Tart at the Mill

(All pics. snapped on 11/11/10)

There are a couple of things that I actually like about the pictures featured here in this post. The first is that someone has offered to purchase a print - from one particular group that I shot in this mill (YIP!) Second? They signify the end of a years-long cold war between me and a former adversary...

A few weeks ago (maybe a month?) I was forced to muster the courage to approach an arch-rival and ask permission to do self-portraits in a building wherein most (if not all) activities fall under her jurisdiction...Eh, I dunno...maybe "arch-rival" is too strong a term to accurately describe the person in question, but what I do know is that there has been a significant amount of uncomfortable tension between us for as far back as I can remember. Presumably because for years we shared the curse of being two unmarried, middle-aged women, residing in the same small community where the pickings are slim for eligible men, and after competing with each other for the same man at one point - she rose victorious......and she has way better hair than I do (mumble...*expletive*...grumble). That whole drama happened ages ago (and I'm totally over it now, no I am! Seriously!) however, our palpable resentment towards each other has for whatever reason - never flagged...

I got the idea to shoot in the historic Burwell-Morgan Mill (just up the road from my home) after seeing signs around the neighborhood advertising "Art at the Mill" - the local historical association's biannual art show. It's so funny because I drive past this landmark countless times each week, but the thought of shooting inside of the meticulously restored working mill, had never crossed my mind before then. Aiming to kill two birds with one stone, I stopped in to beep at the art, but also to (hopefully) get the green light to make my own art there soon. I cringed at the thought of groveling to her, but she was the go-to-girl after all, and the decision - yay or nay - would be entirely at her discretion. 

I laid everything out for her right there on the front desk (including my portfolios so that she'd be clear about what it is that I do)...and although at first she sort of bristled at my mere presence - after discussing my intentions like reasonable adults, I felt the iciness that historically has kept us estranged - begin to melt away, and ultimately - become water under the bridge...Her kind gestures of complimenting my work and agreeing to let me shoot at the Mill, indicated that we might be moving towards rising above our differences and burying the hatchet for good. 

My preference was to wait until the art show was down, so that visitor traffic would be minimal as I roamed the venue taking pics. of myself in varying states of undress. A childless weekend closing-in, I called "her" to see when it might suit for me to pop by The Mill and do my thang. Now check this - she offered to let me into the building on a day when it wasn't even open to the public, that way I'd have the whole place to myself - BONUS! I was stunned by her willingness to shift her schedule for my sake and her friendliness towards me was icing on the cake. (Muchas gracias!)

What I don't like about these pictures is how inept I was at harnessing the intense natural light while at the same time barely coping with the exaggerated shadowy darkness that flanked it. In scoping out all three floors prior to shooting, I'd become overconfident that there would be no possible way I'd end up with anything less than a pile of great pics.. Lo and behold - out of two full memory cards (and 2 1/2 hours racing from camera to pose) I came away with only 5 or so images that didn't completely insult me...

  This ^ is not one of them...
But since I do still appear to have eyes, nose and a mouth, it is marginally better than the rest from this lot...

That tantalizing light that streamed in through the window and misled me into thinking I was golden - instead erased contours and burned the pigment from my skin. I manipulated the hell outta these pics. on iPhoto, but in all except three photos snapped from the angle above - I looked as if I was either wearing a white body stocking...or was a freakishly, featureless alien...so not good. 

Although hesitant to shoot right into the light and directly facing the sunny window - I thought, "It certainly can't hurt to try. Could the pictures be any worse than the ones from the last set?" 

Upon reviewing the first coupla shots from this direction, I was pleased to see a marked improvement (although other issues plagued the bulk of the pics. from this set) Lucking into making use of that scrummy light, is proof positive that I ain't nuttin' but a greenhorn still, and a long way from finessing finding the "right" light...on purpose.

OH! And how bout that truce reached between me and my nemesis? It's comforting to know that good things can come from this silly, little hobby of mine...

The Trite Stuff

(Snapped on 11/03/10)

After scrolling through the pics. that I chose for this post (plucked from five consecutive, recent photo shoots) I hated that what immediately came to mind was, "Dear god, have I plateau-ed? Or, perish the thought - regressed?!" And as I considered my bleak first impression, the notion that on some level any number of my self-portraits could be considered obvious and/or banal - sent me into a full-on tailspin. It sucks because now I've got myself all in a tizz, worried that no matter what I try or have tried - there's some probability that the end product could come across as corny or cliche...

