Should

I really should write more.

I type these words and they stare back at me in blinking black. This phrase breaks so many rules ingrained in me. My high school English teacher bore into his students that the words “really, very and it,” should never be used. Perhaps the word “never” is a bit drastic, but I try to avoid those words. Who needs the first two of them anyway? Who needs words that add so little to the meaning of a sentence. Not so unlike calling a photo, “beautiful,” without further meaning. Then there is the word, “it.” This teacher taught us “It = shit,” a lesson punctuated by a drawing of a bull defecating with a large crossed out circle over it, much in the manner of a no parking or smoking sign. This left a lasting impression, as did the deduction of major points on any paper that included any of these three words.

Now I get to the concept of “should.” I used to use this word on a much too frequent basis. I thought in terms of what I should be doing. The problem about “should” is if I did not do what I had felt I should do, I failed. Wrapped up on that one word was a whole bundle of anxiety. I cannot proclaim independence from that wretched word, nor my anxiety, but I am weakening my ties. I like to think in terms of, “it would be a good idea to,” and if I do what I intended on doing, I have succeeded. On the other side, if I did not do something, there was not a failure on my part, but a choice to do something else.

On the topic of “should” and things I chose to do…

I began running recently as a resolve to fix my butt. Much to my horror, I gained about 1.729 pounds in the past few months. I did cross country in high school and can proudly boast having officially come in last place in a race (running while having an asthma attack is less than efficient), but do not actually care for running, yet. My resolve is to lose weight this holiday season. So keep that fudge out of my reach. And I will keep myself putting on my shoes, cranking up my music and running though the streets of wherever I may be.

I see you looking at me as though I am crazy. This crumply butt I whine about is considered fantastic by all except myself. Models are insane – that is a fact verified by all sources. And by all sources I mean verified by me.

This Jewish girl is headed off to have a wonderful Christmas, and wishes you all a really, really, really awesome holiday.
Seriously though, have yourselves a great Christmas. Enjoy the company of those you love and who love you.

Photo by Jay Cole of Colorado.

Return

Life can be very ironic. I have decided on past returns to Dallas that I had little desire to be here much anymore. My look is not very marketable here where boobs, babes and bikinis seem to prevail and couchsurfing in my old stomping grounds makes me feel like a bum. And yet right now I am busy, constantly figure modeling for art classes and working with photographers.

My couchsurfing experiences feel a bit more proper this time around and almost nostalgic. June 2008 I answered a craigslist ad that resulted in my first proper photoshoot. At that point I had no idea what I was doing and this was the photographer’s first run with a model, but I answered the ad and showed up at the photographer’s door. The next few hours were a bit awkward with us both so new and some of the photos laugh-worthy, but it became the first of many shoots together. Tonight I will be couchsurfing with Greg Hawkins and tomorrow we will shoot again. I am trading photoshoots for the amazing website he built me (www.keiragrant.com).

The past two nights I stayed with EZ Cambranis and Julie Robles. A photographer and sculpter couple that I met last summer. EZ and I worked together back when I was toying with nude modeling but afraid of the social ramifications of having nude images out there. This was perfect for his project since he wanted nudes without a face, and my mane of curly hair made for a perfect mask. He gave me a print from an image we did together, and I almost wish I had a home just so I could put the print up for display.

Alligators, chickens and closets oh my

Several days ago I took a day trip over to San Antonio for a couple of shoots and had the opportunity to catch up with a photographer friend, David Boisvert. For our previous shoot I sported sooty nipples, big fake eyelashes, black nail polish and explored being vampy. There was no shooting this time, but he fed me vegetables and wine, and introduced me to some bad horror films with nude Italian supermodel zombies. Next time I foresee more cultural introductions and creative concepts.

When I walked into the shoot location for a shoot with Krist Mann, I immediately knew the afternoon would be exciting. With an inspiring location and photographer, and blazing opera on the radio, the entire shoot was a high. When I returned home from the shoot, I drew an abstract version of the corner art installation in the home, my hands scribbling suitcases, branches, alligators, hedgehogs, a weird propeller, things from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, wreaths, mannequins, a vacuum cleaner bird. The afternoon also featured portraiture with stuffed chickens, a story line about a creeping cricket, and sexier photos on a bed with a cowboy hat. I can never be accused for lacking in the creativity department.

