The Sensual Portrait
People come to us, not just because we create a comfortable zone of sanctuary, but because very quickly our clients realize that we can be trusted with such a personal gift ... the Gift of Self.
Our sessions are about mood, sensuality, passion and erotisim.
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The Spell of the Sensuous
Environmental Portraiture
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The Box Under the Stairs
If you pop in and you’ve obviously put some effort
into impresing us we’ll likely see how you fit
in the box under the stairs ... and if you’d
like a print (framed or not) from that moment, you can deduct 25% from these prices.
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Spontaneous Portaiture in Confined Spaces
We play a game. You can get in the box, climb on the box, share the box ... your body, hands and feet just can't touch the concrete floor under the box. "Think of the floor as molten lava. You'll get burned." AS you can see, some folks got burned.
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Wendy
Our style of photography and portraiture requires the baring of one’s inner self MORE SO than of one’s Outer self.
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The Irish Girl
We expect you to come to the shoot with a willingness to bare your soul. Every body is beautiful, but that beauty can only truly be manifested in a photograph when the subject is willing to bare their inner soul.
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This Land is Your Land
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Communication Breakdown
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Let the Right One In
Most people assume that Intimate/Erotic Photography is about Nudity with or without Sex, and that for such imagery to be ‘good’ the subjects somehow need to be like the ideal we see on TV and in publications. All too often we’ll hear, “I’d love to do this but I just need to go to the gym for a month or two first.” I’ll tell you that while there is certainly nothing wrong about going to the gym,
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When People Come Knocking
Unlike hackneyed Halloween scenes, there was not an unrelenting thunder storm to seek shelter from. We were invited to attend a party, but the entire street appeared deserted. On a lark, I rapped lightly and the heaving door immediately swung open. "Welcome! Everyone's gone home, but come on in and let's take some pictures!" With reckless temerity, we proceeded into the mystic den as the maestro wielded photography paraphernalia from across the room. He asked that we lounge about the fur swagged divan as he cued in hypnotic music and plied us with sanguine spirits. Was this the yet to be made sequel to the Human Centipede? Were all the jokes of ATM coming to bite us in poetic justice fashion?
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the DEGENERATES
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