Warts and All

“If you reveal your secrets to the wind you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.”

Kahlil Gibran

I first started writing a diary when I was thirteen years old and I had a crush on my English teacher. I bought a tiny diary which I filled with pages and pages of passion, drama and hormonal angst which is fairly typical of moody teenagers everywhere. Everything was important in those days – my heart would be broken simply if he ignored me or worse, if he criticised my (pretty appalling) girly teenage writing. The crush lasted for several years. The poor bloke, I wonder if he ever knew how many journals I filled writing about him. On the other hand – he was the one who made me realise I wanted to be a writer one day, so I certainly owe him a huge debt of gratitude.

I kept a diary for many years. Many teenage girls keep them, mainly as somewhere that they can let off steam in private, a therapy to work through private thoughts that cannot be shared anywhere else. “Dear Diary...” is a way of expressing “the real you” that you cannot show your Mum or Dad. Diaries are secret things and the whole point of them is that you should always tell the truth. They must be as explicit as possible – how else can you purge what you really feel unless you are totally honest with yourself? Your diary is your soul. It is who you are.

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Many moons ago we were having some pretty extensive building work done on our house and I was horrified to find that one of our building contractors (who had a crush on me) had gone through my private hidden belongings and had helped himself to a volume-or-three of my diaries. I only found out when his mates started quoting me the gory details of my (at the time, rather adventurous) sex life. To say I was horrified, shocked and appalled would be the understatement of the decade. I stopped writing a diary on that very day and I’ve never kept once since. Nowadays of course, I blog instead, albeit not to the same intimate and explicit levels (which is a relief all round, I’m sure.) After that episode I actually feel more comfortable sharing my life on a public forum with a bunch of people I have never met than I do actually keeping my thoughts in a locked (but physical and therefore covetable) journal.

Unlike some bloggers, I really try very hard not to have a blogging persona. It is important to me to be myself here as much as possible. What you see is what you get. I write pretty much the way I used to in my diaries, minus the intimate stuff. The trouble is with bloggie personas, if you play an online role that isn’t really “you” then when you eventually meet your bloggie friends in person, they then find that they don’t really know you at all, and then you get found out. Like my diaries, I always feel that it is important to tell it like it is, warts and all, and I am invariably drawn to bloggers who do the same (and you all know who you are.)

Blogging does no good unless you are brutally honest about yourself. It is important to tell the truth, for the sake of yourself and your readers. If you conceal your real life and your thoughts, if you invent an online persona of who you would like to be, if you exaggerate and fabricate your life, then you are lying to yourself and your readers. In such cases your blog will ultimately fail because it will not be a true record of who you are and how you feel. It will not be your sanctuary, your therapy – instead it will be a fraud to the highest possible degree.

After four years of blogging, if I have any advice to offer potential bloggers, it is this:

Assume all your secrets will be found out one day. Always write with this in mind. And tell the truth. Always. No exceptions.

I guess I learned that lesson the hard way.

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Steamy images are of Syd and AJ

Some Things Are Better Than Cameras

I've always considered "giving" a car or refrigerator or washing machine to one's wife to be mysogenistic.

Stephen Haynes, Magic Flute Nudes

Thanks to Dr L and Mr Wood for their birthday wishes for last week. Like Dave, I’m not normally a fan of birthdays, but some are better than others. This one definitely classified as “better.” Rich bought me a mega-cheap-but-cute little 5 megapixel tiny-handbag-sized-camera in a feminine shade of SCREAMING PINK. Note: this was not for the purposes of “real photography” (whatever that is) but simply so I can have a camera to stick in the glove-compartment of my car, so I can snap pretty piccies of landscapes and so forth whilst travelling. No I’m not carrying my proper camera (Rich’s old 350D) in the car – it would get nicked, for one thing, and I don’t have time to pause and set up a good landscape-with-tripod shot with yelling kids in the car, for another.

So after unwrapping my pressie and fending off my daughter (a lover of all things pink, and especially cameras, as you know) I did get round to snapping a piccie or two, and I was actually surprised with it’s picture quality. It’s no Canon 5D Mark 2 of course, but it’s not bad at all considering it cost less than bottle of wine. And before you ask, no I’m not showing the results, largely because I suffer from an inferiority complex regarding my photographic abilities – guys, I really suck. You try being married to a really good photographer – we ordinary mortals could never compare.

Anyway, I will admit to being slightly miffed because my beloved husband had only bought me a twenty quid pressie – however, I know times are hard, day-job wise, so I tried to be spiritual about the whole thing, but nevertheless, as I’m usually both shallow and extremely spoilt (I’m an accountant after all, as well as being a yummy mummy, so materialism is part of my nature) I was trying to overcome a totally unreasonable and ungrateful irritation (he hadn’t even bought me chocolates – jeez…there ARE standards, you know?!) when he suddenly handed me a set of strange keys, along with a big hug and a “Happy Birthday, Lin!”

I looked at the keys in confusion. There were two, both with a characteristic “BMW” logo in the middle. A light bulb in my head went on. My heart in my throat, I rushed to the window and sure enough there was a shiny, black BMW 1 series parked on the drive. “I know it’s not new,” he said, “but it IS a BMW… ”

I didn’t know whether to be mad at him for spending the money we don’t have, or delighted for my truly awesome pressies. Methinks I’ll err on the side of delighted.

It might be several years old, the seat might occasionally jam and the doors might not always shut as easily as they should, but wow, it drives like a dream! They don’t call it "the ultimate driving machine" for nothing. Misogyny be damned! What an awesome car!

Note: the husband’s not bad either.

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Time for a slobbery photo, methinks. Syd and A.J. of course.

The Art of Hyprocrisy

“Hypocrisy: prejudice with a halo”
Ambrose Bierce

This post is dedicated to lovers of mature cheddar and blatant hypocrisy.

I’ve decided to start lying about my age on MM and other modeling forums. No I’m not suffering from gerontophobia (fear of getting old) and 90% of the time I forget that I’m classified as geriatric in the modelling world now that I’ve turned forty, at least until someone reminds me, which photographers do, rather too often.

“Uh-oh!” you’re now saying. “Someone’s called Lin ‘an old model.’ Run for cover, quick!”

Long term readers will now correctly anticipate the inevitable rant about how incredibly annoyed I get when I am referred to as a “mature” model (What am I? A piece of mouldy cheese?) or when yet another a photographer tells me that “beauty is ageless” (yes I do realise Mr Toggie that you’re trying to be nice but clearly you have an I.Q. equal to your age, because frankly I can’t think of a more condescending thing to say to any woman.)

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Why is it that our industry deems models to be “over the hill” by the time they’re twenty-five? Why does youth and beauty in the photographic world usually equate to the 18-25 age group? And why are the majority of photographers ageist (present readers excepted of course) even though I’m sure they don’t think they are, and I know they’re really just trying to be nice?

