End of the Year’s Madness

Well it that time of the year when we look back at this year and thank god that’s we survived another one. Survival has been on all our minds this year to a greater extent than any other year before. Even the year of my stroke though I didn’t comprehend how I knew I’d survived and the rest was easy. But last year everything changed for us all in the great economic downturn. The basics of all knew to be true turned out to be true and the fix was in to overturn those basics.
Banks, mortgage company, insurance companies and the auto industry collapsed into a pit of there own shady practices. No it wasn’t the end of the world, those companies deemed "to big to fail" were bailed out by a congress that was ripe with it’s own corruption. The world didn’t end with a bang nor a whimper but a new alinement of power and control over our destinies. In the words of that old Dylan song the times they are a changing. We common men and women are left to pick up the pieces of our lives as best we can and trudge on. It’ll be a long cold hard slog but we can make it if we’re smart enough and determined enough to figure out our way. We must ban together in our communities of like minded souls and protect and defend those we love and care for. We must protect the work we do and the people who work with us against the forces massed against us. This will not be easy or pleasant but we have the power to make it fun.
When I moved to New York I had to lean a new way of thinking, a new way of survival. It too wasn’t easy or pleasant but I made the chore of starting over fun and explored different ways to accomplish my goals. I learned to explore the parameters of my new world and all the wonderful things about it. When I learned to correct myself from going the wrong way for my goals I found satisfaction in the learning. As I learned the physical difference of North and South, East and West I had accomplished something useful. From that one skill I learn to orientate myself to my new environment and the rest was easier to deal with.
For one I’m challenged by the landscape of this new world of our’s and I think it will provide new ways to succeed in life. Only the strongest and most agile of people will find the way to success, that’s the way it’s been forever. The basics haven’t changed that much although we are certainly not at the center of the universe anymore. There are more and bigger challenges facing us, facing our children too but the chances of success outweigh the negatives if you ask me. That’s the way I’m facing the New Year, with hope in the future based on my history of success in the past. We all must be up to the challenges ahead of us and to keep that sense of optimism intact and a sense of humor will help as well. It always seems darker just before the light go out but we can all light a match of hope.

Thea Marie

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Check out http://www.universdartistes.com/ he's written an article about me. Thanks Chris.

The Pleasures of Youth

My model was eighteen at the time these images were taken, a bit younger than I like. I like my model to be of an age that they have a bit better perspective on where there are going and where they’ve been. I feel like the teenage years are spent sowing a lot of wild oats and just finding out who you are let alone getting down to the business of running your life. People this age have a tendency to feel bullet proof and will live forever at least I did. Anyway I found her on line portfolio and we made a connection and eventually we became friends and I care about her very much. She’s currently the ripe old age of twenty three and will be having her first child in just under two months. She looks back on this time of her life with bitter-sweet memories and calls them crazy times.
I had my own crazy times so many years ago when the world was different, less pressure and less knowledge. I worked for a photographer in a one person shop and he started me on my way. The movie "Blow Up" had just come out it was based on the life of David Bailey an English photographer who lived a charmed life. I expected hot and cold running models to come through the studio at any moment. The first month I figured it was a slow month and by the time I figured out that they probably weren’t coming at all I figured out the photographer was going to get them if they did. I maybe slow but I’m not very fast became my mantra from then on.
But it was a good gig for an eighteen year old, I learned to develop E-6 and to print and more importantly I learned to dry prints to a mirror finish. I also learned to clean and to polish the big drum dryer that we had. I also had the run of the studio weekends and night and I used it but sparingly. We had hot-lights at that time and it just got too hot to try anything besides I was interested in life and how it functioned to spend much time in the studio. I was an outdoor shooter and the city was getting involved in HemisFair, the worlds fair that came to our town that year. I was able to get a press pass for the grounds as I was a working photographer at the time. My friend and I both had press passes and we roamed the ground almost at will shooting everything we found of interest. I focused on the people and my friend was more interested in abstracts involving people but not as the focal point.
The added bonus of the press card is that it got us into the Falstaff House where we were able to buy beer. Not being of legal age yet we made use of this privilege on a regular basis. We didn’t abuse that privilege but we use it for all it was worth and then some. There was also a city press club that we got into at night and the bartender was a fabulous lady who liked my friend and me very much and would let us drink undisturbed. One night we brought our lady friends for some drinks and to chat, it was our lucky night and no one was there at the time. The bartender decided to help us along and made the drinks extra strong and the girl I was with got quite tipsy and then I had to get her home and her mother was waiting for us. Not exactly the night I was planning but I got out unscathed.
Like I said it was a unique time of out lives, unspoiled and innocent and the only danger was the usual dangers of youth. I didn’t drink much then and I wasn’t much into the drug scene much either, I was too busy with life. I worked for the local newspaper by then and had a car that was the envy of all who saw it. My company car had flashing lights, police and fire radios and people would get out of the way when I was on the move. The only draw back was people almost certainly had to die so I could get my work on the front page. That was the saddest part of my job, I’d chase accident scenes and plane crashes and then I could count on the front page. If the bleeds it lead was the saying to old timers though a riot was good for space too. I soon learned I wasn’t cut out to be a newspaper man, I had no stomach for death and dismemberment. But I sure loved that car!

Awakening’s

At a stroke
life changed for me.
Gone,
from me was my confidence
my self-reliant nature...,
my life
and in it’s place
questions.
Life began anew
life changed beyond comprehension
though I comprehended only the
arrogance of the un-infirmed
Learning life’s lesson once again
learning to walk
to eat and feed myself
to brush teeth and
learning to wipe myself...
Learning life’s lessons again
who would I be
what would I be
would I like the new me.

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I wrote these words long months into my recovery when Lorraine and I had gone to the coast for a holiday. I didn’t want her trip to be all about my stroke, she remember a strong and independent fellow and it’s was important that she didn’t remember me sick. I admit it was unimportant to her but it meant everything to me. I was still lost in myself trapped in the aftermath of the stroke that had just about ended my life. I was struggling to find myself and trying to figure out who I’d be when I fully recovered, if I fully recovered.
I feel like that question has been answered for me at last, I rather like the new and improved me. The me who’s more relaxed and not quite in as much of a hurry as I once was. The me who has a tolerance set higher than it use to be and is no longer quick to anger or find fault. I’ve grow since my stroke and find a new peace with life and my mortality. Yes there are things I’d change, horizons I’ll no longer strive for, barriers I’ll no longer challenge. I guess in way I’ve passed the torch to a new generation as I chart a new direction for my life and my passions. It’s hard to take that step as much as it seems inevitable, a step many of us face some with more grace than others.
I refuse to act my age however, I’ll keep being my youthful playful self though others may not readily see that side of me. I’ll keep my love of life and my love for women intact and operational. I’ll still capture the beauty and special grace of my subjects and attempt to show their humanity. I "will not go gentle into that good night".
Dylan Thomas

