My name is Trixie (aka TastyTrixie). The Wandering WebWhore is my personal blog. I'm a 30-something indie pornographer whose journal covers a variety of topics: mundane daily life, work-related reflection, sex stuff, current events, and more.
I must've had my head up my ass when I worried that reserving a cabin for three nights was too LONG for a porn-shooting trip without running water or electricity or phones or internet of any kind. More like NOT LONG ENOUGH.
Being in the woods on the Olympic Peninsula, the proper WET woods southwest of us (unlike what we have here in the dry rainshadow), always feels like heaven to me. I'm not exaggerating: HEAVEN. Like what it would/should look and feel like if there were to be that kind of a fantasy afterlife (except I wouldn't have to be scared of having my scalp ripped off by a cougar in heaven, but I digress).
Anyway, it was great. FANTASTIC, the level of peace and tranquility I felt there. The lack of pressure and the way everything worked out just right. The way we had so much beautiful SPACE to sprawl out and shoot in with very little chance of intrusion. The way the weather couldn't have been more perfect. The way we walked for miles.
And when we got home? I pretty much instantly fell apart into a nervous wreck.
It's not that I think running off and living a "simple" life is the Answer to All My Problems or something I want on a daily basis (I don't), but experiencing it for a few days did highlight some of the things that I desperately need to fix in real life (like not having so MANY options and obligations every second of every day).
It's a small fix, but we're going to get rid of DirecTV completely and of course just keep plugging away on the usual stuff with a better reminder of what we could have if we got ahead, just a little bit: the freedom to fall behind and drop out more often . . . AND make better porn because of it. It's amazing how doing so much of my job every fucking day gets in the way of DOING MY JOB RIGHT.
Also, I have serious problems being distracted by every day life and PEOPLE and the noises they make and our computers and all of our shit, though, so coming home was like putting my head in a blender after all of that peace and quiet and fresh air. I know it sucks for voyeurs who want to watch a blissed-out horny woman rolling around in ecstasy or at least looking fresh and cute and bisected by cleavage but instead get me, frowning and muttering under my breath about how I'm going to shoot myself in the head if trivial problems and distractions interrupt my flow just one more fucking time. I am so sorry that has been the story of my lifecams for far too long.
Anyway, I would manually scratch all the skin off my left arm using the fingernails of my right if it would mean I could spend a third of my life in a cabin in the woods, peeing outside and eating pickled sausage on the back porch. Unfortunately I'll have to go about things the hard way: plodding forward, tiny steps at a time.
FYI: I'll try to post more about the magic of our little cabin experience. Also, I'm posting the rest of these pictures of me by the river on Monday for members. Delia is posting a set as I type this: see SAMPLE HERE - it is SO FUCKING AWESOME to be able to get almost any angle you want from whatever distance you want unconstrained by four walls.
Here are a few samples from the first set of pictures we shot together using our new camera remote:
A test shot to check the light; I like how you can see some of our camera stuff, including the remote not yet hooked up in this one:
One of my favorite shots that made the whole awkwardness of jumping up and down off Delia's face to adjust the camera on the tripod, etc. worth every minute of it even though I had to crop this picture to make it look like this:
Today I'm editing the video we shot after the pictures which is rife with our squeaky bed squeaking and awkward-sounding silences which I hope to smooth out if I can find the right free music to do so, though probably I'll just waste a bunch of time listening to stuff and deciding against it completely at the end. It's hard for me to do a bunch of dirty talking when my head is working so hard at trying to visualize the images we're capturing and enjoy the sensations I'm feeling. It makes me feel shy, voyeuristic and nonverbal most of the time. After so many years of doing this stuff you'd think ALL of it would come really naturally to me, but it usually doesn't. Also, we really haven't shot mass quantities of video together (mostly we have shot each other solo) so it's still an amateurish learning experience every time. But a fun one, as this other favorite picture of mine indicates:
We *finally* got a remote control to take pictures of ourselves together. Here are a couple of our first silly attempts, just testing it out:
Trixie is "The Other Sister"
The Pervy Ogre
Last night we shot a "real" (in other words, pornographic) set together taken in vivid color, wearing stockings and corsets. It was challenging and extremely time consuming, but worth the effort and expense of the remote even for poorly composed photos (in fact, some of the ones with pieces of us unintentionally chopped out were the best; it feels more voyeuristic and amateur, I think). We should have done this a long time ago. Anyway, today I'll work on editing that gallery and maybe the video, too.
We went to Seattle but my sister didn't go into labor so we came home again. It was great to see them though, especially my number one nephew, Mr. Squishypants who's almost three now. We all went to the Japanese Garden at the Arboretum, a place I've always wanted to revisit ever since an annoying trip we took there when I was a teenager. I wanted to return and have everything be tranquil. IT WAS!!
One of the things I miss most about living in Tacoma is walking to the Conservatory and just sitting in there soaking in good, moist air and beauty. If we lived in Seattle I would probably hang out at the Japanese Garden for hours and hours every week. It's fucking therapy, man. It kind of boggles my mind that there are beautiful places -- gardens like these or woods like the Hoh rainforest (yes, I should totally do a WebHOH shoot) -- and people don't go, LET'S KEEP/MAKE EVERYTHING THIS LEVEL OF AWESOMELY BEAUTIFUL!!. And I'm not saying everything has to be totally pristine and "natural" to be beautifully awesome; we were impressed by Harborside Park at the Bremerton ferry terminal next to the shipyards (also beautiful, to me).
If I were to cultivate my own garden, it would be a moss and fern garden. I love how primitive they are. They totally feel like home to me.
After taking a bunch of pictures at the garden and looking at them here at home, I realized I'm doing a terrible job of paying attention to my horizon line or just making sure the subject of my photos aren't accidentally slightly slanted; most of my pictures look a little crooked. I don't know if other people would notice it, especially when there's so much stuff in the pictures, but taking non-porn pictures is always a good (and relaxing) learning experience. I wonder if it's because I'm still not used to our bigger, heavier camera? Using the viewfinder? I don't know, but I'm going to try to pay better attention to that.
We lost power at our house for a couple of seconds today because of the wind; it almost seems freakier when the sun's out and it's blowing than if the skies were dark and ominous. Blue skies + windstorms = the pink goth of weather.
