Listening to: Panic! At the Disco — Nails For Breakfast, Tacks For Snacks
Let me begin with a complaint: my coccyx aches. I just had my weave taken out and my hair wrangled into single braids, so now I’m blonder than ever. Firefox crashed every time I tried to upload this header photo and every time I turn on any sort of media all I hear about is news of death and destruction and even more impending doom. Maybe we set the year 0A.D. too far back and it’s already the Mayans’ 2012, and we’re all going to die (well, we are anyway, eventually, and I don’t actually believe that 2012 is Armageddon because Ragnarok should totally come on a February 31st).
On Saturday I went house shopping with my aunt and cousin and enjoyed petting other people’s cats and debating doors vs. windows as sniper targets (my cousin doesn’t want to live in a house with lots of windows, because “nobody’s ever been shot through a door;” I told her I was going to shoot her through a door just to prove her wrong). I won a silver medal for a double exposure LC-A+ print in the national Scholastic Art Awards, despite my photography teacher’s telling me not to hold my breath waiting to win anything. And I’ve planned an epic photoshoot with Blé for Friday inspired by:
but in suburbia and with cheaper clothes (obviously, since stylist/photographer anwa has a nonexistent clothes budget and all the shmancy vintage dresses she just inherited from her mother are at the cleaner’s). Have I ever mentioned that I love love love Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott, possibly definitely even more than I love Annie Leibovitz (okay, definitely definitely more)? But I’m having a crisis of method in deciding whether to shoot this shoot in digital or in film, but I’m kind of leaning towards the film because then I get to use all of my better lenses AND I will take a “behind the scenes” little photo-movie with my new Flip camera to make up for the fact that it’ll take way too long to get the prints developed.