I'm gonna chalk up this discomforting epiphany - as a necessary part of the learning curve, K? And rather than bury these photos and pretend that the problem doesn't exist, I shall instead tackle the issue head-on. (Here's hoping in the process, I'll be more cognizant of what to watch out for when conceiving and staging future shoots) 

Outside of the minimal feedback that I get from my viewers, I have no idea what most people think or even feel when they look at my pictures. Compounding that - is the fact that I don't deliberately try to manifest anything specific in my pics.. I just decide on the costume and the venue...and when I get there (more often than not) I do my best to look pretty when I pose. Other than that - I kinda throw caution to the wind, and if I'm lucky something cool happens - completely by accident.

Most times I select the pics. that I post in the blog, based on basic things like compositional aesthetics or the desire to gloat about my more physically difficult accomplishments. I don't usually find myself digging much deeper than that. (Am I an idiot to actually admit this? Maybe)

Let's take the first picture in this post. Why did I pluck it from the rest of the bunch. Simply because my whole body and the jar of JIF were totally in frame, the contrast was decent and my new battle wound was clearly visible...now I'm here to tell ya' -that's some pretty deep shit.

I asked my son if he thought that I looked convincingly like a squatter? He said, "Um, yeah sort of......I guess" I responded with, "Really? Hmmmm...Where do ya' think I went wrong?" His succinct yet sage assessment put it all in perspective and made me officially loathe the damn photo, "You're wearing make-up, Mom"...true, true...'nuff said...

(Snapped on 11/08/10)

The next four photos were snapped all in one day, and in roughly the same location (two neighboring farms belonging to friends)

I'd already made arrangements to shoot with the bull and the old truck, but when the goat thing came to me last minute (always one to be economical with my time) I called my friend to see if it would be ok to add "milking the goat" to the docket...and it was (Thank you, T.!) 

I justified doing this my second milkmaid shoot - by telling myself, "That last shoot was primarily about the barn. This one is all about the animal." Seemed foolish to pass up an opportunity for fear of being redundant, especially since I'd scored that way-too-small-for-me country gal outfit at the thrift store, just a few days before...

I took some pictures pretending to milk ole Glory - and she was perfect. Plus the lighting in the milking stall was divine! But ultimately it was I who fell flat. Every photo just looked so contrived (way worse than the picture above, believe it or not) 

I coaxed Glory into her stall with a bucket of grain, and I think we did a little better messin' around in there, although in exchange for posing for my pics., she insisted that I sacrifice my straw stool to her epicurean cravings. She's a GOAT, for cryin' out loud - lord knows those suckers'll eat ANYthing!

(Snapped on 11/08/10)

Next stop was where a 1940's International truck had sat paralyzed for years, after its driver broke the axle and left it for dead. I had not seen the truck before the day that I photographed myself with it, but going on the landowner's description of its condition and whereabouts - I fashioned the wood nymph costume believing it would somehow coalesce with the skeleton of that truck - forever stuck on the limestone outcropping...

...and I have to say...I'm not convinced that it did...

In slogging through the hundred or so pictures from on and around that remarkable relic, my overall interpretation of them was that they were cheesy...such a pity.

And while desperately trying to salvage the best (overstatement?) of the lot - I resorted to experimenting with unfamiliar effects on iPhoto (see above). It was a last ditch effort to overcome critical background snafu's...the results? Storybook sappy...two thumbs down.

(Snapped on 11/08/10)

I posted this one so you wouldn't think that I'd completely lost my marbles...and it may be a teensy bit better. But still - to me? It's hackneyed and nothing really jibes...

(Snapped on 11/08/10)

My aspirations to play matador with my friend's prize 2000 lb. bull - were dashed when the bull continuously eluded me and my camera. I musta walked four miles chasing the bastard around that field, but anytime I got close enough to set up my equipment, he aloofly lumbered away with his bevy of babes...grrrr...

I can admit, that I did come to this shoot, knowing full-well how utterly ludicrous the whole concept was. I mean, for one thing the bull has no horns...although I had no sword, so in a way we'd have been well-matched opponents. Also there was no arena or audience - the very idea of a mock bullfight was balderdash. In the end though, none of that mattered - since the bull refused to cooperate with my far-fetched theatrics. But I was there, I liked my costume and I wasn't quite ready to retire it...and the wind did nice things to my makeshift cape :)

The photos from this series bring to my mind, an escaped mental patient...roaming the countryside...stalking indifferent cattle - in an attempt to satiate delusions of (female) matador-esque grandeur. Plain weird.

(I wasn't unhappy with the colors though, so there is that)

(Snapped on 11/10/10)

A hooker shoot? Shocking. It's almost like, "You're only just now getting to this?" 