Though we live northwest of/near Seattle, the weather is totally different here with a lot less rain. We're lucky to have big windows facing south so in January and February we can sunbathe naked. Inside, unless you have fur:
I took these pictures in our backyard after going to the store where the power was out. According to the locals I heard talking, part of town was out of electricity because a transformer blew, a tree fell/knocked down lines, AND someone crashed a car into a pole. Our wind is a force to be reckoned with!
Next month we're planning to spend some time shooting closer to my hometown, in the area where (some of) Twin Peaks was filmed. I really wanted to commission someone to sew a waitress costume to mimic the ones they wore at the diner in the series, but I messed up the specs on the auction I created and didn't want to pay for something four months in advance of a time that would be too late for the look/time of year I wanted. Maybe next year. For now we'll try to capture a little of the vibe/local color without being crazily ambitious. Someday I would love to have the resources to get a bunch of our friends and fellow-Peaks-fans together for a couple of weeks to shoot some tribute porn. Someday.
I started taking piano lessons when I was about nine years old. My teacher, Joan, didn't believe in using metronomes and always had long, fancy nails even though pianists aren't supposed to. At some point during the first year of lessons, she told me that music is really all about MATH.
No math = no music. A huge revelation for me as a kid. It's a big truth that's never left me. At first my feelings about it were a little conflicted; it was sort of stressful ("I'm so bad at fractions!"), but realizing that math is the foundation of music (or at least one doorway into building and understanding it) never sucked the romance or beauty out of it. It never made it dry to me. It can be invisible enough that you don't actually NEED to know it or think about it for it to be in there. That lesson primed me to notice as years went by that math and science are built into nature and art and our insides. That the basics of them are intuitive, like rhythm, but the more you know about the math and science of something, the better your music or art or appreciation of those things can be.
Knowing that art is really science has been a solace to me -- art isn't reserved only for a few people who are divinely inspired. It can be orderly: accessed and created systematically. With simple formulas. With a wide variety of tools mixed with individual perspective, personality and tastes to make it seem unique and magical, disguising the numbers in the craft of it.
I shot a set of pictures of Delia wearing some hot Hello Kitty shorts on Friday night and the photos are all jacked up. I'm a long way from understanding the science of photography; I *like* numbers, but they don't stick in my head very well so even though I've read about how cameras work and how OUR camera works I still don't have it committed to memory or know how to manipulate light and settings quickly to achieve what I want. I have to just walk around and fiddle with things until I mostly-accidentally happen onto something lovely. Most of the good pictures I take are the product of luck and shooting A LOT without fully comprehending what I'm doing. I recognize what looks good and beautiful and erotic to me (or at least halfway decent) and what looks bad to me and have a few basic practices for making the former (especially in the "halfway decent" category) and avoiding the latter, but my technical skills are pretty basic.
All of the pics looked dark to me so I bumped the ISO up to 1000 or 2500, I forget now (hence the graininess) and the speed down to 25 or 30 -- they still looked dark for some reason; I was letting the camera auto-focus (selecting the area to focus on myself with these little movable box thingies; I forget what Nikon calls that function but it didn't seem to be working well on this particular night) and adjust the aperture itself until I decided to do a closeup and switched everything to manual (because it balks when we ask it to autofocus macros); suddenly everything was WAY TOO BRIGHT and I had to change the shutter speed. The only thing I can think of is that the camera wasn't doing a good job of automatically adjusting the aperture and when I switched to manual and adjusted it myself then everything changed. It sucked because we wanted these pics to be bright.
The older I get, the more I see that MOST working artists -- writers, photographers, graphic designers, sculptors, painters, musicians, etc. -- are just people who've chosen to do that kind of work. That the only thing that sets them apart from the rest of us is the amount of time they put into their art and confidence they have in devoting themselves to it without worrying whether or not a jury of peers think they deserve to make money on it. Very few artists are people who actually possess something innate that the rest of us don't have; most of it is taking the time to learn and apply information that's available to everyone (or anyone with the resources to do a little research) and then investing money in the right tools and lots of time in practicing. Sometimes I think the most successful artists are the ones who are actually LESS gifted and too stupid/overconfident to recognize that there are other people (usually making zero dollars on their art) who are WAY more talented. Maybe the only way to be a successful "artist" is to NOT be great -- to not complicate shit with too much vision, originality, or diverse techniques and just work from simple formulas to make things that are easily recognizable and accessible to the masses. See also Adaptation. If your work brings other people pleasure does it really NEED to be super duper excellent?
The older I get, the happier I am with shooting for mediocrity. Even mediocrity requires a lot of hard work (for me, at least). Mediocrity is attainable without being a given; you can stand out and make a decent living in a field simply by being one of the relative few to 1) choose that field, 2) commit to it for a number of years, and 3) make yourself known. All the better if you're willing to take emotional and financial risks and make sacrifices for your work/"art". The happier you are with mediocrity the wider your success. I've slowly shifted my focus of "pride" away from "talent" and pinned it on "work"; you can't be proud of having good taste or being born with certain attributes making you better suited than most to doing one job or another. Those are only things you can be THANKFUL for. The things you can actually be PROUD of are hard work, dedication and defying convention to choose happiness. To call yourself an artist as soon as you choose to be one -- to make it your job -- rather than waiting until you imagine other people think you are good enough to deserve that label. Those are the people I admire more and more, the ones who are brave & devoted enough to create some form of art (even if it's just fair to middlin') and are savvy enough to make it a business.
I used to think having to work hard at something or take a lot of time to make something acceptable was something to be ashamed and embarrassed of. If it wasn't easy it meant I wasn't good at it. Now I realize that's total bullshit (even if I still FEEL that way sometimes). The strategic choices and commitments you make to invest work in things that make you happy, better, more skilled, or even just capable of seeing you should make a different choice (I've always believed that quitting is something to be proud of; that whole "quitters never win" line is such a crock of shit). The time you spend allowing yourself to suck ass -- IMMERSING yourself in sucking ass and slowly filling in the void of your ignorance with knowledge -- just so you can become mediocre at something you love and then keep working to try to improve upon that. Beyond mediocrity there are so few people who are actually able to recognize the difference between mediocrity and greatness, there's no reason to beat yourself up if you're not capable of becoming that elite.
