Living the Dream

Studying/practicing medicine can be a painful topic for me; it’s gone from being a dream 5 or 6 years ago, to being a plan about 3 years ago, and now back to being a dream again, as time presses on relentlessly and logistics appear increasingly insurmountable. Still, I can’t help thinking about it almost everyday, since I subscribe to a few blogs and journals along those lines.

But you know what? In becoming a dad, it dawned on me today that I have become more than I ever could have dreamed, in a matter of only three years at that! …Even if it is in the eyes of a three year old. You see, today I was a Unicorn Doctor, to the royal unicorn himself. And let me tell you, this unicorn was beset by more illnesses and injuries than any ordinary creature could have survived to neigh, meow, or caw about. He had a broken neck, 3 out of 4 twisted legs, a sore horn, and both wings required surgery. It was tough, I’ll admit, but we pulled through. Did I mention that his tail also needed brushing?

This is in addition to my experience as a ferry captain, a farmer, a king, a surgeon, a pilot, a fisherman, an adventurer, a horse, a mommy, and – last but not least – a daddy, the only field in which I possess some legitimate skill. I may never study medicine (other than in the comfort of my home, as a topic of interest), but today is one of those days when I don’t mind, because I’m already living the dream.

The King and Queen reigning happily


Directing Models


Pictures of models often leave me completely baffled at what look, emotion, or even situation they’re attempting to represent. The photo above is a perfect example, taken across the street from my office, at Emporium Armani.

The girl looks a bit odd, but it was the guy’s pose that first captured my attention. I imagine the scene going something like this:

Director: ok Alfonso, I need you to give me your most hurt, pathetic look possible.
Alfonso: what kind of hurt, sir?
Director: you know, the kind of hurt that comes with great loss; the loss of your pants, for example. Or the hurt from being mocked about your left knee being substantially smaller than your right.
Alfonso: yeah, ok, I think can relate to that… *casts eyes downward and rests his head against Bella’s leg*
Director: great, hold that pose. And while you’re at it, could you hold Bella’s leg up? I think she’s falling over from the drugs. Make it subtle though, I’d rather be discrete about it. Bella! are you with us?
Bella: of course mister Armani, I’m always with you, we’re all just energy don’t you know? just pebbles together in the riverbed of universal energy, just –
Director: yes, that’s right, all pebbles – are you alright on the steps or should we move to the landing?
Bella: oh, we probably shouldn’t move, not with these heels on. Alfonso, do you mind if i steady my hand on your shoulder? Ah, that’s better. Could you just let me know when to open my eyes?
Director: yes… Now Alfonso, don’t you perk up; those pants are gone, and they’re never coming back. Bella, I need your eyes open on 3, and give me vacant; absolutely, lobotomized kind of vacant. 1…2…yes Alfie!…3 *click click click* let that jaw hang open a bit, Bella *click click* yeess, now clutch that skirt a little tighter Alfie, like you’re about to wipe your tears with it *click click*. There it is. Stunning, you two are incredible, first take is a keeper, no doubt. Alfonso, help poor Bella with the stairs before you go find your pants, alright? And you take it easy girl, I need you around for my next shoot.

And that is just a fraction of the kind of dialogue that goes through my brain when I try to make sense of an image like this. What about you? Do fashion shots speak to you in a way that makes sense, or are you as perplexed as I am by their unusual poses, expressions, and wardrobes? I hope, at least, that having had a glimpse into the background of this particular shot gives you a greater respect for the kind of challenges these models face on a daily basis.

Feel free to post an image in your response if you would like an analysis.