Now back to editing so I can get this book hitting press before I have a mob at my doorstep demanding to know when they can read it. I think it's already beginning to form which, I suppose, is a good thing. Peace out for now.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Happiness
I'm just taking the brief time to write this before I get back to editing and finish booking shoots for February: this man is amazing. I feel so lucky. :)
Now back to editing so I can get this book hitting press before I have a mob at my doorstep demanding to know when they can read it. I think it's already beginning to form which, I suppose, is a good thing. Peace out for now.
Now back to editing so I can get this book hitting press before I have a mob at my doorstep demanding to know when they can read it. I think it's already beginning to form which, I suppose, is a good thing. Peace out for now.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Poisonous Glitterfarts.
My dreams scare me sometimes. Mkay, so the other night I dreamt:
I was walking into my room when this huge guy with a gun jumps out of nowhere, puts the gun to my head, and tells me to read Twilight. Since I really didn't fancy getting shot in the head I started reading. After a page or two Edward fucking Cullen jumps out of the pages of the book. The asshole looks around, grins, lets out this this loud fart, and runs away.
Now, fastforward about half a day in dream time. As it turns out, Glitterboy's fart was poisonous, and now everyone is going to die. I'm pissed as hell, and to make things worse the entire barely pubescent female demographic is defending the little twit.
Right, so I go to my family and tell them very calmly that we are going to drive to the mainland and take a plane to Denmark, because clearly the poisonous glitterfart won't have reached there. So we start to drive across the Bay Bridge to get to the mainland, but for some unknown reason we stop at this restaurant on the Bridge (about ten miles out over the bay). We walk in and food magically appears. As we're eating I look out the window and see this huge assed tidal wave coming toward us. It hits.
[/dream]
My head hurts now.
I was walking into my room when this huge guy with a gun jumps out of nowhere, puts the gun to my head, and tells me to read Twilight. Since I really didn't fancy getting shot in the head I started reading. After a page or two Edward fucking Cullen jumps out of the pages of the book. The asshole looks around, grins, lets out this this loud fart, and runs away.
Now, fastforward about half a day in dream time. As it turns out, Glitterboy's fart was poisonous, and now everyone is going to die. I'm pissed as hell, and to make things worse the entire barely pubescent female demographic is defending the little twit.
Right, so I go to my family and tell them very calmly that we are going to drive to the mainland and take a plane to Denmark, because clearly the poisonous glitterfart won't have reached there. So we start to drive across the Bay Bridge to get to the mainland, but for some unknown reason we stop at this restaurant on the Bridge (about ten miles out over the bay). We walk in and food magically appears. As we're eating I look out the window and see this huge assed tidal wave coming toward us. It hits.
[/dream]
My head hurts now.
"Model."
Warning: This blog entry contains a significant amount of emotional sap over things that most people would probably roll their eyes at and say dear, it's they're just peektures.
I got asked the other day why I model, and why I photograph people. The question really caught me off guard; usually the people I talk to most about both of these things are involved in one or the other themselves; there is never any "why" in why we do it. "It's for the art" a lot of people say; others say it's because of the money that can be made. I can understand both sides, seeing as I've been both in front and behind the camera with the intentions of beautiful artwork, and at times with the knowledge that I will be leaving with much-needed cash. However, neither is why I started; it really made me sit down and think: why?
I find people fascinating. Honestly, despite the fact that I tend to come off as very outgoing and even a bit egotistical, deep down I'm introverted. I have the horrible knack of believing that I annoy people when I try to befriend them. I spent my childhood having only a handful of friends who in the end weren't even that meaningful and battled with a lot of less-than-pleasant emotions from the time I moved back to the East Coast right on up to, quite honestly, now. When I was fourteen I became interested in the portraiture of people, both of myself and those I found to be fascinating and lovely; I'd been taking photographs two years previous for my middle school journalism teacher, both for the school paper and for a website that he ran. I was probably one of the only twelve-year-olds running around with several grand's worth of equiptment and getting paid for it. But when started high school I hadn't the time to photograph animals and plants, so I stopped working with such fantastic gear and was handed a grainy point-and-shoot, with which I started documenting people, primarily myself. I think in a way it was a way to immortalize emotions for me, a way to remind myself of times that I so easily forget, or worse, try to push away.
I took the above photo when I was fourteen, around the Spring of my Freshman year. I wanted pictures of me, but I didn't want to ask people to take them; I felt silly asking to "model" for anyone, and didn't want the classic arm's length MySpace photos that so many girls my age had. Besides, at that point in my life I had maybe two friends to my name, and while one of them was a photographer I didn't want to ask her to take my picture for her projects. I thought, again, that it would be silly and that no one other than me would want a picture of me.
I kept a camera on me practically 24/7 back then. Whenever I felt any strong emotion, or saw something that I felt deserved photographing, I would whip out my tiny, pathetic, dink little P&S and snap a picture. I took this photo around five am in my bed; I remember I had been fighting with a girl from my school and had stayed up crying as quietly as I could so I wouldn't wake mom and have her worry. My cat Toby had curled up next to me the entire night. I took this when I'd calmed down; I'd needed a reminder that there was always a calm after the storm.