I shot Santa..,

repeatedly, the elves were harder to get because they were kids! Last night I was shooting a Christmas party for my clients and there were a lot of kids of all ages. One tiny little girl was all freaked out because her mom stepped away for a moment and Frosty and a Gingerbread Man were too much for her to handle by herself. She decided to hide behind me which kind of freaked me out but I was saved by a pretty little elf who started talking with her about her dress and how pretty it was. I was pretty impressed by the elf and her boundless energy and the way she interacted with each of the kids no matter their age or sex.
It was a fun party for the employees of a major tourist destination here in the city, they work hard all year round and this was a thank you for all their hard work. It was a family affair complete with a buffet, cheese and cold cuts and a open bar for all to enjoy. And then there was Santa and Mrs. Claus and several of their best elves to guide thing along. We had Santa for an hour and the line-up was tremendous. The kids and their parents line the walls after the big rush by to kids to mob Santa until Mrs. Claus got everyone to line-up sort of in order. But kids are kids and they’ll go anywhere they please while I was trying to compose and shoot who was in Santa lap giving him their wish-list of goodies.
In short it was a real mob scene with parents and their cousins trying to take picture as I was fighting to get the kids attention while the parents were snapping away. Finally I just wait patiently while the parents got their shots then I could do mine and not have the kids looking anywhere but at the camera. Santa became my friend and I gave him the thumbs-up when I got my shot or I’d give him the thumbs-up when he rearrange his hat or beard. We got to be a pretty good team and I rewarded him by getting pretty young girls to sit in his lap too. By the time the rush was over the elves had things pretty much under control except for the kids who wander back into the shot or adult who didn’t know what to do and I got them in the shot as well. Then we got to the silly part were the adults wanted their picture with Santa as well. But by that time I knew we were getting close to the end and Santa was trying to escape.
Now remember, I’m a traditionalist, I still shoot real film and get it scanned to disk from the negatives. So I’m trying to keep a eye on the film count and watching the action to see when it best to reload. I also had a helper who was taking names and I had to give her a count of what roll I was on so she’d have a idea who was who when she was doing the prints. Yes I could have had the prints made when I got the film developed but I didn’t because I didn’t have the budget and I had gotten overall shots of the festivities for there records. I expect to see my shots turn up on the web next year sometime.
I know my client real well and know what she looking for and the shots she might need and I keep that in the back of my head when I’m shooting for her. We’ve had a working relationship for about five years now. I photographed her kid when she was about three or four and I feel like I’m part of the family now. Her girl is a precocious eight years old and is a real reader. I’m encouraging her by giving her books for her birthdays which I’m invited to. That’s one of the pleasures of my work getting to know people so well that I blend in and mesh with them real well. That’s the way I’ve survived since my stroke by having good friends who haven’t forgotten about me and are willing to give me work when they can. They also tell me about other work that I can go after and use them as a connection and a reference. It’s so nice to have friends who are well connected when you are in my position and trying to get back on your feet again. These people saw me limping about on my cane and they didn’t count me out. It’s a hard business to get people to remember your name for three week not to mention the three years I’ve been out of the business. People count in this business and people remember who did them favors and remember who was kind to them or there kids.

Am I Blue

I went for a drive down memory lane, I went to the old neighborhood that I can first remember as being mine. Like everyone taking this trip the hills aren’t as big, the street not as long, the schools not as spacious as remembered in the minds eye. But the memories are still bigger than life and still cause as much remembered pain as they once did. Remembered is a much different and colorful landscape than the drab appearance of the one before me. I can understand what make me the unique individual I am now, I can see where I got it from. I could see my history unfold before me, see my life pass before me as I drove the streets I once walked as a child.

I can see my parent as the people they were with all their flaws and imperfection intact, with all their hopes and dreams and their disappointments too. In the end we are just people trying to do the best we can for ourselves and for our children. But a real life hangs in the balance of the reality of the two adults, a budding reality. Life doesn’t often turn out the way we want but the way it will. A child moves through these reality’s buffeted by the environment around that child.

I could give you all the gory details of love deigned by a father in name only or a mother with too much zeal for a better life. But why bother it’s a life that’s not unique in the least. What is unique is the way(s) I responded to the challenges of my reality. I became a chameleon changing colors or temperaments as required depending on the prevailing emotional winds. I was raised to be a polite child to do unto to other as I would like them to do unto me. Needless to say I was raised a Catholic and I’m still trying to recover. Although never abused by the church I was never the less inflicted by their own realities. I went to church and confession regularly and had so few sins I had to borrow from my classmates. Early on I learn the rules and what the caveats were, a sin was only a sin if you enjoyed yourself. Or that the lay teachers could be deranged as anyone with their punishments. In grade five I found out that heaven was only for Catholics, there was no saving a good Jew or Baptist. Or that punishment held it’s effectiveness only if you let it, if I was going to be punished for any infractions anyway’s why do the punishment at all. There was always the library and the wonderful books that led me to a world I could escape into.
That was also the year my parents decided to divorce and I had to leave school anyway, you couldn’t be the son of a fallen woman. But I didn’t realize any of that I just knew that it meant a new school and new friends and a new library to explore. Coincidentally it meant that my grade would improve because I was challenged to learn more and was given much greater latitude in that learning. In the new school I also fell in love for the first time and my warped little mind was so confused that I couldn’t think straight. It wasn’t the last time either I’m pleased to say there were many times I couldn’t think straight as I grew into me.

I’ve always loved women and all the different facets of them. As a child I was always the friend, the best buddy to whom they could speak to as an equal. Not the leading man but the supporting actor who could be relied upon for that support and understanding. As much as I resented it as a young male I also learned to treasure my special relationship with the female gender. I learned from my experiences the intricacies of the female mind and their thought processes. Though hardly an expert I cultivated my role and approached the more interesting females around me and that led me naturally into photography. Notice I said the more interesting and not the most beautiful or sought after but the most unique females I could find. Girls who had a personality that intrigued me that challenged me to find out more about them and how they saw the world around them. And for better or worse that’s part of what makes Me.

The point to all of this it that this marks three years since I was released from the hospital after my stroke. My stroke has cause me to do a lot of introspection, examinations of my life for purpose and history. To see where all the skeletons are buried and to exhume them and find peace with them..., or try to. It’s passed time for this introspection, for this too shall pass moment in my life. I am really grateful for the life given to me and I hold it precious. While I wish my history were better and me a better person I’m content to be where I am now. I look forward to facing the challenges that face me, that face us all in these economic times. Here’s to the future, may it be as bright as our dreams.

Bodyscape

I absolute love shooting bodyscapes of my models. I love the contours, the hills and valleys in landscapes. I find through my lens a wonder world of shapes and gentle curves. Often when I’m working with a model she asks what I’m shooting, I’ll say a portrait then she’ll ask way an I nude? And I explain I’m studying her body, seeing the way it moves, the way it tenses up and then relaxes. I usually save the bodyscapes for the last then I give my models a glass of wine and I start to play.
Watching the way their body moves during the shoot is key to my methods. I’ll sit back when were shooting and some pose will seem awkward or forced, give me something new I’ll say. I won’t say what then I get the chance to watch them create a new look or feel and the body will move. I watch the play of light over them and maybe if I’m lucky I’ll find something worth a visit later. I’m not doing it as a voyeur and they know this by now. Instead I’m looking as an artist trying to figure out what there is to find.
Once an old girlfriend of mine was against my shoot nude of other girls. I had some film that I wanted to try out and see what it would give me. I told her it would be that about fifteen/twenty minutes and she got nude really fast. I was finished two hours later and as she was getting dressed she told me I could shoot all the nude I wanted. Not wanting to look a gift-horse in the mouth I asked her why. Because you weren’t look at me as a woman she replied. I started thinking and I told her no I was looking at how the light was falling on you and shape and angles. Yeah she replied you can shoot all the nude you want.
Yes that’s what I look for the light and shape and angles and sometimes what a lucky young man I am. Other time I don’t see it until I look at the finished work and then I realize how lucky I am to do what I do. There’s not really anything sexual in what my model and I create. It’s not hum-drum work mind you but we get to laughing sometime at the absurdity of it all. We’re busy creating an illusion, a fantasy of the woman and we’re having a great time playing at that fantasy. That’s the most fun I’ve had since sex people have told me, no muss or fuss. That is the way it suppose to be, you’re both there to create some beautiful art and to build up some trust so you can have a better time next time.
Some people get all caught up in the sexual nature of the beast and that’s not good or even fair. When a model places herself in that position it’s because she trust you. She trust you to create beautiful work that she has invested in with her time, body and talent. It’s hard for some men to see that and to respect that kind of commitment and not to think that something must have happened. From what I hear it’s hard for some photographer to not take advantage of the power that willingly place in there hands. I’ve always thought of it kind of like Stockholm Syndrom where someone does things that are so out of character for them because they are under the influence of the magic. And it seems magical to me, to have the model so relaxed and comfortable that she can start talking about anything that comes into her mind while I’m shooting and exploring her. While I’m allow to chart the territory that is her physical space and state of mind.

