I think I bought a soul machine today in among the lipstick and the lingerie, the stockings and the twisted silver. An unexpected purchase, to be sure. It’s insinuated under my skin and it smiles at me when I look at it. I’m real today. I found a glass slipper and filled it, someone walked into a bus-stop when they saw me. A stranger, I almost stopped to help them up, then didn’t. Instead I smiled and pretended not to see.
I’ve never bought make-up before, I never thought I knew what to do with it. There was always the suspicion that these powders would be terrific fun, it’s nice to be justified. In spite of myself, I seem to have succeeded. I only pray that I might do as nice as a job for my photoshoot this week, when I don’t have the stunningly amazing shop women standing over my shoulder, reminding me the tricks of the trade. It’s easy though, it’s like dry paint. I know how to paint, though I hardly admit it and could never make pictures. With practice, I could get good at this. Suddenly, getting paid for modeling seems less as an amusement and more of a way to fund the pretty colours I can’t really afford.
I have another shoot as well this week, a more familiar set-up. I’m being paid to be a photographer. Tomorrow evening I’m being called into a rather expensive home studio to take shiny pictures of the equipment. Insurance proofs at $20/hour.