Santa Fe scrambled eggs, tortillas, raisin bran, coffee, and orange juice. I sat in front of my laptop in my bathrobe and a pair of boxers. Like a surgeon, I began cutting up the script meticulously, making the necessary adjustments to make it work better overall. It was 8:00am.

The meeting with the brokers was scheduled for 1:00pm. Come 11:30am I felt the script was surred up enough that the final fate of the script was left up to the ones brokering the film. I got dressed, wearing black Visum denim jeans, a light blue chambray short sleeve Staples design button down, a black Nike destroyer letterman jacket, a crisp pair of Air Force Ones, and my gold Rolex. I got downstairs and outside, on the street the doorman hailed me a cab occupied by a young attractive woman in a white cleavage bearing dress. She didn’t pay me any attention, as she was so into the moment with her iPhone. I told the cabby my destination, and we were off.

The rewritten script was bound and in a manila folder in my Marc Jacobs messenger bag on my lap. I was told this script could go for as much as five hundred thousand, and I was looking forward to negotiating for more as these brokers came from money. The trip wasn’t as long as expected, and yet I still was able to take a few good looks over at the woman next to me. When I got to the building the cabby pulled up in front. I paid, got out, and made my way to suite 375. I was to be meeting with three brokers at their, office a Victorian style space with two giant double-panned windows with a breathtaking view. I sat confident in front of the three brokers. They were all lawyers, or all lawyers and accountants. I don’t remember exactly what I was told initially, but I wasn’t impressed. They wanted to enter the filmmaking business. They were told I was the “hottest” screenwriter out with an eye for the provocative. After seeing my latest film they wanted to do business with me. Before we could get down to business we had some “manly’ conversation, as one on the brokers talked about his new black Lamborghini. I mentioned to him that I had gotten the chance earlier that year in Paris to race the exact model he was talking about on a professional track. The look on his face was priceless, as living in the city he probably never got his lambo over 55 mph.

 I figured, after a little side conversation, that we’d get to the point of the meeting. The broker seated in the middle of the other two proceeded to offer me a drink as he made one for himself. The other two followed suit pouring themselves a drink. I proceeded to stay focused on what was at hand. Each of the brokers made their way to the bar and back to their seats, as the conversation continued moving to another topic. All of the men dressed in muted neutral colors looking like a bunch of grown frat boys at a social. Now the broker seated in the middle began talking about a masquerade party that was held over the weekend. He went on to describe his backroom rendezvous that night with the secretary from down the hall, going on about her adept oral capabilities. At that moment I got up and made myself a drink. I explained to the brokers, that if they were serious about having me as screenwriter on this project, we needed to work now. I could relate to the “Boys Club” mentality. I mean, I remember each of the models I’d worked with that we later ended up expressing our animalistic desires for each other whether it be in their trailer, the back of Bustolini’s, or after a gallery show. I still talk to a lot of them to this day, but I knew now these guys were getting into the business for the wrong reasons. They were thinking that films would be another pool of women they could dip into or another stream of money to collect from. I’d seen it before. Those types don’t last, and if they did stick around for a bit their work was shit. I was always told, “Do what you love, and love what you do”. I had a commission piece of artwork that said that exact thing back at the studio. I instantly became home sick.

I thought to myself, “How did I end up meeting with these guys?”, as their conversation went on a bit more in graphic detail. I sipped my drink while looking out the window. “This was a great script,” I thought to myself; maybe even an Oscar contender. Did I want them to reap the benefits of my labor...? I thought hard and deep. I finished my drink, walked over to the coffee table where my script still lay in the manila folder, unaddressed or even looked over. They’d need time to look at it, but I wouldn’t give them the chance putting the envelope back into my bag. It was 2:30pm. I set my drink at the bar and left with no consideration for the three brokers. Once outside of the broker’s office I got on my phone and called my assistant Nicole to inform her that I was coming home early, and I asked her to look and see if we had it in the budget to shoot another film this year. My heart began to beat faster, aroused at the thought of working on another film. I knew I’d be ready when the time came. I just didn’t know it would happen like this.           

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Tuesday, August 14, 2012


We hope everyone had a great weekend and thanks for stopping by for a dose of JUST FOR LAUGHS.   Enjoy!

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Monday, August 13, 2012


Here is another dose of motivation for your Monday.   Enjoy!


Saturday, August 11, 2012


REYNA X WALKER photo set 1

Photographer: Marc Andrew Fitzgerald Johnson
@ Able Abe Studios

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Thursday, August 9, 2012


So we are back again with another VISION CASTING. We think this is a pretty good one, let us know what you think.   Enjoy!

The magical moment came and went. The moment this time was for Marie Fuentes and her Couture Hair designs. I had realized over the years that with as much work and planning that went into these shows, there was only a fleeting space of time where all eyes are on you or your work. That was the lifestyle I had carved out for myself and it was now an everyday reality.

The art space was packed to the walls with people and overflowed to the outside of the gallery where the reception was to take place. Amber glowing lights hung from the tree branches setting the mood as the dj’s selection of ambient instrumentals was the soundtrack to the interplay of well dressed guests, artists, and socialites sipping Ace of Spades champagne. 