Being a "jack of all trades, master of none" ROCKS. It's fun, it's challenging, and I don't love any one thing enough to give up all the other stuff. So I really have to be satisfied with mediocrity, slow progress, and making balanced choices to devoting little bits of time here and there to different things I love. Like making flash cards to learn photography stuff. You're never too old for flash cards. I'm not, anyway.
I am mediocre at so many things, and have managed to balance (with great mediocrity) such a gigantic shitload of different kinds of work that I deserve to be quite proud of myself and my extraordinary mediocrity. I feel so blessed to be in a position to dabble so widely. Lucky lucky lucky, and proud of myself for creating a notable percentage that luck by my choices. For recognizing my luck and exploiting it to the best of my limited ability.
Some of us are able to do our work just because we're lucky enough to have the resources to buy tools, to live in an environment filled with inspiration and/or to be close to people who make beautiful subjects and do most of the art/work for you.
I love arranging forkfuls of food. Ones where I have the perfect ratio of one thing to the other(s). Mashed potatoes to gravy to meat. Raisins to flakes. Heavens to Betsy. It doesn't have to be fancy, the formula just has to be right. Everything pleasingly arranged in relation to each other. I will never be a good cook because I don't want to practice how to be; that's Delia's thing. It's my job just to love eating, every day, tasting and swallowing over and over and saying thank you, honey.. And to figure out how to arrange camera settings like food on a fork, adjusting hole-sizes, timing mechanisms, and digitally tweaking things in perfect relation to the kind of light shining on my girlfriend.
Tonight's ending on a very positive note that could even be viewed as a metaphor for other things going on in our lives; we finally installed a second hard drive for storage on my main work machine so I'm moving big files off my weighted-down C drive. It feels like a fresh start! Right now I'm filling up some of that space by transferring non-work photos over to this machine so I can enjoy playing with shots we've taken for fun/to learn about our camera.
November 20th: a buck Delia spotted in our neighbor's backyard:
Our "new" camera (Nikon D300) has been therapeutic for me, making me stop and take time out to really LOOK and lose myself in details outside of myself. I'm not the kind of person who tries to capture EVERYTHING with a camera -- I definitely appreciate being in the moment with family, friends and on vacation -- but when we're at home (which is the same as being at work unless we make a really concerted effort for it not to be) doing the daily grind it's a big challenge for me to get out of my head. But now, when something mundane and beautiful captures my attention I feel justified in grabbing the camera, ostensibly to learn to take better photographs, and spending 5-20 minutes to really SEE and try to understand what I'm seeing: the light, the textures, the motion . . . challenging myself over what's real and not real because it can look so different viewed with my eyes compared to how it's captured by the camera. Immersing myself in all those different versions of truth and light and darkness and the stories we instantly create and details we insert after pulling them out of our asses when we think we're looking at our surroundings.
Looking out our window a few hours ago:
We actually bought three 500 GB hard drives months ago for three different machines and up until today, had only installed ONE of them because of little nuisances like not having Dell's annoying little drive "caddies", not having serial ATA cables with the 90 to 180 degree corner jobbies so the case will close properly, me despising crawling around on the floor fucking with all the cables and cords tangled around dust bunnies, etc. If you heard me screaming last night it was when I bashed my elbow into the corner of my desk during that process. Anyway, we finally took care of it and I ordered everything we need to install a couple more on other machines.
The past couple of days I had the alarm set for 8:30 in the morning to try to get us back into a groove of semi-normalcy; at least I *thought* I set the alarm for 8:30. Turns out I forgot to adjust the ipod when the time changed so we were actually being woken up at 7:30 which just didn't feel right. We'll try again tomorrow. Maybe I'll even start my day by going outside with the camera.
*Last night I enjoyed a conversation with my wanker in which I wasted lots of time raving about this Teddy Thompson fellow and a performance we saw on Later with Jools Holland. Here it is, and it slays me:
I've only downloaded one of his songs (a cover of "She Thinks I Still Care", one of my all-time faves) because there's no way I can narrow it down so I'm trying to hold out to be able to buy some of his albums, though I will probably download his cover of Leonard Cohen's "Tonight Will Be Fine":
Over the weekend we were blessed by a visit from AmberLily and her husband. It was a working visit, meaning we weren't getting together *just* to socialize, but mainly to shoot a bunch of pics for her site. Delia and I looked forward to doing this knowing it would feel totally awesome to get a lot of work done without actually having to be in front of the camera ourselves the way we are when we shoot each other. Instead we got to totally devote ourselves to behind-the-camera work which is really so much easier with two people not just to actually TAKE the pictures, but to set up lights, move/clean stuff, etc. It was a good experiment to find out how productive we can be when a bunch of roles/tasks are subtracted from our routine.
I don't want to ruin the surprise of her cute outfits too much for her members, so here are some samples that won't reveal all of her sexy and whimsical ensembles:
I totally hogged the camera the whole time which was fun for ME, but by the end of the night a lot of the pics I snapped were totally fucked: poorly framed, blurry, etc. It's very physical work, both modeling for pictures and taking them; my "muscles" were totally sore the next day, but that didn't stop me from TRYING to get BigD to pose for me.
I *achingly yearn* for more resources (aka money) to be able to shoot with friends in nicer places for longer periods of time without such a limited schedule and the same boring house we've been living in for years. It boggles my mind to think of how much hot porno we could make if we weren't bound by, you know, huge debt and stuff. Until that day comes, however, we're doing a pretty good job with the time and other resources we DO have. If we could do all that we did in five hours, I wonder what we could do with a week or two in more inspiring and spacious locations? You can scoff at the necessity of those things when it comes to porn, but if you do then you've no idea how hard it is to frame thousands of photos to look reasonably special/different so that you don't include a mess, carpet stain, wires, light stands, and other distracting crap that your subject (and her hot HOT pussy) is squeezed between.
