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!  

The Morning After

WARNING! The images you are about to see ain't pretty. 

(Hey, it can't always be about the beauty shot...now can it?) 

Please proceed with caution...

(All pics. snapped on 10/26/10)

I have to admit - I did feel sorta badly about ending the last post on such a morbid note...For all I knew, you guys were sitting there at home, gnawing your nails, afraid I'd been roofied, brutally assaulted and left for, well...dead? And so to dispel any worries that you might've had about my welfare...I have returned to assure you that all is well.

See? What'd I tell ya'? Everything is perfectly fine. I came to in the morning, and although a leetle worse for the wear - it wasn't anything that a hot shower, some anti-bacterial soap, and a couple of Advil couldn't fix.

Ok so, you wanna know the truth? I didn't really crash here last night. Did I trick ya', huh huh? Even for a fraction of a second? The sad thing is, that not long ago - it very easily could've really happened...

I wonder if I'm the only one who looks at these pics., and am transported back in time - to the heyday of my old Big Ugly Blog (www.biguglytruck.blogspot.com)...I don't know about you guys, but I find them to be eerily reminiscent of that wildly reckless period when I repeatedly tempted fate, but somehow avoided danger and disaster despite an overabundance of bad choices in regards to men...oh so many men...

During that time, concerned friends would warn that if I didn't behave more responsibly, I might very well end up in a situation not that far removed from the one depicted in this photo essay...or god forbid - catastrophically worse. And yet every word that they uttered, fell on selectively deaf ears...But in looking back on it now, I couldn't agree with them more.

All I have to say is - thank goodness all of that nonsense is behind me. Somehow I escaped my impetuous period unscathed, and what a relief to be able to make light of it now...

Preparing for the dreaded walk-of-shame...

After downloading the pictures from the shoot the night before, I was seriously a smidgeon freaked out. I don't know if it was the content specifically, or if it was more a case of knowing that I had intentionally wallowed in that pile of revolting filth, in my attempt to get some thought-provoking shots...regardless - I didn't like the disquieting cliff-hanger ending to the story, and I resolved to shoot its conclusion the next morning...

Any time I leave the safety of my home to take pics., but especially during the wee hours of the night - I feel this combination of exhilaration and fear...and I dig it. But in the carport that night, I was more tremulous than usual - partly because I had no idea what I was literally getting myself into...like were there critters, or their remains, or sharp things, or was there...poo?

It wasn't until the sequel shoot, that the daylight revealed the true magnitude of disgustingness of the set...*cringe* I'm seriously not sure how I didn't slice the shit outta some, or many parts of my body - there were large chunks of broken glass throughout the sand and the other mysterious substances covering the floor. Not to mention, even after my scalding, soapy showers - I still felt like there were things crawling all over me...yoook! 

But what made the daytime shoot that much more uncomfortable, was that it was light out. Dude, I'm accustomed to that being a good thing. Problem was - the carport sits up close to the road, there were more cars than ever driving past, my lawnmower repair guy lives in the house right next door AND my boobs and ass were hangin' out! 

I did my best to stay focussed and ignore the unusual number of drivers, as well as the voices I heard coming from my lawnmower guy's yard...But I am not kidding, I was shaking the whole time! 

When possible, I try and only end a shoot after I feel that I've gotten a sufficient amount of decent frames, but I general won't quit until I like the last shot. Once that finally happened there in the carport, I think I've never been so relieved to be through. I totally lucked out too, cuz as I was putting on my jeans, I heard a truck engine turn over, next door...aaaaahhhh! 

I got myself and my stuff out onto the road and was walking towards home before the truck pulled out...

I smiled at the driver through my smeared lipstick and he waved, and as I watched him process the look I had going on - running eye make-up, burrs in my nappy hair, sand and crap on my face - I saw him do a double-take before driving away...I shudder to think what he'd have done, had he caught me posing for one of the pictures above...

But you know something? No matter how disgusting or sketchy or creepy or painful, the legwork behind gathering material for this blog could never be as messed up as what I went through for the old one…

Freaks Come Out at Night

Felt like it took me forever to finally finish and post that last entry...but lemme tell ya' somethin' - the instant it was up and I had tweeted that it was, I indulged in a hankerin' to celebrate. It was nearly 11:30 at night, the air temp was uncannily warm, and I was all over the idea of staging a nighttime shoot...something I hadn't done in ages...

