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Unpaintable Canvas and I did some drive by shooting as we headed out this morning, photographing some of the stranger wrecks that people are living out of out here.
The news is filled with stories about how, due to the expected increase in gas prices, many businesses here in the Ozarks may fail simply because everything is so far away from each other. This is a country built on gasoline, and there's no greater proof of it than the very real fear UC and I felt and saw as we shopped today.
Around mid-afternoon, we left Town and headed out to Pigeon Creek, this giant lake that was utterly empty except for the two of us. I tried taking pictures, but it felt too much like work. So we swam and joked and lay in the sun instead.
It's strange being with UC away from her Sexually Adventurous Lifestyle. Here, she is a child visiting her grandma, and it completely dissolves the sexual tension I usually feel inside the photographer/model relationship.
UC is a nice girl, but there's precious little connection between us, aside from a mutual interest in certain subjects (sci-fi, cons, brit pop, etc) and activities (road trips, cleaning the sink, etc). It's a markedly different experience from all my previous road trips, either a van filled with goths I barely knew but could easily talk to, or the romantic undercurrent of the last year's drives. I find myself wanting to reach out for her, and then realize that there is no such bond between us. Though she's usually more touchy-feely than most of my friends, the photographer/model relationship discourages such casual familiarity.
Hurricane Katrina has been itching inside my brain and I only realized why a few hours ago. Christine used to play out her role in the Toastology thing under the psuedonym Katrina Goodbread.
Something else I'd forgotten.
Hrm. Sometimes, I feel like I've begun writing my LJ as if I'm hoping that Christine is reading it.
I've spent most of the trip contemplating the differences between UC and the various women in my life that I've loved, trying to understand the inherent disconnect between UC and I. It's still a mystery.
Tomorrow, I'm going to put a roof on a workshop and buy an antique camera I saw the other day. I may even try talking my model into posing for me.
The news is filled with stories about how, due to the expected increase in gas prices, many businesses here in the Ozarks may fail simply because everything is so far away from each other. This is a country built on gasoline, and there's no greater proof of it than the very real fear UC and I felt and saw as we shopped today.
Around mid-afternoon, we left Town and headed out to Pigeon Creek, this giant lake that was utterly empty except for the two of us. I tried taking pictures, but it felt too much like work. So we swam and joked and lay in the sun instead.
It's strange being with UC away from her Sexually Adventurous Lifestyle. Here, she is a child visiting her grandma, and it completely dissolves the sexual tension I usually feel inside the photographer/model relationship.
UC is a nice girl, but there's precious little connection between us, aside from a mutual interest in certain subjects (sci-fi, cons, brit pop, etc) and activities (road trips, cleaning the sink, etc). It's a markedly different experience from all my previous road trips, either a van filled with goths I barely knew but could easily talk to, or the romantic undercurrent of the last year's drives. I find myself wanting to reach out for her, and then realize that there is no such bond between us. Though she's usually more touchy-feely than most of my friends, the photographer/model relationship discourages such casual familiarity.
Hurricane Katrina has been itching inside my brain and I only realized why a few hours ago. Christine used to play out her role in the Toastology thing under the psuedonym Katrina Goodbread.
Something else I'd forgotten.
Hrm. Sometimes, I feel like I've begun writing my LJ as if I'm hoping that Christine is reading it.
I've spent most of the trip contemplating the differences between UC and the various women in my life that I've loved, trying to understand the inherent disconnect between UC and I. It's still a mystery.
Tomorrow, I'm going to put a roof on a workshop and buy an antique camera I saw the other day. I may even try talking my model into posing for me.