Forget the crap you read in magazines. FORTY IS YOUNG. I’m not dead and buried yet – spend too much time in the modeling world and you’ll end up feeling like photographers want to exhume your body every time they ask to shoot you, or worse, they treat you as if you’re only modeling because either a) you’re in the throes of a mid-life crisis yourself, or b) you’re clearly a bit deranged but worthy of study “for the art, you know” but God forbid they pay you for a shoot…just be grateful for what you can get at your age.

Whoa!!! Deep, regular breaths…breathe in, breathe out…calm thoughts, Lin…calm…

Now hang on a minute, perhaps I’m being a wee bit hasty here?

Aren’t I just as guilty of ageism as everyone else? If I'm not remotely ageist then why do I stereotype "older" men as being sexier and more attractive than their younger counterparts? Oh yes I do, you know. Not that I have anything against younger men of course (my hunky young window cleaner bears an uncanny resemblance to John Cusack, and what teenage girl’s knees didn’t wobble precariously after seeing him in Say Anything?) but I’m first-and-foremost attracted to experience, wisdom and silver beards, all of which are primarily found in “mature” cheese-loving individuals of …um…a slightly older persuasion (unless said beards are caused by stress of course…and hello dearest Rich, please do stop tweezering your grey hairs 'cos I really do adore them.)

Older guys are sexier, no doubt about it. Not only do they usually share my rather cynical attitude to life, but they invariably treat me as an equal, not a fossil, they never condescend to tell me I’m “still a pretty young thing,” and they do make me feel like I’ve got a brain rather than a pair of (saggy) breasts. Don’t get me wrong, men in their forties are great, but in the last couple of years I’ve realised that they’re often way too stressed out working or busy having mid-life crises and chasing twenty-year old totty to take much notice of women of their own age.

Older men have done the ego trip thing and come out the other side a better person. They are invariably battle-hardened, don’t take themselves too seriously, and more importantly they know a heck of a lot more about everything, which means I can learn a heck of a lot from them. To me at least, good conversation, wit and wisdom are far sexier than a guy’s firm and rippling young muscles or his mighty schlong.

Am I sounding ageist and offensive yet? Good. Now you know how it feels on MM, every single day.

Maybe I really am getting old, because it seems to me that chemistry between two people isn’t really about physical appearances, it’s about the mind connection. Brains will always be sexier than brawn. Sorry, but it’s true. Real beauty is in the mind, not the body, and because the mind improves with age like a fine wine or that maturing piece of cheese, then I guess that, my friends, is why I’m drawn to men older than myself, and why I am fundamentally as guilty of ageism as the very photographers I criticised in the first place.

I’m very good at the art of hypocrisy though, even if I do say so myself.

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Images are of Syd

An Overdose Of Ice-cream

Please excuse the dodgy ice-cream metaphors. This was written late at night after a coffee-chocolate ice-cream bender, courtesy of my ten-year-old-son’s supreme cooking skills. From this we conclude that too much ice-cream and sleep deprivation make me rant incoherently.

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It turns out that Rich’s disillusionment with studio nudes didn’t happen until he joined Deviant Art. Do you remember back to the Scott Church workshop where he walked in and was horrified to discover that everyone else looked exactly the same as him? Well DA had a similar effect on him. Of course he was well aware that his style of fine art studio photography wasn’t unique by any means, but he really didn’t realise just how very common it had become in the last couple of years. Finding hundreds of photographers shooting images with incredibly similar composition and lighting was a profoundly dispiriting experience.

Ansel Adams once said that you’re not a photographer until you’ve made 10,000 negatives. In Ansel’s time this would have taken twenty years to shoot and develop. Nowadays many photographers achieve that in less than six months. There are literally millions of “fine art photographers” out there. Digital photography has now become so cheap, automatic cameras are so easy to use and the quality has become so high that photographic art is now within reach of the common man. Up until now I had always applauded the digital revolution and I argued passionately for the new digital democracy which meant that anyone could have a go at art, even complete beginners like me if I felt like it. I loved looking at the millions of cool fine art images online. I felt that the genre was infinite and that there was room for everyone. Yes indeedy, I was the champion of the millions of wannabe fine art photographers…until now, until it hurt the one photographer I really care about.

Call me naïve but the scale of the problem simply didn’t hit me until very recently. In my selfish desire for more, more, more fantastic nude photos, I didn’t really stop to think just what effect it would have on long established photographers who had made their lives from creating art. I just didn’t realise how the sheer glut of images would weigh down the spirit and suck the artist’s soul dry. No photographer wants to be a pack animal. Each budding artist wants to create something personal and unique, but how is that possible in this modern saturated digital photographic world?

Now there are those amongst you who will say, “Don’t worry about volume. Good images will stand out from the dross.” But wait a minute. Let’s say there are about a million wannabe fine art photographers at any one time (a very conservative estimate by today’s standards.) Even if half of those million fine art photographers have the technical expertise, the passion and the creative vision to produce reasonably good artistic photographs, then you suddenly have half a million reasonably good photographers on the scene, all jostling to pimp their art, all greedy to be noticed. How does Rich (or any photographer) fight back the torrent of ever-improving images? How does he make his work stand out from the 499,999 others? It simply isn’t enough any more to say that the cream will always rise to the top. Technology has resulted in a global dairy overdose, and I can honestly say that in this house we’re beginning to suffer from a very strong lactose intolerance.

Finding out that you’re not remotely unique, that despite your best efforts you’re still the same as thousands of others, has been a real wake up call for a developing photographer like Rich. I would desperately love it if he would keep shooting studio nudes, and it may be that he decides to do so, but I also realise that he may need to tread a new path. He needs to find his own style, his own new flavour of ice-cream so to speak. Discovering a new take on the thousands of flavours already out there isn’t as easy as going out and buying a new tub from Ben & Jerry’s, it’s going to take a lot of thought. But as his creamy old muse, you can be sure that I’ll be giving Rich all the encouragement that I can, whilst also acknowledging that he needs space to think before he can rediscover his mojo, before he can start to taste fun again.

I often refer to photography as my faith. To be honest this isn’t too far from the truth. I am probably deluding myself but I would like to believe that quantity still doesn’t beget quality in this new digital world. The volume of images might be off the scale in the face of the fine art tsunami, but there are still very few truly unique photographs which really pack a profound emotional punch, which genuinely move a viewer with their message – such aesthetic flavours of art remain as elusive and difficult to create as they have always been.

In my opinion, striving to discover your own unique photographic flavour should in itself be reason enough to keep on shooting.

Don’t photograph to compete or compare yourself with others.

Do it because it’s who you are.