Here's a little insight into part of our work for those of you interested in how we get our photos from the camera to our porn site members and blogs:
Every time I post a tweet letting members/voyeurs know they're watching me at the computer "editing pics", I wonder if people are thinking, "what does that entail, anyway?" So here's the process (Delia does hers a little differently than I do, so I'm just saying what I do):
1) We transfer the image files from our camera to a computer where we store all of our full size, unedited image files. We use a usb cable rather than removing the card every time and using a card reader, which seems to be the more popular way that most people do it. Not us, though. I've always used the cable because a) it came with our cameras, but card readers did not, and b) I prefer to avoid handling our memory cards that often; I think it's better not to touch them and expose them to dust, etc. so the only time we remove our memory cards is if we're shooting away from home, fill up a card, and need to put in a new card to take pictures. Estimated time: 5-30 minutes depending on how many pics we took (usually 75-200 per set, and we often shoot multiple sets on one card); it definitely takes longer with our new camera since each pic is 4288x2848 pixels and around five to nine megabytes.
2) At this point we often take a look through the pictures to assess how we did and talk about why the look good or don't. You'll see us doing this with our heads tilting back and forth since pics we took as portraits are laying on their sides in landscape. Estimated time: varies between 2 and 30 minutes
3) We make COPIES of the original files and put them on our working machines. Estimated time: virtually none as long as we aren't having annoying network problems
4) I go through the photos and delete duplicates, ugly pics, pics with bad lighting, etc. Because our sites are homemade with an amateur appeal, I leave in a lot of "bad" pics because even the blurry ones and ones I think are unflattering usually have some redeeming quality (ex. my face looks bad, but my butt looks great, or the light is not technically excellent and the picture's not print-ready, but it still evokes a mood and helps tie the images together so there's some movement from one image to the next). Sometimes I do leave in poses that are nearly identical; the standards for porn sites are very different from artistic photography sites because we aren't trying to exhibit our very best PHOTOGRAPHY, we're trying to give people pictures to arouse them AND meet the quantity expectations porn review sites look for.
Very subtle differences in two like photos can make one jack-worthy to one person while the other is not. Let's say there's an image where I have an enticing expression on my face, but my feet are cut out of the frame. Then there's another nearly identical picture where I my double chin is highlighted, but my feet are all there and looking great. One guy who loves feet will be happy I included the ugly-face, feet-included pic, while another who doesn't care about feet will only be interested in my come-hither look in the other photo. That's why I leave in a lot of less-than-perfect and repetitious images. Still, I sometimes take a lot of time deciding whether or not to keep or toss pictures. Estimated time: 5-20 minutes
5) I open three photos at a time in Photoshop. I use a hotkey I've set up to rotate the image (if necessary) and another hotkey to resize the photo to my specifications. I look at each image more closely than before, adjusting levels to brighten them up if necessary, add more contrast, and adjust the color balance as needed; because we don't use a flash or tons of lights and we often rely on natural light or a combination, there's often a lot of variation in our photos even when we've taken all of them in one location. We might move in and out of different colors and levels of light so it does NOT work to apply a process on a whole batch of photos, I have to look at and edit each image individually.
I also use the bandaid tool to cover up zits or ingrown hairs sometimes. Sometimes I crop and size pictures more creatively if I need more close-ups or really need to get rid of some distraction in the picture to salvage something good about it. Very rarely I will apply filters (soft blur, etc.) to images or just fuck around seeing what those look like without committing to them. We *do not* change color photos into black and white using Photoshop, Well, hardly ever. Almost all of the black and white pictures on our sites were SHOT in black and white.
6) I save each picture WITHOUT optimizing them (making the file size smaller for web suitability) because I want to keep a copies of high quality edited versions of each photo since one picture might be used in a number of places in a number of ways. Sometimes I save duplicates of images I especially like in a "promo" folder at a different size with a border added that I use for posting in our blogs. I have a promo folder inside each edited gallery folder. Estimated time for steps five and six: 30-120 minutes
7) I go through the pictures again to see if there are more I want to delete.
8) Sometimes I rename files so that they will be presented in an order that makes better sense (move pictures we took in the middle to the beginning, etc.). Estimated time for steps seven and eight: 0-10 minutes
After all of that, I build the gallery which is another process entirely.
ESTIMATED TOTAL TIME SPENT ON THIS PROCESS FOR EACH GALLERY: 45 minutes to three and a half hours
I enjoy this process quite a bit (especially if I look halfway decent in the pictures) and appreciate taking the time to really SEE what were making. It's pleasurable, meditative, hot and it makes me feel productive. I also think it's important we do this work (and do it ourselves) because it teaches us what does and doesn't work with posing, lighting, camera settings, framing, etc.
Want to know more behind-the-scenes info regarding our pics? Check out this entry on how much one shoot cost: ARE OUR SHOOTS WORTH IT?
Our stay in the Victorian bed & breakfast (they call it a hotel so you'll know they don't serve breakfast, but for your visualization purposes imagine more of a B&B than a hotel) was productive, but we didn't manage to completely avoid being "caught" doing our sneaky porno shooting. But first, there was an earthquake!
While I was sitting on the floor against an outside wall shooting Delia on the bed, it felt like a truck drove into the house and made us sway back and forth on the second floor a few times. It excited us but we weren't sure whether or not it was an earthquake, mostly because we'd just had a conversation the day before about how often we wake up in the middle of the night and IMAGINE there's an earthquake. It was just too much of a coincidence, having discussed our earthquake paranoia so recently. Plus, it didn't feel like most little earthquakes in Washington which are usually like rumbling underground tummies. Instead it was like a 3 second excerpt of the middle of the big earthquake we had a few years back with swinging, swaying, flexy building movement. I considered going downstairs to find out who else felt it, but we kept shooting instead. Maybe it felt unusual we because we were only three miles from the epicenter. Anyway, I know it's "nothing" compared to what Californians frequently experience, but for us it definitely is something else. Little ones are always a reminder of how vulnerable we are up here in the subduction zone to having a really devastating earthquake, or even just another like last time which was pretty fucking exciting and freaky (it made me positively GIDDY!). We also live in a town with buttloads of fresh tsunami warning signs, so we do have frequent reminders to be scared shitless of earthquakes.
