Canadian Sojourn Part 7

 

To continue doing something with determination or resolve despite difficulties or an unlikely chance of succeeding.”


Now my mission to Folk Festival was over, I headed north up to the Maine woods. Had no idea what or where I was going except closer to Canada. The only thing I knew about Canada was that they had snow, Montreal had a world’s fair, and they spoke French. I was very lucky that I hit Acadia Nation Park, just outside Bar Harbor as the sun was setting. I drove around, picked my campsite, then settled in for the night. After coffee the next morning I went down to register, then I went looking for the Atlantic. I heard and smelt it before I saw it, I could hear waves crashing, wave that had come from half the world away.

 

Female model nude, by window, looking out.

The trees finally parted, huge boulders made up the shore, the waves crashing against them. I spied a young couple who’d come just to get away from their folk’s. I made for a spot some yards away, I was there for the power of the ocean. And a lesson in power was demonstrated in just a heartbeat. A wave broke, seawater made its way towards my feet, just shy it started to ebb. Then the next wave broke, again seawater raced up the boulder I was squatting on. As it reached my shoes the grip I had on the rock broke, down is started sliding. Just as I was picking up speed, I saw a hand reaching out to me, to save me. I grasped the savior’s hand, he pulled me back to dry rock where again I had somewhere for my shoes to grip.

Black & White image, female model, hands crossed over head, looking door.

The young couple became my instant friends, they took me back to meet there respective folks. It was then I learned that they came every summer, and had since the kids were small. I was to learn that most folk’s knew each other, longtime summer friends. There were people who came with relatives, a real family camp-out. I was welcomed by a number of families just by meeting their kids. One older couple I just admire their rig to be welcome. I became every mother’s son who himself was away from the family bond. I moved from group to group fluidly, though I had my space too. It was the change I needed, people to hail on my walks around camp.

Color image, female model nude, peeking out from curtain.

I also met single and groups of people who were just stopping in on their way to somewhere. Here pot was the great equalizer. I had some pot given to me as a going away present, and some hash I could not get off on no matter how much I smoked. Often people I shared the hash with beg off when I offer more. Once I met two guys who were traveling though, we shared some pot, and just as I was getting off, they thew my friend and I up against the tent and frisked us just like cops do.I was instantly scared straight as an arrow by their tactics, as they just laughed and laughed. Needless to say that was that as far as any pot sharing in the future.

Color image, nude model, red head, window in background.

But the park was very cool, and the people too. I decided that was where I wanted to be for a spell.

Canadian Sojourn: Part 6

The Mask, B & W Image, Black and White image, Mask on the trunk of a female model, nude, nudo, Mardi Gras mask.

The day started in a familiar pattern, coffee with the caretaker, then drive to the beach to meet with the hippy chick, other wise know as Marcella. Least 40 odd years later this what I remember her name as being. A short blond with a pleasant personality, we would go for long walks with breaks for cigarettes. Poking around tidal pools, just spending time together and enjoying each other’s company. Then I’d drive back to the park, fix myself something to eat, then to the festival. That night was drizzly, a guy had parked his VW bus and put up a portable TV which had the moon landing. Then the acts performed and the drive back to the park to sleep.

B & W, hand printed, my apartment,
Esperanza At the Window

This night the pattern changed though, a motorcycle group was having a party there at the next campsite. Not wanting to cause any problems, I parked and got ready for sleep. I thought I heard them discussing my van and the guy in it. After a few minutes I gathered my wits and got up to talk to them. As I approached they went on high alert, I walked up to the group with hands displayed in a peaceful gesture. I told them about the state trooper that checked on me, told the were he patrolled, suggested a part of the park that was safe to have their party, way back in the corner…, well away from me. They instantly relaxed, gave me 4 beers and thanked me, I went back to my van and had a beer. Just as I heard the first motorcycle start up, a flash of light lit my van. The trooper was there, he drove right up to them and made them leave. After a few minutes he continue with his patrol, then left. I had another beer, thank my good fortune, my silver tongue, then fell into a deep sleep.

Black Panties Michael Vasquez Photo

Next day there was not anyone I wanted to see at the festival, Marcella was, with a very interesting proposal. She wanted to see a movie, Romeo and Juliette was playing at the drive in near by. So I pick her up and to my surprise she had her little brother in tow. We got cigarettes and drinks and settle in for the show, some 2 1/2 hours long if I recollect. It was much too late for her father who had by that time locked them out, so off to my hilltop retreat overlook the ocean. We did want any red-blooded young people did in those days, after as the sun came up we took a dip in the ocean to wash off any tell tail remains.



