Balance

My schedule is packed, or my schedule lacks. I rarely feel as though there is a middle point, and yet equilibrium is achieved. And I am probably wrong. There must be times of balance. With review this is what I see.

Today was a day of roaming SOHO, shooting, and now I forage for food. A task easily achieved in NYC.

People pull me north and south. Back and forth. Tonight is a simple decision to make - where to go, who to see and when to put on my shoes and head out the door. Easy. For tomorrow and the next day more difficult questions shall wait.

Photos by Steve Azzara. We have worked together a couple of times, both times starting late in the evening and continuing until my eyes were ready to close, with much intermission of socialization. Everyone needs shoots like these sometimes.

Snap

Cancellations never cease to rile me up. My Friday and Saturday yearn for a shoot.

My call time tomorrow is 5:30 am, I am kicking myself for reading my email and getting snapped into a state of wakefulness.

I look so peaceful in this photo by Barb of the Pendleton group in Indiana. I would like an order of this peacefulness to accompany me on my bed of woven fabric and wood.

People watching

People never cease to amaze me, and I have always enjoyed people watching (much more interesting than birdwatching or watching a pot boil). Yesterday I spent the afternoon in Williamsburg, the evening working with an artist who liked funky poses with big negative space, and the night at a rooftop bar in the Chelsea. The contrast in environment and the accompanying people offered a visually varied day. I also spent the morning with friends I met through modeling, and my night hours spent with a friend I have known since fourth grade.

I am thrilled with these headshots by Jon Resendez of Austin, and proudly say I have come a long way in my makeup skills since junior high when I thought purple was a good shade of lipstick.

Where do you live?

I have the day off in NYC. While working on trips always takes top priority, and financially it would be excellent to have my schedule packed, there really is something to be said about having an occasional day to bask in a city that is not my own. Of course, at this point no city is "my" city.

The question, "where do you live?" is always a difficult one to answer. People are uncomfortable with the answer, "I live everywhere and nowhere." Equally greeted with discomfort and confusion is the quirky phrase, "I am voluntary homeless." A friend of mine suggested the answer, "I have many homes," which is partially true, yet inaccurate. That phrase evokes in me a picture of people who have multiple seasonal homes, and migrate like the birds. What I have are amazing friends who let me stay with them as I travel - they offer their couches and kindness. Those places where I travel to and already have friends always feel most welcoming.

My list is growing, but I currently feel most at home in Dallas and Houston, New York City, San Francisco, and Portland.

"Where do you live?" Here, there, everywhere. And nowhere.

Photos from a reference photo shoot with artist Howie Doyle of Houston, TX (if you like the photos, you should see his paintings!). Little did I know at that time, that Houston would become one of my "many homes."

Pointing east and west and all around

NYC is a vortex. Full of shiny objects. The people here go, go, go. Trains zipping by underground and above, people bustling here and there. I really like it here. And yet, I have crossed this city off my list of desire for residence, yearning towards San Francisco, as my home for the future. I am not ready yet to be grounded so.

Logic points east for my next apartment. The idea of having a true home base where I can be for a couple of days, before driving to another area and working for a week, appeals to me greatly. The east coast really is the best place for an art model, for when she is not living on couches and in her car.

Photos by Kevin Saunders of San Antonio, Texas. Our first shoot was a dynamic one, but ended with a short session of strictly figure work.

Air travel puts my patience to the test

(Warning: this blog is wordy)

Today has been my test of patience. Not the first, and not the last by any means, but a test.

I left the place I have been calling home, referred to by my mother as Pom Pom Texas, at 6:56 in the morning, and embarked on what should have been a 45 minute drive to the airport. My flight time was set for 9:15 am, so my departure seemed to have a generous traffic allowance. This was evidently not so. After struggling through gridlock in the middle of nowhere for an hour, with the expectation of traffic easing at any moment, I had traveled 4 miles. Another hour and a detour later, the car was headed to the airport only about 9 miles closer to the airport than when I first left the house groggy eyed and luggage anxious.

I switched my flight time, a process that included a conversation with a person who swore that from 2:35 pm to 3:05 pm was indeed a span of 40 minutes, and not the measly half hour that I calculated it to be, and then miraculously got switched to a politer and more math savvy employee. Mission accomplished! I had a flight I could board, even if I was $52 poorer.

Once at the gate I learned my flight was delayed, and I was being detoured to another airline to ensure I could reach my connecting flight. So I rushed over to a new gate and a shuttle to another terminal. I made it! I was on a plane to Cincinnati.

Some airports are not designed well at all. Once in Cincinnati, I had to leave the terminal, and once again wait in line for security check in order to board a Delta plane instead of the Continental I had come in on. I was cutting it close, but soon learned the flight was delayed an hour. As it seemed the flight was continually getting delayed, and my day lost in transit, so when a volunteer was needed to be bumped from the flight, I raised my hand, accepted a three hour stay at the airport and a $200 travel voucher.

