How My Business WorksHow My Business Works in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
My business works because it's actually not a business. And by this I mean I hardly make any money with my pictures. For me photography is not a way to make money but to invest money, and I work several other jobs to be able to pay for my art. I'm a tour guide on waste to energy plants and wastewater treatment facilities, I'm a concierge at the house I'm living, I work as a Photoshop instructor and on weekends I take care of the library of the University.
Sometimes people say to me: I can hardly believe you're not making money with your photos because they are better than the work of many professional photographers.
Of course it's flattering when somebody says something like that even if I don't always agree. But here's the thing: the very reason why I'm able to work on this level is because I don't have to make money with my pictures. If you're a photographer who wants to make a living out of it you are forced to do things differently. You have to focus on what your customers like and
Judgement- Chapter One- In The BeginingJudgement- Chapter One- In The Begining in Sketches More Like This
In the Beginning
It was a bright fall evening on a late September night. The moonlight was a veil over the bride of a dark horizon. Even though blackness encased the city, the streets were filled with bustle and excitement. It was this energy of life that had drawn Mary to Chicago, that feeling of rush and spontaneity put the fire of life inside her. However, in the last few months she had been feeling not quite herself. It had been several months since Mary had been able to leave the house for a fun outing since her pregnancy. Most of the time she felt quite ill but now at six months she was beginning to recover. In celebration of feeling well for the first night in a very long time, Mary had insisted that James, her husband of three years, take her to see an old movie midnight showing of "Cheaper by the Dozen". It wasn't a movie most people would stay up till 3 o'clock in the morning for, but Mary had a craving and her husband knew from experience that
NEKKID plus POLICE equals BADNEKKID plus POLICE equals BAD in Biography & Memoir More Like This
TO CHUCK THE NEKKID GUY WHEREVER YOU MAY BE,
Circa 1997; I was still in my teens when My friends and I would put on a music festival back in North Carolina, into it's second or third year running it had become very apparent to me and everyone who attended that I was the "naked photographer". My self appointed job was to run around and talk the drunkards into getting naked for my camera as my camera has always been attached to my hands like an evil twin often taking on a mind of its own. The role of film I was using had close to 10 naked people on it when a returning spectator named Chuck tugged on my shirt like an excited child.
"Emily! Emily! I finally decided to get naked and I want to do it in the middle of the street!"
Hmmm, I thought. This should be interesting "OK Chuck, lets go!"
I shot off a few photos, giggled a little and headed back inside the bar satisfied I'd made an ass out of another willing participant. A few minutes later Chuck was back by my side tugging on my shirt "
Wait for meWait for me in Free Verse More Like This
You pulled my body to yours
Your lips taste like June
And your skin like summer rain
Wait for me,and I'll come-soon.
I want to know your dreams.
The ones on the inside of your eyelids
Those wrapped into the smell of my lashes
And the purple dust I'll always need.
I live for the touch of your fingers.
Then,our bodies start to burn.
I need you close,so close.
Wait for me,and I'll return.
Don't let the snow take our love.
Without your love,there is no me.
Cause I have no ordinary lucks.
And I have no ordinary sins.
You should know I'll always be there.
We left marks on each other's skin.
For us,there is no end.
I'll stand beside you when you leave.
List O' WedgiesList O' Wedgies in Articles & Interviews More Like This
It’s safe to assume that ever since people have worn pants there has been the complaint of fabric packing itself into the tight space of any butt crack it could find. The annoyance of having material bunched up in the back and the shame of having to deal with it in public has plagued mankind for centuries. This unbiased felon went unnamed for many years of its undie-scrunching spree until an unknown genius gave it a name: wedgie.
Once underwear started becoming increasingly available to everyone with a variety of fabrics and styles to choose from the runway was set for the wedgie to begin its true reign of terror. The almighty wedgie quickly became a feared weapon in the bullys’ arsenal of tactics. Just saying the word would make band geeks’ clench their butt cheeks in fear and fill fetishists’ stomachs with butterflies as they let their waistbands peek out for an easier target.
Leaving a trail of shredded fabric, enlarged leg holes,
AmericaXReader~ The Face of a Nation: PrologueAmericaXReader~ The Face of a Nation: Prologue in Short Stories More Like This
Since the beginning of civilization, there have been rumors of people who look just like me and you except for a slight difference.
These people embody countries.
They age at an extremely slow rate and are practically immortal. As long as their embodied country isn't destroyed, that is.
For years these have been nothing more than rumors, wives' tales and the occasional conspiracy theory but as we're progressing into the modern age of information; I'm starting to think otherwise.
Lately, there've been sites popping up about a man whose been reoccurring in pictures that span throughout American history. But although his clothes and appearance have often changed by the decade, you can still tell it's the same man.
Hair the color of amber waves of grain
Eyes like the shining sea
And with some form of glasses or another but the thing struck me the most was his hairstyle. There, on his head was the most peculiar cowlick I've ever seen; it stood straight up, tall and proud, ju
Wilted RoseWilted Rose in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She wraps herself in somber lies
Step out of the rain, don't drown my dear.
Consumed by grief and doubt, she cries
She has but nothing left to fear.
She squanders love as it comes her way
Step into the light, don't hide my dear.
With a wistful plea, she begs him to stay
But does her frail heart prove sincere?
She regrets letting him slip though her fingers
Step out of the cold, don't shiver my dear.
On the tip of her tongue, her lost love lingers
The sorrow foretold that they wouldn't cohere.
Streams of scarlet run down her shoulder
Step into the darkness, don't wither my dear.
All she needs is for someone to hold her
Someone to listen as she sheds a tear.
Silence becomes her, as still as the night
Step into the warmth, don't freeze my dear.
To take that plunge off a bridge, she might
Only to bring forth the end that is near.
She carries on her tenuous life
Step away from it all, don't weep my dear.
Cutting her deep like the sharpest knife
This state of apprehension won't disappear.