Monday, June 25, 2012

I Was a Mermaid

I have always wanted to be a mermaid. Since I was a little girl. I had the red hair and fair skin and blue eyes and I grew up watching The Little Mermaid. It was a fairy tale. Things like that don't come true, and fairy tales especially don't happen for people like me.  So I gave up on it.

But it happened.

Things lined up so perfectly and it was thought out so well. The weather was warm, the time of day was perfect, and we had everything we needed.  I put on that tail and I sat in that water and I gazed across the lake and enjoyed every part of it.  The smell didn't bother me.  The breeze was warm and it kept most of the bugs away.

I was a freaking mermaid.

With a freaking tail.


Nothings gives me a bigger rush that creating something. I don't think I have posted in this blog about my modeling adventures much, so here is a sneak peek. A quick glance at why I do it.

A lot of people wonder why I even try and go through the effort if I am not getting paid. It isn't about taking sexy pictures to get in magazines or to be famous. It was never about that. OK, it actually was about that when I was a lot younger and was going through modeling school. But that was about a decade ago.

Again... It's not about the money. I don't get paid for most of the work I do. In fact, it actually ends up costing me money if anything and it is an expense for the photographers that they are willing to take. Because we work together to create something.

Now it's about creating. It's about the art. You may thing posing in front of a camera isn't art, but it is. It's difficult. To capture the images that I try to create a lot of things need to happen. There needs to be chemistry with the photographer and the model. Not of the romantic kind. In a way, you need to be able to read each others minds or at least feel at ease with each other. How else are you going to know what the goal is or what kind of image you are both trying to capture? If one of you is speaking Greek and the other is speaking French, you are totally not going to be on the same page and all the shots will misfire. Twisting your body into whatever pose the photographer has in mind isn't always very easy either.

It's about the art. It's about the rush that comes from creating an everlasting image that can have an impact and inspire others. It's about pretending to be something you're not, even if it's just for an hour.

It isn't about body image or size with the ones I work with. That doesn't matter any more than what brand of water you bring with you. What really matters is the goal you have in mind and what you think about yourself. Doing these photoadventures has brought out a good side of me. It has made me more confident in myself and my own abilities. It opened up a whole new world where I could dress up and play pretend and make something out of nothing. It's made it possible for me to get my mind working on something positive.

For a couple hours, I'm not thinking about the curriculum I have to plan or the bills I have to pay. I'm not thinking about the last guy that broke my heart or whatever romantic situation I am in.

I can be a hardcore Rockstar.

I can have a tea party in the forest with some stuffed animals.

I can be a mermaid, catching a breath of fresh (stinky) air and getting a clear above water view of the sunset.

I can breathe.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Cotton Candy

He had me frozen - wrapped around him and strung along by sugar spun words and empty calorie promises that glistened in the sparkling sun. He has made me feel deceptively weak, fragile, and paper thin. But at the same time, some how, he inflated me to feel larger than life. My heart was twisted with his cotton candy charm.

I used to shrink with a the gentle pressure of his fingers and melt on contact with his lips like it was what I was made for.

For a moment, I tasted delicious and I fulfilled a trifling need that could be fulfilled by nearly anything. Then he would toss me aside while I awaited the next craving.

But I deserve more than to be thrown away with the rest of the garbage after a few mouthfuls of what felt like an empty soul had been carelessly devoured. Mouthfuls that now feel stolen.

Every part of me should be savored - my heart, my emotions, my feelings - not just my shell. Not just this shell that merely contains the pieces that have taken so long to fall into place and fit together.

I am not something that can be found whenever the craving attacks his taste buds and consumes his mind until the "want" is satisfied.

My specific flavor and uniqueness should bring someone to a time and place when the sun was warm and the water was high. A place where the waves crash on the shore and their feet tickle the sand. My flavor should be craved by someone who can imagine me in a place where we are happy together... It should be savored by someone who understands and appreciates what it is that made me who and what I am today.





.... And delicious.

(**Disclaimer** This is not to be taken in a perverted way, for those of you who are trying to twist it. I am merely comparing the way someone made me feel after recent events to how easily and sweetly cotton candy has a tendency to melt and dissolve so quickly. Kaythanksbye.)