I’ve been insanely busy the last few days, so if I owe you an email, bear with me, I’ll get to it. Life should slow down a bit later this week.

I actually wasn’t going to post any of the photos from Friday, but I’ve had a slew of people ask me and no time to write anything, so - here’s two. I’m not crazy about them.

This one is okay in some ways. I like the red color. But the single-spot lighting makes my face look flat and gives my jaw a prominence it doesn’t have in real life. Also, I’m actually holding a crop, but it’s been lost against my black catsuit. This shot needed subtle side lighting to work for my purposes.

This one – well, in retrospect, I should have known the shooting-down-at-me-pose was a bad idea and nixed it. It doesn’t suit my image. The backdrop I’m kneeling on came out looking bad. And once again, I’ve got the crop in my hand, and once again, it’s invisible.

Roman and Max didn’t care for them either. Max said, “They don’t look like you.” Roman was more vehement: “These so do not look like you. They look like someone wearing a Mistress Matisse mask. It’s kinda creepy. And that makeup artist put way too much black stuff around your eyes.”

So, it’s disappointing. But I’m trying to be philosophical about it. For me, hiring a photographer is like going to a dominatrix. You tell them what you want and they (hopefully) try to create it for you. But sometimes it just doesn’t work – you don’t have the same vision, you don’t connect, something just doesn’t click. All you can do is try elsewhere.