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Images are of Syd and A.J.

On Why I Make A Terrible Model

My humblest apologies if I upset anyone with this post, but this has been eating at me for months now and it just had to come out. Think of it as me taking a large sink plunger to my seriously blocked pipes. Cleans out the crap so they flow properly again.

As an art model, when I pose for a shot, I am often required to act. I put on a mask, I put aside my own reality and slip into role. I am trying, to the best of my ability, to interpret the photographer’s instructions, to bring alive his creative vision at that particular moment in time. I think most art models would agree with me that it is this collaboration between artist and muse which produces a great picture.

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However, more often than not, when such acting is required, the emotions depicted in the story are not real, they are contrived. The model has to put her own personality aside to wear a mask, and temporarily trade her own reality for a role. It is not who she actually is in real life. It is a fantasy.

Now please don’t get me wrong, I think that this process can produce some absolutely fabulous images, and it can sure be immense fun to create, but this topic has been slowly fermenting in my mind for the last couple of months, and the trouble is that I just don’t enjoy it any more. The question for me personally, is why?

The short answer is that I’m almost certainly not very good at this modeling/acting combination (I’m not fishing for compliments, I’m just being honest here.) That’s not a result of lack of practice because anyone can become excellent at something if they love doing it and they try hard enough, even me. I wondered if it’s because I just can’t be bothered, but no, that’s not me either. I’m actually quite dedicated to trying my hardest for a shoot when required. But after much rumination, I’ve realised that this is my (hopefully temporary) reaction against producing fantasies. I just don’t like acting for a photograph. It’s that simple. I don’t like wearing a mask, no not even for the higher purpose of realising a photographer’s vision.

If I’m trading in my own reality in order to play a role, then to paraphrase Jim Morrison, I’m trading in my own senses for an act. I’m putting aside myself to be what someone else (the photographer) wants me to be. And although subjugating my own freedom for another person’s reality for a few hours is no big deal for most models (after all, what’s a few hours of your life to create art?), I personally just don’t like doing it any more. Why? Maybe it’s the latent feminist in me, or maybe I’m just a conceited and cantankerous old cow who doesn’t like being bossed around. But I think that the real reason is that because I’ve been exposed over the last few years to many different photographic styles, this process of study has actually produced some sort of personal psychological evolution about of how art should be created.

I’ve realised that I’m happy to be photographed as I am, for a photographer to capture my character, bring out my beauty or my flaws - either will do as long as the emotions reflected are real. I don’t even mind shooting erotica (it’s rather fun, as you can imagine!) just as long as the feelings generated in me are genuine. I just don’t want to pretend any more. I’m tired of putting on a mask, of doing as I’m told and faking emotion for the sake of supposed “art.” Yes it really matters to me if the photograph is produced from real emotion rather than faked. You, the viewer, might not know or care, but I helped create the image, and I really DO care.

The reason I choose to model for a particular photographer is because I believe that he can teach me something new about my psyche which I had not previously realised. I do this because I want to learn more. I’m not a posable Barbie doll. I’m a real woman with a mind of my own and if a photographer is only interested in what is in his own head, and just needs a slab of meat or someone to stroke his ego, then for me that is unacceptable and I’m not interested in shooting with him.

I guess I am making some sort of personal judgment here, because IMO some of the photographs which are quite obviously derived from contrived emotions are (to me) just fake drama. They might well be telling a story, and very successfully too, but such “art” has no more truth than the faked orgasm of a porn star.

And that, to me, is not what photography is about.

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Mushy images are of Syd and A.J. Real emotion guaranteed.

(It's also worth pointing out that Rich disagrees with most of this waffle. He reckons it's a phase and that I'll get over it soon!)

Who would you rather be?

Myths … are heroic struggles to comprehend the truth in the world.
Ansel Adams.

The latest in-game at my youngest son’s school is: Who would you rather be?

Now I thought that the obvious choices would be between football heroes such as David Beckham, and pop stars? But this is no ordinary school. This is Hogwarts. So these three little kids decided that they would set their sights a little higher. They decided to choose between God, Zeus and the Devil.

"How come you decided to be Zeus?" I asked my son?
“Because he’s the God of all Gods, he’s big and strong and he’s cool. And he can zap people with lightening.”

So there we have it. My nine-year old son’s ultimate icon is not only a Greek God, but THE Greek God. With that sort of ambition, I’m guessing that he’s gonna go far.
Damn it almost makes those humungous school fees worthwhile.

But it does beg the question, who is your photo-icon and why?

The word icon is derived from the Greek eikon, meaning an image. In the artistic context, icons are visual representations or symbols of sacred or complex concepts (often religious), but the word is also used in modern language to describe the image-makers, in other words, an artist who is so innovative he is practically a super-hero. The UK ex-New-Nude magazine, now dumbed down, de-nuded and rebranded to the absolutely dreadful Photo Icon, uses the term icon to describe “cutting edge photography produced by pioneering photographers.” (Aside: Do NOT buy this magazine. It has no naked women, it is entirely safe for work, and has now become so boring it reviews hiking boots. Honestly. I cancelled our subscription.)

As for me, I’m big on icons, though they are always real-life people as opposed to dead Gods. I favour artists who have pushed the boundaries, who think outside the box. Those photographers whose art moves me emotionally, whose images make me really think, who show me their version of truth and zap my world with an uncustomary lightening bolt.

Several of you fall into this category. I really look up to you, but I ain’t gonna tell you that personally. Lord, no. You’ll get an insufferably big head, or think I’m a bloggie stalker, or I’ll be called a suck-up. Heaven forbid I’d be labelled a “fan.” Ugh. How unbearably crass. We British middle-aged ladies retain a stiff upper lip at all times, whilst secretly nurturing adolescent adoration for your sheer balls and artistic talent.

Do you care? Good heavens no. The whole point of Zeus is to make us realise just how insignificant we mere mortals are. You’re a living icon. I don’t exist in your world, other than as a member of the unwashed masses. I am a mere plebeian to your Zeus.

As for my ultimate icon, why of course it must be my beloved Artiste en Residence. (I have to say that, otherwise he’ll sulk.) No really. He is my hero. He’s also so incredibly Zeus-like that apparently he has no icon. They are pointless in his opinion. He only aspires to be the best he can be. He’s his own super-hero. Pah! This is either very enlightened or the arrogance of a horrendously large ego. I’m not entirely sure which.

I never think of myself as an icon. What is in other people's minds is not in my mind. I just do my thing.
Audrey Hepburn.



Zeus and Hera, having a cuddle.

Profit Before Ego

It’s Monday morning. Grab a coffee. Let’s talk money.

