One Hundred Years of Vogue
And here's the syrup for Nancy, who thought I looked like a Bouguereau painting. Sticky, sickeningly sweet! Feel sorry for the poor, big eyed peasant girl. I used to be a fan of Bouguereau, when I first discovered him, I was impressed by his skill, but it didn't take long for that to wear off, and now I find his work so irritating. I also harbor an unhealthy hatred for the website that I linked to for the bouguereau images.
This is kind of an embarassing picture. My friend Michelle and I were goofing off in the studio. She is into photography without smiling and was trying to bring something soulful out in me. This is what came out. A little sappy and emo. Oh well, I just refuse to be too deep. Been there, done that, it's not all it's cut out to be. I have to be caught unaware, too. I can't pose for a picture, I just freeze up inside. (Yikes, feel sorry for me too! I'm a cranky downer.)