Ava May does a spontaneous, improvised dance. And though it’s not perfect, it still came out so good that I edited it into a complete finished video.
Model: Ava May
Ava May does a spontaneous, improvised dance. And though it’s not perfect, it still came out so good that I edited it into a complete finished video.
Model: Ava May
Even a short time spent in a forest can change you and restore your soul. Breathe it in. Dance to its subtle rhythm. Let its underlying structure reset your mind. It is where nature reigns free. Beautiful and dangerous. Nurturing and hostile. A reminder of the primordial and ever-changing game of survival.
Crystal in Congregation of Potato People. Model: Crystal A
In the Church of the Tuber, where spuds convene,
A congregation of potato people, a sight unseen.
Their eyes, like russet orbs, fixed on the sacred ground,
As they gather in reverence, in silence profound.
Starch-filled hearts beat in unison, a tater’s devotion,
In pews of mashed delight, a tuberous emotion.
The pulpit adorned with skins, a priestly spud ascends,
Preaching the gospel of the harvest, where the potato life transcends.
But amid the devout, a stranger unknown,
A beauty in disguise, a presence all her own.
She, an outsider, a radiant yam,
In the sea of potatoes, a singular glam.
Her skin, a golden hue, not of earthly soil,
A sweet fragrance of difference, a celestial foil.
Yet, she hides among them, a secret delight,
In the congregation’s eyes, a clandestine light.
The potato people, unaware of her grace,
Continue their worship in the starchy space.
But the outsider listens, absorbing their prayer,
In the silence of tubers, a connection rare.
As the sermon concludes, and the congregation disbands,
The outsider reveals herself, a rose in the lands.
The potatoes, astonished, yet welcoming still,
In this diverse church, love trumps the thrill.
For in the Church of the Tuber, diversity blooms,
In the richness of differences, unity looms.
Potato people and yams, together they stand,
In the spud-filled sanctuary, hand in hand.
The first time I heard the word “Id” was in one of my all-time favorite movies, “Forbidden Planet,” where the ancient, long-extinct, inhabitants of the faraway planet (the “Krell”), had developed a massive machine that could physically manifest one’s psychic energy into all kinds of wonderful things. But, when it tapped into that dark, subconscious part of our mind called the Id, the Krell machine manifested super-powerful, uncontrollable, scary monsters. Quite a cool and intriguing concept for my 13-year-old mind!
In addition to introducing me to the concept of the “Id” (and inspiring a lifelong love of science fiction), the movie also fired up another part of my brain–the libido (though I did not learn the word until much later). The barefoot, half-naked, Anne Francis, skinny-dipping in her idyllic garden, sent my young hormones raging. I thought I would have a little fun here and give a one-frame cameo to the lovely Lareina Tay. After all, if Dr. Morbius, alone on the planet for all those years with just his daughter, could manifest a living, breathing, pet tiger for her, is there any doubt that he would manifest some pets of his own?