Inside- I'm Dark & Twisty
I am having a bit of a self awakening today. I think. I'm not at all sure right now. I know what I'm feeling is probably normal and deeply emotional and I have no idea how to deal with it. I think I need someone to smack me around a bit. Maybe this is, or isn't the place to let it all out- but what the hell? Couldn't hurt right?
So Saturday I shot a "Self Confidence" photo set for my dear bestie Globug. My taking her photographs was a way to show her through "a third person" perspective- I.E. the camera, just exactly how sexy she truly is. Globug has the body more then a handful of Rubenesque period painters would have been falling all over themselves to paint portraits of. It made me feel great showing her the photos, seeing her eyes light up and tear up on occasion of her seeing how she looked. It boosted her confidence, she walked with a "That's right... I'm a sexy bitch" strut all day Sunday when we were out and about. It tickled me pink!
In 80% of the pictures (the remaining 20% being blurry outtakes and not so great "fart/goofy/REALLY nervous faces")- she was just simply stunning. So comfortable in her own skin that she walked about mother nature in her naked glory, soaking in the sun and warmth the world had to offer her. I've taken these great pictures of Globug. I've taken hundreds of beautiful shots of Kirin, and Ky- showing how ravishing they all are.
Today, I've been sorting through the pictures, smiling at how happy she is in the shots and what this must have done for her personal self worth... Yet... My insides are all achy, sad, and acidic. Dark and twisty. Not happy. At all. There's this little voice in my head that is screaming- you used to be like that. You used to be comfortable with how you looked when you modeled. Now look at you... Okay, mean voice inside my head- let's look at me.
I am a dork. I take photos of myself, all dewy and make-up blurred, in the bathroom- looking like a dork. If I say do myself- not a bad shot. Well framed, clear view of the face and hair- coloring could be better but hell- the bathroom is Tinkerbell Turquiose with Citron Green ceilings. That's about as good as it's gonna get!
(Speaking to self...)Knock it off and look at YOU! Not how the shot turned out, not the color flubs- look at YOU!
Well- could be worse. I could be naked. I have big blueberry blue eyes with bright blonde hair (that Hubby likes a hell of a lot more then I do), poofy lips that looked really good in the glittery red lipstick I wore to work this morning, and I guess if I had to say it- pretty spectacular boobies. But that's where the liking stops. That's it, ain't no more. From the sports bra down- I am not a fan of. I could criticize and tear myself apart piece by piece for hours on end- but let's face it, I have four hundred pictures to edit in little over a week.
If I can make three stunning woman feel great about themselves and take wonderful photographs of them- why in the fuck am I all- "But what about me? Ain't I pretty enough?" in my stupid head? Why is that damn tiny, grating voice echoing sentiments of you ugly over and over and OVER again? Hubby think's I'm pretty. He says his friends do too. And sure- I have finally gotten over that mental block about walking around my house in various stages of "barely a stitch on"- but that part took damn near the first two years of my relationship with Hubby. And I don't know why. Maybe it was from living in apartments in fairly busy areas of their respective town from the age of 19 to 27- dunno.
Maybe it's some mental anguish and trauma from my douche-bag ex husband. I cannot come up with a good explanation other then... No... I needed to be fully dressed in either pj's or clothing- nobody want's to see all this. Other then Hubby- my ex plaything(boyfriend is totally not what he was) Carrotdick forced me to wear nothing but my undies at his place. Either he was just that... Well... Ya know... Or he saw exactly how not comfy with myself I was back then and tried to help me through it. I'm a size 15 now- I can understand having body issues now. But back then- I was a fabulous size 9... WTF?
My brain is running on dark and twisty overload today, and it sucks! While I am totally in awe of the things I can do with a camera- whether it be landscapes, thunderstorms, a random long horn bull, a beautiful woman, or the way my waffles look on my plate... Why in the fuck is my brain concocting some bullshit voice telling me I'm not good enough to be thought of as pretty?
Dark... Twisty... Not cool.
