Naked part 3
Slowly but surely the movie is coming to fruition after a variety of set backs. Everyone involved is working hard as their schedules and finances permit. I knew that the director would one day call out of the blue and say "today's the day" and I would be off to the studio. Fortunately I am in a position where my schedule will be fairly flexible and free for the next few weeks until I go back to work, so this is not a problem. And since I am free like the bird, I will help in the causes around me and not make excuses for not doing said things. I got notice from the director that the big day was coming to include me all of a sudden tomorrow. However, I did not check my email until about 2 in the morning. Oh no, tomorrow?! Timing and scheduling was not a problem, I was free and able to be with them as long as possible with whatever needed to be done and I was willing. It just so happened I had a problem with my presentation.
When I arrived at the studio the next day, I dressed as conservatively as possible in a long sleeved T shirt that had Wonder Woman on the front (from the Silver Age of comics as she was depicted, I believe), and he had on his spread of old school Marvel comic characters. I'm a DC gal, but I respect and acknowledge his lifestyle and choices. We have a bit of a problem here. He asked what it was. I said it would be best just to show him. I lifted up the front of Wonder Woman like a woman would do in order to flash someone and showed him. Last night I had a late night encounter and it had left me black and blue and purple and now my chest had sprinkles of bruises on them (I won't say who, nor if this was the result of passion or a streetfight because I AIN'T CRAZY), but it was at the most opportune time that I ended up with these throbbing black and blue marks upon my person.
It was at this moment that I took out to find just about everything wrong with myself. Everyone says that you're supposed to love your body with all its imperfections and quirks and whatnot, that despite all the ideals of physical beauty we are fed by the media we are not to compare ourselves to this or that or another and be happy with who we are. But there I stood below the fluorescent lights with a big, red broken vein under my right eye, a late July Dollywood tan on both arms and neck (and white patches on my wrists where my leather bands are always), throbbing purple marks on my chest, scabbing cut on my left ankle from where I cut myself shaving under a Band-Aid, then realizing I think I needed to take another water pill to get that little extra something something out of my gut (I'd been neglecting the gut, been working on upper body strength lately). That and the fact that I have always been self conscious about my posture and meaty, farmer flesh cankles, I realized I was about to show this to the world. Instead of an object of desire I would be this hideous, grotesque monster put on display like a human oddity at a circus sideshow freak. The director said that this added feature of the bruising would not be an issue, for he had a cunning plan (like all directors do, as they are, after all, in command).
I was to be in the background of two other women who were chatting about other things. Quite honestly, I didn't pay too much attention to what it is they were talking about, because my instruction was to take off just the white T shirt, keep on the yoga pants and bra and do some stretching as the model who was about to go before a group of art students to be sketched or painted. I was more concerned with moving around as much as possible in dynamic stretching movements that were as big and exaggerated as possible yet not taking away from the dialogue of the two majors. During a break, one of the others on the small filming crew asked me if I was a professional model / actress. I said no not exactly. He said he would've never known otherwise. I honestly don't know if he was kidding or not. But then again, Shirley Temple could do this when she was three, right?
Filming went fine during the day, all the was required of me and others was to just move some stuff around the room in and out of shots. I did my stretching and made it big and mobile so that it would stand out but not stand out too much as to take away from the two gals up front. Being in front of the camera is awesome, but I also did not want to take away and focus all attention because I was, after all, in the background. Maybe from a distance the bruising would not be noticeable. My "big scene" of full frontal nudity was not going to happen after all that day, because they ran out of film. Another day, they said. Perhaps it was better that way, as I needed to heal up and maybe hit the gym some more. But no more spaghetti after today, that puts too many pounds on me.
When I arrived at the studio the next day, I dressed as conservatively as possible in a long sleeved T shirt that had Wonder Woman on the front (from the Silver Age of comics as she was depicted, I believe), and he had on his spread of old school Marvel comic characters. I'm a DC gal, but I respect and acknowledge his lifestyle and choices. We have a bit of a problem here. He asked what it was. I said it would be best just to show him. I lifted up the front of Wonder Woman like a woman would do in order to flash someone and showed him. Last night I had a late night encounter and it had left me black and blue and purple and now my chest had sprinkles of bruises on them (I won't say who, nor if this was the result of passion or a streetfight because I AIN'T CRAZY), but it was at the most opportune time that I ended up with these throbbing black and blue marks upon my person.
It was at this moment that I took out to find just about everything wrong with myself. Everyone says that you're supposed to love your body with all its imperfections and quirks and whatnot, that despite all the ideals of physical beauty we are fed by the media we are not to compare ourselves to this or that or another and be happy with who we are. But there I stood below the fluorescent lights with a big, red broken vein under my right eye, a late July Dollywood tan on both arms and neck (and white patches on my wrists where my leather bands are always), throbbing purple marks on my chest, scabbing cut on my left ankle from where I cut myself shaving under a Band-Aid, then realizing I think I needed to take another water pill to get that little extra something something out of my gut (I'd been neglecting the gut, been working on upper body strength lately). That and the fact that I have always been self conscious about my posture and meaty, farmer flesh cankles, I realized I was about to show this to the world. Instead of an object of desire I would be this hideous, grotesque monster put on display like a human oddity at a circus sideshow freak. The director said that this added feature of the bruising would not be an issue, for he had a cunning plan (like all directors do, as they are, after all, in command).
I was to be in the background of two other women who were chatting about other things. Quite honestly, I didn't pay too much attention to what it is they were talking about, because my instruction was to take off just the white T shirt, keep on the yoga pants and bra and do some stretching as the model who was about to go before a group of art students to be sketched or painted. I was more concerned with moving around as much as possible in dynamic stretching movements that were as big and exaggerated as possible yet not taking away from the dialogue of the two majors. During a break, one of the others on the small filming crew asked me if I was a professional model / actress. I said no not exactly. He said he would've never known otherwise. I honestly don't know if he was kidding or not. But then again, Shirley Temple could do this when she was three, right?
Filming went fine during the day, all the was required of me and others was to just move some stuff around the room in and out of shots. I did my stretching and made it big and mobile so that it would stand out but not stand out too much as to take away from the two gals up front. Being in front of the camera is awesome, but I also did not want to take away and focus all attention because I was, after all, in the background. Maybe from a distance the bruising would not be noticeable. My "big scene" of full frontal nudity was not going to happen after all that day, because they ran out of film. Another day, they said. Perhaps it was better that way, as I needed to heal up and maybe hit the gym some more. But no more spaghetti after today, that puts too many pounds on me.
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