Naughty Biceps

He may look innocent enough. But underneath that sweet exterior is a man fraught with all sorts of naughtiness. At a recent festival, Bicep’s naughtiness got the best of him.

And, Biceps got into trouble. Real trouble.

The show was at midday with all sorts of promise. The best thing about a midday show is the ability to photograph the band well lit.

Another bonus to a midday show is the ability to go to bed at a decent hour and not have slumber party stomach the entire next day.

But, I digress. I wanted to tell you about Biceps’ naughtiness. See the back of this lady’s head who is sitting side stage, far right in the picture?

All heck is about to break loose.

Biceps precariously climbed up onto these speakers for a dramatic emphasis during the set.
There’s a man in the back of the shot with wispy hair, and he is rather concerned and alerts side-stage lady .

Oblivious, Biceps rocks on.
Until the side stage lady weaves her way past the drummer-during the song-points her finger at Biceps and tells him to get down. Tisk, tisk!

Naughty Biceps…I don’t think he was very happy about being chastised by a mother figure during his cool guy rock and roll show.
But, we laugh about it now. Or at least I do.

A Mysterious Maize Maze

The parental units were in town recently And since all four of their spawn reside in Tulsa, they had a full schedule trying to keep up with all of us.
The spawn decided to try and make it easy for the units-they’re old and get confused easily.
With the spawn’s spouses in tow, we all converged simultaneously on a pumpkin patch, situated very much south of town.

My sweet sis-in-law and mother of the four boys, paid for all of us to enter the ‘Mysterious Maize Maze’.
That isn’t the name of the maze, but that is was what I called it. The name reminded me of a Nancy Drew book title. Ah…Nancy….

Now, the city folk would call this a ‘corn maze’. Which is technically true-maize is corn, but not the kind you are thinking of. So, to be technical, it’s a Maize Maze. I just added the ‘Mysterious’.

Biceps, my Iowan farm boy, made sure we all knew this wasn’t something you would throw on your grill. You make sorghum from this stuff, which is a deep, rich, molassesy type substance my pop-in-law loves on his cornmeal pancakes.

This guy would probably never try sorghum. And I am referring to the tall one, not the short one.

I’m not sure the little guy would either.
The little guy does love weaponry, however. He made a gun instantly from the maize canes. I had a few strikes to the shin that made me second guess my whole stance on little boys and guns.

And then a few strikes to the arm, elbow, back and side made me second guess my stance, once more. I suppose I deserved the beat down from the elf, since I scared the tar out of him, hiding from him in the mysterious maize.
I don’t call it ‘Mysterious’ for nuthin’.

An Indian Engagement

Other than watching a few Bollywood movies, my knowledge of the Indian culture is slim. I know I like the food, the hookah and the nose rings. And that’s about all that I know.
Recently, I had been invited to photograph the engagement ceremony for one young Indian couple.
The experience left me wanting more of my family in my own life.

Americans are independent and proud of it; to a point of loneliness and depression.

This bride-to-be’s family was ‘all up in her business’. They were a part of the entire ceremony-from decorating the ballroom, to dressing her, to planning and organizing the event and pretty much anything else a family member could do to make her day special.

Her mother and her aunt literally spent hours putting her veil on in just the right way. These women were very patient…even when the men begin calling every five minutes to say the guests were hungry.
Men.

The bride-to-be wears an intricately decorated scarlet dress to the engagement party-as traditional as our white dresses on our wedding day. She looked like a foreign queen.
I want to be a foreign queen.

She was then escorted into the ballroom, surrounded by her family and protected from anything that might ruin her day.
I can’t wait to see what the families will come up with for the actual wedding a year from now.
It’s going to be quite the party…and I love parties….

(There are two more series along with this shoot: a Henna Ritual and the Indian Ceremony)

Rockin’ Out-Okie Style

Right before I met Biceps, I was preparing to move to Colorado in order to pursue a life of rock climbing, white water rafting, tent living and armpit hair growing.
However, the good Lord knew what was best for me-and my armpits. He sent along a tattooed rock and roller who caught my eye and sealed my Oklahoma fate.
He works in mysterious ways.

And He’s omniscient. He knew my desires and provided for me (and a few others) a natural craggy formation to satisfy my rock climbing needs.

Biceps and I like to load up on coffee early in the morning and then drive out to Chandler Park, which lies west of Tulsa.

The available climbing areas are pretty tame compared to what I was attempting to climb in Colorado.
I will reiterate the word, ‘attempting’. I would not have impressed anyone with my ‘skills’.

This photo is a an example of terrible rock climbing form-by yours truly.
Don’t judge. My toes were still getting used to being back in pointy rubber shoes that feel as if they are approximately two sizes too small.

I mean, look at the size of these things.

Even Biceps whines about putting his rock climbing shoes on. But, don’t tell him I told you that.

I’m still in trouble with him for doing this.