Wednesday, August 17, 2011
The Stranger Within My Body
Later in the afternoon I don my comfortable wranglers, a t-shirt that does show off my arms and chest, boots, western belt and hat to head off to the interview. I meet my contact at the publishing house offices. I feel he is taken aback by the authentic honesty of my presence. Now I have created my own mystique. We review my images in his office and he likes what he sees, but he is also concerned buy such a variance in my style. He suggests that I pick one things and work on it. He is more drawn to the Caravaggioesqe images of tone and brilliance of color, but he is very frank that it does not really match their style. He gives me lots of positive feedback and constructive criticism, and then asking me if he is too harsh. I laugh and say hardly, this is why and I here, to learn something about myself and to grow from the experience. We talk about the trends of the market and tells me of their best selling photographer has positioned himself into advertising so he has access to what no one else does. Perfection of body, the most meticulous, and finest of men that are paid thousands of dollars by the hour to work with him. At the end as he walks me though the entire office of people huddled around their computers, magnificent images abundantly displayed. He asks that I keep in touch and they may be interested in publishing some of my images in one of the many anthologies of other artist they constantly produce. At the door we exchange a warm smile and I somehow feel satisfied that I have made the trip. Once on the street I make my way back to the hotel quite proud of what I have accomplished. I know this is not my market, I have something to offer that is much more profound and will find it. I love what I have become and am comfortable with the difference. I see myself in the reflection of the elevator mirrors from all sides and my form is good, clean, solid, I no longer see a middle aged man in the midst of a midlife crisis, but a reflection of my youthful vibrancy. I see the strength of my torso and power within my arms. I am quite startled by my own reflections. I now see those qualities I admire in others that I have been envious to possess for myself. It is quite a good look for me. I am proud of my heritage, it gives me strength and I suddenly realize that I am on the right path and that I have already become what I always wanted.
I meet Kubla again at the same pub for a drink. We had agreed to have dinner. He is startled by my presence as a cowboy. But tonight I must own the city as I am. We look for a restaurant to have dinner, now I hear the comfort of my cowboy boots as they click across the cobbles. He asks me what I want to achieve. “Fame?” I say “No, not really”. “Recognition then?” I say “No I already have that amongst others I adore.” Then I ponder for a moment and reply, “Just the ability to be able to express myself and be comfortable, to be true to who I am.” I drew back in a moment of wonder as I realized I have just taken Marklin’s advice and have indeed French kissed the very presence of my existence.
VIEW FULL IMAGE: Chad #416