Later that morning my caretaker came over for coffee as was his want. I let him know that I had company, as we settled infor out usual chat. Then after Marcella was awake I drove them back home and saw to breakfast for myself, then check in at home to see what was going on. I never saw Marcella again after that night. For a long time I wondered what had happen to her, but I had a plan that needed attending to. Maine was next on my agenda only because it was close to Canada. I still didn’t know where in Canada I was going to go, but I figured I would figure that out.


PhotoShop Creation from a Negative.

Canadian Sojourn Part 5

Black and White image, profile of a girl, head to knee, in shadow and light.

To continue doing something with determination or resolve despite difficulties or an unlikely chance of succeeding.”


I asked the cop if there was anyplace, like a state park that I could grab some sleep. He told about a state park that wasn’t far that I could try. I found the park without too much trouble and settled in for the night. Next morning the caretaker of the park came around to tell me no sleeping was allowed. I beat him to the punch and told him my coffee was almost ready and he was welcome to a cup, but I didn’t have cream or doughnuts. He smiled and said he’d bring some the next morning, then we sat and talked about his life. He said in the summers he worked there in New Port, winter he went to live in Florida. He got around to telling me about the state trooper who made his rounds at night, he would tell him that I was alright. Then the village was calling me to go explore the sites, so off I went.

Black and White image, young woman buttocks with shadows and light.

I drove back to that park I had tried to sleep in, walked out to the point to have a look around. I found a young blonde hippy chick was there at the point. I nodded a hello and kept walking. Next I drove out to the press site for the festival and presented the letter of introduction I had from the radio station. It said that the radio station was doing a report on the festival, to give me any consideration they could. Even thought I was a member of the press in good standing back in San Antonio, I could see that this was big time, with big coverage. They turned me down flat because they didn’t have time for small town press.

I just gave up for now, when back to the beach to look and to think. Now I had the time to think, to mull my options. Did I want to push them, was I going to Canada or not. The little blonde hippy chick was no where around by then. I did have a place to stay for the week, and a state trooper to check on me.., I was safe as possible. The caretaker and I began a morning ritual, coffee and a long talk. Next morning I went back to the point, there was the girl so I said hello. We stuck up a conversation, explored the beach at low tide. Her father lived there, she was visiting for the summer. Slowly she began to tell me more about herself, how her father would lock her out of the house for coming in too late.

Black and White image, young woman's torso , neck to knees in shadow and light

I got to drop her off at home, then went down to the church were all the kids gathered. I found the billboard where all the acts for the festival were posted. Most of the kid were sleeping on the grounds, but I had a very quiet hilltop view of the ocean to wake up to. That night I attended my first night of the festival. It was a lot of fun as you can guess, with plenty of pot going around to partake. I drove back to my hilltop, music filled my dreams and any thought of my responsibility to the radio station were soon forgotten.

To this day I still have reservations about not doing what I had agreed to, I reasoned that I was not getting paid anything, the letter hadn’t worked, and I was probably not going back for a long time, if not forever. Therefor I’d put out of mind till I was trying to get to sleep. My mind was on the festival and the hippy chick, although not necessarily in that order. I was slowly deciding that I was not going back to be drafted, this was my last chance to see the states.

Canadian Sojourn Part 3

To continue doing something with determination or resolve despite difficulties or an unlikely chance of succeeding.”


Next morning I woke to clear sky so I made a leisurely breakfast coffee. Because I was safe from the cops, I took my time getting started, had coffee and set my little home ship shape before I left the camp. I had read John Steinbeck’s “Travels with Charley” a couple of times to make sure I had the rule of the road down pat. In my own travels I mean to follow I-10 into Jacksonville, then highway A1A north, back then in 1969 it wasn’t much a road, but it followed the ocean right up where I mean to go as my jumping off point.

B & W image, late 1960's, high school friend, abandon night club, golf course, female model, white pants suit.

So off I drove into the future, I took a left at the junction and found the blue line roads of fame. Though small towns America I drove with a vengeance, stopping only for fuel for both the van and me. By sunset I started looking for a spot where I could grab some rest for the night. Virginia Beach has some picturesque spots on the beach, so I was hoping to hear the ocean all night. But before I could settle in a cop pull in and informed me that sleeping there would get me arrested. So off I drove in search of a place for the night and fuel for the van, seeing is how I had good luck in New Orleans. Luck held and the owner said that I could park the van for the night just off his pumps.

