Bear Creek Trail

Now and again I think about Amy and how she influenced my life, she never claimed to be an artist. After school I’d drive to library and pick her up. All she wanted was coffee and cigarettes, she convinced me to buy a crockpot and rarely would shower. The cigarette smoke was getting to my head, I burned every candle and incense I could find.

Its been a while since I’ve seen or thought about Amy, I believe she might have been an angel if it wasn’t for the photographic evidence or her being there, in the studio, she moved with grace. I had successfully converted a homeless woman into a model, what a show! I set up the most beautiful lighting scene (glamour shot) 8 alien bee 1600 all aimed elegantly to express the fluffy fur coat I chose to wear. I tried to give Amy a nicer jacket she declined, she ate the camera up with one bite.

Magnetic the strobes fire, and at once a rapturous moment is born and slain, captured forever and ever in the little devices around my computer, I said her take a picture of just me, without dropping it Ms Amy.