Originally Posted Sunday, May 19, 2013
I shot with a media figure on Friday, someone who is having, as she put it herself, fifteen minutes of fame. We got along splendidly. She is really down to earth. She is working on an M.A. in Literature. She writes poetry. We are going to collaborate on some encaustic pieces. I will overlay her images with selections of her writing. It won't be literal. I won't paste a poem over her image. But I will use parts and pieces of it somehow. I want her to write about her controversial fame. I like her enough not to tell you some of what went on in the studio that day without asking her for permission. I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings at all. But I think she will say yes and find humor in it. She is self-effacing and has a dry wit.
She is twenty-six and wants to model.
"You know your modeling career is about over? I've helped girls sign with agencies. They are sixteen and five-nine, five-ten. They are string beans."
She looked at me for a few seconds, then nodded her head.
"Yea, I know."
She is in contact with Playboy. They interviewed her for one of their television shows. She hopes to get a shoot. I hope she does, too, for a number of reasons, but the selfish ones prevail.
She is coming back to shoot again, she says. She likes my work.
Plus. . . and never underestimate this. . . I'm as sweet as apple butter.
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