Mance Rayder's Road Manager.Photographer, art model, hooper, endearingly awkward.
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GDSP #19 Dance Your Joy, Your Bliss
As per Ada’s prompt over on Guest Directed Self Portraits, I was to dance my bliss. The song was accidental but it worked. Working on basic flow things and my ridiculously long hair all in my face.
I know this was supposed to be a photograph, but I can’t always photograph my bliss and I was itching to hoop for the first time in a long time.
Instead of thinking about who I was angry at, I decided to put on Michael and Janet Jackson’s “Scream” and start clawing at my face. I’m terribly red now. And a litte light headed. But less frustrated.
Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope…
I honestly waited until today to do Katie’s GDSP because I wanted my Star Wars themed picture to be taken on Star Wars Day. I’m sad, I know, but I kept dancing around all excited and answering the phone with, “Hello Catskill Art Supply, this is Jacci, Happy Star Wars Day!” so it was fitting. I could’ve pulled out my books and trinkets and stuff but honestly, I like the simple things better. I hope everyone had a magical Star Wars Day (even Trekkies, since we should celebrate space together and the fact that Pluto was once a planet and not worry about all the weird stuff fans have against each other. Which I don’t since I was brought up a SW kid, but my grandmother loved Star Trek- you shut the fuck up when William Shatner was on the screen- so I eventually liked both though Star Wars was my first love so it wins in my picture today.) Star Wars makes me ramble.
Let me tell you the story of how I hate SpaghettiOs. Most kids I knew growing up loved this stuff. All my cousins did, my siblings. So my Grandmother would cook it up and make us eat it. She was a strong Irish Catholic woman who had a tough love that you felt with a wooden spoon if you were bad. And when it came to eating foods, I was considered bad.
A lot of things make me sick. You wanna see me puke on the spot? Feed me tropical fruits like pineapple (even the smell of oranges makes my stomach turn). Or feed me SpaghettiOs. Something in them would make me throw it up right away. I remember her force feeding them to me one time, looking away for a second to see what my mother was saying to her, and coming back to me dry heaving up the last of the spoonful she fed me. Needless to say, after puking on her table, I wasn’t forced to eat them anymore.
So when Josepha decided we had to get dirty, I couldn’t think of any other way to do this picture. I have terrible ideas sometimes.
Max/Jax shaves her legs.
GDSP #10 was supposed to consist of something important to you-
When I was little, apparently I didn’t like the eat. I was more interested in doing things, staring at people, and making food art than I was in eating what was put in front of me. So my dad would place this on the table in front of my high chair and make it move for me. Amazed at the woman dancing, I would open my mouth and my parents would shovel food in. Some people had “airplanes,” I had my own belly dancer.
And for the record, this tasted of wood and ancient paint with a slight after of wine, mainly because I’m drinking it now. And it still smells like my dad’s pipe tobacco mixed in with the smells of my room.