Dove

There has been some talk recently about the virtues of photoshop and the idea of manipulating images. The buzz is that the Dove campaign was doctored by a photoshop expert to smooth out the lumps some models had. The point being that Dove’s real women weren’t really real. Then there’s the case of Jamie Lee Curtis being photographed in glorious reality with all her flaws and imperfections on display. Also Katie Couric and the controversy of her doctored images CBS put out in a promo piece her. I’m wondering what the implications are on our young women and their self-esteem.
Looking back on the young women I’ve photographed over the course of my lifetime the ideas of beauty have changed dramatically. The women I shot were never consider Rubenesque but healthy and full of life. There is such pressure on young women today to meet some concept of beauty and health that are unbelievable. I believe that photoshop has added to that pressure and the unobtainable concepts that were forcing our young and not so young women.
Models in there thirties are telling me that they feel old and fat and that no one refers to them as cute anymore. These are healthy young women who are not over weight or have beer bellies. They’re just women who are growing into maturity and have maturing bodies and minds. They is a big difference between humans of twenty and thirty year of age. At twenty were are still a work in progress, we have boundless energy and stamina on our side and little else. At thirty we are far from old but we have a better idea of who we are and time has worked on those hard edges of ours. Looking back on my own life I feel as though I hadn’t yet grown into the man I’ve become. At thirty-five I began to have a idea of what I wanted for the long term, what I would and wouldn’t put up with to get there. It was a time of rebirth or refocus for me..., I finally had a concept of myself as me.
So back to the point which is what are we doing to young people these days? What incredible impossible ideas and values are we forcing the young to grow up with and believe in. We have young people today who are literally dying for our
idea’s of perfection that our photo’s help to create. Don’t we own the responsibility for our images of perfection that won’t abide wrinkles and stretch marks and the occasional blemish or other imperfection that make use beautiful to ourselves and other. I don’t know about anyone else but me and I’m proud when I look in the mirror and see myself in all my imperfect glory and wonder which wrinkle I got from too much partying and which came from too much worrying. I look at the road-map of my face and I see all the hard work it took to get me to this age and all the lumps I had to take to get here and to stay here. I see the life well lived and the love and losses I’ve suffered that make me..., me.

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This image is of a healthy thirty-something year old I finally got into my bed. No I wasn’t with her at the same time but it got your attention. This is from my bodyscapes series and is no pshop work beside my copyright. If she has stretch marks or any other imperfections I’m perfectly fine with them.

The Belt

OK, OK, I know that the belt thing has been shot to death now. In my defense the last time I played with this theme was 2004 or there about’s. I use it to make a point with my image and not for some easy ploy. It was used in part to provide a modesty shield for my model and to provide a jumping off point for the eye. By using the belt the buckle draws your eye’s into the image, then down the belt to the fingers that hide or shield a greater treasure. At least that’s my story and I’m going to stick to it.
Notice the way the finger curve in a protective way and the well manicured patch of pubic hair all add to the tension of the shot. Leave you wanting more.., more information about the model and just what’s hiding behind those curved fingers. That’s IMO the aim of erotic photography, the hint of the treasure and the story line that goes with it. I mean that’s my opinion and people are free to disagree with me and I know a lot will. To my way of thinking there’s nothing to those graphic shots that are wide open and every pore is exposed to our view. Erotic photography like writing should be filled with nuance and should let your imagination run wild. Come to think of it that the mark of great cinema too, your imagination should be given a chance to fill in the details and create your own story. Again, that just my opinion, that and fifty cents will buy me a newspaper unless it’s Sunday.
The story behind this image is the model who posed for me had finally developed trust in me and my images. This was our second shoot together and this one was way out in the middle of nowhere. I had asked her permission to focus on this area and that really took a lot of trust on her end of things. I was kneeling down and shooting and I asked her to bend these finger like so and when she didn’t get it I reached out and touched her fingers. Well she liked to jump a mile because she wasn’t sure who was touching her but she sure as hell knew someone did. Still kneeling there I looked up at her and told her I would never touch her like that and that I only touched her fingers to get those three curved. Of course she relaxed and let me shoot some more and listened to instructions better.
I then ask her to squat down with me and she got really ify with me. I asked her to at least let me shoot a polaroid of what I wanted and explained how the lighting was working. The sun was low on the horizon and I knew her leg would cause a shadow to fall over her pubic area. When I showed her the polaroid she smiled and said OK. I explained that I wasn’t sure what I was getting, we’d only know for sure when we got film back and she was OK with that. Long story short when I got the contacts back that area was a touch too light and I darkened it down in the printing. And I told her so when I gave her prints and got the model release signed.
The moral of this story is it shows how closely model and photographer work and trust is a big issue. I live and work by the golden rule of respecting my models and never betraying that trust. I always keep in mind that they are there to do a job and I’m there to do a job as well. Never but never touch a model without asking permission and talk is not cheap but goes a long way toward building that trust that is so important. In all my years of working with young women I’ve never had a complaint or any problems arising from the way I shoot. I’ve always treated my models to the gold standard in shooting and I’ve never regretted it. Lot’s of people have asked me over the years aren’t you afraid of a sexual harassment charge. I’ve got to say no, all my girls know of each other and have the emails for each other. They create my safety net and my best defense against’s any miss understandings.

Larry

My friend Larry Rothwell passed away after a battle with liver cancer Saturday night. Larry was a singer/songwriter in Austin and loved the life he live. A life long bachelor until almost the end on Sunday he married in spirit his love Phebe . Larry’s latest CD was Sack O Songs and he was busy working on a new CD when cancer interrupted his plans. Originally from Colorado he moved to Austin and continued playing in a variety of bands and was passionate about his music. His music and his presence will be missed around the farm where he lived out his life.

Once I had a young model out at the farm and we’d been doing sone nude at the milk barn and then down at the family cemetery. I told her I wasn’t sure how many people were going to be there but not to worry in that case she wouldn’t be getting nude. There was no way I was having her put on a show for anybody and if there was anybody around we’d have something to eat then try again another day. But no one was outside and we had a lovely shoot and used quite a lot of the background that the farm has. After we finished we came up to the complex of housing that make up the farm. Larry and his friend Chuck had been into some very nice "white lightning" they’d gotten from some where’s and they were feeling very joyful. When I introduced them to my model they were very gentlemanly, almost courtly. They could appreciate having a pretty, young coed around the property.

We’ve all lost a very good friend and a very decent man. I love you very much Larry and I’ll miss your company.