I have always liked small spaces. When I was tiny I would take things out of drawers and sit in them. I grew up a bit and progressed to sitting on the shelves in my closet. Now I can model in tight spaces and it is all part of my job. I did a short figure modeling session under a sink the other day with an artist friend. They were all quick poses, but the idea was to explore poses within a confined space. Give me a box, a small cave, a closet, or a corner and I am rather happy. Perhaps that is why I am not too adverse to the idea of sleeping in my small, cramped car. While on the topic of small modeling spaces, here is a photo by Zeitgeist Photography in Allentown.

Grounded in Houston

The recent change of plans I had for the next couple of weeks of December amuse me. Originally I was going to sublet an apartment in Houston for the three weeks before heading to North Carolina, but then a shoot here and there and the class I was going to take changed all of that and my schedule involved zipping back and forth between Texas cities for the month. Now what is my schedule? Besides a quick trip to San Antonio and a few days in Dallas, this month I am staying put in Houston. Yes, my original plan has come into fruition.

If I keep writing dull posts like this, I’ll be writing to an empty room.

My back by Richard Tallent from Beaumont, TX.
Posted for several reasons.
I am back in Houston.
I turned my back on the Landmark Forum.
And I will be back with more in this entry to fill you in about it all.

Waking up at the prospect of Landmark Forum and continual travels

7:13am woke up. Dallas was all around. A chilly, commercial Dallas – this is not judgment of the city on my account, just an accurate description of my current surroundings – wally world. Perhaps it was stupidity or stubbornness on my part, but I slept in my car in my “home base” last night. My arrival was 1:30 am, and I felt rude to ask someone to let me into their homes that late at night. I am sure a friend would have extended this generosity towards me, but I truly felt it was asking too much. With a car, I had some protection from the surprising below freezing temperature and any crazies who may have been wandering through the streets anyway.

Today I am supposed to check out the Landmark Forum. My siblings are incredibly involved in this program and had pressured me to take the course. My brother is one of the most pulled together individuals I know, even at 23 years old, and I figured if he found this course beneficial and not to be the scam it seems, then perhaps that could be true. Unfortunately I did not begin my research about the course until a couple of days ago, and now my mind is swarming with ideas about how this class may change me for the worse, disrupting my outlook on my life that I am in the process of molding. Forty hours of instruction without being allowed to write anything, look at my phone, leave to use the restroom when I desire or have any freedoms that I currently enjoy sounds a bit excessive. Three consecutive days of 13 hours of speaking to and at me sounds unbearable. Theoretically I have the option of getting the tuition back (my sister paid for this course for me as a Hanukah gift since she feels so strongly about the positive impact it had on her life and could have on mine) as long as I show up for the first bit of the course. If this is the case then I will be there to get her money back, for at this time I am not in the mindset to go through with this. But this could all change.

Not all traveling models are without a home base. Most models have a home somewhere and go on modeling tours periodically. While this is probably much easier to do, this is not the right route for me. With the travel bug in my system, I have an easier time comprehending paying for gas when I do not also need to pay for rent at home. If I knew where exactly I wanted to be rooted, and could do so for less than $350 a month, then I would be interested. Unfortunately, right now my last home was in Dallas, and I have no desire to continue living here, nor is it practical. I would love to live in San Francisco, and that could work in terms of location, but not logistics – the price tag there is simply too much. So how long will I keep being without a home? The answer to this I do not know. What I can tell you is that I love my job and current lifestyle and currently the end is not in sight.

Sanitation Rant

I know I asked this previously, but the offer still remains. Anyone need a speckled model?

I have been speckled for about 9 days now. I went to Mississippi for a couple of days of shooting two weeks ago, and am now back in Texas with a not so sweet reminder of my trip. Concealer does the trick for covering the red speckles that adorn my torso, but I should not need to lather myself in make-up to go to a shoot. Facial make-up should be sufficient. I am convinced the allergic reaction is finally fading, but if it persists I will have to give in and hand over the payment for the shoot to a doctor.

This brings me to something I wish all people considered - sanitation and the safety.
I am open to exploring many shoot concepts, even if they sound a little bizarre. Now that I have encountered problems with this attempt to try most things, I will have to be a little more careful. Clearly, Mississippi mud and I did not get along very well. Or maybe it was the paint that was used for my body. I have been body painted before, and never with this reaction. There are some paints that are not appropriate for putting on a model, and "non-toxic" on a label does not denote safe for skin. This sounds like common sense, but repeatedly I have heard of inappropriate paints being used. Some people have more sensitive skin than others, and even if many models have not had a problem with a certain type of paint, it does not mean that no one will. (Surely now I know this!). Bondage is another area that sometimes makes me wary. I have done shoots where a photographer used a rope that has never been cleaned, and wanted to have a piece of the rope come into contact with my lower girly parts. While a loose rope as part of a shibari shoot does not bother me, the idea of the rope being used on another person, and now on me does not bode well in my mind. A sanitized rope or a new one would be a great solution.

