Yesterday I did a photoshoot with the Photographer Extraordinaire Ivan S. Harris. I was skeptical about it since I have a MOUNTAIN of work that awaits me. Who do I think I am to wear a mask of makeup and try to bat my eyes for the camera? I can sense my work waiting around every corner, ready to pounce. Not to mention I’ve been eating a lot of chocolate lately. I don’t mean a few pieces of itty bitty squares. More like a chocolate bar that weighs 2 pounds (They actually sell them at Marshalls!). Oy, sexiness left me when 10lbs extra strutted into my life like a too loud diva. But we had already set a day and I already pushed back a shoot with him earlier in the week. Flakiness had no right to add itself to my busy agenda. So I went, feeling half-ass even in the steps I took as we walked to the La Jolla Shores barefoot.
When my feet touched the sand something marvelous happened. For a second I become a child again and remember when my father used to take us to the beach every weekend to run wild in the sunlight. How free I felt in the cool waters. How he used to carry me on his shoulders when I was too tired to make it back to the car. How he would take us to eat afterward’s at my brother and I’s favorite spot. They were glorious, they were paradise. The paperwork and neverending emails were momentarily forgotten. When I reached the chilly waters, I actually twirled like some new-aged Marie Poppins. Sea air filled my lungs.
Then we shot. I tried to bring back those memories as Ivan aimed and pulled the trigger. Still waiting to see how the pictures turned out but here’s one he sent me from the batch. I’ll let you be the judge of whether or not the reminisces or workload can be seen. Either way, I hope in your own world of work, work, work, or kids, kids, kids, or bla, bla, bla that you find a place that reminds you of happiness till you attain it. Happiness, always my lovelies.