Showing posts with label Modeling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Modeling. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 31, 2019

"Borderline"


 Long ago friend, now mainly FB friend, JV gave me Madonna's "Borderline" as a theme song for 2020 so I'm adding it to my current playlist so I can be fabulous every time it comes on. I mean--it won't take over Post Malone's "Circles," which is on my running playlist like 15 times to up its chances of showing up. But Madonna's song was more instrumental than JV could know. I think I was really consumed by its depiction of modeling and certainly had it playing in my head during my early photoshoots.


Back to today in 2019, where I took an awful photo at my visa interview in Grand Rapids, but at least I didn't make such a huge fuss about it like my loveys are doing here. I'd asked for a picture of them at breakfast, and here's the best of what I got 😍.

Things are still in a bit of flux with work, with health, with... things... But perhaps that's the nature of life?

I'm closing out 2019 with gratefulness and hope and love. 💓 




Friday, January 25, 2019

Glyph of Myself

my prayers soon wick 
into still damp night air
incensed with fear, fervor

they will stick--resting 
here, wrestling over there, 
hope blossoming into prayer

so quick as my once human 
landscape--conjured from time
and conquered through age--fades

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Thursday, November 15, 2018

"Not to poor to contour"




Book club friend G just introduced me to the stylings of Sailor J.

Now, I'm crying from the funny and feminism; I'm dying because my stomach hurts.

Here's a link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zJaaLXZwmsU

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Sunday, September 25, 2011

Size Swap

Fun clothes swap yesterday: dedicated clotheslines, lots of noshing, unedited critique, even a curtained off dressing area--although everyone was stripping in the middle of the room by the end of the evening.

And I gave away my most "hoochie" shifts to someone all of a foot shorter and way more slender than I've ever been. And shazzam--the clothes looked adorable and right on their new owner! (Apparently, it's only questionably "skanky" when you're showing both leg and cleavage at the same time.)

V and H sized me up with exaggeratedly narrowed eyes and asked if I take a size ___ or ___. And I had to say I've no idea: it's been a while since I've shopped at places that sell stuff by numbered sizes, I'm not modeling anymore, and bonus plus--I have absolutely no idea what I weigh either.

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Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Look-See

Sunday’s shoot went well. As far as I can tell :).

Li’l A got in on the action towards the end with a shot where his dimpled, baby hands are on either side of my belly and his mouth is all scrunched up to kiss my belly-button. Big A was working and wasn’t there :/.

On Monday, I went into the city for a look-see and had to explain to Li’l A what that meant. He was incredulous: “You mean, they’ll look at you and say whether they want you or not?” Exactly.

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Thursday, July 05, 2007

Fake a Pose

Because of the pregnancy, there’s been no modeling. The first photog I e-mailed with news of my impending and inevitable weight gain wrote me back: "Well that just kills it [the project]. But congratulations anyway.” The unreserved rejection implicit in every word and—the independent cruelty of the words “kills” and “anyway”--made my eyes prickle with tears.

But don’t go and feel too sorry for me :). Everything made my eyes prickle with tears back then and I’ve since been too busy with nausea or schoolwork and alternating between anxiety and euphoria about the baby to miss modeling too much. Although I must say that I missed (and do miss miss miss) the easy money.

But lately I’ve learnt to appreciate the touchingly comical and vulnerable way my belly triumphantly leads the way. And think that it might be nice to have a few pictures from this time.

So I’ve let my agency hook me up with a few projects. I’ll record how it goes. My first shoot is this Sunday; if you’re reading, please wish me luck!


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Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Parallax

This is how a modeling gig works: Assorted assistants fuss over you, paint you, fiddle with your hair etc., then the lights go on, and the photographer says, “beautiful” or “perfect.”

This past couple of weeks, there have been zero modeling gigs on my calendar. I’ve seen entirely too many doctors (and they’ve seen too much of me, but that’s another matter).

But this is how a visit to the doctor goes: Assorted assistants fuss over you , paint you (with gel), fiddle with your hair etc., then the lights go on (or off, if it‘s an ultrasound), and the doctor says, “beautiful” or “perfect.”

Neither the photographers or the doctors are really talking about me at all, but the doctors even less so than the photogs. That’s almost as ‘ironic’ as a black fly in your frigging chardonnay.


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