I believe I am now finished with this rant.

Whirlwind of a photo by Simon Genry.

Texas

I made it back to Texas. Last night's drive was a rough one. Phone talking kept me awake, but after a weekend stuck in a benedryl daze, my late start on the road soon stretched into a slightly difficult drive. Finding a friendly Walmart to sleep at (with all this mention of that *insert adjective* store, maybe I can get some sponsorship from them) sounded all too appealing, but two friends talked me into making the drive. A couch generally trumps the backseat of my car in terms of comfort and practicality anyway.

This month I will be staying in ONE state. For three weeks I will be in Texas before running away to another state. But in general, there will be no jumping from state to state; instead, I am driving from Houston, to Dallas, to San Antonio, to Houston and back to Dallas during December. Perhaps not the most practical of schedules, but it often seems things do not work out as planned. So much for my vision of a restful, boring couple of weeks in an apartment. I'm too young for that anyway.

This morning I brought my home in for repair. While on my last trip from coast to coast, I had left my car in Dallas with a friend. The car needed a home and a little bit of babysitting, and my friend was without a car. I figured it was the ideal scenario. When I came back to Dallas, I found out my car had a run in with a fire hydrant three weeks ago and the fire hydrant clearly won. So today I finally had the chance to bring my duct taped car in to a repair place, and am now driving around in what feels like a boat. I do not begrudge my friend for the damage, accidents do happen, but still wish she had told me when the damage had been done so it could be repaired while I was out of town. I am partial to my car because it is "mine," and sometimes in a life of changing locations it is nice to have one thing that is constant and familiar.

Turkey Day

Some people spend their Thanksgiving day lounging around their home in pajamas, frantically making the finishing touches of a grand meal and essentially sleeping, eating and relaxing. I began my day by spooning with roadkill. I can see the fear and disgust bubbling up at the conjuring of this image and I promise you it was no where near as gross as imagined. My clothes were still on, my body about an inch away, and my nose didn't comprehend the foul smell for about 3 seconds.

The entire day of shooting was a delightful and new way to spend Thanksgiving day. Running in nature with bits of wardrobe and amazing, sparkling light made for great photos and a fantastically fun day. I even got to eat leftover Turkey day fare for dinner.

This is another Adam Moon photo from the day.

Home...New...

Today I am finally able to breathe. I have a place to stay for the rest of the week and call home. These days, any place I feel welcome, have a bed to sleep in, and can wander in and out of on my own is a home to me. A place where I can brew a cup of coffee, walk around in random amounts of clothes and place my shampoo bottle in the shower is even closer to home.

I get simple thrills out of new experiences and being in new places. At first sight, new is always shiny and well, new, to me. Sometimes illustrious first notions of excitement quickly diminish, but sometimes the glimmer remains. Early last week I was in Mississippi working with a couple of photographers. I had never been to Mississippi before, and was optimistic about seeing the place. Within three days I found myself in cotton fields (a first for me), pressed against a railroad track while a train wizzed by, covered in chocolate, painted like flags, covered in Mississippi mud and floating in a bathtub of milk. I was entertained by the sheer number of things I was covered in for my shoots, but now I find myself a wee bit speckled. Apparently, between the paint and the mud, my body is having an allergic reaction. So, if anyone wants to work with a speckled model, I know just the gal...

I was on the phone with my sister when I drove past the sign introducing me to Florida. Midnight on Sunday marked my first time to ever cross into the Florida border. Simple thrills.

A new day

A couple of days ago I woke up in my car and decided to start a blog.
I unfolded my legs from the backseat of my car, put on my glasses and looked out the windows of my car. Hello Walmart. Hello Pensacola.

The night before I had tried to sleep in a rest stop, but was greeted with a sign proclaiming, "No overnight stays." Perhaps this was intended for campers, but good-two-shoes me decided to stay away. Onwards I trekked. My final destination for the night - Pensacola Walmart.

Photo of me in my "home" taken in Pensacola by Adam Moon.