Sometimes I think that in my mind I can't differentiate between things in life that are horrifying and traumatizing, and things that are beautiful.
For example, in my mind that night where someone I once loved grabbed the hair on the back of my head, and forced it into the computer desk coincides with the night we stood in the shower and drank the water off each others bodies. The way the blood dripped off my chin mirrors the way that the faucet water streamed down his closely clipped beard. And the black and blue that ended up surrounding my eye looked so strikingly similar to rims of mascara that smeared around my lids.
Even when I think of passionate love making the scenes of sweaty bodies locked up inside of each other tend to intermingle with images of decaying flesh and fingernails peeling off layers of skin.
I don't really know what to make of this. Sometimes I worry that this isn't what mommies think of, that mommies should be thinking of beautiful fresh smelling babies wrapped in lavender. Not decaying corpses and maggot filled gullets.
, sometimes it makes me sad.
But sometimes I think that most people confuse gore and beauty, and that it's not so abnormal, and that it makes your mind more open to things. I don 't know, what do you all think? I think I've lost my knack for explaining myself coherently.
The other night I met this little boy at a local punk rock show. I was sitting outside on the curb, waiting for the show to be over and he looked over at me, then looked away, then looked back again. He had on those tight little black punker pants, the kind with sewn in patches, and one of those denim cut off vests. He smelled vegan and looked vegan and probably smoked pot but said no to coke. He stuttered, and then let out a, "I think it's great that you're pregnant, really great, that's really awesome". I could tell he was terrified. Who wouldn't be terrified sitting next to a knocked up chick at a punk rock show? In my pre-pregnancy I would have contemplated taking this little boy to the backseat of my car and pulling down his hand sewn pants so that I could watch him awkwardly and nervously try to fuck me. In my pre-pregnancy I would have smiled and called him "hunny". Now I just grin a little and say, "Yeah, it's pretty great". He stuttered some more and told me how great it was about ten more times and then looked away. I just looked down at my watermelon belly and smiled
, it made me happy, it's funny to think of how I perceive things now, even funnier to think how I perceived things then.
So, just wondering, if I printed pregnancy prints how many of you would be interested in them? I don't know that I would do this, but I have these beautiful pictures of my preggo body and I thought if other people wanted them I could offer them, if not, I've got them.
In my previous blog I have an example of one of the shoots I did, here's another that I did more recently, about a week or two ago.
I think they're pretty
For example, in my mind that night where someone I once loved grabbed the hair on the back of my head, and forced it into the computer desk coincides with the night we stood in the shower and drank the water off each others bodies. The way the blood dripped off my chin mirrors the way that the faucet water streamed down his closely clipped beard. And the black and blue that ended up surrounding my eye looked so strikingly similar to rims of mascara that smeared around my lids.
Even when I think of passionate love making the scenes of sweaty bodies locked up inside of each other tend to intermingle with images of decaying flesh and fingernails peeling off layers of skin.
I don't really know what to make of this. Sometimes I worry that this isn't what mommies think of, that mommies should be thinking of beautiful fresh smelling babies wrapped in lavender. Not decaying corpses and maggot filled gullets.
, sometimes it makes me sad.
But sometimes I think that most people confuse gore and beauty, and that it's not so abnormal, and that it makes your mind more open to things. I don 't know, what do you all think? I think I've lost my knack for explaining myself coherently.
The other night I met this little boy at a local punk rock show. I was sitting outside on the curb, waiting for the show to be over and he looked over at me, then looked away, then looked back again. He had on those tight little black punker pants, the kind with sewn in patches, and one of those denim cut off vests. He smelled vegan and looked vegan and probably smoked pot but said no to coke. He stuttered, and then let out a, "I think it's great that you're pregnant, really great, that's really awesome". I could tell he was terrified. Who wouldn't be terrified sitting next to a knocked up chick at a punk rock show? In my pre-pregnancy I would have contemplated taking this little boy to the backseat of my car and pulling down his hand sewn pants so that I could watch him awkwardly and nervously try to fuck me. In my pre-pregnancy I would have smiled and called him "hunny". Now I just grin a little and say, "Yeah, it's pretty great". He stuttered some more and told me how great it was about ten more times and then looked away. I just looked down at my watermelon belly and smiled
, it made me happy, it's funny to think of how I perceive things now, even funnier to think how I perceived things then.
So, just wondering, if I printed pregnancy prints how many of you would be interested in them? I don't know that I would do this, but I have these beautiful pictures of my preggo body and I thought if other people wanted them I could offer them, if not, I've got them.
In my previous blog I have an example of one of the shoots I did, here's another that I did more recently, about a week or two ago.
I think they're pretty
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Hope you're feeling as perfect as you look in those photos.