New York II

My other life long friend I met in NYC was John Osborne and his wonderful family. John worked for New York Telephone and had such wonderful budgets and was able to send me around New York state to cover conventions for him. He also was responsible for putting on charity event around the state and in the city. I was lucky enough to visit with some great kids that he was investing in programs for their schools. One such program was high school artists who were having their art shown it the lobby of his building in Manhattan. These kids were from disadvantaged schools in the Burroughs of New York.
When I walked in they were wide eyed at the attention they were getting for the art they had created. Of course as teenagers they were wary of showing how pleased they were, they didn’t want to seem uncool. I of course told them to act normal and to go about their art work as they normally would while I took their pictures. Then I set about capturing them and interacting with them and playing with some until they relaxed and I could shoot them without notice. This was one of the great joys of working with John, he gave me the opportunity of seeing real New Yorkers in their habitat. Going about their daily lives and to capture small vignettes it for shows we did in the lobby.
I also had the great opportunity to drive the back roads of New York state going about my business and I could stop if I saw something of interest. This image is a small churchyard on the way to Cooperstown for a convention at the Otesaga Hotel which is on landmark registry. I had shot a clown we used and we had life sized cutouts made to guide the convention guests to the various event. It was wonderful see my work being enjoyed in the venue it was created for.
I was also lucky enough to be considered a member of the family and was invited for all the holidays and some evenings of social fun and dinner. It was the closest I came to having a family while in New York. I got to know and enjoy their two kids very well and I loved talking with them and watching them grow up. They became part of my extended family and I grew to love them very much. The kids (a boy and a girl) were involved with the usual school plays and were getting voice lessons as well and took the work very seriously. They began to be concerned with what plays and singing competitions they were getting into and that gave me pause.
These children were getting involved at a young age in the rat-race that was New York. Involved with the same rat-race that I was in looking at with a growing dismay. I saw in them the same struggles and issues that had begun to dominate my life. New York is a very expensive city to live in, you need to know where your next paycheck is coming from and how soon. It consumes your every waking moment and you’re always’s on the hustle for new opportunities. I wasn’t sure it was worth the struggles anymore nor the toll it was taking in my personal life.
When John mentioned he was taking a buy-out offered by the company I saw my time in New York at an end. I went about making plans to return home and to use all the skill I had learned over the past five years. John and I have remained close friends and still work together on different shoots that crop up and he still has wonderful budgets.

New York

I was forty years old when I moved to The City. It was in response to a long and frustrating year for me. Excruciatingly slow, all my contacts had just gone quiet and there was no work. My private life was in turmoil as well and I just didn’t know which way to turn. So I packed my life away and faced the great unknowns of New York City and began the greatest adventure of my life.
Luckily I had a place to stay for three week and in those weeks I had to find employment and a place to call home. I had a contact with Pete Turners studio who’d show me the ropes and would help in finding jobs for me. But the onuses was on me and my fondness for survival. That first year in the City I wore out three pairs of running shoes looking for work. Work was much easier to find than a place to live but both were in short supply. Eventually fate led me to James McLoughlin who had a beautiful studio on West 24th Street.
Jim is an extraordinary photographer and a friend who really helped me make my way through the complex ways of business and the art of photography. He was a hard man at times but generous with his knowledge and equipment. He encouraged all his assistants to use the studio and his equipment to the fullest extent to get the benefit of their time with him. I learn a great deal from working with him and sharing my images with him. The greatest compliment any photographer can get is to have a mentor say he wished he’d shot that and I received that compliment with pride.
In his studio I learned to use reflectors and gobos for there maximum effect. I learned to sculpt my light to where it was needed and to take it from where it was not. All the tricks I had learn combined to give my work a finished look and then some. I had a chance to experiment and to invite people to play and have a good time and learn something in the bargain. I had the chance to earn good money and to impress a lot of people with the studio. I am forever grateful for that opportunity and the man who made that all possible.
I had a summer of Danish girls who came to pose for me. They were very open with me and treated their body’s like extensions of themselves. I remember waiting while a polaroid developed and watching one girl pressing her clothes while wearing just her panties. I told myself she’s just a girl with beautiful breast, you’ve seen breast before. Which was true but it had been a long time since I’d seen someone build on such a grand scale and I was very impressed. But the reality was we were there to do a job and not for my personal enjoyment. She was so open because of her upbringing and her trust in me. And that trust was something I couldn’t and wouldn’t violate but that didn’t preclude me from enjoying myself.
This is Susannah also from my Danish Summer who wasn’t quite as open but she sure put up with a lot. She had a pretty severe look, very Germanic and hard but a joy to work with. I softened her look believe it or not but I never could get her to smile on camera. She drove the hardest bargain when we got to dividing up the film at the end but I was pleased with the way she turned out. I feel like she’s a great example of my lighting and my skill as a photographer.

Play

I like to bring a sense of play and adventure to my shoots. I give my models a basic outline of what I’m considering shooting but I stress that my shooting is personality based. I think I’m good at that and that’s why I can occasional get that perfectly spontaneous look and feel to my shoots. Working with a nude the first time is such a grab bag of possibilities. I like for my models to feel free to experiment with different looks and emotions. It’s important to me that they feel comfortable and safe to just down right play and get silly if they want. Like I say, my photography is so keenly aware of the models personality and her moods. I like that. Some people disagree and want there models as props in the shoot. I think it depends on the personality of the photographer and where his or her mind is at.
I also don’t mind too much when my model is running late and that’s a big change for me. I used to get really upset with models for being late as I didn’t figure it showed the proper respect for me or the shoot. Since my stroke I’ve become more aware of how much I depend on them to share their time with me that I’m easy now. My friend Rachel was pretty late for our shoot, she did call and tell me that she and her boyfriend were hanging a door and that she would be late but she’d be there. So I patiently waited for her and played on the computer for awhile until she came. I kept in my mind that she wasn’t getting paid for the shoot she was interested enough to volunteer her time and interest. True I had wine and some food for her after and a percentage of any sales. But there was nothing of a monetary reward for her for giving up her afternoon.
So you have to be reasonable about things, people get busy and people have there lives to live and I’m just a small part of that life. I think back to the New York phase of my life and how I was. I was always rushing about trying to get things done in as efficient a manner as possible. I guess I got caught up in the rat race that is part and parcel of living in the city. But once the girl got there I was calm and relaxed and a pleasure to work with. I mean here I was in the big city in a gorgeous studio with a live girl posing for me. It was the realization of a dream, my dream and I had all the tool necessary for me to do a competent job. The knowledge too, I had the knowledge to realize what I was doing with my lights and reflectors and my black card sto sculpture my light. It was everything I had dreamed about, how far I’ve come now from those times.
I work by natural light now with the help of reflectors and my trusty light meter. I’ve stripped away all of the hardware now and it’s like flying by the seat of my pants. The look has changed or rather evolved to a different me now. Less complex and more accommodating to time and circumstance. Though I don’t make the money I’m use to I’m happier now building a new career for me. One day I expect to get back to an easier time of it but for now I’m so content and you can’t buy that contentment.

Man Against the Elements

Today is the third anniversary of my stroke and marks my semi-return to life as I knew it. Not quite like my life before but it’s closer than was expected of me considering how badly the stroke affected me. My right side still has some lingering effects of paralysis and is worst when I’m tried or stressed. In the middle of the night or in the dark really my hand curls up in that palsied state that I knew only too well. My typing has improved as well as my stamina but I still find it hard to hold my hand up off the keys so I type a lot of JJJJJJJJJJJJ’s and KKKKKKKKKK’s with the occasional LLLLLLLLLL’s to lighten up the load. Thank god for Spell Check and Thesaurus to help me out. I continue to search my mind for the words I want to use and the meaning of some words. So the Thesaurus is especially helpful as well as the Dictionary to check out those difficult words I like to use. Never could spell them and had to look them up but you know I can’t help to feel blessed.
My life now is not as complicated as before, I’ve managed to find a new peace with my life and with my demons. I’m not in a hurry as much and have a new tolerance for people that was lacking in the old me. Never one to tolerate stupidity in anyone I’ve come to view it differently. In many cases it’s the result of an injury to the brain, connections that don’t work quite as well as mine. And in many cases it’s just that they have a congenital defect that isn’t working. I’ve realized that many people don’t have the same drive that I do or the same sense of adventure that has served me so well in my life. It seems that I’ve been preparing for some disaster to befall me and I’ve squirreled away knowledge like some juicy nut.
At any rate I am content with my life, there are things I want but don’t have but I can work towards them. I have my health and my mind and that’s the best of all worlds. I can turn my attention towards a better life for me and the people I know and trust. I don’t have a lot of extraneous friends but that means a cleaner landscape for the one’s I do. I am basically content and how many people can say that!

