Hey everybody! Usually when it’s been this long since my last post, I start with “insert lame excuse here”. However, this time, I’m thrilled to be blogging since my site has been down for about 5 days. I won’t go into all the nasty details about “insert names of companies here”, or how it has affected me “insert long list of expletives here”.
I have images of some cool folks to post now that I’m up and running. In the meantime, here’s a ridiculous trip down memory lane. These pics might explain my aversion to studio portraits. With that said, if I find myself full of enough truth serum (aka, tequila), I might just have to admit that these are some of my favorite childhood photos.
I do kinda love this first one. That is still the face I make in most photos. Also, the hands I have now are either brilliant prosthetics, or that is some serious shag carpet.
Oh dear. Here starts years of unfortunate hair. During this time of my life, I would gently stroke my head and say “pretty hair”. I’m sure this was a joke started by my parents. They seem nice, but they are pure evil. I’m not sure what the deal is with the flower. I guess they thought something in the photo should be pretty.
I would wear a fancy bracelet while farming. I have to point something out here. All the props and outfits you’re seeing were not supplied by the photography studio. These were all from the creative mind of my mom. I guess this explains why I have boxes of stuff I use for photo shoots. That rooster might have to make an appearance in my next boudoir shoot.
I’m not sure what to say about this next one, other than I must have made my mom really mad to deserve this.
Good student = sweater vest + smarty-pants pose + apple + pretending to read when I’d rather be on my Big Wheel.
I have to give credit where it’s due. These images where taken by the Don Frederick Studio in Wisconsin. I wasn’t sure if they’d still be around, but they are! Right on! If you’re out that way and need some portraits, check them out. Make sure you bring some eggs and a bale of hay. My mom and I would be proud.