Thing is - this is a second try at this particular theme, very different from my first attempt but no more innovative. I did enjoy going out in the middle of the night (thank you H. for loaning me the wig, btdubs) and I liked that cars (even cops!) drove by and didn't mess with me one tiny bit. But I'm still not quite sure how I feel about these photos. My mind right now is so fixed on believing everything I do is unoriginal, and because of that I've temporarily lost my point of reference...I'll get it back though, I promise. I just have to keep reminding myself that this whole thing is a crap-shoot...no matter what I do or how I interpret it...

The Magical Mystery Tour

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

The older I get (and the more decrepit my vehicles) the less I like to venture very far from where I live. I've always been a bit of a homebody, but over the last few months I've become more and more content to keep busy in my studio during the quiet times when my kids are with their dad. Yeah sure, I go out and about to do my pictures (mostly around my immediate "neighborhood", though) - but outside of visiting my daughter at her boarding school - I rarely travel solely for recreation. And even then, my fingers are crossed the whole time, that I won't end up stranded - my car completely kaput on the shoulder, with no AAA and no money to get myself towed. In other words, unless I'm going someplace where the risk of breaking down is somehow worth knowing that if I get there, I will be productive - I prefer to play it safe and stay at (or somewhere close to) home...where I'm certain to get plenty of stuff done.  

The reason I'm boring you with all of this, is because I'm trying to illustrate how out of character it was for me to take precious time away from working on my blog, and risk car-tastrophe by making the 3 hour + drive down to, and back from - where my friends Copeland and George have homes in central Virginia...not just once, but on two separate occasions now. Only something exceptionally enticing, could make me break tradition like that.

Obviously I went, fully intending to spend quality time with my friends, but I made no false pretenses about the fact that for me it would be more of a working holiday than a time to kick back and relax. 

You guys may remember how blown away I was, by my first visit to the region back in September (see entry, "On "The Land" and Off the Grid"). The combination of coming home with a treasure trove of pics., and a long mental list of venues where I longed to snap more pictures there some other day, all punctuated by my new friend George's invitation to shoot at his place - was ample reason to get my butt back down there...like asap!

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

I blabbed on and on in the last post, about the two cool spots that I'd noticed (and where I was absolutely dying to shoot) while on my way over to meet George. The crumbly, old house seen here in the three topmost pics., was my first stop - after departing a prosperous afternoon spent with George...and his land...and his trailer.

I initially caught only a fleeting glimpse of the old house, and had been so captivated by what I'd seen of the facade that I made up my mind to shoot my self-portraits using the exterior of the house as my backdrop. But upon arrival, I realized - that this would not be feasible. The entire yard was a tangled, dense mass of head-high overgrowth, which completely enveloped the abandoned abode. I pulled my car as much off of the road as I could, barely onto a makeshift driveway (presumably the resting spot of the bulldozer that I'd seen parked there earlier in the day - yipes) My precious SONY Cyber-Shot safely zipped-up in my pocket, I grabbed the rest of what I needed and struggled to navigate my way through the sea of hateful brambles and weeds. 

After clambering up and into the front hallway, I literally gasped and let out an audible, "Oh my god..." I was jittery in my amazement to have ended up in a place, unlike any other I'd ever seen before.

The late-day light spilling in through the pane-less windows and doorless doorways - was beyond stunning, and a cold breeze teased my diaphanous dress (also now translucent - since I'd cut out the pesky, black underskirt) There were vestiges indicating that the once proud and fine homestead had been repeatedly raped for it's desirable mantles, stair treads, light fixtures and doors. Savagely stripped of its distinguishing features, and consequently - protection from the elements - the old house was succumbing to malignant decay...after decades of neglect, betrayal and abuse...

It was terribly sad and beautiful all at once. I have chills and feel inexplicably emotional thinking about it, even now. 

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

I could've easily stayed there shooting for hours, but unfortunately I knew that my time inside the house would have to be brief, since it's situated close to the road in a small town where everyone knows everyone, and nobody would recognize my car. To have stayed there much longer, would've been asking for trouble...

(When I got back home and downloaded the pictures that I'd taken inside the old house, I was floored. Miraculously most of the pics. needed minimal tweaking...besides cropping, I left several of them otherwise untouched)

As regretful as I was, to say goodbye to the house, knowing that it might not even be there next time (that bulldozer that I'd seen parked out front, ominously predicted a grim outlook for the perpetually deteriorating structure) - I was ok with it, because of my urgency to shoot at the last location on my list. 