Stand Alone

I want to talk a bit about therapy not the kind you get in the hospital but in real life. As I said in a previous post get back to a normal life as soon as you can, just going through the motions helps your brain and body remember past movement. Don’t just sit there staring at the TV set do the things you used to enjoy like showering for one. It’s great therapy and your brain and body remember that well, use both hands to wash and scrub yourself but make sure you have installed a grab bar for support. Cooking, I enjoyed cooking up my own meals and I especially enjoyed making chicken stock for soups. Typing is good therapy too you need hand eye coordination and a repetitive motion and typing is good for you.
When I got out of the hospital my hand and brain didn’t work too well together. At first I was at loose ends because I just was focused on the skills I had lost and wondering when I’d get them back or would I even get them back. I was on an emotional roller-coaster reaching dizzying heights and down to the depths of despair. And the only relief I could get was in doing the exercises I was getting but that was now gone. So I had a lot of time to think and wonder and worry about my future and present. I was lucky enough that Lorri invited me to come stay with her awhile and time to heal without the pressure of everyday life. Little by little I got myself back into the rhythm of life again. I’d help her in the garden just carrying and emptying the buckets of weeds from the flower beds. Then I began raking the leaves in the small yard first. Then as I recovered more strength I began raking the leaves in the much larger back yard. I’d rake a small portion then sit and rest and get my strength back then rake some more then sit. Finally I got the whole backyard clear and I felt so good. Climbing the stairs was good for me too, there were two flight of stairs up from my room to the rest of the house. I had to climb those damn things four/five time a day but little by little the pain in my buttocks eased.
When I returned I started climbing the stair in my house, ten repetitions every day. Ditto when I went somewhere that had stairs until I got to the point that my leg remember climbing. No it’s not easy at first..., at firsts you feel like you are doing more harm than good but keep at it. It’s a good hurt and in the end you’ll feel more like yourself and so you’ll go on to try more things you used to do. Also don’t forget the internet, the internet is great practice for you brain connecting those memories and muscles in a new/old way. That’s what you have to do is to reconnect those pathways in your brain again. As I’ve said the stroke was like a landslide in my brain. It destroyed the familiar pathways I’d always use to get me though my life. The blockage was too big to blowup so I had to find a path around the blockage to get my life back. My arm and leg weren’t damaged they knew I could move but I wasn’t able to get the signal to them now. The muscles had atrophied in the months I was in recuperating and the only way to get them back was to use them again, remember that old saying use it or lose it? Well I had lost quite a bit and I had to start over and the first thing I had to exercise was my brain. I had to devise a plan to get my brain connected to my body again and I was kind of on my own to figure out what the next step was. Sure the therapy I received was great as far as it when but now I was on my own and that was much harder. But anything worth do is worth doing well and I kept that foremost in my mind. The other thing I kept trying to remember is to persevere that’s key to any recovery or any success. Keep trying no matter how difficult no matter how much pain it causes you. It the only way left..., never give up.

Rachel

This is Rachel a girl I shot a few months back, she came to me by way of a fellow photographer. She’s a sweet lovely girl who has some high goals in life and has taken control of her life and her future. As is my custom we met for coffee first and had a chance to get acquainted. I worked with her schedule and we got together one Sunday afternoon. She was only my second model since my stroke and we worked together quite well. Again I didn’t want any undue pressure on me while I reacquainted myself with shooting someone nude. I made her familiar with my stroke so she knew I worked slowly and a little stiffly.
But the session worked quite well and I didn’t have as hard a time moving and squatting as in the past. I worked with a reflector and remember to adjust it as the light changed or her pose did. I finally got to work with a chair I had acquired just days before my stroke. We worked with my transparent dress first to get some quiet poses with her both looking at the camera and away. Classic portraits in B&W and some color. That’s the way I work, I use the B&W’s as my sketch pad before I bring out the color. I fine tune it and get a shot(s) that I’m comfortable with then redo it in color and work it a bit more. I think this is the best way for me to work, slow easy and deliberate. Some may differ but I think it’s a matter of personal preference. It give me and the model a chance to bring ideas out, I never hurry my models and let them get a feel for the pose. I have an idea of what I want to capture but it’s that give and take that helps me capture something special.
I want for my models to have something they can use in their books or show to friends. After all it’s a two way street I figure and too many girls have their books filled with nudes and nothing that capture their personalities. Again that’s personal preference on my part. Maybe it’s being older and letting the girls settle in and get comfortable before moving in for the kill. So then we did some nudes, pay-dirt! I got really comfortable with my shooting and handling the camera. We picked up the pace and everything seemed to just flow. The pacing was just right and I didn’t have to wonder if Rachel would catch on to what I was aiming for or trying, she worked really well. I shot some polaroids to show her what I was getting and what I was looking for. We started working on the floor and that’s when I really hit my stride creatively. We got just what I was looking for and then some, that’s the beauty of working with someone who understands the creative mind. We just filled the time with play and having fun. Then she called her boyfriend to pick her up and we had the polaroids to show him what we’d been up to. A perfect end to the day!

Obama

I’ve been smiling since the overwhelming election of Obama. I find it hard to believe that he was allowed to succeed; now the hard work begins for all of us. We’ve realized that we are not alone, our actions affect the world at large as other’s actions affect us. Our country is no longer a nation in isolation rather just a neighborhood in the world of nations. Now our leaders have to take the high difficult road to a new understanding. The world must confront the economy, global warming, transportation and the wars as we move into the future united at last. No longer can we afford to look at the world through the narrow perspectives of our own self-interest.
Somber words from Obama in his acceptance speech before the nation. But words are not enough only real painful actions are necessary at this point. We can’t allow the jubilation of the election take our eyes off the problems we face. Little attention was paid in the election by both party’s and they both continued with their empty promises of massive government spending and a return to the golden days. Well the election is over and now our problems have come home to roost. We are broke as a nation and our credit has been cut off because as a nation we are overextended. Somber words indeed when you contemplate the difficulties we and our children face. I don’t mean to take the shine off anyone or to pee on anyone’s parade but we need to face reality.
Our nation, our world must begin to pull together for a common good. To paraphrase a famous quote, a world divided again itself can not long endure. We must take this second chance to lift all nations, to fix the problems that we can and work on the one’s that will take longer. The world was on our side after September Eleven as in no other time in history. It’s going to be a long hard slog in some very tricky territory but united we can begin to make a difference.