The next morning when housekeeping knocked while we were sleeping I loudly dismissed her, firmly informing her "WE DON'T NEED ANYTHING". Later that afternoon while Delia was at home checking on the dog and I was out at the grocery store picking up snacks, the "innkeeper" must have decided to do some housekeeping himself; I came back to our room only to discover our door wide open and our bed made. The fellow hurried down the hall toward me and noticed the look of consternation on my face, explaining, "I was just emptying your wastebasket; I think everything is all right."
The way he said "I THINK everything is all right" sounded to me like he noticed our light stands, colorful cheap corsetry & lingerie scattered around, the way I'd moved an obnoxious framed snapshot from one dresser to another, and the conspicuously absent "checkout time is at 11 am blah blah blah" printout that had been taped up on the particularly photogenic doors. He was saying, "I needed to investigate your activities and have noticed many things are suspiciously askew, but I guess since you haven't pulled the chandelier out of the ceiling I'll let it slide."
I was pissed.
The only consolation was seeing Delia's cum-streaked black stockings on top of the bed; he'd moved them to make the bed, then put them back on top of the covers where I'd left them. If someone wants to go poking around in our stuff they deserve to encounter some unexpected bodily fluids; normally I would pick up/put away stuff like that if I'd indicated we needed maid service, but I had no reason to think someone would be inserting himself into our room and fondling our underwear.
None of this would be such a big deal if we didn't live in such a small town where word can spread like wildfire amongst the "innkeepers" or if we didn't want to have the option of returning to certain places to shoot again. I don't actually blame people for being concerned that someone's up to no good in their homes/mansions/hotels, it's just not very convenient for us. I would like to be up-front and honest about what we're doing, but it's just not an option; I only know one person who tells vacation rental owners what she's doing when she goes to shoot, and her stuff is more politically correct than what we do. Everyone else we know shoots overtly pornographic stuff, and none of them inform people what they're doing when they rent places or pop into hotels to shoot. People who genuinely aim to shoot "fine art nudes" (or at least exude the pretension of artistry) probably have an easier time of it, in part because it seems quieter and less scandalous AND because people don't assume artists are rich enough to pay extra for locations whereas everyone assumes pornographers are rich because SEX SELLS, not art. I'm not just worried about being blacklisted, I'm worried about people charging us more to shoot in their places.
Apparently there are often regulations, local ordinances, etc. and fine print stipulations in rental agreements forbidding doing commercial shooting without permits and/or permission; I think most of it is written with film in mind, but it's something few people realize, but could become more and more (or less, maybe) of a visible legal issue with so many people making photo and video content that then appears online. I don't know all of the ins and outs about it and would like to think when the "innkeeper" invited us to wander around and take pictures, his words could be taken at face value, but honestly I would prefer not to broach the issue at all. I'm sure everything's fine, but it does worry me a little. On the other hand, I feel very much that HE did something wrong by going into our room after I'd said, rather clearly I thought, we didn't want any housekeeping. I feel that if someone discovers we're moving furniture around or doing slightly kinky things with cameras BECAUSE THEY INTRUDED ON US (and fail to have "do not disturb" signs the way most places called "hotels" do) rather than because we broke something or made a bunch of noise, then they are more in the wrong.
I know some of you are reading this thinking I'm being totally paranoid, but I'm going to bet you either a) live in a city, and/or b) are more resourceful than I and/or have more resources at your disposal so you aren't worried about finding alternatives, and/or c) your job is not the same as mine.
In spite of the intrusion (and maybe because of the earthquake) we had a grand time. We weren't at all tempted to run away home to sleep this time. I *loved* our two nights in a strange bed, even with the walls being paper thin (this should be a hint to you that we didn't shoot any noisy couples action, or even any quiet couples action). It was all very softcore except for a couple of Delia's cumshots, and if I were the innkeeper I'd be happy to have us as patrons because the other guests? They were way louder than we were!
We're leaving in an hour or two to spend a couple of nights at a local bed and breakfast so we can do some shooting in a pretty(ier than our house) location. I'm super excited because the walls are PURPLE! Over the past five years of hunting for locations to shoot pretty, sexy photos the lack of color in people's lives has dismayed me. Why would you own a house and keep the walls white? Why would you try to rent rooms to people and think it will be any sort of a vacation for them with the same uninspired absence of color? I don't get it, seriously, except that it's cheaper/easier to maintain white walls.
Anyway, we're really looking forward to it; it's been many months since we tried to shoot anything semi-fancy with nylons and stuff. Delia's been saving a really slinky, beautiful ensemble one of her members sent her waiting for a nice setting to do it justice.
As usual I'm a little nervous about lugging all of our suitcases and light bags into the place. I hate stirring up suspicion amongst the locals; it's already weird enough to them when people IN TOWN want to rent rooms, but probably looks even more sketchy when we bring many giant pieces of luggage for a one or two night stay.
We'll be in and out of home to take care of the dog, download pics, fetch things we've forgotten, etc. In fact, the explanation I give the nosy people is that we are "getting away while staying close enough to home to check up on our pet." One of the suck things is that we've grown to not even want to actually spend the night at these places; we just want to come home and get into OUR bed after we've done our shooting, but not staying the night would *definitely* set off alarms with these people so we'll be imprisoned in boutiquey Victoriana until we're back home full time on Friday. Maybe next time I'll say that we've got construction going on at our house during the day that we want to get away from. It could happen, right?
Here's one of my favorite pictures that we shot over the past two days:
We rented a room in town for a couple of nights to shoot in, but wound up coming home to sleep both nights. We like being in our own bed at home with our dog, plus we are addicted to stupid shows like American Idol and America's Next Top Model. I feel a little anxious about getting rooms in town for shoots because people are naturally curious why we would get a room when we LIVE here. It makes me even more nervous when we aren't actually there all night; I'm afraid we'll arouse suspicion and wind up on some kind of small-town blacklist. Not that we're doing anything BAD by hauling lights into their rooms and taking nudey pics of each other, but you never know what people will think (they *have* to wonder why we have so many giant pieces of luggage; it probably looks like we're going to cut up a body or something).