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

This lonely general store sits so close to the road, that I barely had room to park my car much less keep it out of the pictures. More so than at the old house, I was blatantly advertising my presence at a place where I really had no business being.

The other tricky thing about this particular shoot, was that I had to change costumes inside of my car...

(Snapped on 9/22/08)

How's this for a fishbowl-type dressing room? Ya' think there's any chance that passing motorists and the folks living in the house across street - couldn't see what I was doing? Haha! No matter, it's the adrenaline rush that comes from such things, that injects me with the courage to make a spectacle of myself...

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

It's kinda hard to explain, and it may sound silly but after two fortuitous photographic excursions to this specific part of Virginia, I'm convinced that there might be something magical about the area...

There's this strange serenity about the landscape, a sort of quiet calm blanketing each pristine acre. The way the light behaves, seems totally different to me - could be it's more intense because the air is so clean? I know it seems crazy - but I really can't make sense of it! The architecture although humble - is arresting and oft eerie. And somehow I manage to always stay safe from harm. I mean like seriously - I go to Richmond to attend an innocuous party and end up in the ER with stitches in my arse. But in this special place, I have repeatedly scaled the walls of a collapsing building, and tromped around barefoot through tons of brittle plaster and lath riddled by thousands of nails - remarkably impervious to injury. I've been alone in old buildings, remote locations and public spaces - for extended periods of time, and never been bothered by any single spirit or living soul...

It's entirely possible that I could travel a fraction of the distance from my home, to countless points in any direction (and I fully intend to do just that) and discover equally enchanting locations to shoot. But I have this hunch that that no other place will replicate the exulting feeling I get - while in and around that part of Virginia. And...much as I detest driving long distances, the je ne sais quoi of Charlotte County and her environs - will inevitably lure me back.

Post-Trailer Stress Syndrome

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

After two straight hours at my friend George's trailer, spent ravenously snapping self-portraits - my only alternative was to cease and desist. It was 3:30 in the afternoon and I knew that if I was to get pictures elsewhere on George's mouthwateringly exquisite property as well as at the two come-hither spots that I'd spied while driving over to his place - I'd have to hurry before darkness put the kibosh on my plans.

I toted my gear outside, pushed the lock on the knob and reluctantly closed the door to the trailer. I shuffled to my car, slowly slid off the wig, and let the neglige fall past my body to rest in a heap around my feet....and as I stood there stark naked in the interim between shoots - I felt melancholy displace my euphoria. I was definitely excited about taking more pics., but wrapping the trailer shoot was strangely bittersweet...I worried that no matter what I tried next, it would most certainly pale in comparison.

Digging through my jumbo bag of costumes though, was just the prescription for getting myself right back on track. I selected a fringy poncho and my well-worn Ugg boots* (*the photos with the Uggs were promptly vetoed, btw) believing they'd meld perfectly with that pristine field...and the plots of fading wild flowers...and the autumnal tree line in the distance. Perhaps in the process I'd procure a happy set of "hippy chick" pics., a yin to the yang of the somewhat somber trailer shoot.

I dunno though, whadda you think? Feels decidedly more Sasquatch than hippy chick to me. What'd I tell ya'...see? Anti-freaking-climactic. Ah well, no sense in whining - K, NEXT!

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

Because I was traveling in my low-profile vintage sports car with its rear-wheel drive and two bald front tires, I didn't have the option of venturing as deep into the property as George had been able to take me in his SUV. Luckily though, my second favorite spot was just a short, easy drive from the field with the trailer, and since my costume required no thought or effort - I was able to get started right away...

F'you ask me, shooting naked is the tits - it's easy and quick and I mean - how can the pictures turn out all that badly when the subject being photographed is nude? I reckon it helps that I've no problem bearing my all - especially when I'm in the middle of a remote, natural setting. But there was one eensy problem with slinking naked through the forest, right then...'twas opening day for muzzle-loading season, and the deer hunters would be out in force. Not necessarily on George's land per se, since he'd given no one hunting privileges...but let's face it - with that much acreage, and trespassing so common - it was entirely possible that a gun-toting stranger could happen upon me in those woods. This conjured in my mind scenarios as simple as a mortifyingly uncomfortable encounter, or as grave as some trigger-happy hunter's hasty mistake...

I had assured my friend Copeland, that I would wear some article of blaze orange clothing, after she voiced her concern over my intentions to shoot in the woods that day...but when it came time to do the pictures I decided to take my chances, and forwent the safety precaution altogether - all for the sake of unencumbered pics.... 