From what I understand, most art nude prints are sold to collectors, often regular folks like me who collect the art that they love. Over a lifetime I will probably build up quite a collection of paintings and photography, and of course I live in hope of finding I have a modern equivalent of a Carla Bruni print that is worth a fortune (don’t mind me, I’m only jealous) but in the meantime, whilst I lie back and wait for my equivalent collector’s financial miracle to occur, I’ll just keep on plodding along with my low-budget collecting of photos that tickle my fancy.

Now the key phrase in the last paragraph was “low-budget.” Of course like most ordinary everyday wannabe art collectors, I’m broke (this is the credit crunch after all.) There’s not much in my wallet apart from the odd moth or three. Carla Bruni and Lucian Freud collectors aside, most ordinary folks who collect art only have a few $$$ spare a month, and will only buy a piece occasionally for a present, or when they find an exceptional print that they really, really must have. Even then, in my case, if the photograph costs over about $50, it’s out of my league, and most folks I know are in the same boat.

So how does that help you, the poor starving artist who relies upon print sales as a bit of extra cash to fund his art?

Now some of you out there will think that me paying you $50 for a print is entirely reasonable (and that would be those of you who are still selling prints, I suspect) but some of you will be horrified, because you know your art is worth much more than that. Based on past print price sales, perhaps you won’t even consider getting out of bed for less than $300-$1000+ a print?

If this is the case, then congrats! You have just priced yourself out of the majority of the modern art collector’s market. O.K. Let me explain. We are entering a recession. You can only sell your art at the price which the market will bear. You need to drop your prices if you want to survive. There’s no use holding out for the wealthy collectors (unless you have Carla piccies of course) because they won’t be able to buy from you very soon. Remember, people want to collect something which is both affordable and desirable. They want a bargain.

My recommendation to you, as your trusty nekkid financial adviser, is to adjust your intended marketing strategy, depending on your goals. If you want to regularly supplement your income by selling prints, then consider dropping the price. Shop around for lower printing/packaging/shipping methods (without overly compromising on quality of course), offer limited editions , a “print of the month” (does this idea work? I’ve no idea), and schmooze your regular clients with entertaining email updates and access to private “exclusive” web site images (Stephen Haynes does this wonderfully and he doesn’t do too badly in print sales I suspect.) Plus please do consider selling smaller prints. Small canvas b+w photographic prints really sell well over here in the UK, because they are perceived as “fashionable art” (I’ve no idea if this is the “in-thing” in the States as well.)

If you think I’m talking out of my ass again, then I guess you have to ask yourself what your priorities are? Do you want the occasional high-value sale to a wealthy collector, and your name to remain relatively unknown, or do you want to opt for selling cheaper prints to ordinary everyday mortals (like me) and thus increasing your (marketing) exposure? Surely you are more likely to be more well-known in the long-term, if you pile 'em high and sell 'em cheap now?

If you sell lots of smaller, inexpensive prints to regular devoted fans who collect your art because they love it, just think about how many of your photographs will be “out there” after say, five years? How much more successful will you be?

What use is being posh, obscure and exclusive if no-one can afford to buy your work?



Ooh, I've been waiting for over a week to show these images of devoted couple Syd and A.J. from last week's steamy shoot. (A lot of fun, and really great piccies too - thanks guys!)

Art, Conflict and Pot-Stirring

I sometimes get asked why I write about controversial issues, why I often invite argument or “stir the pot.”

“It’s what I do!” I reply. But I’ve been thinking about this, and the question deserves some sort of deeper answer.

As I’m writing this, not six feet away from me, my two sons are fighting again. Not physically fighting (although a certain amount of wrestling is normal for brothers) but I mean the usual type of yelling, disagreements and petty insults which are normal for a couple of young male siblings who are only three years apart. Rich and I recognise it as inevitable, but that doesn’t make it easy to live with, particularly because we’re normally such easy going parents, and we don’t like living in the middle of a war-zone (which is what it feels like tonight.)

So much of our everyday lives involves conflict, politics and disagreement. You can get overloaded with it just listening to the news every day, but there’s also conflict and argument at work, at home, and so on. So it’s natural that photographers and artists definitely want to stay well clear of politics in the art world, because they’ve had enough of it in everyday life. Photography is meant to be relaxing, it’s meant to be fun, it’s supposed to be playing. Why invite conflict by writing about contentious issues? Why not just publish soothing, calm, uncontroversial articles that make people warm and fuzzy? Why not stick to topics that don’t rock the boat? Or better still, Lin, why not just keep your big mouth shut?

Hmm…Well, let me draw an analogy between writing and another art form, by way of explanation. The same reasoning applies to both.

When you publish a photograph, whether it’s online on a blog or web site, or whether you exhibit it as a print, you are inviting viewers to judge your work. The same argument applies to a piece of writing. For every person that does like it, you’ll find two that don’t. Some people may think it’s a moving and innovative artistic statement, but there will certainly be others who disagree, who think it’s banal and average, who think they could have done it better, or who simply hate it for reasons of personal bias or because they have different tastes. So the process of publishing any type of art will invite conflict by its very subjective nature.

In some ways it’s easier to avoid conflict by not showing your work. I believe this is a mistake. “You are your art,” as my oldest son is fond of saying. It is the essence of who you are, your artistic statement, it is what you stand for. If you don’t invite controversy and conflict and you go out with the aim of never offending anyone, then quite frankly you run the risk of creating banal, meaningless art, or worse, you won’t produce photographs or write at all. Your art, by its very nature, begs an audience. It needs to be published because it invites discussion, stimulates the imagination, it teaches, and the controversy and discussion involved results in evolution of both artist and the viewer.

IMO, conflict is therefore a good thing. When my boys argue (tonight they’re actually arguing about who is best at CGI art, believe it or not! Yikes, our kids have become their parents already!) it means that at the end of the evening, they’ll either have come to a consensus, or they may well still vehemently disagree. But they will have learned something from looking at that artistic image, discussing it, and arguing like cat and dog about it. Their opinion of the process of art will have evolved.

Conflict is an inevitable part of the artistic process. It is a positive step. A process of growth. So don’t be disheartened if you feel like your photographs, paintings, CGI images, or even your written blog posts end up as a virtual war zone. This is completely and utterly normal, and it’s all part and parcel of being an artist.

“Conflict is the gadfly of thought. It stirs us to observation and memory. It instigates to invention. It shocks us out of sheeplike passivity, and sets us at noting and contriving.”
John Dewey

(Oh no, I’m getting addicted to quotations…I blame Mr Wood...)



Syd, who is hopefully popping round for coffee and a shoot some time soonish.

Hurrah! It’s Valentine’s Day!

What? You mean you didn’t remember to get your other half something extra special today???

Boy, are you in trouble. BIG time.

