At least that's what it looks like to me as I look into her eyes. A mesmerizing, hazelnut ending of worlds, with flecks of gold and green falling into the dark, and it's all looking back at me, inviting me in.
And it's hard not to get lost.
It feels like a lazy Sunday all to our own as we wrap ourselves around each other in the big, warm, wooden bed. Skin against skin, we've passed the day away staring into each other. My hands running through her soft, flowing hair, watching it fall against her naked back. Her hands tracing soft circles on my back; my secret kryptonite. My goose bumps betray just how much I've always loved that.
It feels like we've known each other for a lifetime, even if it's only been a day. Funny how that is.
The sheet desperately hangs on, just hiding her backside and mine as we tangle in each other. Our lips locked in taste, our hands locked in embrace, they grip tighter and she rolls on top of me. Her naked chest against mine. Through her breasts, I feel her fast beating heart going to the beat of my own. Her hair falls in my face and hangs in my beard. A middle aged mans hand pulls the blanket down. She sits upright. She's beautiful, shyness gone. I move onto my elbows to follow her...
Wait.....What? Why is there a hand.....
"NINNNNNNNNNEEE!! Beseitigen Sie die Decke vollständig! Ich möchte keine Decke sehen!!!"
The walkie screams unknown German into our ear and we come back to reality faster than a Christmas DUI.
"The client would like to get rid of the blanket completely." the photographer says.
Right. Because this isn't a lazy Sunday is it?
Nope. Just looks that way.
Almost tho....
It's times like these that I feel like I live my life in "just looks that way" mode. I feel like one of those fake, cardboard televisions or stereos they put on furniture in Ikea to make it all look more "real".
With all the flavour of those styrofoam packing peanuts.
Almost, but not at all.
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| Gratuitous Zoolander reference: check. |
So while "we" may not be real, the question of the blanket most certainly is.
We look at each other and she gives me "the look." I know this look. I know what this look means so I say to our photographer "Can we have a minute? We need to talk about this. Alone."
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He's surprised and after a pause more awkward than Walt Disneys man crush on Mickey, he says "Ok." leaving the room to join the rest of the crew just outside the door. Loud, halting German speak ensues.
Ahhhh, the language of romance.
"So.....They want us naked. What do you want to do?" she says.
And this is me at work.
How did this become my life again?
Well, that story, a long, colourful one, that I still have trouble believing, is a story for a different day but it invariably ends with me here in Africa being asked if I'm willing to shoot completely naked. In the buff, sans pants, no underwear or most importantly and our last line of decency; the blessed sheet. It's a line, no doubt. One we either cross or don't. It's our call and our agents will back us either way but so far today, we have crossed a lot of these lines. Small little concessions as we've shot this intimate couples shoot for our German clients. They've been very happy with the results (at least I think that's what I grabbed from all the yelling) as we've moved through our shots and now as the day is ending, so are the places to hide my "shame".
Like a politician sweating KY; this whole thing is getting a little slippery.
Now, to be fair, if I lost the sheet....and the underwear..... I wouldn't be technically naked.....I would still be still wearing that one last thing. One very common piece of clothing.... just not how it's usually worn.
Question for you: Every see the Red Hot Chilli Pepper's perform? Well, I would be wearing basically the same wardrobe............... but with less funk and a lot less drugs.
A LOT less drugs.
So, I guess what I'm trying to say here is:
I would be wearing a sock.
A sock on my cock.
Said the jock named Brock?
Where's Dr. Seuss when you need him.
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| So I get a sock and she gets a hat? |
The sock in question, would be a black, Nike brand ankle sock but if I'm being honest here....I just don't think it's really a good look for me. Why not put me in a suit? I KILL in a suit. But just a sock? You put me in one sock and I'll look ridiculous and it makes me wonder; what's the point? Why not just go naked?
Couldn't I just ugly girl it?
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| Laces out Ray Finkle. |
For anyone who has seen the end of the above scene, you know why that's a bad idea.
So as I see it, there are definite reasons to sock it up. Three key reasons to be specific.
So let's talk cock blocking socks shall we?
First reason for the socks existence:
Seeing how there are two of us here shooting in very close contact, it's a basic hygiene thing preventing..... things from.....touching. Nuff said?
It better be because I'm not explaining that one.
Thank you Christian sexual health video from the 1990's.
Second, it's an insurance thing. For me, I'm pretty relaxed with where my pics end up and anyone who cares to google my name will see this by the sheer mass of embarrassing work I have floating around on the inter web.