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

(Not to change the subject or anything but you know what I just realized? This is likely to be the last current photo that I'll post of my ass without the stitches or what's sure to be a pretty grody scar...bummer. It's the end of an era, I suppose...)

All right, so - taking all factors into account, i.e.: the chance that it might be up to me to chase poachers off of George's property (while nude), the potential to be mistaken for a deer by a hunter (whereby giving new meaning to the term "buck naked"), the fact that the damp forest floor and the dense canopy of trees made for uncomfortably chilly conditions and the time I had left to do my two other shoots - swiftly reaching its critical mass...the woodland pics. were snapped in a panic (to put it mildly) and I would venture to say that it shows.... 

Although I feel like I failed to "deliver" in the photos from this part of the day, I cannot fault the backdrop at all...totes fantastic! It's just funny to me that I could be so comfy and content to shoot in that creepy ole trailer, but lawd! Get me out amidst Mother Nature's magnificence - and I totally seize up...go figure…

My Date with a Trailer...

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

As I mentioned in my last post, this past weekend I made my second trip down to central Virgina to visit my friend Copeland at her prefab(ulous) weekend home. I returned from my first trip a few months back - captivated by the pure, untainted pastoral beauty of not just her land specifically - but of the region as a whole. And although I came home rested, rejuvenated and rejoicing over having stockpiled a boatload of new self-portraits, I simply could not stop thinking about the untapped wealth of photo-ops. - that I was certain would lure me back down there... 

After writing a guest post for Copeland's blog following my first adventure on "The Land", I was contacted on Facebook by a friend of Copeland's (also one of her country home neighbors) who had read my account of and seen the photos from my stay there. George and I quickly struck up an effortless, online friendship and after a short while, he cordially issued me carte blanche to shoot on his property, anytime that I happened to be in the area...

Knowing that I was to be heading down that way over Halloween weekend, I warned George that if the offer still stood, I was def gonna take him up on his generous invitation...and luckily he was totally hep to it - hooRAY! I practically slobbered over his description of the natural backdrops that were to be at my disposal for the day, but when he casually mentioned that there's an old trailer on his property, my ears immediately pricked..."A trailer? OoOOoh...goody, goody!"

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

After a leisurely Saturday morning at Copeland's - spent sipping coffee and tweaking a couple of my costumes (with the help of her inquisitive and adorable daughter) I followed in my little car, as Copeland led me through an unfamiliar part of the county (I tried hard to remember the location of two irresistible venues, eager to add them to the day's shoot itinerary) after which she aimed me in the direction of George's house...and then sent me on my merry way.

Since I arrived at George's place a good bit later than anticipated, we wasted no time touring his fastidiously maintained, unspoiled acreage...I was overwhelmed by the infinite number of desirable spots where I could potentially photograph myself on his property...BUT! The moment that I set foot in the trailer, the dilemma of "where to start?" had been instantly answered for me. My self-portrait rampage scheduled for the day, must commence nowhere other than...there! 

I had pictured the inside of the trailer looking very like the the way that it actually did look, only somehow not nearly as AWESOME! I mean seriously you guys - it was way beyond perfect. Just the right amount of trashed and decayed and - much as I actually disliked the classic 1970's drab decor with its vomitrocious, wretched colors that stirred memories of my dreary childhood - I was in love with those hues for my photos...

I was shocked (and delighted) that period furniture was still scattered about the interior, and that the original avocado green shag rug still covered the living room floor (are you kidding me?! Real shag?!) I was beside myself, to say the very least.

Once I wrapped my brain around the magnitude of my good fortune to have been bestowed with such a rare and special opportunity, and acknowledging that if my top picks of shoots for the day were to be realized - then time was of the essence. I scurried out to my little car, dug through the excessive amount of clothing and wigs and shoes and accessories that had overflowed my huge duffel and were overtaking the back of my car - and settled on three simple outfits which I hoped would bring three different personae to life, in a faux-tographic flashback to a bygone era...  

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

Generally when editing my photos, the first thing I do is crop 'em - just so. After that, I bump up the intensity of color and contrast. But in fiddling around with the photos from my industrious two hours at the trailer, I found that fading the color or dulling it down as well as minimizing any sharp contrasts...seemed to give the pics. a touch of vintage appeal. I tend to be a creature of habit and so it was tricky at first, for me to deviate from my affinity for bright color and *pop*. I'm glad that I did though, because the quiet tones bode well for the mellow mood and nostalgia of these shots (not to mention it was good for me to break a habit...for once)

I was so happy to have finally officially made George's acquaintance, it assured me that our friendship was real and now solid. My deal with the trailer though, was just a one time thing...but I would always have the pictures to remind me of our "date"...

