Enter the Labyrinth

It's a trip
music & poetry
words
I like it
but rather than me tell you
& teach you like the plastic gods
of this world,
I invite, invoke & enlist you to
come along, come alive


Augury of Rock

Ashe REALLY writes about modeling

So, here's where Ashe really and truly writes about modeling, savvy?

I'm starting to hate it. And by hate, I mean what I say. Hate.

This is not me.

I got into it on a whim, and the first few times were fun. The next few times after that were fun, too. The money isn't bad, I'll give it that. I like being able to get $200 for three hours of my basically expending no effort. However, posing nude in the forest with various photographers who feel that such a setting is "different" somehow, or "outrageous"...you see, people have zero concept of originality, the pictures suck, I walk out with cash, but I don't use the pictures for my portfolio, because I think they're so fucking awful and mundane.

Back in June or July, I met up with an absolutely fantastic photographer who was really able to help me pose and express my creativity through images that I positively adore.



That's when I started thinking to myself about how it's really an artistic outlet, just another one that I can master and make beauty with, talk through.

However.

No one's in it for the art anymore. You meet people who SAY they are...but no one is. Recently, a few weeks ago, I was contacted by another photographer who said that he wanted my creative influence on his portfolio, but...that ended up being a complete and utter disaster. Once I got there, all he saw were my long legs and big boobs and he decided instantly that he wanted to sex up my port with images that showed my "sexy" side, not my bloody side. The pictures he took came out great, he said that I could make some absolutely SERIOUS cash, but...

Eh.

That isn't me.

He was pissed. He said that all the models I know who do alternative modeling do it because they can't do anything else. They do it because they're 5'5" or 5'4" and that's their only option. But me? Oh, I'm "high fashion" material, I'm 5'10", I'm "twenty years old" I ought to "sell myself".

I'm not trying to be part of a cocaine addicted industry. I don't want my body to be my main source of income. I don't know how I got on this crazy ride to begin with, but I think I want off.

Eh.

Portfolio

I finally got some pictures back from the shoots I've done over the past couple months! So excited. I edited two of them today. (What else can you do besides sit on your can and photoshop shit, when you're sick and coughing voraciously all day? -wheeze-)



On that note, something interesting happened to me yesterday. It was an event that was riddled with a great deal of drama and annoyance on my part.

Last week, in order to help promote my good friend George Bats' UPCOMING HALLOWEEN PARTY, we did a photoshoot in an abandoned building. The point of the photoshoot was to obtain an image that would be sufficient for a flyer. It's a Halloween party...the whole idea was to have a scantily-clad female looking "spooky" so that people will see the flyer and want to attend the event.

My friend, with COMPLETELY GOOD INTENTIONS not at all meant to degrade me in any way, shape, or form, added the raw images from the shoot to Facebook's official "Halloween" page. I log onto Facebook to see the pictures, and am stunned to see that I not only have fifty friend requests, but 200-some-odd picture comments. I made the mistake of looking at those comments.

Not only were the images retaining absolutely disgusting sexual commentary from the males, but every single female who saw the pictures felt the need to call me a slut, a whore, and basically every other derogatory statement that they could think of. One went so far as to say that I "must not have self-respect". I was even accused of usurping the "spirit of Halloween" (I believe, if my memory is correct, that I-personally, of course-had renamed the holiday "Slutoween".) There were also a great deal of creepy messages in my inbox from weirdos.

I'm not going to lie, it made me upset.

For about five minutes.

That's when three of my friends rose to my defense and made me feel better by making me realize the truth of the whole situation.

• These people are stupid. They believe that I cannot see the commentary, so therefore, they made complete asses of themselves in the feedback.
  
• All those horrible insults (on the females' part of course) stemmed from a lovely thing called insecurity. They felt threatened by me, so calling me a whore consequently made me less of a threat, in their eyes. They simply became jealous and angry seeing all the commentary from the men (also VERY unwanted) and showed me their teeth.
  

In the end, I asked for the pictures to be taken down, just to avoid all of that unpleasantry. I need to edit them, anyhow.

Now, I must go back to being sick.

go.for.the__J U G U L A R

Firstly, I'd like to say that I am so, SO happy to have my music back. Currently, I am relaxing in my living room and listening to the beautiful tragedy that is Malice Mizer's Bel Air. (for all of you non J-rock nerds, it's a lovely song and I highly recommend it.)

I had to "borrow" music from someone not too long ago, because something had happened with my iPod in which all of my music became corrupted. It wasn't cool. It wasn't that I didn't like the music that I had "borrowed", in that case, however, I have certain things that I need to nerd out to.

Like Nightwish...and Malice Mizer...and The Misfits.

I also require my emergency "stripper songs," which is basically all of Hellbilly Deluxe. And by 'emergency', I mean "I'm drunk and need something to dance to."

This blog was supposed to show that I am intelligent as well as a model. Guess I'm failing in that regard, huh?

Oh well. A friend of mine said something that made me ridiculously happy last night, if we're on that subject. He said that our group of friends was like a song, and that I am the one note, out of all of us, that is just a little bit off-key but makes the song work. It made me feel quite loved, and it also made me feel a bit better about letting my insanity seep into this blog.

Anyhow.

Here, artsy folks, have a list. Isn't that what you blog people do? Make lists?

Ashe Romeo's Top Ten List of Strippa' Songs:

• Rob Zombie: Living Dead Girl
  
• Theory of a Deadman: Bad Girlfriend
  
• Angelspit: Skinny Little Bitch
  
• Unter Null: Sick Fuck
  
• DJ SISEN: sAGa
  
• Combichrist: This Shit Will Fuck You Up
  
• Marilyn Manson: [s]AINT
  
• The Coasters: Down In Mexico
  
• Rammstein: Du Hast
  
• Aerosmith: Love In An Elevator
  

Baby, can you dig your man?

Hello, everyone.

My name is Ashe. I have a sexy brain.

I am not new to this blogging thang, as I have kept a personal one for about six years now. However, now that I've found myself a niche, I think it's time to "grow up" a bit in terms of what I'm writing about. Of course I'm still going to be "me", but I wanted something a bit cleaner and more professional-ish.

So there you have it.

This blog is going to include samplings from my modeling portfolio, and I will try with each entry to focus upon a book, movie, or music finding that has caught my interest. That's what you're supposed to do, correct? Babble uselessly about things that you like so people will think you're all edgy-artsy-cool?

Sounds like fun to me!

The Stand was on SyFy today, and I started to watch it because I'm such a huge fan of the book and the Graphic Novel. (which is a phenomenal adaptation, by the way, I strongly suggest that everyone pick up a copy. It follows the book almost precisely, the art is beautiful, and something absolutely wonderful happened--I fell in love with the old, familiar characters all over again. It was like an anniversary, or some shit.)

Anyhow, I digress, I was watching the film with my boyfriend, who, though interested in the graphic novel, had not read the book. It was the first time that either of us had seen the film, as well, and we ended up changing the channel within the first half-hour, mainly because I was getting sick of explaining to him what was going on.

I don't blame him. Had I never read the book and was unfamiliar with the plot, that movie would have left me in the dust, as well.

I forgot how good the Romeo+Juliet soundtrack is.

What colour should I paint my toenails? Hmm.