Another delayed flight later, I had arrived in the vicinity of NYC (if we can even call Newark airport that), but my luggage had not.

So now at 10:30 pm I sit in a shuttle that is theoretically on the way to the village if it ever leaves the airport, sitting here sans luggage. So when I arrive at my shoots in the next few days, and strip down my clothes, and stand there proclaiming this is the only wardrobe I have, I apologize. Then again, this is nothing new, is it?
To sum this up, I have learned a few things today.
Packing less will allow me to use my bag as a carry one, saving money by avoiding checked bag fees and preventing luggage from getting lost.
I much prefer driving to locations, so I can have all my stuff and do not have to deal with airlines.
Some people need to go back to school to learn basic math.
I can be happy despite an excessively long day of air travel induced mishaps.

Hello NYC!

Photo by KMann Photo of Houston.

Young

At what point do we become old?
I was informed the other day that as a 26 year old the phrase, "young, dumb and 26," just did not work as a statement.
Does one have to embrace adulthood once they pass 25?

Everyone has different milestones to adulthood. Theoretically I became an "adult" at 13 when I had my Bat Mitzvah, but even so, parent aged people of my temple would not have truly considered us newly Bar and Bat Mitzvahed middle school aged people to be adults. We were still clearly kids. Some people feel adulthood happens when one moves out of home and has to begin working and supporting themselves. Going to college allows us to postpone this, and heading off for further education continues to keep people in a bubble of being in an educational system rather than "the real world." Some people marry and become adults, but as someone who is single, does that prevent adulthood from happening? I have always thought that people who are married with children are magically transformed into adults from all the responsibilities they face.

So although I am clearly not dumb, and not young for a 26 year old, I do consider myself young. And I believe this is a good thing.

(Discussion partially inspired by the fact that although MM has advertised my correct age, on OMP updating birthdays is not a default, and until yesterday I was still a wee bit younger than I currently am.)

Photos by Gary M Photo in Ohio. Lately my back has been in pain - seeing some of these photos, it is no surprise to me why. Modeling can be tough on the body, but the contortions are worth it when photos look this awesome.

On Location

Finding good shooting locations in buildings can be quite a difficult task. Especially as the day progresses, and the Texas police and people who have no tolerance for public nudity, begin to come out to work and play for the day. This week my good friend Greg Hawkins and I set out in search of a place that we could shoot without being arrested.

On a past shoot we had experienced a security guard run in, and were chased out of a parking lot in downtown Dallas on a weekday evening. Perhaps not the most ideal shooting location or time of day for this. Of course on this occasion I was spotted in a robe and claimed to have been posing in a robe. The light-test photos were done in this outfit, so this was not entirely untrue, right? The guard had the audacity to tell us to leave, walk to his car, then turn around to approach me with one final question, "are you wearing underwear under that?" Oy vey.

This week's public shooting proved more successful. After much driving around and burning of fossil fuels, we turned down a magical road that led way to a lot with four abandoned houses. These houses excite and disturb me, with clothes and furniture turned upside down, little kids' shoes lined up, shards of mirror, nests of hornets, and a general state of being left in a hurry. They remind me something of the houses one sees in movies where an epidemic comes through a city and turns the people into zombies, and everyone flees after grabbing a few of their prized possessions or items essential to their lives.

This photo was taken outside of one of these houses, photographed by my dear friend Greg Hawkins.

Deep facts of life

Everyone needs a guitar photo, right? Depth of Life Photography in Arkansas says so, and so I deem it true. :)

While that fact may be debatable, here is one truth:

Everyone needs an occasional chinese take out and movie night with a good friend. Mine begins in an hour.

Gone

Where oh where has my blog writing inspiration gone?

(Yes, that is seriously all I am writing today.)

Photo from way back when in Dallas from a shoot with Brian Hilson.

Don't smush the turtle

Today on the way to yoga I forgot to take a left, and right as I was about to u-turn, I saw in my path a little turtle. Of course I pulled over and moved him to a temporary rain pond off the side of the road. Shoot with me on a nature trail and you'll learn of my love for little critters.

Photo by BIll Earle of Allentown, PA, taken about a year ago on my first trip to the east coast. I am gearing up to take what will probably be my final trip to NYC in 2010 from July 22 - August 1.

Stationary

A week in Houston, which means two weeks to go. The rapid speed of time never ceases to amaze me.

I have returned to my stationary schedule of kicking my own butt at the gym, convincing myself to go to yoga, sitting in Starbucks in order to send emails (alas, Houston is not well known for having independent coffee shops), cooking, running errands and not spending hours upon hours in my car. Life is good.

Photo by Peter Bilious of Rochester, New York.