This morning we actually had to set the alarm in order to wake up early enough to have sex, since I may have ovulated last night and we still had to go pick up our luggage from the hotel this morning and take the dog to the vet. I actually got to stay in bed and stew in the sex juice while Delia took care of all of that. Now? I'm editing a gallery of pictures (represented by the above picture) for members and listening to PJ Harvey.
Because I'm always raving about the beautiful light and view we have, here is PART of our view of the Olympics:
We were hoping to shoot photos inside using exactly that southern light today, but it was actually all wrong and coming in at the wrong angle so my legs would have been in blaring bright light while my body and face would have been shadowed. We're going to wait and shoot with artificial light when the sun goes down. I wish our yard were as private as it looks in these photos, because we'd totally be shooting our asses off outside (snow on the "mountains" would be a great titty gallery):
When we had to scrap our daytime indoor shoot plans, we backed up to trying to go somewhere to shoot outside, but I had to scrap that plan, too; every outfit I tried on that included practical shoes (because it's icy outside even though the snow's almost all melted away) made me look like a bloated marshmallow. So we're just waiting to utilize the one tidy area we have in our house this evening and I am doing other work until the sun goes down. If our house were crystal clean we'd have more options, but ummmm . . . it's not. We'll have to work on that tomorrow or something.
I'm editing a gallery of Delia's pictures; usually she picks through and touches up her own photos so this is a rare treat for me. There's not a lot involved in our editing process (adjusting light levels, contrast, erasing hot pixels and ingrown hairs, etc. all as needed, so on many photos we don't do anything) but we do go through every single photo individually to make these minor adjustments or to delete super-repetitive or totally worthless shots with no jack-off appeal. For me this is often a time to enjoy our work, especially when they're photos I shot rather than photos I'm *in*.
The reason I'm editing this gallery? Because Delia didn't think she wanted it on her site and thought it would be better on the houseboy site. I disagree wholeheartedly, but am glad it means the photos are in my hands now.
I guess she thinks they look too masculine; one problem with black and white photos is that they often dramatize jawbones, wrinkles, veins, hair, and all sorts of things that don't lend themselves to soft femininity. Also, she's naked in a most of the pictures and since she's not on hormones yet, her body is moderately masculine. I say that her members will still adore them. For now, her site is still marketed and named as a crossdressing site (she'll be developing a DeliaTS.com or DeliaTG.com site eventually which we'll add to our network) so we know at least some of her members ARE crossdressers who fantasize about being LIKE Delia as much as or more than they do fucking her. I'm just guessing, but I imagine it's reassuring to see her nude and occupying that grey area of gender, engaging in the familiar ritual of shaving, one of the few things a closeted guy can do regularly with minimal risk of raising suspicions. And all of those mirrors? Come on -- so loaded with a billion familiar themes.
It's amazing how much long hair or a simple bra communicates to us about someone's gender identity. Actually, it's more amazing how little is communicated by nudity and how much we "need" clues in the form of clothing to inform us whether we should relate to someone as a woman or a man. We actually don't have a lot of full nudity on any of our sites except the houseboy site, so that makes this gallery unusual since normally we focus on striptease-style sets with emphasis on familiar fetish attire like panties, tight sweaters, stockings, etc.
I'm fascinated by this transitional period we're in, Delia changing her name legally and about to go on hormones, us hoping to get pregnant. I love photos like these ones that will be reference points everyone can use to gauge her body's progress. These are before pictures (though not the beginning by any stretch of the imagination). We'll be able to look at her muscles, her jawline, her breasts, her balls, her hips, her hands, and her ass in these photos and compare them to a year or two from now when she'll have more fat.
Today we're going to try to do an outdoor shoot of Delia, and tomorrow an outdoor shoot of me. FYI: my period started yesterday and I feel GREAT. All is well and lovely. We were actually going to try to take a whole day off today, but that's not happening (though we *are* going to have a nice lunch out), nor will it happen at all this week. As a result I feel okay about watching pure buttloads of television throughout the week. Last night we developed an outline of some of the things we need to get done for/in October and I'm looking forward to tackling those things.
Anyway, I *think* Delia is coming around and will post the full set represented in these sample pictures soon. They are so not boy pictures.
While Delia and the dog slept, I snuck outside at 2 am to shoot the moon:
She must be camera shy because she ducked behind some clouds as I set up the tripod.
If I were to take up a useless hobby for the sole purpose of pleasuring myself, it would be night photography. Stuff lit by headlights, moonlight, flashlights. And by "stuff" I mean trees, lines painted on roads, and sinister figures under street lamps. It's my impression that you really need to shoot with film to do night photography justice, so I doubt it's something I could really get off on properly without spending a serious amount of time learning real equipment and techniques (which I've not really had to invest a ton of time or money in to shoot porn; we get by with very basic information and an amateur camera).
I have a fear that someday when I finally *do* take up this hobby, that all of the country roads that inspired me to love driving at night as a teenager will be gone. It's a realistic fear.
Right now is one of those moments when I am IN LOVE with my job, my boyfriend, my life and even myself. Pictures like these ones give me an idea of just how good things are and could be with a little more effort. It all seemed wonderfully synchronous to wind up with such retro sets right while I was reading James Ellroy and my mom's house always turns out great light and ambiance.
I know Delia probably won't be as excited about the black and white set as I am because of the harsher less-feminine lines and shadows, but as far as interesting PHOTOS go they are so much fun to look at. Of course, I wind up criticizing the baseboard heater and radios in the background that are from later eras. I always wonder what it would be like to shoot for a couple of hours and only try to get between one and ten really GREAT photos instead of trying to get 75-150 pics designed to lead to a thorough jack-off fantasy. I suppose we could find out, but I'm not really that curious to work it into our schedule.
What I'm more curious about is how cool it would be to invest in a fixer-upper without having any financial pressure to actually fix it up fast; the idea of having an older home that's kind of trashed out with texture to shoot in really appeals to me. Being able to do messy paintjobs and wacky shit without worrying about "ruining" the house would rock. I suppose first we have to be able to afford a house we can actually LIVE in, though.