I am having a bit of a self awakening today. I think. I'm not at all sure right now. I know what I'm feeling is probably normal and deeply emotional and I have no idea how to deal with it. I think I need someone to smack me around a bit. Maybe this is, or isn't the place to let it all out- but what the hell? Couldn't hurt right?
So Saturday I shot a "Self Confidence" photo set for my dear bestie Globug. My taking her photographs was a way to show her through "a third person" perspective- I.E. the camera, just exactly how sexy she truly is. Globug has the body more then a handful of Rubenesque period painters would have been falling all over themselves to paint portraits of. It made me feel great showing her the photos, seeing her eyes light up and tear up on occasion of her seeing how she looked. It boosted her confidence, she walked with a "That's right... I'm a sexy bitch" strut all day Sunday when we were out and about. It tickled me pink!
In 80% of the pictures (the remaining 20% being blurry outtakes and not so great "fart/goofy/REALLY nervous faces")- she was just simply stunning. So comfortable in her own skin that she walked about mother nature in her naked glory, soaking in the sun and warmth the world had to offer her. I've taken these great pictures of Globug. I've taken hundreds of beautiful shots of Kirin, and Ky- showing how ravishing they all are.
Today, I've been sorting through the pictures, smiling at how happy she is in the shots and what this must have done for her personal self worth... Yet... My insides are all achy, sad, and acidic. Dark and twisty. Not happy. At all. There's this little voice in my head that is screaming- you used to be like that. You used to be comfortable with how you looked when you modeled. Now look at you... Okay, mean voice inside my head- let's look at me.
I am a dork. I take photos of myself, all dewy and make-up blurred, in the bathroom- looking like a dork. If I say do myself- not a bad shot. Well framed, clear view of the face and hair- coloring could be better but hell- the bathroom is Tinkerbell Turquiose with Citron Green ceilings. That's about as good as it's gonna get!
(Speaking to self...)Knock it off and look at YOU! Not how the shot turned out, not the color flubs- look at YOU!
Well- could be worse. I could be naked. I have big blueberry blue eyes with bright blonde hair (that Hubby likes a hell of a lot more then I do), poofy lips that looked really good in the glittery red lipstick I wore to work this morning, and I guess if I had to say it- pretty spectacular boobies. But that's where the liking stops. That's it, ain't no more. From the sports bra down- I am not a fan of. I could criticize and tear myself apart piece by piece for hours on end- but let's face it, I have four hundred pictures to edit in little over a week.
If I can make three stunning woman feel great about themselves and take wonderful photographs of them- why in the fuck am I all- "But what about me? Ain't I pretty enough?" in my stupid head? Why is that damn tiny, grating voice echoing sentiments of you ugly over and over and OVER again? Hubby think's I'm pretty. He says his friends do too. And sure- I have finally gotten over that mental block about walking around my house in various stages of "barely a stitch on"- but that part took damn near the first two years of my relationship with Hubby. And I don't know why. Maybe it was from living in apartments in fairly busy areas of their respective town from the age of 19 to 27- dunno.
Maybe it's some mental anguish and trauma from my douche-bag ex husband. I cannot come up with a good explanation other then... No... I needed to be fully dressed in either pj's or clothing- nobody want's to see all this. Other then Hubby- my ex plaything(boyfriend is totally not what he was) Carrotdick forced me to wear nothing but my undies at his place. Either he was just that... Well... Ya know... Or he saw exactly how not comfy with myself I was back then and tried to help me through it. I'm a size 15 now- I can understand having body issues now. But back then- I was a fabulous size 9... WTF?
My brain is running on dark and twisty overload today, and it sucks! While I am totally in awe of the things I can do with a camera- whether it be landscapes, thunderstorms, a random long horn bull, a beautiful woman, or the way my waffles look on my plate... Why in the fuck is my brain concocting some bullshit voice telling me I'm not good enough to be thought of as pretty?
Dark... Twisty... Not cool.
You're incredible, keep it up, and nice to hear you gave Globug an extra spot of confidence, the power to do that is an awesome one to have. Be proud. Hugs.