After I wonder at my luck with gas station owners, it wasn’t until later I found out from a mother that I reminded her of her son who was off traveling. She had the idea by helping me just maybe her son would find help from good strangers as well…, pay it forward it became to be called. I would later find in National Parks all sorts of kind people willing to help me out in all my endeavors. I became the living embodiment of the lost sons everywhere, of course I did not tell a soul of my real intentions.

Black and white image, late 1960's, female model in white dress.s

Even though the real south where I expected trouble, I found kind people. That may have been because I was not staying, just passing through. The late 60’s was a horrible time in America, sort of like the time we are going through now. In Alabama I found, you guess it, a kind gas station owner who warned me off filling my water tank that the water he offered had a bad sulfur content before I filled my tank. In Georgia and again in Florida I saw my first chain gangs with only black inmates. I knew then that I didn’t want to spend time in there, luckily I was passing through and made no contact with the local police. As I was on a mission I had places to be and people to see, I could not tarry.

My next stop was in Trenton, New Jersey, with some friends of my mother who own a small motor court where I would rest for a few days.

Black and White image, late 1960's, female model, swims suit, on a log. 

Erotic Work

Black and White image, two women, nude embracing

Erotic Work

I love doing my erotic work, I love the women who work with me, and I hold them in the highest regard. I consider them as co-creators to my images, without them my pages would be empty. As we work on a piece I give them the leeway to create, giving them instructions only when needed. My job is to run the camera, intrinsically how I want to capture the image before me. Same with my model’s, I give the free rein on their poses, only adding what I am trying to create. Symbiosis, a union of two minds each work on an idea, a feeling that in most cases can’t be explained, but only felt.

Recently I was work with two women, one I had worked with before, the other was totally new to me, my way of working. The new woman had her own views of what she wanted, and that was the other model. After a bit of a warm-up my models made love. No other words come close to describing what they did, I only told them what I want to see more of to be sure I had capture everything, they only too happily compiled.

Some would say that my shoot had been hijacked, I see it in much different way. I knew what I wanted to capture. I had to concentrate on running the camera, all those little details that make the image. For them this was the first opportunity these two women had to be alone with each other. They took advantage of that opportunity, and then some. But when my camera was finished so were they. They both had other plans for that night, bang like curtain coming down they were finished.

They stayed around to finish their wine, to dress. And then were gone like a small summer breeze on hot summer day.

Esperanza

Black & white image, glass block wall, topless,black panties, blond leaning against wall.

Esperanza came into my photographic life when she was 22 years of age. She was a little firecracker of a young woman just entering her prime. So full of herself, willing to play, had that confidence only youth can bring. After that first shoot she came back to my apartment to have a bite to eat, and to talk more. She was the wife of a friend of a friend of mine, trying to find what she wanted out of life. Later as we did more shoots we went out for lunch after. She’d take my arm going into which ever restaurant we had decided to go to. All male eyes, and not a few female eyes were riveted on her, I felt so special to be the man who had her on his arm.

Color image, cute blond, winter wear, standing in front of a silo, last of winter greenery.

She was among the first women to tell me that shooting gave her all the benefits of an affair without all the compilations. She’d try different personalities to see what they looked like to others. It was fascinating to watch her as she changed from one personality to another. Like most of my models, she came without eating anything so she’d keep that slim profile. But when that alarm sounded, we had to get her fed ASP.

Black & White image, topless, long haired blond, in front of bedroom window, staring out window, wearing a white sarong.

Even after I moved to New York City, I’d let her know when I was coming into town, we’d setup a shoot. I’d try new lighting setups I’d seen in my work with other photographers on commercial shoots. Because she loved to play, we’d try different things…, but she was hesitant to shoot completely nude. I did get a few shots of her in the all together, but her heart wasn’t into it. To this day I don’t understand her reasoning as she always had a terrific figure made for photography. But I accepted her wishes, warned her when she was showing more than she want seen.

Color image, black panties, tight shot of black panties.

I feel that it is important to work with the models limits, not to cop those shots the model is unaware of. In return she has the confidence in our works to give me carte blanche in using the images we have shot. I also feel that its the right way to go, to have that trust that you honor in all my dealing with my models.