On our journey to my mom's house yesterday one of our tires blew out on the freeway. Cool! Getting towed and having a couple new tires put on did eat into our shoot-time, but oh well . . . we have AAA and it was a fun white trash adventure, being stuck on the side of the freeway near the Microsoft campus with all of the fancy Eastside cars whizzing past our beater van. Plus I *love* the smell of new tires -- the ordeal was worth it to sit in Les Schwab inhaling the scent of fresh black rubber and boys in coveralls.
Good news: getting a new memory card for our camera seems to have remedied our problem. We also bumped up the size and quality settings for good measure, so I'm looking forward to showing off nicer photos to our members. Thank you very much to Merrick for the advice and insight on that issue!
We just got home from our shooting spree and at least one of the galleries is just FUCKED. A cute/silly one, too! It's like the photos are broken down into big blocky pixel-like chunks and I can't for the life of me figure out WHY. We didn't change any settings on the camera or do anything odd that I can think of. The next set of photos turned out fine, and actually many of the photos within the same set are normal.
Here's what it looks like (you have to click on the small picture to see the problem):
CLICK ON THE PIC TO SEE THE PROBLEM
I have no desire to waste time troubleshooting things like this either. Was it the camera? Was it the connection when I downloaded them? Is it the memory card? WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS CHOWING ON OUR PHOTOS??? I *have* noticed that it seems like our picture quality has been going down over the past six months and I've blamed our camera maybe just getting old and being overworked, but I've never seen anything this overtly fucked up.
On top of that the past couple of VIDEOS I downloaded from one of our camcorders and edited had problems too (beeps and weird blocky almost-eaten pixel areas). Is it my aura that's causing these problems or what? Again, I hate wasting time trying to eliminate possibilities one step at a time (cable? tape? camcorder? WHAT?). And it seems crazy to just go buy a new camcorder and a new camera particularly when the issues aren't happening consistently.
And on top of THAT? The CD/DVD drive on my new computer I just bought in January is no longer working. What the fuck??
Oh well. I'm just glad *all* of our pics weren't ruined. Maybe I'll buy an inexpensive camera while we're still trying to decide/save up for a fancy replacement. Maybe someone reading this has an idea of what the problem is? If so, fire away . . . it would be a consolation just to know what's wrong even if "what's wrong" is that the camera is totally shot out.
SOME GIRLS LOOK GOOD SUCKING COCK . . . . . . other girls? Not so much.
While I edited a POV blowjob video (shot from Tucker's "point-of-view" looking down at me ) I was once again disappointed by how alien my face looks from that angle. Alien as in "different" because I don't ever look at myself from the scalp downwards, but also alien as in "of the giant forehead and great big eyes". Like the greys, you know what I mean? Since the camera is closer to my forehead than any other facial feature, of course that is what looks biggest. Next, eyes. And then my nose, which isn't tiny and doesn't really benefit from enlargement. On top of that, I have a heart shaped face so it just looks like I'm this giant upper-half of a face, with a miniature jaw. I frequently look bizarre, like a praying mantis. And when I'm really going down on the cock and have as much of it as I can in my mouth? I look like a sunken-cheeked crack whore.
But I'll stop complaining since, you know, it's still really hot. And I snagged a lot of stills from it that I actually love. And even my crooked teeth looked sexy to me, reminding me that the Japanese actually have some kind of a fetish for crooked teeth; I don't remember the term for it, but apparently they think it's really cute. Of course you can't really give too much credit to the Japanese aesthetic when they're the ones who freed and made a celebrity artiste out of Issei Sagawa, a guy who cannibalized a big strong creamy-skinned Dutch lady.
While it would be most entertaining for me to show you lots of samples of me looking like a pale bug-eyed martian, it's probably better for business if I show you some of my favorite cocksucking (well, licking, etc.) snags with only one image of my totally-distended face:
Anyway, not all people really prefer to see a "pretty" face sucking cock. Sure, there are lots who *do* hold the prettiest cocksuckers in high esteem, but there are others who think the stretched-out features of a sexy-ugly face deep in hungry concentration are the best. You might also be surprised at how many guys fetishize tongues and open, empty mouths; lots of guys will specifically request (in porn and camshows) that you pose for them with your mouth open wide and your tongue sticking out. They will jack off to you just rolling your tongue out and laying it as flat as you can for them to imagine shooting their loads. This can be a difficult pose to maintain for more than a minute, but it really does the trick for some people.
But back to the most important topics at hand: me and my vanity! When I see my wrinkled forehead in photos and videos it REALLY makes me want an injection of botox more than a gloppy load of cum on my tongue.
I started out the day feeling cute but bitchy. I'm ending the day feeling ugly and bitchy . . . but more sure of who I am.
After my second photo shoot with Tommy Edwards I am positive that a) I do not take very good pictures unless I can see myself in a mirror, b) my tits have seen better days, and c) my face is not meant to be passive and . . . passive. And I'm fucking glad. I look horrible trying to look like a still life. I am not a model, I am not a bowl of fruit. I am just a regular average almost-thirty year old woman and the *good* pictures of me are something intimate because . . . well, they're rare.
Or maybe I just need to make sure someone who knows and loves me photographs me . . . how is it that out of the 203 pictures houseboy shot of me a couple weeks ago, 172 of them turned out to be beautiful, but out of the 255 pictures a professional took today, only about 50 look halfway decent?? The trouble is, Tommy keeps putting my worried-forehead double-chinned face into the most unflattering positions (with chin tucked down and eyes projected in gazes that I think he aims to be "smoldering"). I look like the waggly-jowled title character in "Throw Momma From the Train". I shit you not. Tommy is truly skilled and a master of working with light -- I am just not a good "model".
Other notes of the day: I missed the ferry going over by a mere four minutes and then spent 40 minutes in the passenger loading area watching a spindly-legged crab being eaten alive by a sharp-beaked seagull. I also observed two teenage girls exhibiting the hallmarks of vain feminine stupidity in the form of inappropriate dress for the season. It's fucking February chickies: put on a motherfucking coat over your midriff-baring t-shirt and please DON'T expose your feet to the cold puddles by wearing platform thongs, you nitwit embarrassments to our gender!