It doesn’t matter if you believe Valentine’s Day is commercialised rubbish (we all know it is.) It doesn’t matter if your lovely understanding lady says she doesn’t want anything for Valentine’s Day and that you, her gorgeous partner, are quite enough. These are just words. If, in fact, you do take her at her word and forget all about it, then I’m betting large sums of money that she’ll give you a hug and a kiss, say it’s quite all right and she really doesn’t believe in all that nonsense, and then she’ll quietly make your life living hell for the next few months. And you won’t know why.

Valentine’s Day is probably THE most dangerous day in the romance calendar. Emotional and social politics at their worst. A small crack in a relationship can turn into a bottomless pit when huge expectations of the perfect love token are dashed by the appearance of a bedraggled bouquet of flowers from the local garage, or even worse, a tacky card. Forgetting altogether, or re-gifting a box of chocolates is relationship-ending Armageddon. You just can’t win.

It’s a shame that people feel such enormous pressure about this one day. Of course, the fault can be placed squarely at the door of the card and tacky gift manufacturers, and the media must take some blame too, but that doesn’t change the fact that for most people, Valentine’s Day is an emotional minefield. The expectations that society has drummed into us are so huge, that it’s inevitable that there’s going to be a let-down. If people feel disappointed or angry because of what they see as one inadequate gesture on that day, then it’s often assumed (rightly or wrongly) that something is at fault with their relationship.

Modern Western custom dictates that in a conventional heterosexual relationship, the main love token is traditionally gifted from the man to the woman. It is further assumed by women that their partner should know without being told exactly what they want for Valentine’s Day, and if their partner gets it wrong, then this is obviously because they don’t care enough.

Of course this is completely untrue. Men are not mind-readers, and they need a bit of a helping hand. Also men often have a hard time trying to convey an emotional sentiment via a piece of card (they quite rightly see it is pointless – the love of their life already knows he loves her, why the hell should a card make any difference?) So they often buy the first cheap card that that looks the best and says something about “everlasting love.” And then the poor chaps have to decide how to sign it. Women read a great deal into the man’s salutation, the phrases, With Love, Love, Forever Yours, are given obsessive consideration. You better get it right boyo, otherwise your lady love will probably take that romantic Valentine’s meal she lovingly cooked and donate it to the dog. And don’t even get me started on the overpriced flowers for Valentine’s Day. For heaven’s sake, why??? They are flown halfway across the world, at vast expense to the environment and your wallet, only to be stuck in a pot, and they’ll be dead within a week. What a waste.

Yes, It’s true. I am the most unromantic female ever to grace the planet. I just don’t get the point of it all. Rich shows me he loves me by his everyday actions, by his kindness and his caring. I don’t need a card or flowers or a particular day of the year to tell me how he feels. I can see it in his face every single day.

But assuming that mankind should celebrate Valentine’s Day, (after all it’s not going away, no matter how much we wish it would), then why not use it as a day to take a moment to really appreciate each other? Rather than focussing on the correct romantic gestures or lack of them, lovers should use February 14th as the starting point for putting new “oomph” into a romance.

Make Valentine’s Day the start of taking steps to rescue or revive a relationship that may be drowning under the responsibilities of work, families and sheer grinding exhaustion. Forget about the buying of “stuff.” Love isn’t something you buy. You can’t put a price on devotion.

Instead of wasting money on commercial pap, why not take a few hours out to actually TALK to each other? You know….communicate. Touch base. Appreciate your partner for who they really are. Look, really LOOK beneath the surface of your partner. Recognise how much they do for you. Realise through their actions just how much they care.

You both love each other. You know you do.

Now…do you really need to feed the card and gift industry in order to prove that?



Syd and A.J. looking slushy.

Late Edit: Rich has just handed me the most gorgeous romantic card….oh God, the guilt, the guilt…

The Commonality of the Digital Age

One of the most common criticisms of Model Mayhem is its reflection of the rapid growth in digital photography. Half a million members, and growing, and all thanks to the digital age. Millions of people can now buy a camera for under $100 and call themselves “photographer.” This is the new world of photography, a new freedom of expression. Anyone can do it now.

Long standing photographers who were trained before the digital age, the die-hard-dedicated film buffs, often argue that this is a bad thing. That there’s no talent any more, or if there is, it’s swallowed up in such a massive amount of dross, that it’s very difficult to find any new and exceptional photographic talent any more. They argue that it cheapens the art of photography, that the quality of the profession is gone.

To some extent, this is true. It is certainly a lot harder nowadays to make a decent living as a photographer. With major fashion magazines paying less and less for decent fashion spreads, with the ongoing death of photojournalism because the news web sites invite anyone to upload pictures from their mobiles, photography has become free, just another casualty of the insidious growth of the internet age where “free” is expected, taken for granted. Photography is now fast, instant, just another microwave ready-meal. There is no photographic learning process, no years of training, no growth of skill, no learning of exposure or lighting because the cheap automatic camera does it all for you. Where’s the real photography gone?

The sad thing is that this growth has resulted in many a photographer quitting the profession, or going bust. They still love photography with a burning passion, but they simply have been chased away by the digital age, by the growth of “free.”

There is still money to be made for the exceptional photographer, of course, but it is certainly much more difficult nowadays. Most “good-but-not-quite-Avedon” grade photographers, who used to make a perfectly decent living out of all sorts of photography (landscapes, glamour, art, portraits and so forth), have given up long ago and gone to find another day-job that will pay the mortgage. You only have to look in our local town and see how many photographers have gone bust in the last five years. It’s heartbreaking to see. A graveyard of broken dreams and broken livelihoods, because the public don’t use professional photographers any more. They have a cheap camera and a copy of Photoshop at home. What do they need a professional for? And anyone can call themselves a pro nowadays. It’s all too easy.



But there’s the flip side too.

Firstly there’s the feel-good factor.
O.K. so photography done by your average Joe Bloggs isn’t outstanding art. It’s instant rough-and-ready photography, but this is part of its charm. And I’m very sure it has given Joe immense satisfaction. And yes, he may consider himself an amateur photographer and list photography as one of his hobbies. But if it makes him happy, and gives him even a smidgen of appreciation of life behind the lens, who are we to look down on that, or belittle him for trying?

From time spent playing with a cheap instant camera, Joe might decide to study photography in depth a bit more, buy a few photography magazines. He might “get bitten by the photography bug,” scour the internet, study lighting and form, buy every book he can get his hands on, save up for a home studio, hire some nudes, and before you know it, a few years have passed and Joe is photographing private nude portfolios and earning a very tidy second income from it, thank-you very much.

In this way, digital photography has shifted the balance of power from the elite professionally trained photographers over to the common man, and now we are all in control of our own art.

Secondly, the internet presents billions of photographs to people who would otherwise not have seen them. It is an art gallery for the world. Millions of people’s lives are enriched by viewing fantastic images on an instant basis. And this virtual cyber-art gallery is free for all.

