Fuji Instax for Professionals

O.K., kids, don't try this at home.  This should only be done by trained professionals.  The image above was shot on my fun, new Fuji Instax camera.  The image is only an inch by an inch and a half, approximately.  Maybe slightly larger.  I shot it with the studio strobes and hadn't adjusted anything, so the highlights are blown out a bit, but I can adjust the studio lights to an appropriate level.  But the camera is a toy.  It is just a toy camera.  Somebody, I hope, will make one that will allow some controls, a more "professional" camera if you will.  But I'll figure out.  Wait 'til you see these printed 24"x16".  Maybe I'll work them into encaustics.  Anything is possible.  I'm an artist, almost.  I'm not like the others.

She was a sweet girl from Puerto Rico.  No trace of an accent when she spoke English even though she had only been on the mainland for a couple years.  You can't say "in the country" because P.R. is the U.S.  Most people forget that, at least here in the sunny south.  P.R.s are mostly considered foreigners.  But not by the likes of you and me.  We have an awareness.  We know better.

She listed her measurements as 5'3", 205 lbs.  She asked me if I had ever shot a "plus sized" model before.  "Sure," I said.  "I just asked because all the photos on your walls are of skinny models."  "Oh," I said, "yes. . . well, those are models I helped get signed with agencies.  You know."

She hadn't brought any clothes.  Not a thing to wear.  O.K.  She didn't have any inhibitions about getting undressed.  God, you have to love people who are comfortable.  I loved her, of course.  I always do fall in love with the people I make pictures with.  If I don't, I just tell them I don't want to make pictures.  Easy and simple as that.

Toward the end, she revealed that she was a cam girl.  Man, I thought, everybody is.  I asked her what she did.  She gave me the rundown.  She doesn't usually shoot with photographers who don't pay her, she said, but she really liked my work.  I told her all the things I would do for her that a paying photographer wouldn't.  Oh, she was quite impressed.

By the end of the night, we had made some spectacular things.  You will see.  I think the images will be great.

The sun shines through the shutters sending streaks of hot light across the tables, stretching out across the floors.  I want another cup of coffee, but the cat is lying on my feet and I don't want to get up and disturb her.  She has come back inside and is all over me once again.  What's up with that?  I didn't really miss it, but, in truth, it is nice to be loved again.  The coffee can wait a few moments.  And then. . . I must begin another working day.  I know that without the factory I would spend sixty or seventy hours a week making "art."  It would not be a burden.  And that, my friends, is the path to success.  But the factory pays the bills and the whistle blows and so these little pictures will have to be a delight rather than an avocation.  But mother fucker, what a delight, no?  At least for me.  They are a better way to spend my money and time, I think, than on something like race cars or heroin.  I almost wrote "heroine" but that would be just the thing to spend my money on in the long run.  And speaking of the cat, I'm wondering where all the pictures of little Ruffles the Dog have gone on Q's site.  I think he should write a series of adventure tales involving him.  That, my friends, would be good entertainment.

I've just titled my post.  That should bring in some viewers.  Ho!