B(eginning) & E(nd)

(Snapped on 10/29/10)

I kicked off this past weekend, by getting a late start embarking on this - my second trip to my friend Copeland's prefab house in rural central Virginia. Extenuating circumstances kept me stuck at home for hours longer than I'd planned, rather than enjoying what I'd hoped would be - a leisurely 3 1/2 + hour drive, stopping here and there - to snap panoramas and self-portraits along the way.

By the time I actually did hit the road, I was disappointed that most of the journey would now take place in the dark. Not only would my time to take pics. be limited, but also as a rule - I abhor nighttime driving.

Although I left home dressed and ready to photograph myself skulking around a few target locations playing the part of a menacing cat burglar, that never happened. I did however, manage to fire off a few panoramas - so the evening was not a total loss.

(Snapped on 10/29/10)

When I finally arrived at Copeland's house, I was frozen to the bone because the heater in my little car bites ass...and I have to confess - I had little faith that I would ever warm up, since I was privy to the fact that the heating system in Copeland's house has yet to be fully installed. But after being hurriedly escorted inside (Copeland is fanATical about letting minimal warm air out) I instantly felt as if a snuggly blankie had been wrapped tightly around me...ahhhhhh...and all I could think was, "Thank god"

Although not yet completed, the off grid house is such a well-constructed, energy-efficient structure - that indoors it was a toasty 69 degrees (I don't even think it had been 69 degrees outside, that day!) This was definitely a good thing in one sense, because I quickly thawed out after my long, cold drive - but unfortunately it made me terribly unmotivated to go back out and put my prowler costume to good use...but I did.

I'm certain that Copie and her family were none too pleased with my selfish whim of shooting a late night B & E sequence while they tried to sleep. It probably woulda been a non-issue had the two very protective family dogs not barked ferociously the whole time that I was shooting - evidently convinced that I truly was an intruder...GOOD dogs! BAD me! (sorry guys!)

I finally tucked my own self in for the night, when my hands got so cold that they burned...and snot ceaselessly dripped from my nose...  

(Snapped on 10/30/10)

After an insanely industrious Saturday afternoon, I bade Copeland and her family farewell, and left with the key to their city house, where they'd generously offered to let me stay on Saturday night...

As the old saying goes, "When the adults are away, the kids will play" 

While driving to Copeland's city house, something occurred to me - her pink and white bathroom would be the perfect complement to my new pink and black bra and undies set  *deg* So...I made a mess of the make-up left over from the day's earlier shoots, before showering and getting spiffy for the Halloween bash I was to attend, and took a buncha pics. a la the one up above! (Clearly I'm warming up to the idea of not always needing to try and look "pretty" in my pics.)

Immediately after seeing just one of the images - Copeland fussed that I'd be allowed no more unsupervised overnights at her house (spoil sport) after which she sighed, "I'll never look at my bathroom the same way again"...AH-hahaha! Yeah right...you and I both know that she secretly loved the pics that I'd snapped in there.

I arrived at the Halloween shindig as Little Red Riding Hood and after less than an hour, was approached by a brawny and sloppy drunk - "Donald Trump". I was standing with my legs up against a low table and at one point when the unsteady D. T. suddenly lurched towards me, I lost my balance and fell backwards onto the table...as well as onto a glass candle votive...which broke and cut my ass cheek wide open...Mr. Trump? I'm sorry, but you're FIRED!

(Snapped on 10/31/10)

I can't believe that I spaced on photographing myself wearing my new and improved Red Riding Hood suit (what a dunce) but at least I had the wherewithal to snap a few pics. of my shredded butt (before and after the stitches) while I was stuck celebrating Halloween in the ER...

...and that my dear friends, is the beginning and the end of a weekend that I will not soon forget...no need to worry though, the middle is nipping at their heels...

Busman's Holiday

Woo! After that last post, I'd say we're due for something a little less er...macabre? Whatchu fank? Aaaand since it is nearly Halloween and all, I figured - what better time to do a piece devoted entirely to the lighter side of costume and theme.