Young Model’s

Color, nude, naked, arroyo , dry creek bed, dark haired beauty.

The problem is that young women are not prepared to understand or handle a situation like this, an older man with power and influence was carrying on, saying this is the way its done in the business. To me its not surprising because the higher functions of the brain aren’t developed until later stages of development. That is the concern I have about expecting young models to think through all the ramification of posing nude. I also have problem with thinking these “kids” as full grown women. That they should be treated with all respects as fully grown people at any age is a given, early twenty are still kids. I don’t want to take advantage of them at that age, I run the risk of being seen as paternalistic, yes I will shoot young women, but my preference is 24 at least. Yes I do get a release, but to think that gives me the right to ruin someone life because they agreed doesn’t mean I can use the images indiscriminately. Maybe because of my younger man’s experiences, kids don’t make the smart moves at that point. That’s why I still ask the women who are in contact with me if I can use their images for whatever I am trying. Having developed my own brain has given me an appreciation of the not yet developed brains. I know a lot of photographers who say “well I have a release!” To my way of thinking, yeah you do, but you should ask first…, maybe she has a reasons (like kids) not to want to be exposed like that, or to use identifying information with an image.

Young model nude, naked, white shirt, red haired, boots.

I had a model who was 24 at the time, but a young very naive 24 yeas old, She came from a farming background, wanting to make up for lost time. I could see that she was testing herself, testing her limits. We’d been shooting nudes, she was tired of that, too vanilla.., so I said, partly in jest why not masturbate for the camera. NO she said, but I could see she was thinking about it, was she brave enough. Now don’t go jumping to conclusions, I knew she was ripe for someone to take advantage of her. I also knew the way I worked, knew that I would be willing to protect her and her images. She said yeah but I have to get comfortable. So I got some really lovely stuff mainly because she didn’t know any better than to fake it, so when she left she was happy as a clam. Only after she had second thoughts, asked her friends, they told her she was nuts, that her job was in jeopardy. I told her not to worry, I wasn’t going to do anything without asking first. I kept my word, but still doing that was her concern, what did I think of her really.., she wasn’t that kind of girl. Finally a few summers ago we had the chance to really talk. That I had thought of all the ramifications before we actually shot, that I was willing to protect her, while someone else might not. Told her that I didn’t think that she was that kind of girl either, that I respected her, that I was still protecting her and her images. She was so relived that I didn’t think poorly of her. We went though the images again, told her how proud of was of the both of us, that she needed an outlet at the time that wouldn’t harm her. So all is good between us at long last. Spideer blouse, young model, class of champagne, toast blond, black and white, see through blouse.

Not everyone works the way I do, with my past mistakes of my own, made when my brain wasn’t fully developed, I have learned a hard lesson. I think of a shoot a little like the Stockholm syndrome, a model gets so comfortable with a photographer, that she wants to please him or her. Then has second thought, but its too late by that point; any damage has been done if she has signed that release. I don’t want to be that photographer…, ever! I want to do the right thing by my models then and now. I think that’s the reason I haven’t had problems. I do the right thing, even if it cost me money. I have found that the rewards far outweigh any monetary harm.

Young model, red panties and red shirt ,smoking, look down, color ima

Youngest Model to Date

Easily my youngest model, and most at risk. Just turned eighteen (18) with a toughness beyond her meager year. Already getting involved in the sex business, her portfolio was full of images that featured very intimate images. We made arrangement to meet, look over my work to see if she was interested in working with me. I told her point blank that her portfolio was showing too much of her, that no one was looking at her face. She very frostily informed me that she already had a manager. She agreed however to pose for me.

Youngest model, topless, young, work for trust, tough, street kid.

She came out of the bathroom in the cuties little bathrobe, smoking a mile a minute, her foot beating out a quick tattoo. Let out a burst of blue smoke and read me the rule for working with her. When on for at least five minutes, “any questions” she asked, taking in another lung-full of smoke. “ Yeah do you get naked?”, sure said she throwing of her bathrobe, giving me the feast your eyes on this look . While she preened for my benefit, “naw” I said, “lets get you in a dress!” She burst out laughing like the girl she still was, having been caught. In taking her down that peg, we became friends…, I showed her I could play as well.