Watermelon Girl

Another show I was in was Plate and Platters held in conjunction with Fotoseptembre. Each piece for the show had to include a plate somehow that was left up to the imagination of each artist. Mine was shot in Austin with Thea Marie as my model and it went pretty well. It turned out to be a really classic piece with her demurely eating the melon. I had originally envisioned the model getting all messy’s with juice running down everywhere. In reality my model had things to do later and there were no facilities where she could clean up. So much for art imitating life!
That’s the thing to remember that the girls who get paid for the gig’s are paid for what you hire them to do. When working with a photographer for the art’s sake they get more of a say in what they’ll do. But it all works out for the best, sometimes you’re lucky to get an image that’s very classical in feel. So though you imagination runs wild with you it bumps up against the reality of things. Most time I’m working with models who’ll work for a percentage of the sales rather than get outright paid. Some agree to model for the sake of art and to get something different in their portfolios. Some do it for the sake of being in front of a camera and the feeling of adoration is worth the trouble. A growing number are professionals and bring a certain talent and skill set to the shoot and they are well worth the pay for that talent.
Which ever kind your lucky enough to get treat them right and they will do their best to see that you get the art you want. The wonderful thing about working with a professional is that you can get to the vision from the get go. No warm up time, no waiting for them to relax and get used to the camera and you. They have the talent and skills to begin working on the shoot you envisioned. You’re never wondering if and when they’ll show up or if they’ll be in the proper mood. They can draw on their experiences to enhance a pose or a movement. Funny how you’re shooting stills but the model’s movement is so important. A good model makes your life so easy but don’t fall into the trap of letting her do the work. Work with the model in realizing your vision and interpreting it. See what she brings to the shoot and then refine it into something that’s closer to your vision. Remember lack of vision can be as devastating to a photographer as to a president.

Androgynous

I’d like to explain what I was going for in this image and what I was thinking. First and foremost the model was twenty four years old and I have her permission as well as a models release. She’s not a professional model and she receives a percentage of sales hence her permission. Personally I prefer my models to be at least twenty four or older so they can think clearly about repercussions that may come later on in life. That said if I find a model who’s eighteen and has a lot of nudes in her book and is trying to break into modeling circles I will work with her but again I ask permission to use certain images even though I get a models release. I feel like a lot of models don’t think down the road a few years in time and my images might cause them some troubles, the same is true for older models too.
So I was looking for a model who was comfortable with this kind of intimacy. I was also looking for a girl who’d knew that it was art and I had a statement that I was trying to make. I needed a model who was androgynous enough that the subject wouldn’t interfere with my vision. In other words someone with a compact little package and not someone who was voluptuous of build and stature. I also needed someone who had a playful nature and I could ask to try a variety of possibilities in hair styles. In the end this image was the result of my imagination and vision.
The final product was harder that I had envisioned, finding a printer locally was tough. I went to no less than three labs and the answer was the same, they were unwilling to print it because they were afraid of the content. No question that it was art. No question that they were afraid. I finally found a printer who agreed but wanted to be off the hook if anything happened. Now all the labs and the owners knew me and knew that I wasn’t into child porn. My framer also knew me but the women in the frame shop were mortified to have it in the shop. I had two prints made and framed differently, the first was white metal and it looked so cool. The second was framed the way I had envisioned it in a burnished silver frame that matched the tone and the mood. I took both to the printer and show him the white one first and there was as audible gasp from him. Before he could say anything I showed him the second telling him that this was the way I saw it in my mind and he was struck speechless.
So this was my entry in the Erotic show in Austin. Amid all the art that was presented this was the purest piece that was there and by purest I mean not graphic. I don’t have a problem with graphic but that doesn’t seem erotic to me. Just my opinion.

http://www.gallerylombardi.com/exhibits/00510eexhibit.html

The Plan

The last show I was in was at the Gallery Lombardi in Austin, Texas. It was the Erotica 2005 and was held in October of that year, six days after it ended I had my stroke. Funny how your perspectives’s can change overnight, mine certainly did. The show was a real blowout, there’s were people everywhere and several of my friend and my model were in attendance. Amy the body painter was doing a live demonstration of her art and she had quite the crowd. Maybe it had something to do with the nude model she was painting. Anyway it was a very festive night and after my model and I went for a long walk and a good talk. Then I said goodnight and I drove back to my world.
Six days later I was in the fight of my life and all thought of the art world and marketing was superfluous. I had a good ride up until then, I was marketing myself to the local art centers and getting quite well know. I had decided that I was getting too old for event photography and had started to transition into the fine art field. I worked for the Blue Star Contemporary Art as there event guy and documented what they were doing in art and the community. That in turn introduced me to and number of artist and collectors. My plans for the future were coming along nicely and I was carefully following that plan and making adjustment as I went along.
I had two shows that my work was entered in the Art and Eats fund raiser for Blue Star and that piece sold. As well as another fund raiser for a Tourism group that I belong to so my work was beginning to move however slightly. That was my problem in having the stroke, all forward momentum stopped for two years. I also lost my business as well because I disappeared for that amount of time. In business your lucky if people remember your name after two weeks and I was gone a lot longer than that.
So I was facing some major hurtles trying to get my business started again. I was incredibility rusty and out of practice. I had lost not only my sense of timing and pacing, I has also lost my confidence as well. That was why it was so important to have the first session go well and to be low pressure. I was trying to find myself again, to find out if I could do the work I loved and believe me that was pressure enough. But to make a long story short because I wanted it bad enough I found my "groove" again. I have been incredibility lucky in the models and friends who supported me and believed in me. I have been blessed with an indomitable spirt to survive and to get back to the life I lived before . If I can be forgiven for one piece of advise it’s to never give up on yourself, never. It amazing what a wonderful thing we human beings are, truly remarkable.

My friends over at What We Saw Today had a post some days ago about smoking. I’m against it though I was a smoker for a time before my stroke. So I guess it’s a typical case of do as I say not do as I do. Tobacco smoking is a nasty dirty habit that does untold damage to the human body not to mention the bodies around it. That said I have use it in my images for affect. Smokers mainly but I’ve been known to ask models who don’t to pretend for the effect it has on the viewer. The young lady above was a smoker and lit up the first time she was in my house so I decided to use her smoking as a prop. Again and again I’d ask her to light up as we worked on this series. Finally she begged off because she was getting dizzy. Then I had the problem of getting all the smoke out of my place.
Another time I was working with a nonsmoker on a series of shots where I had her change panties from white to black to boy’s under-wear till I got her without panties at all. But a small cigar remained in her mouth or hands at all time. But she didn’t inhale and I can testify to that if need be!
The point being that it can be a great prop used to get the effect to convey an emotion or just to subtlety change the viewer point of view. It can also be interpreted as an endorsement of a dangerous habit. The trick is to use it sparingly and not in every photo or it takes on another dynamic entirely. Be sure to go to their blog for the full story and the lovely images.
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This is Leslie my young model friend who how now lives in the land of the frozen North. We had two sessions all told, she and I became good friends and we ended up talking a lot. She share her private life with me once she became confident that I didn’t want anything more than a friendship. Models are funny that way, some don’t want to be friends at any cost. But most are friendly because of the intimate nature of our work together. Most of my girls drop me a line from time to time and we may meet for coffee or lunch occasionally. Also let me make it quite clear that I respect them for the people they are. I may not agree with their lifestyles or life-choices but I respect them. I certainly didn’t like people judging me when I was that age and I try to keep to that line. A few times it didn’t work that way but I can only try. Next time some new stuff I promise.