I’m going on my own experience here, so bear with me. Before a couple of years ago, I had a very limited understanding of fine-art. It meant nothing to me. I didn’t see it as art. And I want to emphasise that point. I did not really “SEE.”

Rich’s photography has changed the way I see. With just a couple of years of studying images from thousands of different photographers, I don’t just recognise and see a good photograph now, I feel it too. Photography has re-educated me. I see the world in a different light nowadays, and that’s all because of my new digital education. And if digital technology can teach that to the average non-artistic person like me, then surely this new commonality of art can change the world?

The growth of digital photography and the internet presents a new democracy of seeing. And I, for one, have been immeasurably enriched by this freely available art form.



Syd, looking as amazing as always.

The key to good photography is composition

I’m reposting a comment from the learned Grommit - one of only a few of us who has actually had formal artist training, comes from a family of exceptionally talented artists, and has a psychology degree to boot (never say our readers aren’t highbrow!) He very kindly shared his words of wisdom on the Weston veggie shots a few days ago. It’s interesting because a) I can’t write this sort of arty language for toffee, and b) because he says what all photographers already know of course, but it’s news to me because I have about as much understanding of composition as Gordon Brown understands the UK economy.

You can read Grommit’s full comment here (scroll down) but I’ve repeated the critical bit below.

"It's odd, I've followed many of the links to other photographers mentioned on your blog and tried to come up with why some work for me and many just don't. Often, it comes down to 2 principles.

Can I see with my own eyes the person to person connection that existed between the photographer and model, or subject? This is not the same as what the photographer thinks is a connection. S/he might believe that there was a great vibe on the day of the shoot. My question is can *I* as an external viewer see and relate to that connection? Without that, the shared understanding of what passed between the two is lost to me as a viewer. The performance of the moment is gone and all that is left is a sculpture, or worse still a dead shape. This is most prevalent when the model just doesn't look "present" at the scene. I am always drawn to the face and body language to see if the model seems to be actually into what s/he is doing.

Second, does the photographer have any sense of 2d space within the 3d photograph? Does s/he understand composition and the need to think in both 3d and 2d at the same time? I've seen many a picture and thought "for heavens sake, take an evening class in the theory of design and you could transform these". There is a reason why fine artists have study art theory throughout the centuries - it works. The same rules of balance and form apply to not only paintings but any form of visual layout, from magazine design, typography to - most certainly - photography. And I really think that's a vital step in the transition between amateurs and professional status - moving beyond understanding the physical technique to a mastery of aesthetic technique as well, until it become instinct. A very few people have that aesthetic understanding naturally (lucky bastards). The rest of us have to work at it.

So to answer your original question as to why the first image works and the third doesn't - it's all down to success in the composition."

Richard’s comment on this: “Yep! I told you this last month, but you never listen to me.” (smug bugger)

My comment: “Dammit, I wish I could have said it that well in the first place.”

Incidentally Grommit, if you want to see some exceptional fine-art photography where the model really “engages”, go look at some of Dave Rudin’s work , particularly his shots of Sarah Ellis. They knock my socks off! (Actually Dave Rudin knocks my socks off because he really is gorgeous, but let's not go there.)

On another, totally unrelated topic, I’d like to introduce bloggers who haven’t tried it yet to the (now very old) Gender Genie. This was developed many moons ago by Israeli scientists and claims to be able to tell you, with 80% accuracy, whether a piece of writing has been done by a man or a woman. (I’m guessing that our resident psychologist, Dr Grommit, will make mincemeat of this program.)

Needless to say, after extensive analysis of our blog posts, my writing is predominantly male, and Rich’s is predominantly female.

Rich’s comment: “That’s because artists and engineers think with different parts of their brains to most people.”

My comment: “Girlie! Girlie! You’re a big Girlie!”

Rich’s comment: Unrepeatable!



The amazing Syd, engaging with Rich rather intensely if you ask me.

Duty before love

Yesterday I had a ten page letter from a close friend who lives a long way away in the north of England. Let’s call her Amy. Despite radically different backgrounds, education and class, we have been writing to each other for twenty-two years now, and we meet when we can. We tell each other practically everything, and we have acted as each other’s confident and shoulder to cry on for longer than I can remember.

Amy is wonderful, a kind and caring woman, hard-working and devoted to her four children whom she has raised single-handed because the four different respective fathers disappeared into the ether at the mere whiff of the phrase “child support”. Amy has had a long and passionate relationship with a beautiful, gentle guy of her own age, called Charles. He is her best friend. They grew up together, were childhood sweethearts and went their separate ways after finishing school, as kids often do. Twenty years later, she bumped into him, and the friendship re-started. It quickly developed into something else…lust became passion which became love, and most important of all, never forget that overwhelming friendship which bound them together so many years ago when they were children. They have been seeing each other for nearly eight years now and love each other very much.

Of course, the problem is that Charles is married. He has two kids and is a devoted family man. He doesn’t love his wife (so he tells Amy), their marriage is dead, in name only, for the sake of the children. Amy has put up with this for the last eight years, suffered through it, tolerated the wife’s jealous rages (and accompanying death threats), the pain, the ripping apart of the soul that comes with a love triangle like this. She is in perpetual emotional agony, craving with every fibre of her being to be with Charles. She believes his promises that he’s going to leave his wife, that he has only stayed with her for the children’s sake, that his snatched and secret nights with Amy are the only time he loves, the only time he feels alive. It is Amy he loves, he promises her. They will be together soon. She just has to wait that little bit longer.

I have had fortnightly letters detailing her love and trust for Charles for many years. His kids are now grown up, and have left home. But still he does not leave. He is still promising to be with Amy, making up different excuses each time (the latest is because his wife would take all his money….well, duh! That’s what divorce involves luvvie!) But Amy’s love is blind, and total. There is only Charles. He loves her and worries about her. They email and text all the time, and have snatched moments when they can. Eight years later, she is still waiting for him, and nothing has changed.

Now you’re going to say : why don’t you tell her to move on? Start again with another guy? Amy has no shortage of male admirers after all. Well, God knows I have tried to tell her, more times than you’ve had hot dinners, that he’s never going to leave his wife. She never believes me. She just thinks I am plain wrong, no matter what I say.

Any idiot can see Charles is never going to leave the wife. Why the hell should he? He has it all, a woman at home to look after him and give him a comfortable life, plus the illicit forbidden passion on the side, the devoted mistress (which is what we call the “other woman” in the UK) who can give him the emotional thrill that is missing in his daily boring grind. He loves them both of course, because it’s perfectly possible to love more than one other person. And I’m sure he feels guilty enough about Amy, he doesn’t like to see her suffer. He’s a decent and caring guy, and a good person. But he is torn between duty to his wife of twenty years, and desire for the new life with his mistress. Should he be true to himself and his desires, and be with Amy? After all, doesn’t he have a right to be happy? Why the hell shouldn’t he leave his wife? Be a fool for love? But what about duty? He is consumed by guilt, desire, and in the end he cannot choose, so he does nothing, and remains miserable.

