Chapter 8: Editing

Cynthia had indicated that she would not give me a picture, but when I met her back at the studio, she relented. She even offered to help me choose one from the tapes. I took her up on that. Sitting next to her as we went through the four, half-hour, tapes was an experience I value. Neither of us touched the other, except purely by chance, but it did not matter. Having Cynthia present and the stimulation of jointly doing something was sufficient.

In the course of a four-hour session, we selected and cut hundreds of shots for further editing. In that time, we spent 5 minutes selecting my picture and I think my choice surprised her. In any event, Cynthia chose not to use her veto power. The frame was of her with her foot on the stool and her attention on the silk stocking she was rolling. She may have been pleased with the selection, but with her, I can never tell for sure. Even without the shot, it would be the enduring image in my mind.

Epilogue -- Work, Work, Work

The pictures used for the catalog were mostly of me. I went through them with Cynthia for an hour. Then, Peter and I spent another 10 hours choosing the exact shots and framing. Funny, we never seemed to clash after that shoot. What Peter did was pure art. Eventually, the selections were made and approved—Cynthia had a hellacious eye for this stuff too.

Peter performed digital magic and turned them all into 17th and 18th-century paintings, 19th-century daguerreotypes, and 1920s silent movie stills. About then, Justin finally emerged. He had candlelight pictures of the Marquis’ letter, readable size to arm’s length. It was easily the best work I had ever seen him do. After that, it was all downhill.

We used Justin’s shots as wallpaper for everything written or printed. We used shots of Cynthia and/or me for everything else, including the cover. The cover shot was of Cynthia leaning close and brushing my face with the crop; I still get chills. It has been showing up in picture-framing shops all over the east coast, and presumably elsewhere.

The exposure has jump-started my career. Becoming a model for Justin had been almost an afterthought. Within a week of the release of the catalog, Justin had dozens of offers to shoot me, usually specifying some form of restraint. Several other offers came directly to me, again to pose for similar shots. All were photographic, except for one artist who wanted to sculpt me nude. That was the one I took first.

Suddenly, all the offers were from artists. I posed nude, clothed, disrobing, and of course trussed. Media included paint, virtual paint, and several kinds of sculpture. After the first deluge of mail, Justin had to give up and move on to other things. Sean Richards suggested an agent: JD Mann, of Mann and Hartman. JD is very exclusive and is also one of Cynthia’s patrons. At his suggestion, I become the “Human Statue.”

The name is a bit much, but it expresses the nature of my posing. I am told, sessions of over an hour are rare. Whether posing for a painter or a sculptor, I usually go 4-5 hours before a break. For some reason, being frozen in place seems right to me now. It certainly has financial benefits, but what surprises me is what it has done for my sex life.

Everyone wants to fuck the model who posed for Prometheus Chained.