I had become a fixture at these events, as it was my gallery, and it was backing Marie’s latest creative endeavor. I had also been on the hunt of finding artists, designers, and photographers, convincing them that to do a show with me would be in their best interest. This was the inevitable next level for me, as it kept me young at heart and mind and everything I did relevant, as I was the man to know.

I was a little dressed down for this event wearing a fresh pair of Japanese denim jeans, an Able Abe vintage white v-neck Roman solider print a black Marc Jacobs motorcycle jacket, my Brietling Navitimer Cosmonaute watch on my wrist and a pair galaxy Kobe 4s on my feet. I was excited for the whole event and everything seemed to be going great. I moved through the crowd looking to catch up with some familiar characters and find Marie and her girls for our post show drink, and that is when I saw her.

She was the only one not moving, not talking to anyone, or fucking with her phone, as she stood off by herself against a gallery wall. She wore a royal blue dress that came down to the flirty middle of her thighs, a matching red leather jacket and purse. Her hair in a loose bun on the top of her head with poppy red suede open toed heels. And she just continued to stand there. I watched, thinking at any moment she’d be accompanied by her boyfriend or at least a few people she came with, but no one showed up. I was amazed at how someone dressed so vibrant could be so alone.

I found Marie and her girls posted up at one of the plush leather seating areas. I gave her a big hug and kiss on the cheek, I was really proud of her and am always impressed with her energy and creative passion. It was always a joy working with her. I surveyed the lovely ladies with her and most I knew and greeted with a hug and kiss on the cheek. Those I hadn’t met, I introduced myself and kissed their hand.

The party began to pickup as a wave of late arrivals came through. At that point, I grabbed a champagne flute off the tray as a waiter walked by. I moved to another level of the gallery where I could see the entire reception below when my phone rang. Seeing whom it was I debated not to answer, but in the split second I clicked it on, “Hello?” It was Kimberly and Okoye calling for directions to the gallery. Not being able to hear clearly where they were or where they were coming from, I made my way to a nearby exit that would lead me to the quiet I needed to get them the information. As I hung up with them walking back to the exit reaching, for the door handle the door opened. It was the girl I saw earlier standing by herself. I was pleasantly surprised, yet I stumbled on what to say to break the ice. I held the door open letting her walk out. “Leaving already?” I asked she looked at me half smiling. I then told her how much I loved what she was wearing. I must have sounded like a write up on a fashion blog, as I had become accustomed to knowing the details; it was my work. Still she just gave me a half smile. I introduced myself and stretched out my hand to shake hers and get her name. When she finally spoke in a soft broken English pattern, she told me her name was Nausami from Japan. She smiled as she said it. From that moment it was like the spotlight went on in my head, and she was the main attraction. Anyone who knew me knew I was into all things Japanese be it the culture, fashion, food, or women. We quickly began to find a way to converse, as I helped her finish sentences in English. She went on to explain how she had gotten here and what she thought about the show. We then sat at a bench; I had run back inside for a bottle of champagne and two glasses so we could drink. Back at the bench, she began asking questions about myself, who I was, what I did, but all I wanted was to hear her talk watching her pink pouty lips contort as she searched for the words in English. We went back and forth talking for a couple of hours.

The party was still going, as it should. I had learned a little Japanese, but not enough to conversate with a born speaker, but I gave it a go. The champagne had done its work. We were both feeling a little tipsy, so I asked if she wanted to see my place. She was willing and abliged me. We moved to my car, a pearl white Lexus, parked out front and drove up the hill to my place. She was amazed at the layout saying it in Japanese and searching for the words in English. She was so fine, long lashes and big brown eyes that put you in a trance. We got inside and I gave her the tour of the place. I then fixed us another drink and moved out to the deck looking out at the city lights below. She kicked off her heels revealing her exquisite toes and feet, another weakness of mine. I moved closer and picked up one of her shoes. They were Jimmy Choo’s. She indeed had great taste.  I asked her what she thought of America, as I set my drink down and took her left foot and then her right and put them across my lap and began massaging the soles of her feet. She told me America is like the place where anything can happen. If you will it enough it will come true, but she went on to say that if you miss your moment, you might not live long enough for it to come around again. I was so in tune to what she was saying that I found myself gripping and caressing her thighs and sliding my hand up under her dress ever so slightly, gradually moving further up her legs. She watched me with anticipation not saying a word. She parted her pouty lips as if she was preparing to say something, looking me intently in the eyes. She spread her knees apart, she was as natural as they get and very ready. I took it upon myself to translate her gaze and posture and took her right there.

The next morning I awoke with the sunrise through my bedroom window to see Nausami still asleep. I was still in awe of her exotic beauty, her hair tussled and thrown across the pillow, her arching back and curvaceous ass. I found her to be the most interesting person at the reception because she was standing all alone confident in her skin. Maybe exiting that door was her moment to be in the limelight or maybe it was mine. Whatever the case, as I looked at her sleeping there in my bed, the only thought in my head was to gently wake her so I could seize her for another day.  


Tuesday, August 7, 2012


And your back, I knew you would, so I made this for you.   Enjoy!