This story is as old as the hills. Statistically, the hard fact is that in the UK 95% of partners never leave their husband or wife if they have an affair. Believe me, I speak from experience, although this was a long time ago now.

The problem is, which I discovered (and the reason I refuse to have affairs nowadays, other than the fact that I’m devoted to Rich!) is that there may be a real moral issue here. What about the innocent wife who has remained devoted and loving to him for so long, and who knowingly suffers the humiliation and torture of knowing her husband has a sexual relationship with another woman? Presumably the guy still at least likes and respects his wife, and has had many years of companionship and love with her, so what right does the “other woman” have to break that up and cause such emotional pain? In my experience (considerable, unfortunately), the husband often re-writes the history of the marriage in his own mind, ruthlessly excising happiness and companionship from memory, in order to rationalise the hurt he wishes to inflict.

Another point, and I’m sorry to burst everyone’s bubble here, is that nobody has any “divine right” to happiness, no matter what the new-agey self-help books say. If more people realised that, and if everyone stopped thinking of “me-first”, then our society might be a nicer place in which to live. In this particular scenario, the husband and mistress are just being selfish, and causing emotional wreckage and carnage that will mentally scar all parties for life.

Speaking from the experience of being “the other woman”, I learned that defining myself through selfish sexual desire actually resulted in such all-consuming guilt, that it threatened to destroy the person I always believed myself to be. So I got out, even though it was painful. I changed, became “true to myself” and true to what I knew was right. And as a result, I respected myself a hell of a lot more, and I would like to believe I became a better person.

It’s a pity I can’t communicate that to Amy.



Warm fuzzy on-camera chemistry courtesy of Syd and A.J.

The Unfortunates

In a recent post (22nd September), the eloquent and gifted photographer, Mr Jimmy D, imparts his wisdom as to how to become a successful photographer. He says:

“If you seek more positive responses from viewers regarding your work as a pretty girl shooter, you'd do well to photograph models who stereotypically fit most people's perceptions of beauty. Simply put, the hotter the model the more wowed people will be by your photographs of them. Leastwise, it mostly works that way. I know this sounds like I'm saying beauty trumps craft when it comes to pretty girl shooting. (I suppose I am saying exactly that.) If you really want to wow people with your work, shoot the hottest possible….If you seek more positive responses from viewers regarding your work as a pretty girl shooter, you'd do well to photograph models who stereotypically fit most people's perceptions of beauty.”

Basically he seems to be arguing that if you wanna be a successful photographer, then you should shoot the hottest babes.

Good God. I can’t tell you just how offensive this post is, on so many different levels.

I mean, three weeks ago I was committed to marrying Jimmy (should my divorce ever go through) - he was my knight in shining armour, on a huge pedestal. In a single post, he hasn’t so much wobbled on the pedestal, but taken a huge dive off it, landing with a giant “splat” on the studio floor.

C’mon Jimmy, you can’t seriously believe that?

Leaving aside the issue of dwarves (read the post), which rendered me fuming for most of the day (ask Rich – the poor guy went through hell with my ranting), my dearest Jimmy appears to be saying, basically, you should shoot only babes, 18-25 years, long hair, slim, big boobies, pretty face (makeup-enhanced, naturally!) Shoot to society’s narrow perceptions of what is beautiful, desirable, and commercially saleable, and you stand a much more likely chance of fortune and glory. And he’s not just talking about glamour photography, but all nude photography (otherwise he wouldn’t have talked so much about dwarves.)

Jimmy is saying, basically, yes, this is just how it is. Sad but true. This is how society works. Live with it.

If this is true, well shit, why don’t I just give up on modelling now, crawl back into my hole, and forget about ever being a model? O.K. I’m realistic and I know I'm never going to be a glamour model. The harsh reality is that I am disabled, I am old (modelling wise), I am not beautiful, I definitely don’t conform to the stereotype. I am a middle aged mother, a modelling has-been. And do you know what? I think this makes me a more interesting photographic subject. I have met many girls who don’t conform to the stereotypical model. They are fat, or overly thin, or old, or young, saggy, disabled, facially disfigured, and yes, I used to have a friend who was a “dwarf” (oh how she hated that phrase) and she was as much a woman as your 18 year old babe. My (more correctly termed) “short-stature” friend was beautiful, physically as well as mentally, and she was a very sexual and erotic person. I’m damned sure that she would make a fantastic model.

We “unfortunates”, we “freaks”, are people too. And we can be good photographic subjects, as much as any “normal” surgically enhanced glamour model.

A good photographer will shoot everyone, not only shoot what is conventional or what society considers to be perfect. I have encountered several most excellent photographers who would gladly kill for the chance to photograph “the unfortunates”, and who would shoot them well, and be critically acclaimed for the art, make money, and who would empower their subjects as a result.

Read Bailey’s Democracy. And then tell me that “beauty trumps craft.”

It’s not all about the money. It’s about the photography and art. To all photographers, including amateurs, professionals and those in-between, I say to you:

Step outside the box. Shoot the unconventional models. Shoot ALL TYPES OF WOMEN.

Step outside your “groove”, your genre, photograph “REAL LIFE”. It might not fit with what the average man in the street wants, but guess what? It might make you a better photographer. And it’s a heck of a lot more likely to get you featured in The National Portrait Gallery. Plus it will leave you more satisfied with your art.

We DO live in a perfect world. One that values real beauty over illusion. If you believe otherwise, then you’re shooting for the wrong audience.



Syd, lookin’ fab!

P.S. Note to Jimmy: before you think I’m just just having a go at you, I’m most definitely not. This is an important and contentious issue, and all comments and discussions are very welcome!
I gave my dear friend Don a rather hard time about shootin' only young nekkid chix only a few weeks ago! And I would fully expect either of you to photograph me, and do a most excellent job too.

Rich BTW, is staying well out of this. He says he sees both sides! (Typical!)

Caution: Slobbery Wedding Post Alert!

“Sensual pleasure passes and vanishes in the twinkling of an eye, but the friendship between us, the mutual confidence, the delights of the heart, the enchantment of the soul, these things do not perish and can never be destroyed. I shall love you until I die.”
Voltaire

We’re off blog for a few days, going to the wedding of our oldest and dearest friend and his beautiful fiancée. You’ll know of them because they comment regularly on this blog. Gromit is a man of many talents, artist, musician, singer, psychologist, ecologist, designer, and most importantly, all-round amazing person and friend. Lady Tottington is his soul-mate - she’s one of the kindest people I know, and a passionate, caring and inspirational healer. If Voltaire’s wisdom reminds me of anyone, it reminds me of these two.

