Trash the Maternity Dress

First of all, this photo is not one of mine. I wish it was, because it's awesome.

(None of the photos used in this post are mine - they're ones I easily found on-line with simple Google searches.)

Now that I'm doing a little bit of photography on the side, I've kept my eyes open and my ear to the ground for hot trends and popular poses, because you just never know when some girl is going to call up and say, "I want to totally ruin my prom dress by wading out into the middle of a creek. Can you come take the pictures?"

Seriously. It happens and has an official name and everything - a "Trash the Dress Session". Several of my photographer friends actually include this on their price lists as an additional option for both bridal and prom photo shoots, and get paid an additional $250 to $1000 to chronicle the destruction of a fancy-ass dress by water and ripping once the big day has passed.

We've all seen the sappy romance novel covers and fashion magazine photos where a beautiful, sopping wet woman is standing barefoot on a beach in full and perfect make-up wearing a wet gown that looks like it has been hung in a boat propeller - sometimes with a man, sometimes alone...

I had no idea that this had become the latest craze in special event photography.  Apparently The Little Mermaid was a more impactful movie than I ever imagined...

After all the time, effort and money spent on the average formal these days, be it wedding dress OR prom dress, I have a hard time believing that many parents are totally on-board with the whole deal, but a simple Google search for "trash the dress" nets enough images to indicate that this is more than a passing fad, so I'm prepared for whatever request I might get as a photographer, which brings me back around to the hilarious photo at the top of this blog post - maternity portraits.

The first maternity portrait I ever remember seeing was the famous August 1991 Vanity Fair cover of Demi Moore shot by the incomparable Annie Leibovitz. I found it beautiful and still do. The very pregnant Demi was nude but not "showing anything"; modestly illuminated against a plain background with simple yet exquisite jewelry and styling. It was a big deal, because nobody had ever seen anything like it before. The photograph and its prominent placement on the cover of VF was groundbreaking in its approach to the pregnant female body. Demi did not look tired or swollen or  even slightly nauseated. She looked gorgeous and perfect, but she's a movie star and looking gorgeous and perfect is kind of her job.

After that it seems the floodgates opened and every "Fertile Myrtle" to go (+) on a pregnancy test suddenly felt empowered to strip down to her birthday suit for portraiture.

And it really seems that the whole family can kind of get into it...

I know and appreciate and respect that every body is beautiful in its own way, and however any of those bodies wants to get his or her picture made is cool with me. I love that women are finding the Demi within themselves, and I'm happy that photographers are making money and practicing their art with these photographs. I sometimes scream "TOO MUCH!!" at my computer screen when someone's maternity shots hit my facebook newsfeed, but that's OK. I'm adaptable.

When I found out Sis was pregnant, I offered to do a maternity shoot for her, but she politely declined.

Maybe once the baby is born she and I can slip off to the creek to trash a maternity dress. It will be Spring by then. And I'll take pictures.

Jack's Birthday 2012

Happy belated birthday to Jack, who flipped over to 51 miles on the odometer yesterday, and thanks to everyone who helped make his special day ever more special. 

He had a fun day in the city yesterday, kept company by our friend Claudia who knows where all the good food is and prowled him through butcher shops and cucinas until it was time for him to pick me up and move on to the evening celebration.

Claudia joined Jack and I at Peter's Thai and Sushi in Brentwood where we met up with Mom, Dad and The V3+ for a delicious dinner, fun conversation and an all-around wonderful time. Peter's is your normal, brightly-lit "Asian joint in a shopping center", but the food and service are A+, which is evident by the crowds of people who eat there, including one of the local news personalities, who was dining there with her family when we arrived last evening.

Shelli Williams, whose confections I've blogged about before, made Jack's cake, a wonderfully decadent three-layer chocolate thing that was topped with fresh strawberries, "shards" of dark chocolate and a drizzle of chocolate ganache and rum. Claudia led the "Happy Birthday" song with everyone in the restaurant singing along as Mom and I unboxed the cake. When we started cutting pieces of cake and passing them around the table, we were the envy of the rest of the patrons.

Lucia enjoyed the cake every bit as much as the birthday boy, singing its praises. Literally singing. Initially she was a little disappointed that the cake didn't have Olivia the Pig on top, but once she tasted it, she totally stopped caring whether it was an Olivia cake or not.

There are photos, and as soon as any of them are ready to share, I'll post them here on the blog...

Saturday Evening Post

Carlton feels a bunch-a-bunch better now than he did this time last Saturday night, and thanks everyone who sent e-mails or called to ask about him this week. Jack and I love Carton and the rest of our pet posse no matter how hateful or manipulative or whiny or divisive they might be, and we appreciate that our friends and family recognize how much.

After a what seemed like an eternity of cloudy weather, culminating in a mere dusting of snow on Thursday night, we finally saw sunshine today, so both Jack and I got out with the cameras to find the beauty which can be discovered on a mid-January day.

