Thursday, March 29, 2018

Immer Etwas

 Under attack again.  If it's not one thing, it's another. Immer etwas.  After recovering from a recent serious attack, I get attacked for the size of the models I "choose", which is just as serious for me.  This is tedious.  Who the fuck is anyone to decide who or what I should or shouldn't shoot, and why?  I am so sick of this shit.  If you don't like my work, stop looking at it.  That is a ridiculous statement at this point, because NO ONE KNOWS I EXIST.  A handful of people who knew me ten years ago have now decided that they get to determine how fat or skinny the models who contact me should be.
 Like I'm going to respond to Sienna, or Willa with, "I'm sorry, you aren't fat enough to satisfy the people who don't really support me but are quick to complain."... NO.  I'm going to respond with, "thank you for fucking finding me.  I'd fucking love to fucking work with you."  Forget the conundrum of working with accomplished dancers like Anna and Vik... should I respond with, "I'm sorry, the dancing world really doesn't support the plus sized ballerina model aesthetic."... NO.  I am so very grateful that anyone wants to work with me, much less models like these.
 I have fought my entire life to get to where I am... fucking fought past all kinds of misperception and stupid assumptions to get here.  I got through doing it the wrong way for over a decade, because it was the only way I could afford to do it, and have happily ended up in a place where international models contact me when they come through LA, which is no where near me in any practical sense, to most of which I have to humbly and embarrassingly explain that I live in poverty and can't afford them, not to even mention somehow having access to the most beautiful woman I've ever known, because I happen to wake up with her every morning...should I stop shooting my wife and children because they aren't fat or skinny enough?
 My work is by no means profound or remotely extraordinary, but it is good enough to get the little attention I get, so that is a significantly successful baby step for me.  I am already under the stress of not posting as much as I'd like because I don't have the time, or because I live with the constant immediate backlash from this little tiny mountain town that I'm stuck in.  I honestly don't know what to do.  I'm back to posting once a month.  The only significant book I've read in the last month is Sally Mann's Hold Still, which I have a significant amount to write about, but who has time for that?...and who really gives a shit, if all people who I thought were my friends are only focused on how "fit" the models who contact me to shoot are?  I will shoot anyone who shows up, always.  I have survived so much bullshit in my life that I am finally sick of it.  If you are "bigger" and you don't like the fact that most of my work is confident "smaller", then be the confident "bigger" that you want to see.  Stop bitching about how you want things to be different, and be the change, or shut the fuck up.
Here's some boring fucking photos of some mundane fucking plants that exist in my boring fucking front yard, because fuck you.


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  2. I get so little feed back I feel invisible. I have little or no reason to do what I do. For every dollar I make I spend 100. Yet I keep going. It makes me feel good. I do things few can do. I make beauty.