(Snapped on 8/06/10)

My first nighttime shoot, took place this past summer in the cemetery at my favorite - Old Chapel. Part of me was admittedly apprehensive about tromping around the cemetery at night, but surprisingly it had little to do with being scared about something supernatural occurring - I was more concerned about the chance that I might get hassled by the po-po. Best I could tell though, technically I wouldn't be trespassing since the gate at Old Chapel stays unlocked...

Along with my usual equipment I packed a flashlight, since I never use the flash on my camera and (obviously) the cemetery would be dark...and I have to say - I was pleasantly surprised by the dusty, grainy effect that the dim lighting bestowed upon these pics..

I shot for two hours straight, all the while absentmindedly wending my way to the farthest side of the graveyard. It wasn't until I had decided that I was done, broke character, and turned back into me - that I realized how far from my car I had wandered - and at that point I did get creeped out. I guess I had been concentrating so hard on the pics. that not only had I forgotten to worry about the possibility of getting in trouble, but until that moment I hadn't let the fact that I was in an ancient cemetery...completely alone...in the middle of the night - mess with my mind in the slightest. Once it had sunk in though, a wave of fear swept over me - yipes! I spastically collected my junk, hot-footed it across the seemingly endless sea of old graves, and made it safely to my car without incident...*phew*

(Snapped on 8/07/10)

The next night I took a break from editing the Old Chapel pics. (as well as the spoils from two other shoots that day) to top off an already productive 24 hours by staging an impromptu paparazzi thing in my driveway. Had I known in advance that my cute, little car would spend the evening as the best supporting actress in these pics. - I'd have given her a bath beforehand, but ah well...

This night I took advantage of having access to a power source - using a clamp lamp instead of the flashlight. And in order to shoot from an angle more accurately mimicking that of a paparazzo, I set the camera on a ladder rather than my trusty thrift store table. 

(Snapped on 8/11/10)

Although the quality of the photo above clearly sucks, the story behind it bears mentioning... 

This summer I had the pleasure of being body-painted (a first for me) and not by just any ole jackleg artist - but by lauded body-painter Brady Neher (featured in the October 2010 issue of Illusions Magazine!) We got started early in the day, in the hopes that we'd be done in enough time for me to display Brady's handiwork that night at the local county fair.

After 8 hours of painting my totally naked body (see below) Brady then spent an additional hour and a half - painting over the pasties and thong which we intentionally omitted for the first set of pics., but which were paramount in (hopefully) keeping me from getting arrested for indecent exposure at the fair... 

I threw on a little tank dress knowing that I'd have to walk a good distance from the parking lot back to where the rides were set up, and I was nervous about marching through the hordes of strangers wearing nothing but paint, pasties and a thong...especially since I was all by myself...

Fortunately, it's a short drive from my house to the fairgrounds, because it was hot as a muthah and the a.c. in my car doesn't work. But I managed to arrive, park and disembark before I started sweating through Brady's brilliant masterpiece. 

To say that I was dealing with a tough crowd that night, would definitely be an understatement. I mean think about it - it was tractor-pull night at the Clarke County Fair - a veritable mecca for grade A, small-minded rednecks (did I just say that?!), they literally had no clue what to make of me. And it wasn't just funny looks they were giving me, folks were most forthcoming with their derogatory remarks. But I just smiled and continued blazing a trail to the spot where I'd planned on taking my pictures...all the while wondering if I was gonna get my ass kicked in the parking lot on the way back to my car, later on...

I set up my table and camera, waited for the Sheriff's deputies to pass (I've never seen so many cops in one place in my life!) slipped outta the little dress, set the timer and raced over to get into frame...

After the picture was snapped, I went back to my camera to examine the photo and I hated it. I reset the timer, all set to try again - when suddenly the most tragic thing happened! One of the pasties fell off, landing sticky-side-down in the gravel...oh NO!... 

Knowing that I'd never get the now crusty pasty to stick, and that I couldn't pose for my photos without it - I was crushed to have to call it a night. As I put my dress back on and glumly packed up to leave, one of the ride operators motioned for me to come over. I explained what I'd been doing and why I'd quit so abruptly and he high-fived me for attempting it at all, it was nice...

I returned to the fairgrounds the next afternoon, during that quiet time before the rides are running, and the only folks there are some farmers, their kids and their livestock, along with a handful of carnival workers. I was dressed like a beauty pageant winner in a floor length gown wearing a tiara and tons of whorish make-up and so needless to say, I stood out...yet again. 

