posted by sooyup
on
Looking back,
Pictures of Emm
When Emma was in her thirties, we were invited to dinner by a guy called Martin and his wife Vera. Martin was a manager in the factory where Emma worked as a clerk-typist. The invitation came out of the blue, but Emma refused to believe that there could be an ulterior motive. She continued in this naïve belief even when Martin started inviting himself round on Friday evenings when Vera was “out with the girls”. As I was a struggling student at the time, and Martin always brought a couple of bottles of wine, I was prepared to put up with his company, although we had nothing in common (apart from fancying Emma). One evening, having remarked on a formal portrait of Emma, the subject of photography was raised, and under the influence of the wine and while Emma was out of the room, I disclosed that I had taken many glamour shots, and even some more risqué images. After a few questions about technique, lighting, and so on, Martin asked if he could borrow my photofloods, reflectors, etc., for a couple of weeks. [To be continued.]
When Emma was in her thirties, we were invited to dinner by a guy called Martin and his wife Vera. Martin was a manager in the factory where Emma worked as a clerk-typist. The invitation came out of the blue, but Emma refused to believe that there could be an ulterior motive. She continued in this naïve belief even when Martin started inviting himself round on Friday evenings when Vera was “out with the girls”. As I was a struggling student at the time, and Martin always brought a couple of bottles of wine, I was prepared to put up with his company, although we had nothing in common (apart from fancying Emma). One evening, having remarked on a formal portrait of Emma, the subject of photography was raised, and under the influence of the wine and while Emma was out of the room, I disclosed that I had taken many glamour shots, and even some more risqué images. After a few questions about technique, lighting, and so on, Martin asked if he could borrow my photofloods, reflectors, etc., for a couple of weeks. [To be continued.]
