My Moo Minicards are in! I wanted a set to hand out at art shows and to people I ask to model for me. I also throw a few in with each print I sell. People have really enjoyed them; many have a hard time deciding which one they want to take. The great thing about the Minicards is that you can order up to 100 different pictures on the front, so that people get a sense of the range of photography you do.
I can gather all the news I need on the weather report.
Hey, I’ve got nothing to do today but smile.
Da-n-da-da-n-da-da-n-da-da and here I am
The only living boy in New YorkHalf of the time we’re gone but we don’t know where,
And we don’t know here.
—Simon and Garfunkle, The Only Living Boy in New York
Every day, we get caught up in our lives.
We adopt pets to give us a sense of family. We eat breakfast at work or in the car to save ourselves time so we can work some more. We scorn those who express emotion, we avoid eye contact with strangers on the street.
Everything we do — the food we eat, the movies we watch, the home team we cheer for, our coffee shop romances — they’re just trying to fill that hole, that gap that’s missing, the only way we feel alive.
We don’t slow down, we don’t figure things out. We don’t reflect and appreciate what we have.
Like strawberry cheesecake ice cream with a thick graham cracker swirl. Like the serenity of the snow that falls around us, when heaven decides to bless the earth.
Life gets in the way of living.
And now I realize just how guilty I’ve been of this. I’ve been looking for love, but never recognized it when I found it. All I ever wanted to do was lie in bed, look into your eyes, and go through my favourite albums with you. But I never did. And now I wonder. Why can’t we just live? We can’t we just love?
Sometimes you have to stop. You can’t capture everything. You need to throw yourself in.
A thousand kisses deep.
One of the photographer’s greatest assets is the nude model. Without clothing, there’s no chance for someone to outwardly project their personality. Only a human stripped to the bare essentials, naked to the world as the day they were born, pure and without bias.
This was an exercise in mixing monochromatic colour channels to bring out details such as cuts, scars, stubble, and goosebumps. Also, some good practice in composition and framing. Best viewed large and on black (so click the pictures1).
And, of course, it doesn’t hurt if he looks like he’s been carved out of marble.
Assume as necessary.
Why is it so politically incorrect to show your feelings? Would it be inappropriate to tell you that I’m in love?
That your dimples are like hinges that purse your lips in the most adorable way, and I want to kiss them. That I want to have you here next to me, to feel the weight of your body pressing against mine. That I want to smell you on my fingers, I want to fold my sheets around you, I want to feel your curls under my hands as I lather and rinse.
Because I’m sick of being polite and I’m tired of propriety.
So let’s deal with this attraction. Let’s not ignore what’s between us.
If a woman sleeps alone, it puts a shame on all men. God has a very big heart but there is one sin he will not forgive: if a woman calls a man to her bed and he will not go.
—Zorba the Greek
There exists a spot on every woman that needs to be kissed.
It can be as innocuous as the curl of the lip, the web of the hand, or a mark on a landscape of skin.
It’s the responsibility of a man to find this spot. Not as a service to the woman — sometimes she isn’t even aware of such a spot — but as a service to the creator of such things.