We’ve had a fairly wet Spring, and heading into what is likely to be a dry summer . . . but for now we are treated to literal seas of grasses laden with seeds undulating in the breeze, looking very much like actual waves.
I have tried many times to capture the mesmerizing motion of these green waves, but have not been satisfied with the result.
Pissed off, I resolved to at least capture the individual components.
Interestingly, this types of grass had all the strands lined up against the core of the seeds when plucked from its place of birth, and looked very much like the tail of a horse. However, after a few days at home, the seed tails spread out like Book’s hair. I was a little disappointed, but still snapped a few photos.
All these seeds were picked up during our walks . . . I probably looked strange carrying around seeds, but it’s not like I give a rodent’s posterior about what other humans might think of me. Besides, recently voters passed a resolution legalizing the possession and of use of grass.
Frankly, I’d been shooting grasses for years, and never realized it was illegal to have it and use it.
People might think shooting seeds is relatively easy, but it’s not. Lighting them can be a tricky thing, and these are shot with two remote flash units, and depending on the seeds, I positioned the lights on the side, front, or back of the clump and in various combination thereof. It be hard make these look good.
But enough technical stuff . . . people much rather hear about individuals pictured above.
That’s Lawrence, but most people use Larry for short. They are not going to get answers, of course. Larry is, after all, rather immature.
So, what is Larry’s story? A tragic one, I am afraid.
At a very young age Larry was picked up by a talent scout who promised it a career in modelling. As these stories often go, after a brief time in the spotlight (two spotlights), Larry was discarded as yet another fresh face took it’s place. Larry ended up on the bottom of a garbage can.
Meet Sylvia, a natural blonde that captivated the photographer’s heart. Even as Larry rotted at the bottom of a dark plastic container, Sylvia was basking in the spotlights, casting off strands of light from its golden locks, and making the most of the black background contrasting its wisps of gold tinged with green.
Rumors of sordid scandals spouted almost immediately; tales of wild romps in the prairie, being fertilized by random agents . . . there are even rumors of pictures being circulated in the corners of dark fields.
Sylvia paid no mind, concentrating instead on making the most of her time in the spotlight . . . and short it was . . .
Meet Benjamin; rather young for a model, but with nothing sagging on it’s tight body Benjamin was a natural for capturing the public’s attention.
But alas, Benjamin just awakened the public’s obsession with a tight young shapes . . . like that of Tatanya.
But none could foresee the impact a diminutive newcomer from parts unknown would have on the seed-modelling world. Appearing out of literally nowhere, no one could even guess at its heritage. Despite it’s mysterious origins, Joe D. came into the scene like a breath of fresh air.
This little dynamo could even glide, wowing even jaded audiences as it dropped from great heights and gently landed to the cheers of onlookers.
And JD was not only a savvy business-seed, but generous too, often remembering stars of old, like it’s close friend Bluebeard S Hrub, whom it hired as a manager.
They are seen here just after the forming of the Seed Talent Agency.
Almost immediately they started drawing both the most elegant of talent . . .
. . . but also expanding into showcasing the less glamorous models.
As word spread, they were able to attract the big names in the business . . .
. . . and by virtue of their generosity with each other, they were all soon rolling in the money.
Perhaps there is a lesson there for modern celebrities, CEOs, and other successful people . . . but, being people, they will not heed it, opting instead to be complete and utterly selfish rear orifices.
There is a gallery for these photos, and it’s HERE. It contain many that will seem to be duplicates, but they are all either lit or processed slightly different.
That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.
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Astute persons might have noticed these doodles, and correctly surmised they hold some significance for me, and perhaps for humanity at large.
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. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.