The very first person with whom I spoke (the guy who told me where to park) noticed my interesting attire and when I told him I was gonna take pics. of myself with the farm animals, he enthusiastically asked, "Wait, you're not the painted lady...are you?!" as did several more people before I left, I was ecstatic! I had been so disappointed that after all of Brady's hard work, I had failed to properly photograph myself causing the scene that I'd imagined. But learning firsthand that even a few people had heard about and in some cases even seen the "painted lady", and thought that what "she'd" done was badass...convinced me that none of the effort was for naught...

(Snapped on 8/11/10)

(Snapped on 8/12/10)

The dead-in-the-road pics. happened on a summer night, after it rained for the first time in weeks. As soon as the rain had quit, this lovely steamy mist hovered over the road out front of my house and I couldn't help but think that in conjunction with my car's headlights - it would make for a pretty spooky scene. 

Obviously, I didn't devote a whole lot of time in deliberating over the components of some complicated costume. I stripped down naked, stuck a headband in my hair, drew dark lines around my eyes, parked my car at the end of my driveway facing the road, illuminated the roadway using the headlamps - and in no time I became fresh roadkill...over and over again...

Whenever a motorist approached, I simply hopped in my car, turned off the lights and ducked down til the vehicle passed...easy peezy... 

(Snapped on 10/24/10)

Last weekend, in honor of the Halloween season - my kids and I and a couple of friends, piled into my car late at night, and drove to a purportedly haunted town in West Virginia...our mission - to scare up some spirits (or vice versa). Never one to pass on an opportunity to photograph myself whenever a unique opportunity arises, I warned everyone in advance that I was coming prepared (with costume and camera) and would likely be snapping self-portraits.  

Thank you so much - to my friend (the other adult on the excursion) who kept all 4 kids occupied out front of the old jail, patiently listening for the moans of long since dead prisoners - while simultaneously affording me the luxury of pretending to be a ghost, myself...

'Twas a truly excellent way to cap off an already stellar night...

(Snapped on 10/26/10)

Which brings us to my most recent nighttime photo shoot...the one following my blog post the other night...

Just up the road from my place, is an abandoned house with a car port overflowing with trash and debris and god alone knows what else. I've been wanting to do some kind of shoot there for awhile now, but until the other night - I knew not what.

I put on a sparkly little party dress and my jeans and a jacket over top, so that I would look less conspicuous if someone happened to drive by me on my midnight jaunt to the site (no one did). Once there, I removed everything but the dress and added a boot to one foot...and with only the flashlight providing minimal light, I got...my...self...down...in...that...mess...

How's it Hangin', Haters?

(Snapped on 10/17/10)

Do any of you guys find anything particularly outrageous about the outfit that I'm wearing in the photos on this post? (For godssakes - at least I'm wearing clothing this time) Ok, well how 'bout what I'm doing in the photos - you see anything wrong with that? Right. I didn't think so either. So could someone please tell me then, why folks were so visibly flipped out by watching me innocently photographing myself on the "dance floor" and elsewhere around the grounds of the spectacular estate where our annual Balloon Festival was recently held? I mean seriously...is what I do really all that bizarre or even such a difficult concept to grasp? One guy actually shrugged his shoulders, rolled his eyes and shot me a nasty look as if to say, "Aight, ya' dumb bitch...suitcherself" when I responded to his offer to take the picture for me with, "No thanks. I'm doing "dash" photography, the whole point is to snap the pictures myself"

Or could it be that most people really are that uptight......I am inclined to vote for the latter...

(Snapped on 10/17/10)

Ok...so in all fairness, not everyone was a total grouch about me publicly fulfilling my right to artistic expression. One lady came up to me and said she'd been watching me for awhile and that she thought what I was doing was cool. And after explaining the whole 10 sec. timer thing to two teenage girls who approached me and timidly asked what the deal was, they were so fascinated that they followed me everywhere I went, until my battery died and I left...it was cute. Plus look - I did get that one lady to smile (see above) But still...check out the elk there in the background. I swear he seems downright pissed off! His expression and body language were def more in line with the disapproving looks that my behavior generated from most onlookers. It's so funny to me that even a guy in a goofy elk costume could feel justified in exhibiting his obvious objection to my harmless antics...

(Snapped on 10/17/10)

But that's all right, cuz I exacted my revenge when I set up my cam and took pics. of myself dancing in front of him...(wait...is he giving me the finger?!)

