Yesterday was an emotional day for me, Le Art Boxians. Not for any real reason. I was just… moody. I read An Almost Made Up Poem for the millionth time (it is my favorite, after all) and I just started… crying. Like, little kid sobbing. There is such beauty in it that I can’t even describe. Maybe I feel like that girl is me, in a way. Okay, okay. That is EXACTLY the problem. That girl is me. I am the girl with the tiny hands and a crying bench next to the bridge over the river. Of course, it doesn’t help that I was already moody because I was at work and I hate the shift I am on, I wish my body could just adapt to it, then I could just suck it up and get on with life. No. I wouldn’t. Everything that I enjoy happens in the evenings while I am wasting away at the vampire life. Damn. Now I am all moody again.
d-d-d-d-digital j-j-j-j-journal … r-r-r-r-reverie … obnoxious, mindless works and words … we all go a little mad sometimes.
I promised myself that I wasn’t going to allow being stuck on second shift again to get me down or steal my creativity, although as I sit here hurriedly typing this post, I feel rushed and pissed off that I am stuck back on this suck shift again. The bitch shift. Dammit.
Anyway, I did manage to shoot something on Sunday. It isn’t an entirely original idea, the technique has been used in horror flicks for a long time, but it does sum up exactly how I have been feeling lately. I just hate it when I am finally in a creative flow and then I look at the clock and it is time to go to work. That’s why I hate this shift. All of my daylight is wasted sleeping. So I guess it is start shooting at night or stop shooting altogether, right? We will see. I don’t know of many portrait models who feel like shooting at three in the morning. Selfies for DDDAAAAYYYYYYYYZZZZZZZ.
Anyway, here’s yesterday’s big emotional breakdown, as seen through my Canon. Enjoy.
I am particularly glad that I did this before I put on any makeup. I hate my face without makeup, and I hate that this makeupless face will be in my book, but every image is my baby and this one is no different. I like that I am raw. I like that I am not wearing a mask. I like that I hate my face, I like being Plain Jane. I like my freckles and my blemishes and that scar on my cheek. I like my ghostly blonde eyebrows that match my ghostly blonde lashes and hair. I like the dirt mark on the wall and the angle of the sunlight making my shadow. I like it because I hate it and that is exactly what it’s like to be inside my head.
Until next time, Le Art Boxians.