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| Hurts....brain.... |
That said, I don't really want to add cock shots to that mix. I don't see that doing me any favours so, by wearing the sock, I can make sure that there are no in-between-takes shots that somehow end up somewhere online where they shouldn't. Call me paranoid but this happens more than you would think. In any given shoot where you're half naked, you can usually look up and take a quick glance of the room to see someone trying to snap off a shot of your baked goods .......and like dudes with whistles, it's hard not to just yell at them to fuck off.
Because seriously; who likes dudes with whistles?
WORST.
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| Can I un-invite you? |
So anyways, the sock nullifies the cock shot lookieloos.
Third and how do I say this.....It makes things less hard.
Are you reading me?
No? Well then let me spell it out for you:
I'm talking about boners here people.
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| It's the pleats? |
But whatever you choose to call it, that's not the point.
The point is, I pride myself on being completely professional on set and when I shoot with a girl I work hard to make sure she's 100% comfortable. So popping a tent while shooting is not only super unprofessional but makes things a wee bit awkward.
Like when Kanye speaks.
Because Kanye west is a total hard on.
So, just because a pocket rocket decides to pop up and rear it's ugly head in the middle of a shoot, does not mean it's ok. Trust me; it's not. I don't care if it's just natural. So is Ebola.
That being said, it's important to remember that while the end result of a shoot can look hella steamy and intimate, in reality, a film set is about as sexy Seth Rogans loofa. It's hardly a romantic setting where you have sex on the mind. Instead, it's usually a big open, dick-shrinking cold room with bored-looking crew all standing around watching you do take after take as you focus on your marks and blocking. Pressed on time and heavy on expectations, it's not exactly a stimulating experience.
That being said....... nature is a funny thing and skin on skin is a powerful drug, so the sock helps keep that issue from..... arising.
Understood?
Good. So the sock stays.
And besides, it's a lot more than girls get to wear in these situations....
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| Hard day at work? |
Remember that time.....
Me too.
But again, another story for another day friends.
"So what do you want to do?" she says. I look to her as if to ponder but I already know my answer. I knew it when I woke up this morning before my alarm and I knew it when I said yes to the job three days ago.
I miss that feeling....
You see, back when I first shot with a photographer, that very first time looking down the lens, I remember this crazy excitement from the whole thing.
This nervousness that had my hands shaking and my heart beating out of my chest. This lightning coursing through my veins that made me feel alive for the next week until it wore off and I needed more. Until the next time I booked a job and had to do it again. I think that feeling of excitement you get from being in front of a camera, is a feeling rooted in the fact that you can't hide. The camera catches you for all that you are. A good photographer catches what' s going on behind your eyes and when you step in front of a camera it's your choice to shy away or to rise to the moment. To be that person you always wanted but for some reason never felt you could. To show the you that you usually keep just for yourself. It's that expression of your inner soul that makes for lightning and for me; I got addicted. It made me feel alive from that very first time.
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| How all hair looked in 2003. |
Unfortunately though, time passes and things fade.
Just ask Luke Skywalker.
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| Stop forcing it bro. |
Yes life has a way of making you forget. Fast forward 10 years in front of a camera and I rarely feel anything but a small speed bump now when I step in front of a lens. Call it life, call it a profession or call it burnout but whatever it is; I do miss that feeling.
So when the opportunity came up to do a shoot that required something new of me, something where I would be outside of my comfort zone; I knew I had to do it. I knew I had to say yes, if not for anything else other than to feel that feeling again. That lightning.
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You know, when I put it like that, I can't help but think that people are going to read this and think "Kevin took off his pants to feel alive again."...... and while I'm not sure that that is exactly the message I'm trying to get across here.......I guess fuck it. Why not? Just a little more garbage tinder for the internet bonfire right?
As is always the case; no matter what the words I write it comes down to how you choose to read them.
Maybe you see a story of an afternoon spent trying not to get lost into a beautiful woman.
Maybe you see a bunch of tasteless wiener jokes.
Or maybe you see a storm chaser...looking for lightning. Chasing that moment.
Whatever you see, those world ending hazelnut eyes are looking for an answer.
Time to man up, Dirk.
The german speak has gone silent now. They await.
"I'm game if you are." I say and as I do I see into her eyes....
And see that very same lightning.
She's smiles.
Ok then. We are doing this.
Scheiße....
The sock, sitting there with it's little Nike swoosh, looks up to me and says "Just do it man" and with that; I "gear" up and call in the photographer.
All the last reservations are quiet now, drowned out by my very alive, pounding heart.
And it feels wunderbar.