Modeling, and photographing people, is something ingrained in me. It's probably my number one source of artistic relief at the moment. The above is probably just senseless rambling. That's okay. I tend to do that a lot. And truthfully, underneath all the artistic integrity, getting a pretty picture now and again is definitely a plus.
I got asked the other day why I model, and why I photograph people. The question really caught me off guard; usually the people I talk to most about both of these things are involved in one or the other themselves; there is never any "why" in why we do it. "It's for the art" a lot of people say; others say it's because of the money that can be made. I can understand both sides, seeing as I've been both in front and behind the camera with the intentions of beautiful artwork, and at times with the knowledge that I will be leaving with much-needed cash. However, neither is why I started; it really made me sit down and think: why?
I find people fascinating. Honestly, despite the fact that I tend to come off as very outgoing and even a bit egotistical, deep down I'm introverted. I have the horrible knack of believing that I annoy people when I try to befriend them. I spent my childhood having only a handful of friends who in the end weren't even that meaningful and battled with a lot of less-than-pleasant emotions from the time I moved back to the East Coast right on up to, quite honestly, now. When I was fourteen I became interested in the portraiture of people, both of myself and those I found to be fascinating and lovely; I'd been taking photographs two years previous for my middle school journalism teacher, both for the school paper and for a website that he ran. I was probably one of the only twelve-year-olds running around with several grand's worth of equiptment and getting paid for it. But when started high school I hadn't the time to photograph animals and plants, so I stopped working with such fantastic gear and was handed a grainy point-and-shoot, with which I started documenting people, primarily myself. I think in a way it was a way to immortalize emotions for me, a way to remind myself of times that I so easily forget, or worse, try to push away.
I took the above photo when I was fourteen, around the Spring of my Freshman year. I wanted pictures of me, but I didn't want to ask people to take them; I felt silly asking to "model" for anyone, and didn't want the classic arm's length MySpace photos that so many girls my age had. Besides, at that point in my life I had maybe two friends to my name, and while one of them was a photographer I didn't want to ask her to take my picture for her projects. I thought, again, that it would be silly and that no one other than me would want a picture of me.I kept a camera on me practically 24/7 back then. Whenever I felt any strong emotion, or saw something that I felt deserved photographing, I would whip out my tiny, pathetic, dink little P&S and snap a picture. I took this photo around five am in my bed; I remember I had been fighting with a girl from my school and had stayed up crying as quietly as I could so I wouldn't wake mom and have her worry. My cat Toby had curled up next to me the entire night. I took this when I'd calmed down; I'd needed a reminder that there was always a calm after the storm.

At the end of my Freshman year I met my best friend. I don't think he has any concept of how much he inspired me to start actually being me. I started taking photos more than ever. I continued to use myself as my main subject.

Modeling, and photographing people, is something ingrained in me. It's probably my number one source of artistic relief at the moment. The above is probably just senseless rambling. That's okay. I tend to do that a lot. And truthfully, underneath all the artistic integrity, getting a pretty picture now and again is definitely a plus.
Hello Blogger.
It dawned on me that blogging on LiveJournal is rather pointless, seeing as the few people who give a damn about what I have to say blog on here and are far too lazy to get an account on LJ in order to follow me. So...I'm making the switch, people. Good God, I do believe this is what they call "conforming." Damnit.
There is a much more thought-provoking post coming soon. This is just an FYI to the Blogger world that yes, I have finally gotten off my lazy ass and actually started using my account here. I promise to update this better than I did my last blog. Well...I'll try, at least.
There is a much more thought-provoking post coming soon. This is just an FYI to the Blogger world that yes, I have finally gotten off my lazy ass and actually started using my account here. I promise to update this better than I did my last blog. Well...I'll try, at least.
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