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

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
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.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.