Anyway, my intention here is not to bitch and moan about being some embittered, misunderstood "artist" - quite the contrary. The purpose of this entry in its purest form - is to show off these pictures that I thought didn't turn out half badly - thank you scenic Long Branch and you too - beautiful, deep blue sky! But while I'm here, I'd also like to thank my haters...

A Twitter friend quoted his pastor the other day when he tweeted, "Send your haters a Thank You card" and the instant I read it, I latched on to the idea. 

It's been my experience with haters, that 9 times out of 10 the most vicious ones are people who know me in real life (although sometimes only vaguely) and by and large I find them to be reprehensible cowards. I'll skip the part about how so many of my haters also happen to be women who would have everyone believe that they are pious, Christian do-gooders (gag). Don't get me wrong, I do know that there are good Christians out there (my dear Twitter friend for example) but these women are not that. The biggest bullies I've encountered in my adult life without exception, are "ladies" who wear their religion on their sleeves...and after getting a whiff of my alternative lifestyle, treat me as if I'm Hester Prynne's kid sister...with leprosy. But wait - before I stoop to their level by going off on some wicked tangent, I shall instead hold my tongue in regards to that subject... 

Ok so, break the whole cowardly haters thing down even further and you'll discover that there are several common methods that your acquaintances will typically implement when hatin' on you. At the Balloon Festival, I got a taste of the one where a person acts like they're your good buddy to your face, but later on you catch 'em staring you down, snickering and whispering behind a cupped hand into the ear of another colleague. Admirable...very 6th grade...

Lately though the trend seems to be more of an unwarranted cold shoulder, from people who used to be perfectly polite, even friendly towards me - and to whom I have never personally committed any infraction. I find it very interesting that what I do in my personal life deems me worthy of unmitigated passive aggression. The buzz about my photo blog is so much more negative and epidemic than the comparatively lenient backlash I withstood in regards to my old blog...which absolutely blows my mind. Cuz if you ask me, this blog is light and fun and I've always hoped it would convey a positive message about having the confidence to pursue an artistic inclination (no matter how unorthodox, obscure, or obscene?) as well as celebrate the human body and all of the cool things that it can be capable of doing...but evidently either I've missed my mark, or many have completely missed the point.

I know that I probably sound uber-paranoid, but my kids even notice the succession of slights, after which they comment...completely unprompted.

There's another form of silent treatment that's really odd to me, although I'm not totally convinced that it places the aggressor under the umbrella heading of "hater". Let's just say though, that it in no way has me "feeling the love"...

Ever since I got my photo blog up and running, conversation in general on Facebook, has become conspicuously suspended. And I'm not just talking about a lack of input good or bad, from my FB "friends" (most of whom have known me for ages) in regards to the posts on The Big Ugly. By now I've gotten rather used to posting entries into a virtual vacuum...What I'm talking about is more of an uncomfortable, inexplicable echo syndrome which chronically follows my unacknowledged attempts at simple small-talk. Sorta like, "HELLO...hello...hello..." For instance - there've been a few times recently, when I wrote on the walls of or sent messages to people with whom I considered myself to be friendly, maybe not super tight friends, but friendly just the same...and I get nothing...no response at all. The same goes for new FB friends who may already know me but who've only recently friended me. I accept their friend requests and may write to thank them and say "HI"...and what do I get? Absolute silence. Like, what tha freak you guys? You're gonna friend me, but you're not gonna talk to me...righteous. I would actually prefer them to tell me to "Go to hell" than to leave me dangling the way that they do... 

To my FB friends who blatantly ignore me I suggest, if there's something I've done that makes you never want to talk to me, then why don't you simply un-friend me? I've grown to expect being shunned by the Bible-thumpers, but by my "progressive" pals from the past? Preposterous...

(Snapped on 10/17/10)

Now...this is the part in the story where the metaphorical beams of light break through the ominous, black clouds. I'm talkin' about the few, the proud, the brave - who consistently remind me that they do appreciate this endeavor about which I've become so passionate...and even go so far as to set the record straight to the growing contingent of Big Ugly nay-sayers who formulate their opinions of me - on hearsay, instead of seeing for themselves what my site is all about...and for that I am infinitely grateful. The input of even a couple of good peeps, really does negate the animosity (silent or otherwise) of the meddlesome "moral" majority…in my mind, at least. 

To my haters I extend my sincerest "Thank You". You don't frighten me and I'm not gonna change just for you (if anything, I'm gonna get worse). Oh and I'll keep on truckin' if you'll keep on spreadin' the word. Your slander is my free advertising...Halleluiah, Hosanna and AMEN!