Originally Posted Sunday, June 22, 2014
Yesterday was a long day as days can be when something you want badly is just out of reach. But it is no good to count on what you don't have and better to think about what you do. Three packages arrived yesterday, thrilling and unexpected things. The first was dropped through the mail slot by my friend. "girls." I began reading it last night. It gave me a sort of neuralgia, I think, for not having done it first. I am only a bit in, but the first pages say things I thought only I said aloud, things that everyone must think but few articulate. Kelman has.
The second was a package from a friend of this site. I hadn't any idea that it was coming. I opened a box full of vintage slips and bras, things that I must either wear or use in the studio, and since it is well-known that I am not a cross-dresser, I assume I will need to continue to shoot the Lonesomeville series. Wait--it is not well-known, perhaps. I do have a feminine side and have been known to wear only a sarong in the summer and to photograph myself in full mirrors and email the images to girls my heart longs to impress. But that was before the belly when I still had a couple rows of abs, anyway. Now. . . all photos are an accusation.
The box had a few other items, too. "For Boys Only" was one. I looked inside right away, but there weren't any pictures, neither as part of the book nor just snapshot additions of a girl's life unbound. There was, however, a vintage nude print in the box that I will post forthcoming. Treasures unexpected. What a wonderful first day of summer.
But there was more. Another package came as well. I had flippantly asked for something, but everything I ask for from this person, I am given. And more. And so I got three sheets full of modeling photos from when she was fifteen. Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ. There was more. . . always more. My head is spinning. Words. I am not the only one who uses them.
I burn, you know. It is my heart. I burn elsewhere, too, but never anything close to the burning in my heart. Day and night. An entire lifetime of it.
It was a hell of a first summer's day.
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Skip ahead fifty seconds.
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