MM URL: http://www.modelmayhem.com/theflyingoliphant
Poetess ~ Fire Dancer ~ Runaway Muse
I do this for the art. As such, there are paid projects that I've passed on and TF projects that I'm happy to collaborate on. I love hearing other artists ideas, concepts...everything. If you like my work and look, and you have something in mind, send me a message. Please don't use TAGs to express serious interest. I may or may not see it. PM me your concept.
A bit about me/some of my own ideas for shoots:
-I'm a fire dancer and an object manipulator. (Fancy way of saying I spin poi and play with a hula hoop - I also use palm torches.) If you've got experience shooting action and/or fire, I'd love to create some unique, location based images, where the fire is NOT the main attraction, but rather an expression of a character in an unusual place.
- Hula Hoops. I'd love to do a grunge pinup/rockabilly shoot with my hoops. Thinking gingham halter, denim, graf art on-site. Gritty bubble gum if you will.
- Gypsy/Flamenco. I sometimes work an immersive poetry project where I take on the character of a bedouin girl who was kidnapped, then lost at sea. You can read her story here (http://jyanavar.tumblr.com/). I'd love to do some in-character portraits -- vintage look, brown leather corset + gypsy costuming, wild hair.
- Collaborative art pieces with a focus on theatrics and the surreal. I like strangeness. I like putting normal things with other normal things to create abnormal things. Matryoshkas lined up over my body, abalone to my ear in a coffeeshop, lit lanterns in broad daylight.
Let's be weird together.
"The ship they dragged her onto was made from whalebone. The sails, moth-wing: the death's-head moth. The kind born with both a skull and a thorax. To escape, she walked the catclaw plank and dropped into the sea like a sacrifice. If she'd had a map, her fall would have been marked by the phrase: "Here be monsters."
And monsters there were.
Amidst the seaweed and marine snow they hid her, saw in her something of themselves. Three centuries she spent with them, drunk on the language of sea beasts. Before the ocean spit her back, they named her as their own.
Curbside (Dan McBride)