Title: And You, Who Hold Me Without Touch
Timeline: Some time after Pierrot started working at the theatre, see Story Arc
Outline: The walk home after Noah's first seen the Pierrot on the stage
Fake Credits: With thanks and apologies to J. D. Salinger, Mary Balogh and Sara Bareilles for the title.
A/N: Written because a friend of mine didn't believe it could work. The end has been re-written too often for me to see it objectively, I'm gonna let it stand now.
Words: 2,800ish

( The little square behind the theatre is quite deserted; the audience has long dissolved back into individuals- )

I did an accidantal photo shoot today - originally I just wanted to take a decent portrait of the Pierrot. But as soon as I had him sitting there all on his lonesome, fidgeting like a first-year, Noah came to the rescue. ^^



( +12 )

To give the Uninitiated-But-Willing (all one of them ^^) an a little more straightforward access into the story I'm unfolding in erratic glimpses and snatches, here an introduction, a Q&A and Dramatis Personae as well as an index of the existing short-stories listed in chronological order.

( Summary )
( Index of Stories )
( Dramatis Personae  )

( Q&A )

Insanely high contrasts again. It suits the Pierrot, though, who's so much living extremes, half in ink-darkness, half in winter light. It's actually funny that Noah should be the one to balance him, she's such a unstable little thing herself.
I expect he'd look luminous against a window of snow. I'm unsure if I will ever see it.

Also: new lashes! All glitter-free.

( +2 larger ones )

My crew doing what they do best: nothing. Autumn weather being what it is we decided on this as the most productive way to spend the weekend.



( Another 4 of cuddling dolls )

Title: it is always, my darling, a matter of life or death, as i'd forgotten
Timeline: Not so very long after Noah came to London
Outline: A realisation in spring and a snap-shot of summer
Fake Disclaimer: Title from Richard Wilbur's poem "The Writer". Thanks.
Words: 1000ish
A/N: Not easily written, alas, and not as feather-light as I would have wished it.

( Noah's different in the city. )


Double-update! ^^

Okay, I love that shot. I love the colours, I love the dolls, I love that silk flower and the glitter on his lashes.



( Washed out Pastels and Bows (+12) )


"Then he almost but didn't say the two sentence he'd been meaning to say for years: part of me is made of glass, and also, I love you."
(Nicole Krauss. "The History Of Love".)

Now I'm watering elephants
But I sometimes lie awake in the sawdust
Dreaming I'm in a suit of light
(Thank you, David Wilcox)



Ta-da! A very nearly full-body shot! I can't believe it either.
(Still working out angles)

Gentle imaginary readers! May I present:
The Pierrot
Or, more specifically, the *little* pierrot. His first incarnation.



Thoughts and discoveries that led to his current form ( can be skipped. )

I'm still trying out angles and getting to know him, from behind the camera and otherwise. At the moment he wears fake stick-on lashes of my sister's, very dramatic with glitter - at least until his real lashes arrive. I'm photographing him in places I took photos of Noah before, see how that's working out.

Noah, looking like a milk-maid - or as if she's ready for a bath, done up with a ruffle cap and everything. Which she's not, but it's hot here and we'll let it slip. :)



( +1 )

has joined us? ^__^

Anyone remember Kadmiel - the character of mine which the DK Kiss so charmingly failed to portrait? My bet is no. Never mind. Anyway. Kami is finally back in the world he belongs to, and I might officially be over the writer's block his poor resin incarnation sank into my sub-conscious. Also, I have very nearly 3,000 words to prove it! ^_^ v

Title: A Quarter My Grandmother's Grandson
Words: 2,800ish
Timeline: After everything. Kind of post-happy-end scene.
Protagonists: Samuel 'Sam' Whitelaw, Kadmiel Nièmans
Outline: About three quarters of an hour from the home life of Noah's older sister.
Fake Disclaimer: The Surprised Stare & the Raised Eyebrow for anyone who spots the phrase I lifted from Wodehouse.

A/N: Word of warning: I have a bad habit of planning an epos, writing a few starting scenes, and then skipping to the point where all unpleasantness is past to have a smush-fest. *facepalm* This one even, as a bonus, provides a look into my extensive, completely pointless back story.

( The morning sun is painting liquid aquarelles over the satin covers, deep, deep greens and blues to swim in. )

Back from luxurious 3 weeks of holiday, I've gathered my strenght to try something new - a shot with a concept ^^



Title: Instant Rococo (Just Add Water)( +10 )

We've got ourselves a brand new wig - obviously a fake horse-hair affaire, coarse and heavy and hot to wear, oh-so-suited for a lady.



Fotos first thing after opening the box, haphazardly put up with brand new pins. Noah just wanted to try the thing, no dress-up necessary, but ended up being photographed regardless.

Plus ( 4 )

Noah, all resplendid in our new jewellery (yes, I want those earrings back) - though the bring along was not wholly without ulterior motive, but more on that on a later date. I played with the lighting, obviously.

( One more Dark, one Light )