The story’s too long and taxing to tell, I’ll write it all down some other time. Let’s just put it this way: I had the prettiest models, and I had a kick-ass mentor, an assistant, and a studio where local TV stars get photographed. And the only expense was a dinner treat for my gorgeous subjects. Oh, and taxi fare.
I guess I’m still on a high from the experience, initiated by a real simple hunch that this feels right, and I had to do it, because I’d be damn restless if I didn’t push through with the whole thing.