Tuesday, May 23, 2006

To be filed under A.
For Are you freakin' kidding me.
A pregnant femme was referred to me by several pals who I have made portraits of over the years. I call said pf and reassure her that not only has Yours Truly been doing this artsy-craftsy-journalistico thing for, oh, decades and more to come, but that I have photographed the mid to very pregnant before.
She tells me that her sister-in-law has had some pp's done in The Shiney Apple (cue the photog reaction of Oh, here we go. . . ).
Cutting to the good bits, the smarmiest of the bunch featured a butterfly, faux, on the belly of the femme in the photo. A faux butterfly, as if the belly were a force of nature, a giant flower to be alighted upon.
Thoughts wander to this femme is probably going to Google images and such under my name and I'll never hear from her again but this must be said
You are pregnant, the human body is usually quite alarmingly beautiful in all its dimensions, and pregnancy should strive for the primal end of the aesthetics spectrum rather than dumb down into what includes Precious Moments figurines.
And no paired wedding rings around your navel, either.
Here I end my anti-pregnant-art-smarm rant.

Love, in all shapes, in all sizes.

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