Congrats to you both!

Now, when are you both gonna come up here for a nude shoot?



Syd and A.J. looking mushy (but very sexy!)

"A photograph only has value if it is printed in a darkroom!”

This is a view held by many photographers.

I disagree. A photograph is worth more than the paper it is printed on!

If that’s not the case, then all art is seriously overvalued.

However, there are some photographic elitists who don’t seem to agree with me. They claim that only a photograph which is printed using the wet process in a darkroom has any real value, and those who do not use this process are not “real photographers.”

So if you are one of those photographers who judges other photographers based on whether or not they print in a darkroom, then may I suggest you look at your portfolio and ask yourself, “Is my best photograph only worth the small cost of the paper that it is printed on?”

Do you look at an image on a website and say “Those images are worthless because they are electronic?” or look at an Avedon print book and say “Those are worthless because they are printed using a printers press?” Do you look at an acrylic painting and say “This is worthless because it’s not in oil?”, or look at a pencil drawing and say “This is worthless because it’s not in paint?”

In the realm of the fine arts it would be unthinkable to criticise an artist or to claim that something was worthless because of their chosen medium. So it logically follows that an image should be valued on its extrinsic value and the response it generates in the viewer, rather than the paper it is printed on.

Now I can hear the shout that the value in a darkroom print is in the time and skill of the photographer that created the print in the darkroom. But if this were true then your worst ever print would have the same value as your best ever print, simply because you spent the same time on them. Also it would mean that anyone skilled in chemistry but terrible at photography should receive the same adoration as you.

Clearly, it’s the image that counts. We should all forget about photographic elitism because its just another round of Canon vs Nikon, SLR vs Medium format, and my lens is bigger than yours bravado.

I print digital images on an Epson Pro 4880. It’s an A2+ printer. My prints are bigger than yours,

Nah-Nah Nee-Nah-Nah!

This is Syd, looking to give some attitude to anyone who disagrees with me...

The Wife-Without-Camera

Because Richard does on average between sixty and seventy hours work every week, this generally means that I am the one who organises shoots, corresponds with models, sorts out travelling arrangement, fees (if any) and so forth. Actually, I really do enjoy this part of the photographic process. Chatting to other models is fun! Plus there is the added advantage that if I am the one who organises the bookings, because I am a woman and fellow model, this generally serves to reassure potential models that Rich is not some axe-murdering lunatic, nor that he is some perv who is solely interested in the cheap (or more usually, rather expensive) thrill of being alone with a naked woman.

I guess I see my role as a sort of photographic airline-stewardess in the background, dispensing occasional beverages, sandwiches and rather tasty home-made cake (I do good cake!), whilst being hopefully useful as an assistant if I’m needed. I’m not around for the actual shooting process for nude shoots (I’m sorry folks but it really is the most boring thing in the world to watch), so I tend to only be around for any fashion or wedding shoots, where I am needed to reposition clothes/hair and so forth.

Richard never hides the fact that Fluffytek is a partnership – we do this together. He is openly proud that we are a team, and insists I am around to say hello, drink tea and chat before the shoot. He says this helps put the model (and chaperone, if present) at ease, plus it makes the whole photographic process more fun!

The whole “shoot procedure” has become a well-oiled ritual nowadays, and models (and clients) have seemed to like this process and enjoyed/appreciated my occasional presence and low-profile assistance (and cake). At least I thought they did.

However, more recently there have been rumblings in the machine, and I no longer feel as certain about my role as I once did. Whereas it seems to be perfectly acceptable, reassuring and professional to have an assistant present during a shoot, this apparently does not extend to where the assistant is the photographer’s wife.

Whereas 95% of models are perfectly comfortable with wives being around, and suitably reassured for their own safety, some potential models seem to regard this as creepy, even somewhat “dodgy”. After talking to a couple of other photographers’ wives in similar situations (i.e. they are assistants and business partners), it seems that wives are increasingly being seen as “checking up” on the husband, making sure he doesn’t do anything untoward. Wives are (usually wrongly) being perceived as interfering jealous spouses, and it appears that some models feel awkward and nervous with the wife around, even if she’s in a completely separate building next door! Simply knowing the wives are there is enough to creep them out!

To some extent I can understand this. There have been several instances on MM and the UK web-models forums that describe a wife coming home in the middle of a shoot and throwing a jealous hippy fit. I have also heard some horrible stories on some model blogs which describe where the wife is clearly bisexual and is as much a WWC (Wife without camera) as her GWC husband (basically where husband and wife get their sexual kicks out of being in the same room as a nekkid chick). Of course these stories are really horrible and mercifully they don’t happen very often, but unfortunately these stories are giving the whole “wife as assistant” concept a really bad name. The minority are ruining it for the majority. A case of a few rare scare stories really spreading like wildfire and resulting in some models being apprehensive about booking photographers if their wives are around.

This means that some models actually prefer shoots where the wife doesn’t know about the husband’s photography, or at least if they do, that the wife isn't on the premises at the time of the shoot. We have experienced this rarely, but it has happened. It’s a kind of “pro-guy-with-camera” preference, a sort of bizarre twist of logic. GWC’s with secret agendas (who don’t tell their wives) actually make some models more comfortable than having to cope with possible internal psychological dynamics between H+W.

But, heck, this is supposed to be a semi-pro photography business! Assistants are supposed to be present. Why discriminate against the assistant where she is a wife? Should Richard now only introduce me as an assistant rather than his wife, and should I now leave my wedding ring at home? Should I stay clear altogether, and just go out when he has a shoot?

Sometimes I feel like a creep by association.

Let me state this plainly: I do not have a hidden agenda, I do not get cheap thrills from Rich shooting with models, plus I trust my partner! I enjoy a cuppa, a chat, feeling part of the photographic process. I love the whole process of making art. There’s no jealousy here folks! I’m a nude model too you know!

I’ve been in my day-job business with my husband for nearly fifteen years now, and I can honestly say we work pretty well together as a team. We are certainly well experienced at separating business from pleasure, and we are both trained professionals. O.K. I am a wife, yes, but I can’t help that. I see this as an asset which helps enhance the process of making art, rather than a liability which ruins it.

How can a wife be seen as a professional, rather than a jealous spouse?




Syd and A.J. from a shoot earlier this week. This was a really fun shoot with a gorgeous and talented husband and wife team. They were really good models! Both Rich and I love this image! Such chemistry! Rich says this is the shoot he’s most enjoyed so far this year. Thanks guys! More please!