What’s shaking gentle reader? I mean how’s life treating you … there is a phrase that I think often describes how life treats me “Like a red-headed whore in a Sicilian brothel.” and to be honest I don’t think it’s a good thing.
But amidst all the drama that is life I find myself fairly comfortable. I did eventually buy a truck . And have been slowly morphing my home into a cozy nest. The fall was full of projects I couldn’t get done in the summer ( because county offices take a long time and banks want to know the color of my semen before they sign the papers ).
A sturdy (if ugly ) defence against the wind has been erected, as well as a huge shed for whatnots and gewgaws ( currently housing wood and tools )… More modern technology has encroached my home in the form of a new t.v. and docking station for my laptop. The in home photo studio has amoeba’d itself to a good size without encroaching ( too much ) on the rest of my life…
Ah photography.. Right… lets be clear… although I use the term “photographer” because the label is easy it does not mean I think of myself as such… the idea of being obsessive about lighting and pose makes my skin crawl a little .. All I do is nudge people into a position I like and snap the image … the creativity comes in picking the clothes, and then the post editing .. Seeing what can be carved and smoothed from the rough hewn images I come away with …
But it led to a project.. A coffee table book of words and images.. As I progress along in it I find the need for images to squeeze the words out of me … new images, new models, new scenes… so with the label firmly on my forehead I wade into the world of photographers and models … and evey time I get home I shower with ajax.
I’m used to the diva’s in the performance world, and the bar world.. I wasn’t prepared for the diva’s in the image world ( but I should have been…. poor dumb bastard that I am ) .. There is a golden lining though… I get to turn away the princesses that displease me and ignore the jacks of lenses who want to tell me how it is done… so I blunder my way through - as usual with the grace of a three legged hippo trying out for a scene in fantasia - and I get to know the ones I shoot , finding myself actually amused and enlightened by the 2 percent of intelligent ( albeit mercenary ) souls that fate tosses in my path…. Paying a proper wage for a proper job and doing what I can to make some form of art that I would shell out $39.98 for.
But this leads me to another thought. If I become an artist will I have to become a jackass?
God I hope not!….
Oh for those of you who care .. My beard is delightful.
*there is not to be discussion regarding tastes
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