Okay, so tonight was "Rhett, can you help me with my self-portrait assignment?" Which was really "I want to play America's Next Top Model under the guise of doing arty homework." Rhett was confused when I told him I needed to stop by the store first to pick up a pack of smokes. I was doing this whole jazz record, fedora wearing set-up and I thought a cigarrette would be apropos. I also love the way cigarrettes shoot in black and white. My association with cigarrettes isn't entirely repulsive. Both my Mom and paternal Grandmother smoked and so smoking does have a very feminine, elegant quality when the right hand holds a cigarette.

I scored some Parliment menthols for $1 at a discount liqour store's clearance bin. Anyone know why cigarrettes get clearanced? I figure $1 was about all I was willing to pay for cigarrettes that I wasn't really going to smoke. As a side note, my spare bedroom / home studio stinks despite the open window. TFMD's sister should be aware of that fact, in case she experiments with cigarrettes, which I wouldn't expect, but one never knows.

I set up the camera and told Rhett what shutter speed and aperture, but relied on his eye. I would pose and then he had the important task of making sure the shot was focused and the lens was capturing what I wanted. The last time Rhett helped me with homework it was, ironically, an Ethics paper that I kinda had him write. He earned me a D. A mother fucking D. Imagine! Earning a D on an Ethics paper, you didn't write. I hope this turns out better than the paper. I put a lot of trust in his eye.

I'm up at the unGodly hour of 3:00 (AHH the demons's hour) because my tossing and turning was disturbing Rhett. I could tell by the way he said "Are you gonna toss and turn all night or are you gonna get up?" But now I should try to creep back to bed and capture some sleep before I spend all day in the darkroom developing what might turn out to be 2 rolls of blurry images of my bedroom wall.

Scarlett