(Snapped on 8/12/10)

You might remember me mentioning in a recent post, that I dressed up as a beauty pageant winner (minus the "Miss Something or Other" sash) and did some self-portraits at the local county fair - while things were nice and quiet during the off-hours. This may have been the first time that I had to explain to folks in detail, the deal with dash photography - in order to then ask for permission to take pictures with their property...in this case - the dairy cows entered in the livestock competition. And every single time that I ran through my spiel, mouths fell open, and a quizzical look contorted the faces of the people I was petitioning. These were hard-working farmers, their wives and their kids, and they simply could not conceive of why I would want to do such a thing...they looked at me as if I was nuts. Nevertheless, they politely acquiesced to my unusual request to photograph myself with their prize-winning animals, and by the time I was through - the children were vying for me to take pics. with the animals belonging to them specifically, and some of the grown-ups were smiling...

(Snapped on 8/14/10)

One Saturday morning a friend of mine texted to say that he was going to the thrift store at the Old Chapel and did I want to join him. Of course I said, "YES!" because for one thing, I had no prior knowledge that Old Chapel even had a thrift store, but also - I am always on the hunt for inexpensive garb to wear in my pics.. 

I could not believe the massive load of treasures that I took home with me, and as I recall I spent only $5 - $3 of which was the change that I should've gotten back, but I just felt too guilty...and so I told the lady to keep it as a donation. It was fabulous! Not only had I scored major booty, but I also felt a bit philanthropic - double win!

Anyway, one of my purchases was a little girl's pinafore (size 5T, haha! Can you believe that?) and the minute I had it in my hot little hands, I began mentally putting the pieces together for a shoot that I could stage in my kids' playroom...

Doesn't it look like we keep it all neat and tidy? Well don't be fooled, because just behind where the camera sat on its table, was a mammoth pile of all the crap that had been right where the pictures were staged...

(Snapped on 8/15/10)

While shopping at Gabriel Brothers (yet another reliable haunt for finding really cool costumes for cheap) I happened upon a pair of leggings that I would never dare wear as part of a serious outfit - but they instantly brought to mind, "ZOMBIE SHOOT"! 

I pictured the decay and the wreckage of a junkyard to be the perfect backdrop for the theme, but when I called the only junkyard that I could find in the phonebook, and told them that I'm an artist and that I take photos of myself, and that I was hoping that they'd let me do my zombie thing at their place...there was this long pause...after which I endured a fairly rigorous Q&A session, which led to added confusion and ultimately an irritated, "NO!"...*bah*

All right, no problem - I knew just who to call. My secret source really delivered! He totally hooked me up with the most killer junkyard where I was granted run of the entire place for hours...I had an absolute blast climbing on and around the junk cars and splashing and stomping through muddy puddles. But the best part was that the people who worked there, were astonishingly pleasant to me...even going so far as to extend an open invitation for me to come back and shoot any time - yesssss!

(Snapped on 8/23/10)

DinosaurLand is a local attraction that is so old that it's practically prehistoric. I've always delighted in its cheesy mid-century kitsch, and my kids and I have messed around there, many times. 

I guess it wouldn't be too hard to imagine, that for me to wanna shoot there would be something of a no-brainer. And I reckon the only thing that held me up from actually doing so, was devoting the time to making my outfit. Turned out my little cave-girl ensemble was very easy to fashion, honestly the hardest part was scrounging around my back field for the bones that I needed to sew on the top and to use as an accessory in my hair.

Knowing that I'd have to run it by the manager, instead of waltzing in and acting like I own the place - I wore a shift over top of the revealing costume. I approached a woman behind the counter who turned out to be the owner, and gave her the lowdown about my slef-portraits. After punctuating my monologue with, "So, is it cool if I take some pictures with the dinosaurs?" she responded, "No thanks. I'm really not interested"

I was like, "Wait, wha? I'm not trying to sell you anything..." I dunno, she was obviously completely confused (maybe the bone in my hair threw her off? Who knows) but her way of handling it was to tell me (in so many words) to hit the road, take a hike, beat it - SCRAM! But when I assured her that it was my intention to pay the admission, she quipped in this sassy, smart-alecky tone, "Well. I guess if you pay to get in, I can't stop you from taking your pictures" Jeez, sorRY! She was way worse to deal with than those ole junkyard grumps on the phone...

The DinosaurLand pictures were much tougher to get than one might think just by lookin' at 'em. I mean for starters, I wasn't wearing undies, so every time the wind blew (and believe me - it blew!) all my girl stuff was fully exposed. AND since it is a "family" style destination, and there were kids and their parents swarming the goddamned place, I was constantly ducking and hiding and darting from one spot to the next...trying to be where no one else was. Just as soon as I was sure I'd have a minute to myself, another group of people would appear...grrrrr...

I had thought doing DinosaurLand would be a rollicking good time, but it wound up to be highly stressful...