On the ferry ride home a good-old-boy type sat down by me and asked if I was antisocial. To boil down a 30 minute conversation into bloggable format, I eventually decided to disclose to him what I do for a living and handed him my card. I could write a short book about the conversation, but let me instead just share with you the question he asked me with genuine curious ignorance as opposed to a deliberate urge to be offensive and insulting, "so do you think you have any ethics or morals or standards??"
What I should have said (but didn't): No. I don't. In fact I could, without remorse, happily knife you in the face and then proceed to disembowel you for displeasing me with your idiocy. And then I would proceed to take video shots of me sodomizing you with my fist.
What I did say: Yeah. Yeah I *do* have morals and ethics and values -- I have a very strong work ethic and believe I provide a service to people while also challenging stereotypes people have of women and people in the sex industry. For example, the stereotype that you obviously have. Would you have asked someone in another industry (like the timber industry) that same question? I don't think so.
Anyway, I proceeded to my car only to find out that in my haste to be late to the ferry this morning, I left my lights on. Perfect. Just like a dumbass woman I called my boyfriend to come and get me instead of HELLO calling AAA to jumpstart my car. Fortunately houseboy had the sense to ask me "don't you have triple A?" instead of him driving two hours round trip just to give my car a jump and having us both waste gas driving home in separate cars. It was odd and eye-opening that I acted so helpless.
Good thing I have values and morals and ethics or I would make a terribly helpless eviscerater of men. I can see it now, "honey -- this guy made me mad and I have PMS so I want to kill him . . . could you come quick?"
Sometimes I wonder how much time other amateurs spend putting together galleries for their updates. I suspect that I waste more time than most doing very silly things that other people automate. For example, I relish picking out a font for my domain name that will fit the mood of the photos. Then I waste a bunch of time placing my domain name image onto an appropriate spot on the photo that won't cover anything up. I enjoy seeing the way the colors and the shadows and everything compliment each other. It's ridiculous how much time I spend on these little tasks. But I like it.
Another thing I wonder about is the interplay between vanity, porn standards, market demand, individual fetishes, reality, legacy-building and "art". I find myself sorting through hundreds of pictures of myself trying to pick through them and create an enjoyable gallery for members. It's HARD though. All of these conflicting demands vie for my attention. First of all, I myself have a short attention span so I don't really like looking at galleries of more than 25-30 pictures. I find it very repetitive and boring and wind up really not relishing a few really sexy images -- it's almost as though as soon as I see allllllllllllllll those pictures I find myself aware of the clock and that I need to hurry up and scroll through them. Perhaps this is just a function of my femininity though? Maybe guys don't think that way. Plus most people in the internet porn industry slap together huge galleries of 75 or more pictures. But then again, lots of those galleries are built around girls who are flawless looking. Frankly I wind up with a very mixed bag of content. I have a few really flattering images (a VERY few), a lot of pictures that cater to individual fetishes (hairy, freckles, natural tits, etc.) that a lot of people withOUT those fetishes don't really find appealing, and a lot of images that are artistically interesting but antierotic.
When I look at pictures like the one above I'm just not sure what to do with it. It certainly doesn't depict me at my aesthetic BEST (see the chin fat, the exhausted expression, etc.) but it's an appealing image. I think it would be more appealing to me if I were looking at a stranger though instead of myself. And then there's the problem of it being on a "porn" site. Well . . . I don't really think most of the stuff in my members area is "porn". Although I love the porn title and feel it's important to commit myself to challenging the stereotypes associated with the word (and the only way to do that is to call what I do "porn") . . . really a lot of what I love making most is stuff that you would find shoved into a library book and accidentally left there. Seriously, that's what I imagine most of the words and images on my site are really meant for . . . to be discovered with no explanation and no context. Just intimate photographs and jotted notes for someone to discover and wonder about, unable to decide if the women they're looking at are ugly or beautiful, average or exotic, rare or commonplace, passive or aggressive. Unable to do more than imagine what the circumstances were surrounding the taking of the pictures or their lives in general.
I'd love to make a site (or *something*) like that and have fantasized about it before . . . something the captures the trespass of finding something that wasn't meant for you but that you long to keep and wish you understood better. The kind of thing you want to stick under your mattress or save in a shoebox. The only hard part about doing a site like that is that with guest content I wouldn't be able to give credit back to the models without destroying the mystery of the whole thing. MMmm. . . or maybe not. Maybe there could be little "unveil the mystery" links. And of course I could always pursue photography more and then I wouldn't be under any obligation to give the models any credit at all. Sigh. One of a million unpursued ideas I have . . .
Speaking of doing more photography, I put an ad in the local paper for naughty people to pose for me. And I have fantasized about approaching young girls like an old rotten-toothed pervert. My sister and I were in McDonalds a few weeks ago and the girl behind the counter was fucking angelic. She was plump and had the sweetest face. So far I haven't seen any barely-legal chubby girl sites (although I'm sure they're out there) -- the teen sites always seem to focus on the skinny underdeveloped set. But seriously, the baby fat look is just as provocative and sexy, I think. Anyway, I wondered if there was a way I could give this girl my card without totally scaring the shit out of her and having the law on my ass.
Anyway, back to my competing demands when putting together content for my site; somehow I feel like honoring those competing demands in a very inconsistent way that is my "special purpose" or comprises the personal "legacy" I am supposed to be building with my life. Although I feel conflicted about it sometimes and hypercritical of it, I LIKE that what I do is a mixed bag of all kinds of stuff: the thoughtful and the careless, the priceless and the cheap, the mainstream and the marginalized, the captivating and the repulsive, the dirty and the sweet, the pretty and the unpleasant, the hard and the soft, the forced and the natural, blah blah blah.
I don't think that most people understand that when a girl has pictures made of herself . . . it's not porn, it's immortality. It's the fountain of youth. It's enduring proof that she's a sex object in hard copy just like a girl in a magazine or Jesus's words in a red letter edition of the bible.
DOWNSTAIRS It's really odd . . . houseboy is downstairs learning Premiere (Adobe video editing software) on the laptop while I'm upstairs working on galleries. We've exchanged a few emails this way (yes, we're in the same fucking house and we're emailing each other) and I find myself really enjoying it. I like being close but a little removed. Communicating without speaking.
Hahahaha! He just sent me an email telling me to quit slouching (he is checking on me on the spycams). Hehehe.