Other a decent shot or two of Moose, I came up pretty empty, but Jack. Wow.

Jack took his camera to town when he went for groceries and came home with two striking photos of luncheoning birds.

This photo of a cardinal dining stream-side is one of the prettiest things I've ever seen.

And this photo of a kestrel with a fresh caught mouse is amazing. Jack said he turned around to go get this one after seeing the bird on the line with his prey.

Back to football, y'all...

Carlton: A Lover and a Fighter

Carlton has had a bad week.

As many of you already know, Carlton is our yellow cat and he's the badass in the cat part of the family. He started out as a feral neighborhood cat and was so afraid of people that he scattered whenever we made eye contact with him. Then the weather got cold, and there was a bowl of cat food on our porch. He started coming closer and being a bit more social, though he still didn't want to be touched. Or come in the house.

On Valentine's Day 2003 I came home from work to a dark house. Jack had told me he was rolling over to Chattanooga for wine and good food from The Fresh Market there, so I was expecting him to be not home. The cat carrier in the middle of the room was a surprise. It was covered with a blanket, and when I peeked underneath, there was that damn, stray yellow cat. Wet. Bloody. Ugly. I dropped the blanket and waited for Jack to get home.

By Jack's report, that damn, stray yellow cat had knocked on the door sometime in the morning. Rain was pouring that day. The cat showed up wet to the skin and beaten to a bloody pulp. Jack retrieved the cat carrier from the basement, lined it with a dry towel and resolved to explain the whole "I'm giving you a feral cat for Valentine's Day" thing later.

Three days later we'd spent two hundred dollars on having this cat's wounds cleaned and shots given and testicles removed. His name became Carlton, and he began sleeping on our bed, eating healthy food and becoming part of the family.

Domestication aside, he's always stayed true to his wild self, spending time outside and hunting and finding sparring partners whenever there's an opportunity.

This week has presented opportunity.

Jack noticed a knot on Carlton's side last weekend which ended up being an abscess. It ruptured Tuesday and by Wednesday looked like it needed a trip to the vet. He must have figured out what Jack and I were planning by the presence of the cat carrier on the front porch, because he took off and didn't come home until the wee hours of Friday morning.

I'd spent the night at the Baby House on Thursday night to be ready for an early meeting at work on Friday morning and didn't learn of Carlton's return until after the meeting was over and I called home to check on him.

Jack said he looked rough, but I didn't realize how rough until I got home Friday afternoon. Scabs, scratches, a messed up ear, limping, pitiful. I don't know what he tangled with or how that critter looked when the fight was over, but as our vet pronounced yesterday morning with the anesthetized Carlton sprawled out in front of him, wounds freshly shaved and scrubbed, "He wasn't the winner.

"Isn't he fixed?" the vet tech the vet tech asked, flipping through his extensive medical record as he scowled at the world from inside the cat carrier.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean anything," I explained, describing how Carlton still tries to establish territory and gets pissed off when he checks for his scent and finds that his tail-twitching has been ineffective. "He's in absolute denial."

He will be fine. He is going to feel bad for several days, and if the last twenty-four hours are any indication, he's going to spend a lot of time curled up on a pillow in the darkness under our bed. Earlier he limped out to be loved on, and Jack minced some leftover chicken for him, which he pretty much devoured. He's back under the bed, and we don't expect to see him again until we start tucking ourselves in this evening.

Jack and I both love him, but this experience serves him right for getting into a fight.

Oh, and I didn't even mention that he got a piece of my face with one of his nasty claws as Jack and I were loading cramming him into the cat carrier. My God, what an scene that must have been. I thought we were going to have to get out the wooden spoons to knock him into it. We were trying to be as gentle as possible in crating him to keep from causing additional pain, but he would have none of it.

Quick as a flash he smacked me. I have a tiny place under my nose, but I swear the little sucker was aiming for my eyes. HA!

Lesson learned and words of wisdom for the coming week: Cats are not cattle - you cannot load them head-first.

Today was a beautiful day, and if the sunny weather is any indication of what 2012 has in store for us, we have nothing to worry about. Yes, there was something of a chilly wind blowing around to remind us that we're into January, but Jack and I were able to get out and walk around with our cameras wearing short pants and fleecy jackets. Very nice.

Jack had his big lens on and was on the prowl for whatever birds got into shooting range. This is a great time of year to photograph birds with very little foliage to have to work around, but our birds are shy and fast and do not seem to appreciate being photographed. 

I still managed to snap a few nice bird shots - 

This Common Sparrow did sit still long enough to pose for a shot.

And the Tufted Titmouse sang overhead...

The half-moon is lovely in the sky.

This plane was headed south in a hurry. With colder weather coming this week, I don't blame anyone who wants to migrate in warmer climates.

Wishing you peace, love, understanding and wisdom in the coming year.