Sep 25, 2011

I know why the caged bird sings

my less than successful (apparently) Parisian foray into the studio was a bittersweet reminder of why I love shooting on location so much. And even though teasing the crap out of that hair made me feel much closer to God and undoubtedly satisfied my astrological compulsion for doing everything myself, I might actually need to find a team to keep this dodgy little caravan going.

Inquire within, I guess

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