Back from Norway! Can't wait to show some results here ASAP. I think my record for 'coldest I've ever been on a shoot' has officially been broken. You can't argue with arctic winds. But the midnight sun is so spectacular!
For now, in between booking trains, listening to Dolly Parton and planning shoots for tomorrow and beyond (I've got a commercial healthcare booking tomorrow; quite a change from nude mermaid-ing in Scandanavia!), here are some romantic, soft portraits taken recently by (not the) David Bailey. This was such a lovely shoot, with soooo many images. :-) I think they are almost a bit 'bridal'; and we are well and truly into 'wedding season' after all! Some are edited a bit, some not.
More by Bjorn Hansen. Images taken in Sydney, Australia. No retouching. More still to come!
Please excuse my tardiness if you've sent me a message recently... I'm a bit behind, have needed some 'me time', a bit busy, but will be back on top of things very soon I hope. Amongst other things, I've been planning trips, planting tulips, beating a boy at bowling (just call me strike queen) and am off to find blankets to donate at the drop-in cafe tonight before a dinner out. Have a good week!
Copied from the ever-helpful Wikipedia, this is the story of the Lady of Shalott, the inspiration for a day with Keith Cooper last summer:
According to legend, the Lady of Shalott was forbidden to look directly at reality or the outside world; instead she was doomed to view the world through a mirror, and weave what she saw into tapestry. Her despair was heightened when she saw loving couples entwined in the far distance, and she spent her days and nights aching for a return to normality. One day the Lady saw Sir Lancelot passing on his way in the reflection of the mirror, and dared to look out at Camelot, bringing about a curse. The lady escaped by boat during an autumn storm, inscribing 'The Lady of Shalott' on the prow. As she sailed towards Camelot and certain death, she sang a lament. Her frozen body was found shortly afterwards by the knights and ladies of Camelot, one of whom is Lancelot, who prayed to God to have mercy on her soul. The tapestry she wove during her imprisonment was found draped over the side of the boat.
Keith was inspired by paintings such as this one by Waterhouse (which happens to be adorning my nearest radiator by way of magnetism), and had wanted to do this shoot with Ivory Flame and I for a long time, so we arranged a date, boat hire and took a row up and down the river here in Oxford. I absolutely love the results. The colours, reflections and fabrics and range of emotions (there was laughter, tenderness, peacefulness and quite a bit of death), came out so well, I think, and I'm really proud of these.
Help me pick a favourite?! (As always, click and scroll through to see larger.)
Outtake alert:
Holly and I are planning to do our best to visit the current pre-Raphaelite exhibition in London before it finishes this weekend. Who thinks we should turn up to the Tate in our long, white dresses?
We will also be modelling together on Saturday the 9th of February at Eye For An Image Studio in Banbury, Oxfordshire. I think there may be some time available for anyone interested in working with an experienced and creative duo.
Although modelling is my 'full time income', as I usually put it, writing is my long-term dream, and my time is split into two professions, realistically (though the two work very well together). I always write on the days I'm not modelling. This morning, instead of banging out 1000 words of my current work in progress (which is actually going quite well at the moment!), I spent an hour accidentally banging out a poem instead. I have told myself that this can justify the static word count of my novel, since I haven't let myself do this in a very long time.
Probably needs some changes and polishing (some stanzas in particular definitely need some whipping), but I'm quite pleased with it as a first draft:
Mapping Renewal
2-3 weeks for the
lungs.
About a year for the
alveoli to regenerate.
Nothing
on the surface; forever, deeper.
24 hours for the
cornea. Which explains
why I can see you so
clearly now.
20 years for the heart.
Perhaps four times
in a lifetime. Three if
repairs are slow. Scars
can't muscle.
Intestines; 2 or 3 days. Fighting to rid;
stomach acid sears
through. Gargle, spit:
taste buds; every ten
days. I am not
so enthused by your
wanderlust now.
6-8 weeks for an
eyelash. Mine
are doe like, defined
by black; don't bat for you.
3-6 years for hair and
your indecision.
I bleached mine; I am
getting it cut.
The skeleton takes ten
years. Osteoclasts.
Osteoblasts. Break
down. Build up. I am cast
as beauty. My closet is
empty.
Fingernails twice as
fast as toenails.
Keratin, circulation,
tissue supply.
New skin every two
weeks.
Less elastic. Still
waterproof.
We won't touch again.
The liver, flushing
away cruel toxins; just
five months a round.
The
brain ages alone, coughing notes in the dark
through
dreams and organs; imagines its own future:
And because I thought Mosa (of OnePixArt) might appreciate this kind of thing, here are some images he took of me in LA. I have admired his artwork for a long time, and it was certainly interesting to be let in on his philosophies about women. I think the third is my favourite.
And finally, a song about bodies I've been enjoying by Bobby McFerrin... Love this guy. I've finally joined the modern age and have all my music on my phone. Well, not all; do you have any idea how much music I own? It's quite shocking. But anyway, along with some questionable beauties (the most questionable being Take That's debut album, teach-yourself-spanish, and the Sister Act soundtrack - all choices I personally stand by, however) I treated my studio day attendees on Saturday to such gems as:
Off now for a round two of responding to emails before meeting up with new friends tonight. Excited to see lots of my 'old' friends in the next week or so too. You gotta love that about Christmas; everyone gathers. :-)
