May 05, 2010
The studio is empty. The innocuous hum of lights and equipment dead. Rusted barbed wire lays strewn about the floor. The model is gone. The shot is in the camera, hard won for a brutal day of setup for one single, compelling image.
I settle into a chair and sip whiskey to deaden the pain. Countless scratches, punctures, and relatively minor inflictions, most will heal in days. Reaching for the iPod remote, I hit replay one last time, closing my eyes in contemplation of a title for the shot displayed on my computer screen. When the song ends I shut down the stereo, close the laptop, and turn out the lights. In my head it’s finally quiet again.
Make no mistake, there is hesitation on my part, in sharing something so personal. Returning to barbed for the first time in years, it’s a project now driven by obsession. I see it in my dreams, undesired visions, speaking to me as if it possessed a life on some shared mental plane. It tells me what it wants to be, even as it defies me at every step, and takes revenge with every barb.
It’s been some time since Muse demanded I pour my heart and soul into something. Images that simply refuse to vanish from my mind. The only way to be rid of them is to see them through the lens. Muse is a cruel mistress, demanding her toll of blood, sweat, and tears in return for her gift. But, having walked through the valley of the artistic dead, and returned, I’ve learned through bitter experience that the only thing worse than her presence, is her absence.
Just the first, of many, images to come. Some destined for fine art, others making controversial social statements, yet others with no excuse except shock value, and others simply for the beauty in something that shouldn’t be. Only the beginning. As the lights go out in the studio, and the sun creeps up in the sky, this first image brings tranquility few will comprehend.
It’s quiet again. . . at least for now. . .
Cross-posted to deviantART.
Copyright 2010 by Adam Chilson