On My Own

The day Lorri left I had real mixed emotions, fear being one and a feeling of exhilaration. In the last few week I had done all the thing I’d be putting off and I felt ready to making it on my own at last. I was cooking again after a fashion and showering alone. I managed to brush my teeth with the help of an electric toothbrush and more importantly I was getting out shopping again. I was feeling confident in my ability to cope with life for the most part and I knew that time was on my side. I felt my emotions were beginning to subside a bit and I thought I was returning to myself again whoever that was. So I saw Lorraine off at the airport and returned to my life by myself for the first time in about four months.
But I was going though panic attacks as well only I didn’t know I was. On my daily walks through the neighborhood there were dogs running free and I was unsure how to deal with them. One morning we had a bit of rain, enough to wet the streets but not enough to stop my walk. As I rounded the midpoint of my route the smell of the wet pavement hit me and something came over me. Suddenly I began sweating, my arms and legs felt like rubber and I just knew something bad was about to happen. I thought of sitting and resting on the curb but I was convinced that if I sat down I’d never get up again.
This was new and I didn’t know what to do or how to stop it. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and I felt like the air was trapped in my lungs. All I could do was keep walking or call Emergency Services and go to the hospital and have another bill added to the list. In the distance I spotted a bus bench up ahead and doggedly walk on with legs of rubber. Once seated I started trying to figure out what was going on, my hands were shaking and I felt so weak. By instinct I started breathing rhythmically and deeply while I tried to figure what in the smells I had reacted to. In the process I started to feel a little better so I when further down the street to the coffee shop I knew had a better bench. By the time I got there I was feeling less panicked and less shaky but I sat anyways. I realized the breathing was helping and I closed my eyes and concentrate on my breath. Slowly I felt everything returning to normal and I could feel my pulse slow back to a normal rhythm. Finally I pushed it out of my mind and walked on home to the safety of my apartment and forgot about it. I wondered briefly if it was heart related and just part of my condition. That is until about a week later as I rounded the corner to my house, suddenly I was in a panic to quickly get into the house and lock the doors. I made an appointment that day, I needed help figuring out what my problem was all about. Stroke patients are apparently advised to go on a anti-depression medication to help them cope with the travails of their new lives. I had always been proactive with my doctors and with my log of blood pressures I had an edge with talking to her. She knew that I was monitoring myself and not prone to random complaints. So another medication was added and it began to help but first I had to go though hell till it began to work in me. Deep dark feelings of despair and unworthiness, suicide fill my dreams for about a week. I read over the adverse reactions for my medication and realized that was it. But no wonder I don’t like medication and have been skeptical about the safety and efficacy ever since I can remember. But any port in a storm and I was in a maelstrom of emotions with which I couldn’t cope with and I needed the help.
(Part III)

Lorraine

While I recovered and took my therapy my friend Lorraine very graciously came to take care of me. She was a new driver and had gotten her license only the day before she flew in. She not only did the driving she cooked and saw to my needs and care. She monitored my Blood Pressure and she had to watch me while I showered so I didn’t slip and fall. I am very grateful to her for her help and care. I truly was unable to do anything for myself and I don’t know how I could have ever survived without her. I became very dependent on her advice and council in this time. I had developed a real fear of change and became very dependent on my daily routine.
I had three week to fill before I could start therapy at all, the Christmas and New Years holiday had to be survived first. That first day I was out I felt a need to get some things done and Lorri agreed though it was against her better judgement. Three things all told and I could sit in the car for most of them but they exhausted me. I’ve never been so tired in my life even after a long ago case of pneumonia hadn’t exhausted me that bad. Some days we’d walk to the corner store or to the coffee shop so I have time to rest before starting home. Mostly we watched a lot of movies and I noticed a pattern with me. Movies like Robert Redford’s "Bagger Vance" I couldn’t watch without tearing up. First from the sappy nature of the film and then because I was being manipulated. I really resented that and it brought back feelings better left alone. I also found I couldn’t follow English movies or Scottish accents particularly were uncomprehensible to me; and following a complicated story line was way beyond me.
I was on a emotional roller-coaster with upswings and downward plunges that could be breathtaking. I’d have feeling of unworthiness and deep despair and then periods where everything was fine and things were looking up. I tried to cope as best as I could and even talked with my doctor but nothing helped. As time progressed Lorri and I went for longer walks but I was having trouble keeping up. My leg and hips seemed out of kilter, the pain in my joints got worse and worse but we still walked. I realized with a growing despair that I couldn’t work this way and I was in a quandary over what I was to do.
Money was tight and even though Lorri told me not to worry I couldn’t help but worry. Then to make matters worse my bank account seemed to be getting depleted faster and faster and there wasn’t anything I could do about it in my condition. I couldn’t think straight and couldn’t concentrate on my problems for long so I just drifted in place. That was the worst feeling in the world to just mentally drift and to not really be able to care. I knew that in time I’d take care of it but I couldn’t even prioritize it into my life right now. Everything that I knew about my life was crashing down around my ears and I knew it but there was nothing to be done. Like a train crash you see happening in slow motion but somewhere in the back of your mind you know that it’s real time.
After I was well into therapy Lorri started talking about returning home and that send me into a panic. I wasn’t ready to let go of the lifeline she was providing and beyond that I didn’t want her visit to be all about my stroke. I asked for bit more time and told her I wanted to try driving firsts and then we could take some trips. We ended up going to Galveston and had a lovely time of it there. It’s about a five hour trip from where I live and we took back roads so there wasn’t as much traffic and I could go slow. But the last two hours of the trip were in pre-rush hour traffic and I was frazzled by the time we got to our place and then the elevator wasn’t working. But we had a great visit away from home and away from all of my problems and stresses. Then it was getting time for Lorri to go and for me to face the realities of my life alone.

Part II

I received a full month of therapy in the hospital and after I received out-patient therapy for about a month and a half . Three day a week for two hours each day I had physical therapy for my arm and leg. I was still very weak and on my cane I hobbled from the car but in therapy I wasn’t allowed to use my cane. First very basic walking with the help of the parallel bars I’d walk back and forth. Then I’d sit on the mat and we’d do exercises to strength my arms and leg. Then as I improved we’d work with a ball tossing it back and forth from only a few feet apart. Then my therapist came up with a tennis ball and a trampoline and I’d throw it at a target and it would bounce and I’d try to catch it. I fell in love with this game because of how it made my arm remember how to throw and I got better and better at catching the damn ball. It really helped real time to make that hand/eye coordination link in my brain work. After I finished my routines for the day I’d ask for more time to work throwing the ball and I felt a great sense of accomplishment doing it.
My therapist was very pleased to see not only my progress but the zeal I put into the exercises. Not only was I attending every day without fail I was motivating them to find harder exercises to give me. And that was key to my recovery, from the very first I challenged them to find more ways to help me to improve. While in the hospital the head therapist attended a seminar on helping stroke victims improve in new and innovative ways and I was her guinea pig. She even came up with this ladder idea which required extra help to steady me as I climbed up a few steps. It wasn’t the steps that were so helpful it was the remember action of climbing the steps. All things I had done in my past life and things that had become imbedded in my mind and my body. But now I was finding new pathways in my brain, same brain but a new way to get to get around the blockages that were stopping me.
A word here on humor, keeping a sense of humor and making it fun to those around to help you. The first few days I was in the hospital a therapist came to work with me while I was having breakfast. Apparently I told her it was uncivilized to ask a man to do anything before having his coffee. None the less I expected to get better and I though of my stroke as a temporary condition and I kept a sense of play and not a sense of doom to overcome. I didn’t whine about my condition or exercises or ask "Why Me?". I had a pretty good idea of why me but I didn’t let that affect my progress or desire. Many people I saw were trapped in themselves and were concentrating on what they’d lost and only that. I had a life I wanted to be able to live again as a free and independent male. Nothing would stop me from that life..., even a stroke. I refused to fall into that trap of being helpless and having everything handed to me and having people wait on me hand and foot. Even the therapist I had to stop from picking up something I had dropped. No one had to walk on eggshells around me or my condition. I knew instinctively that the best way to get my life back was to get into my old routine. I was bound and determined to return as soon as possible to the old/new ways I had about doing things and nothing would stop me.
Leslie (Part I)