(Snapped on 8/31/10)

The first week that my kids were back in school this fall, I dropped 'em off and drove over to the post office. On my way there, I glanced over at the fire station, and saw a cluster of 8 or 9 horrifically demolished cars. "Ooh, ooh! I wanna shoot THERE!" I thought. So I rang the bell by the fire station door and when the assistant Fire Chief appeared, I plead my case. Without hesitation he said, "Knock yourself out. Just be careful...Lotsa sharp edges" I was elated!

I already had plans for that day and so I asked, "Is it ok if I wait and shoot tomorrow?" He nodded "Yes".

The next morning after taking my kids to school, I stopped by my mechanic's shop (conveniently, right across the street from the fire station) and asked if I could borrow their BIGGEST wrench, and not only did they loan me that monster of a wrench, they let me use some old grease to smear on my face and gave me a red rag to dangle from my pocket..."You can't be a mechanic without one"...Love those guys!

Two days later, I realized just how lucky I was to have done the mechanic spoof with those irreparably damaged vehicles...cuz the lot where they once stood, was now empty...

(Snapped on 9/28/10)

When I found this kimono thingy at my favorite thrift store, I couldn't have been more delighted. I had filed it away in the back of mind, that someday I should take self-portraits amid the gorgeous Asian gardens on the grounds of a nearby historic landmark, but for some reason nothing had ever materialized...that is - until the thrift store find acted as a catalyst.

Once again, I asked permission, and once again I was interrogated like a detainee, about my specific intentions...good lord. But! I was given permission (after paying admission) to help myself to the gardens  for the sake of my pics....and fortunately no one ever caught me stepping over the caution tape and ignoring the "DO NOT ENTER" signs, which were meant to keep folks away from this irresistibly charming, little structure (I never could determine exactly why it was roped off)

The bummer about these pics. was that - I had worn a pair of my daughter's (very small) sweatpants since as usual, I was sportin' an unfurnished basement (cough) and when I peeled 'em off to get ready for the pictures, the derned elastic at the bottom had left deep grooves in my legs - a mistake I will not make again.

(Snapped on 10/16/10)

I drive past this fantastic, miniature house - nearly every single day of my life...And since I am perennially scouting out nifty locations, the tiny dwelling has spoken to me for awhile. It whispers, "I've got an idea - you be Red Riding Hood, and I'll be Grandma's house?" I habitually salivated over the thought of it, but was remiss about making the necessary arrangements...until...

...a few weeks ago! I was driving home from my daily visit to Sheetz, when I saw the dearest old man working on a tractor in the field on which the little house sits. I parked in the road and got out to ask how he felt about me taking pictures there sometime. Oh my god, he was the most adorable thing. I swear, I don't think he ever stopped smiling! Chuckling, he agreed that a Red Riding Hood theme would be pretty damn perfect...

Now you have to understand something, this house is in plain view of the northbound traffic that travels the two-lane highway close by. Like, if someone driving by had thrown a rock outta their window, chances are better than good it woulda hit me. I was well aware that folks could see me, but I banked on the fact that they would be moving so fast, that what I was doing (and wearing) would not fully register in their minds (hope, hope)

But then...a man pulled up right out front of the little house, blew the horn on his idling truck, and through his window I could see him motioning angrily as if to say, "HEY! What the hell are you doing?!"...uh oh...

I walked over, he rolled down his window and I explained that the older gentleman who owns the property had given me permission to be there. Mellowing out a bit he said, "Oh, that's my dad...he's 83" and then he said, "I drove past and saw you, and thought - "What is that crazy woman doing?!"" We both laughed as I assured him that I wasn't actually crazy...maybe just a teensy bit weird, that's all. 

I was happy that we worked it all out fairly quickly, because it was kind of awkward to be standing there so close...talking to him through the open window...wearing the outfit that I happened to be wearing...

I stopped by the little house again (just the other day) to put one of my Red Riding Hood photos (along with a "thank you" note) in the old man's mailbox as promised. But as luck would have it - he and his son were out working in the field, so I was able to give it to them in person...(they both seemed to really like the picture!)

Lately when people ask me what I'm gonna be for Halloween, I say, "Are you kidding me? I celebrate Halloween every week. I'm thinkin' I might sit it out"...

ONLY JOKING! Hell, me not doing Halloween would be like Charlie Sheen being faithful or staying sober...BLASPHEMY! Such things are simply not in our genetic make-up.

This year I'll celebrate Halloween as one of the characters featured in this post...but I'm not sayin' which one! So, if you wanna find out - you'll have to find me Saturday night, down in good ole Richmond, Va....K, ta ta...I'm out!