Young, model, transpant dress, home stuido, sitting stool

We began in that dress as promised, soon she was nude, and man she could pose.., interesting stuff with very good moves. I asked her permission to shoot more anatomical shots, she agreed, but she didn’t want me to show them, they were for my own benefit. I had an idea, just in the formative stages of what I might like to do with them. She probably thought I was going to use them for my own enjoyment if you get my drift.

Young model, topless window in background, smiling.

Many years after, after I had a stroke, many long years recovery I finally had worked out that vision of what I wanted to do with the more intimate images I had captured. I worked over those images getting them just right. Then I sent them to her for her approval, want her to know that I wanted to donate our work to some groups who work for a positive sex culture, asked her if she agreed. To my great relief she agreed to let me use them. Working in a collaborative fashion is not for everyone, but I feel great that it works for me and my models.

Young, model, topless recline posel Black and White image.

Danish Summer: Girl ll

Danish Model, Black & White image, three quarters limage with a cute wrap around her bust, wearing jean.

This girl was harsh, harsh, and harsh in her look, patterned herself off the Germanic look. In reality she was a sweet girl hopping to make it in the big city. I tried my best to get her to relax her look, this was the best I could manage. The owner of the studio, Jim said it was the best look he had seen in her book, which was quite a complement coming from him, he had a great eye.

Color image of Danish model, in a Black PJ top, stern look

She had come over just in time for the madhouse of getting Jim ready for a shoot of his own. I sat her down in the alcove to the studio with a glass of champagne so she could relax while I made sure he had everything he would need. When I could finally turn my attention to her, I called her into the change room for makeup and to change. Then we set about the business we were there for, I made her change clothes fairly often to work off any nerves. And I tried to work on her look.

Danish model, color image three quarters, red top and jeans..

I also got her topless even though she said I don’t have anything to show, and I left it at that. I never force a model to try something she is not comfortable with. Their discomfort shows up in the eyes first, just like too much to drink. My job is to read how the model feels, and to react accordingly. An unhappy model doesn’t look good, there is something off about the photos. Now on the other hand a playful model will look so good in the photos, but when she has to explain to an unhappy significant other…, well things can change.

Danish model, color image, topless with jean shorts.

Anyway the model was very happy with the way she came across in my photos. And there was no significant other in the City to worry about. The only problem with that the afternoon that she came to look over her work Jim had locked his keys in the office. I didn’t get the chance to have a relaxing time with her, maybe buy her dinner, I had to make a mad dash to Grand Central to give Jim his keys back so he could go home.

A second shoot was in order, but in a boom or bust economy we never had the chance. We had a good time working that night, both of us got something out of out shoot as it should be.

Danish Summer: Girl l

Danish, model, Blonde, Topless, NYC Models, Danish Model,

One wonderful summer in NYC we had a Danish Summer. Many of the young women who were trying to break in as models dropped by on a “Go See” were of the Danish persuasion. The first of the ladies who pose for me, who’s name I can’t remember was a swimsuit model. We set a date for the weekend so as not to interfere with business. I arrived early to set the lights, and the reflectors I used. The model also arrived early and asked if we had an ironing board. I got her setup and continued with my own preparations.

Blond Danish model, wearing suit, Black Bra

We started the shoot with her in a yellow smart suit, then rapidly got down to business. She wore a black sports-coat with a lacy black bra…, then just the bra. I shot a Polaroid, and was waiting for it to develop. She on the other hand was ironing something wearing the lacy panties alone. I had the cured Polaroid in my hand, watching her iron…, studying how her body moved and looked. I told myself that they were only breasts, I had seen lots of breast in the course of shooting. Yes but these were lovely breasts in the prime of her life. She looked up catching me studying her, I smiled…, clutching the Polaroid to my chest and said I think you are going to love this.

Danish summer, blonde model topless hugging self.

Together we studied the image by the open window, her bent at the waist with those beautiful breast bathed in a soft light. Across the street, from the other building where anyone could see her didn’t matter. She did love the look of the image I had captured and we worked on trying different ideas we had. After the shoot a quick kiss on both cheeks as is the European custom, and she left. A few days later she dropped by again to see the film I had gotten developed. The only criticism she had was she was on her period, her eyes were too puffy and that ruined the shoot for her. I knew her eyes wouldn’t matter in the long run, it was the look and the feel of the images that make those images sing.

Danish summer, blonde model, topless, scarf and painted stripes on face

I have recounted this story many times since to many women. Only after I mention being on her period do they see the puffy eyes.