Leslie

Leslie was one of the young models to visit me in the hospital, thank god for cell phones. She is a very interesting young woman, eighteen when I met her through her site on OMP. We had a preliminary meeting at a coffee shop along the Riverwalk and she was intrigued by my portraits. I told her she had too many nude on her website and she very frostily told me she had someone managing her website thank you very much. Like so many young people she was positive in her direction and had a bit of a chip on her shoulder. I immediately pegged her as an at risk person who needed some positive feedback and maybe some gentle guidance. Anyway she agreed to come to the house for a session, at the time I could strip everything out of the bedroom and turn it into a studio. She came out of the bathroom in the nicest short bathrobe, sat-down and lit a cigarette very cool and in control like. For five minutes she read me the rule and regulations about how the shoot would go, I wasn’t to ask any personal questions and her sex life was private. She inhaled deeply and blowing out the smoke ask if there were any questions. She was watching me intently, very challenging like and I replied, " Yeah, do you get nekked"? And she tossed off the little robe and looked at me like feast on this pal! So I looked at her for a few moments and replied "Naw, let’s get you into a dress". We’ve been friends ever since.
A shoot is what you make it, it takes a bit of hard work and confidence in the photographer ability to respect you but you can play and have fun. That’s key, I respect my model and I respect them for working with me and sharing their skills and talents. I expect my girls to work hard but I don’t ask the impossible of them and best of all I feed them after because I know they come on a empty stomach. Never in my years of working with women have I had any problems . It’s because we both understand what we’re there for, models are not there to put on any free-show for anybody. And if their uncomfortable with a pose I ask of them they can see a polaroid at anytime. I love my girls as people, as individuals who give me their best and I respect that. And sometime if I’m a little too rough with them they understand that what we’re getting is worth it.

Fear is the greatest obstacle to one’s recovery that I know. In the words of the old saw, when you fear you can’t you’re probably right. When I was in the hospital and after when I returned home fear was my biggest hindrance. I feared everything the therapy, the therapist, my doctors and most of all I feared myself. Could I do the things they were asking of me and what would my life be after the traumatic injury I had survived. My lifestyle was that of an almost loner, I live by myself and though I live of the periphery of the public eye I’m not of it. I usually work in anonymity taking my photos and try to remain in the background. Here I was the center of focus (no pun intended) and I could fail or succeed at my will, it was all up to me. It took a long time to get comfortable with myself, too much of myself confidence and self-reliance were shaken to the core. I wasn’t this strong rugged individual I projected. I had some visitors, photographers I was friend’s with and some models who came by to wish me well. But they were really talking to a shell of myself, I knew that there was a fundamental change in me and my perceptions of the world about me. The models who came by were a real help, their young fresh minds and body’s couldn’t conceive of me being down for the count and getting up only just before the final bell. Instead I could lose myself in their problems and concerns, they provided an escape for me and mine.
I had no good options to getting better and I worried about the long term repercussions. Would I recover just to succumb to another stroke later or would I recover only marginally and never be able to work again and how on earth would I ever recover from the mounting bills. All this pressure and all I could do was take it one day at a time and hope my constitution was strong enough. And that’s what I did or tried to do, one day at a time, one foot in front of another and one hand dragged along for the ride. No heroic’s, no effort to hide it from myself. Just grim determination with a mind to the timetable attached to my recovery. I just had to do what I had to get back to my life. Now I find I’m in the company of some truly heroic people who struggle much harder than I do. They struggle with a mate and the hardest of all their children. My heart and hope’s go out to them along with my prayers. When I was recovering I happened to visit a church in another town and I lit a candle and said a prayer of hope for those I knew were struggling with life. Not for me because I was truly blessed but for my friends who were truly in need of some extra help. A word of thanks for the blessing in my life. A word of thanks for having a life worth living.
(I want to thank you all for commenting on my blog and giving me a space on yours. We truly are not alone in this world..., we are all brother’s and sister’s.)

As I said my stroke was Ischemic and though it could have been worse it was bad enough. As I started to get better I tried to get used to the swing of the new realities of my life. I’ve been an event photographer for most of my adult life capturing ex-Presidents, Secretary’s of State and of course Congressmen and Mayors. There was a fund-raiser for the Mayor that I was donating my time and talents to. I expected the ususal event except this one was at a private home and I though it would give me a chance to experiment and see how my body reacted to the stresses and strains. This was about two months into my recovery and I was anxious to prove to myself that I could do what I always had done and to show myself I could rise to the occasion. I was barley off my cane at the time and still weak as could be and I figured I was good for an hour then I’d slip out and return home and rest. Well it was even harder than I figured and the event wasn’t at all what I had envisioned but I was stuck. I should have know better the moment I arrived that I was in over my head and just quietly turn back and gone home. No one was there from the association I belonged to who could help me I was on my own. It was a much bigger deal than I had figured, about 200 well heeled supporter were there including many that I knew. There was the meet and greet, handshake from well wisher who wanted to be seen and contribute, then of course the speeches. I sat and rested when I could but I needed to be on my feet much longer than I figured and when I needed to reload that was a pain I hadn’t counted on. I need to squat down to get at my bag to get the film, luckily I had put my bag under the piano so I had something solid to lift myself back up. Then I had 36 exposures to get though. I was really shaky on my pins going back down the steps and knew beyond a doubt that I wasn’t really ready for my life yet but in time.

Traci

I first met Traci off the OMP site for models and we really hit it off. I met her and her boyfriend about Christmas time and I remember thinking she was a bit too skinny. She is the sweetest, warmest, fun-loving individual and her beauty is more than skin deep. I was beginning to branch out in my art work and we began to meet more often. She became ill with a blood poisoning that sent her into a tailspin. She lost even more weight and seemed remote to reality though she did try her best to power though it. She’d call sometime in the afternoon and want to talk about nothing in particular but everything in general. We’d talk about her family, politicks, religion and about natural health for hours. Sometime she’d drift off in mid-sentence and instead of rushing in to fill the void I learned to wait and give her a chance to finish her thoughts That was and is a most valuable lesson to learn, it’s one of the tools in my arsenal now. Just wait and let the other person do the talking, no one likes to have a conversational void and many times in not rushing to fill it you can learn valuable detail they didn’t mean to tell you. Anyway her illness took a year to clear and for her to return to good health and we began to talk about shooting again, then I had my stroke. She was a good friend, someone I could now call to relieve my stress when I was in the hospital. I could talk to her and not worry about how I sounded and if I was making sense to her. She and her boyfriend came down to stay at my apartment and bring me some clothes and later she came down to clean my apartment before I returned. That’s my friend Traci, what a pal.

Firsts Shoot

In June of last year, just in time for my birthday I finally got to shoot my first art project since my stroke. I wanted it to be relaxed and comfortable so I could test my skills and see how I worked under the least amount of pressure. I got my friend Traci to come down for the day and just play. I was very uneasy about being able to shoot again after a two year layoff, my work is an extension of me and my soul. She had some wine to relax after her drive and we talked then she had a new bathing suit to show me. I guess we were both nervous for our own reasons but we took it slow and counted on the years of friendship to see us though. As I got more and more comfortable the old habits took control of me and I started to see her as angels and light..., curves mostly. I got into my rhythm again and pacing and things began to flow. We worked for about two hours in different outfits, shirts and without, we worked on the bed as I had planned and then did some bodyscapes. Here is one of the firsts. As I’ve mentioned before I like to work unscripted, I have an idea what I want to accomplish but I leave it up to the magic to get us there.