Tag: nude

Posted on by maxwelldcollect

[Natalia Obradovicova | ph. Robert Voltaire]

In the words of Robert Voltaire:

It’s early morning.

You’ve driven an hour to reach the model’s apartment. You call her.

There’s no answer.

You wait for 30 minutes and you call again.

There’s no answer.

You drive an hour home.

The model’s agent calls you and asks you to drive back. They love your work and plead with you to shoot her.

You agree and drive back.

When you arrive, you call the model.

There is no answer.

You call the agency and they call the model. They apologize and say the model fell back asleep.

They beg you to wait for thirty more minutes.

Finally, she shows up, disheveled, grousing about the night before.

You say to her, “Stop whining. Today is a new day.”

She looks at you with her deep blue stare, nonplussed.

Your day may not have gotten off to the best start, but it is all up from here.

You will take charge.

You will create a new friend and new work.

Posted on by maxwelldcollect

[Brianna Stone | ph. Robert Voltaire]

In the words of Robert Voltaire:

You are sitting in front of her. She is standing.

She slips off her thin cotton dress and discards it on the sand.

You lower your eyes and wait until she is ready to pose. You don’t do this because you are uncomfortable looking at her. You do this because you don’t need to look at her. You lose yourself for a moment in a quiet reserve, a place where you often disappear to before you work.

She clears her throat. She is ready now.

You absorb the qualities that you like about her. She has thick brown hair and kind, seductive eyes.

You see everything.

You lie back against a rock and she towers above you, this bronzed goddess, this womanly figure completely open to your direction.

You will have to work quickly. It is freezing outside.

The weather and time constraint doesn’t bother you. You know the shoot will be amazing. You’ve done this before.

This is your job and you’re good at it.

Posted on by maxwelldcollect

[Brittany Clay | ph. Robert Voltaire]

In the words of Robert Voltaire:

She is blonde.

You may have seen her in the streets, in a story, in a film or in your mind.

She may be the one you were dreaming about. The one that kept you up at night.

She would tell you there is no God. She would know that one fact to be true.

She would know that because she believes she is all knowing as you did when you were young.

You may or may not share her beliefs.

Years later you would see her again.

You would photograph after the passing of her father.

She would tell you the story of a butterfly.

It’s the butterfly that her father promised. That deep and powerful representation of his life. The one that he said would land on her shoulder after his passing.

She would tell you that it happened, exactly like he said it would before he died.

“A monarch butterfly will come to you and land on your shoulder. Don’t cry for me. I will continue to watch over you long after I am gone,” he said.

She produces a cigarette. She’s nervous. Her hands are shaking.

She would tell you she was wrong. That this singular experience changed her belief in God.

You might believe her. You might think she is crazy.

It doesn’t matter what you think.

She says this cigarette is her last.

It doesn’t really matter if it is or not. Her intention is to quit.

The cigarette dangles from her lips, unlit.

You’re tempted not to take the photograph of what you see.

This girl. This almost muse. This person who quietly looks to you for comfort.

You want to keep this moment for you and you alone.

But, the beauty of her profile overwhelms you and you decide to take the picture.

Later you will share it.