Here's a mystery that I didn't know existed until last night. I was looking through images by Modigliani, and found that almost, if not all, his nude models are lying with their heads on the left side of the canvas. What is up with that?
If anybody knows, please inform me. I have found one exception.
Why was I looking at Modigliani's nudes? Because I've made a big mistake. Do you know how long it has been since I gave up my studio? "Too long" is a good answer, but the actual number of years is shocking. I've not shot with a model since.
Actually, I've not made one but two mistakes. The first is that I have a session with a fire-breathing pole-dancing instructor on the coast this Sunday. How this even came about has become lost to me. But it did. I looked at her IG page and got in touch with her. She was very willing to shoot. We are going to work in her dance studio.
WTF?!
I have been in a "state" since. What was I thinking? What am I going to do?
Oh, at first I was pleased and excited. So much so, I contacted the waitress from the Irish pub.
It's C.S., one of the perverted Billionaire Boys Club harassment group that comes once a month or so to plague you at the pub. I haven't been with the group the last two trips, and I can never trust a thing they say or do when I am not there to defend myself, so forgive me if this text seems out of line. But Tennessee said you wanted to make some photos. It was all vague. I'm not sure they understand that I am not a commercial photographer. I don't do glam shots. I hope they haven't misled me or you. I had a studio for many years but gave it up long ago have been working on non-human projects since. So. . . there is full disclosure. But I make nice pictures if you are into the creative stuff. Did you want to work together or was that pub talk? Either way, let me know. I don't want to be a creeper, but I don't want to not reply, either. Just sayin'.
I had a response in about ten seconds. Oh, yes, she said. . . she really wants to. She sent me her IG account to look at.
I'm fucked. My stomach hasn't been right since. I had a nice, peaceful, placid life. I didn't have to do anything ever. There was no stress, no performance anxiety. . . just a constant whining about not making photos as I drank coffee and tea at the PhotoBooth Cafe.
Well. . . I'm in for it now. I'd better think of something. Today I'll be breaking out all the equipment I think I will need. I have a lot of it. Recently, a commercial photographer gave me all her lighting equipment. I thought it would be shit, but it is all top notch stuff. There must be six or seven thousand dollars worth of lighting, stands, diffusers, reflectors, etc. I haven't tried any of it yet. I'll be breaking it out today to see.
Christ on a Cross, I need a studio. I need a big printer. I have ideas. I just don't have the means.
What is the saying? Something is the mother of invention? What is? I can't recall.
Oh, yea. . . necessity.
I'll need a soundtrack. I'll need to make that. Something slow, calming. . . mood inducing and hypnotic.
I doubt there will be any Modiglianis, though. I won't have the couch.
No matter. I don't want to repeat myself, right? Not like that hack Modigliani.
I don't want to do it at all. It is too stressful. I would rather go on vacation. Sky sent me a picture postcard from the Caribbean yesterday out of the blue. I don't hear from her very often now. But it was providence, I'm sure. It came just after I began to realize what I had let myself in for.
She is living the White Lotus life, she said. Perhaps I am meant to be thinking of Gauguin.
"Stop it! What happened to all those journalistic projects you had in mind?"
"They scare me."
"Everything scares you."
It's true. And I'm lazy to boot. Life can be simple. It is easier to look at images than to make them. All that is left for me to do now is to embarrass myself.
Like I said. . . I'd better think of something.
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