Too Little Too Late

I think this photo will be one of my absolute favorites. Not only do I love the composition and feel of this image, but I also love the connection that Erin and I have, and how that comes through here.


Big fat flakes are swirling and tumbling through the air like in a typical winter afternoon. Only it's not winter anymore, dammit.

Nothing of real substance this afternoon. Just groovin' and cleaning to Metric. Because I'm cool like that. Maybe I should do my taxes, but I wont. Because I'm a procrastinator like that.



You can burn your paper fingers in the ashtray
Place your swollen lips on mine
You can shave your heavy head in my carpeted hallway
Sure for the first time you're wearing the right clothes

Now take them off
Meet me on the band room rug
Tie my right hand to the ride

You can take a live wire into the bath with you
For a feeling you can't find
You can entertain your childhood friends with a tour of the bedroom
Laugh to erase the dirt on your mind

Oh let's move out
Meet me at the motel
Tie my right hand to the bible

Too little too late but we don't say no
It's too much to feel
Tie my right hand to the bible




--------------
Erin N.

Chip Willis.

Erin

I met Erin last summer at a small coffeeshop in Dinkytown called Muddsuckers. We probably spent three hours there that first time, chatting about everything and anything, including how we use the same lip balm - Burts Bees. Yes, what a small world.

Since then, almost religiously we've been having biweekly movie and wine nights. Little did I know that she would turn into my best friend.

Even before I knew her personally, she was and has been my role model and has had an enormous influence on my modeling.

Today is her last day in Minnesota indefinitely. I am so grateful that I've gotten so close to her, and that I've gained a friend where I didn't have one before...but I'm still crushed. London is a long fucking ways away. But sooner than she thinks, I'll be at her door.


The long and winding road
That leads to your door
Will never disappear
I've seen that road before
It always leads me here
Lead me to your door.

The wild and windy night
That the rain washed away
Has left a pool of tears
Crying for the day.
Why leave me standing here?
Let me know the way.

Many times I've been alone
And many times I've cried,
Anyway you'll never know
The many ways I've tried.

And still they lead me back
To the long, winding road
You left me standing here
A long, long time ago
Don't leave me waiting here
Lead me to your door.


The Beatles, of course.




Danny better be fucking great to her, or I'll kick his ass.

It's nothing personal, Danny. ;)

--------------------
Matthew Scherfenberg.

Dave Swanson.

It has to start somewhere

It's the new fad - everyone's doing it. Might as well jump on the bandwagon.

I got back from New York City late Saturday night after a long, productive week with eleven shoots squeezed in there somewhere. All of those shoots were fabulous and I got to work with some fucking awesome and crazy-talented people. And as a first-timer to the Big Apple... it was a bit of sensory overload, but I'm addicted. Now I just want to get my pictures...but I'll have to wait. I was shot with more film than ever before. But "I'm not complaining, I'm bragging."

Rumor is that I will be heading back within a few weeks. Fuck yes. (Hopefully with Erin)
Anything to get out of soggy, sloppy Minneapolis for a while.

I'm waiting for the sun.





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Portrait by Sanders McNew.

A soggy day in Central Park. Gary Breckheimer.