Diary: Why I bought a 38

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38 Holstered. Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2018. Model: Sandy Ward
 

Photography and Text by Tony Ward, Copyright 2018
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38 HOLSTERED

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Back in the early 90’s, my wife and I were visiting friends at a party in Vineland, New Jersey, about an hours drive from our studio in center city Philadelphia when my cell phone rang.  It was a neighbor in our building on 6th street informing me that our apartment had been broken into and police were called to investigate.  I was shocked at first never before was I violated in such a personal way. Sandy (my wife at the time) and I immediately drove home speeding up 42 North towards the Walt Whitman Bridge. By the time of our arrival home the building was silent, no police in sight,  just a vague description from a neighbor that they saw a man with a tape player in his hand hastily walking down the fire escape and out the back door of the building.

When I entered the apartment from the garage, the rear door exiting to the fire escape was closed but not locked. There was no clear sign of a break in. Not a scratch on the door or a crowbar left behind. It raised serious questions as to who could have entered the loft without breaking in? A few things were missing; change that I left on the burrow of my bedroom, my fathers antique watch that he gave me when I was in college, the new tape player that I just bought was missing.  All of the wires connecting it to the rest of the stereo equipment was strewn about. My mind started to imagine and search for who the perpetrator could be? Was it one of my employee’s some of whom did have a key?

The next day I drove up to my father’s house in Elkins Park and asked him to go with me to a gun shop that I knew was straight up 611 just before you get to the Willow Grove mall. We parked out in front of the nondescript place, walked in and began pacing up and down the cases looking for the best way to comfort my fear of the break in. Thoughts of Clint Eastwood’s Dirty Harry came to mind.  I also recalled when I used to go out in the back woods with my roommate in college to practice shooting at tin cans with his 44 Magnum until one day he cracked the barrel by overpacking the bullets. The store’s salesman convinced me I didn’t need anything that large. The 38 Rossi was an adequate means of protecting my home in the event of another break in when I was home or worse home with my wife and children. I became a regular at the shooting range and eventually learned how to pack my own hollow point bullets.

Fortunately, I have never had to use it other than to enjoy the cheap thrill of being able to hit a target from a certain distance. Nowadays folks go out and buy an AR15 for similar reasons. Somehow I think that is a bit over kill.

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To access additional diary entries by Tony Ward, click herehttp://tonywarderotica.com/diary-portrait-of-a-jersey-girl/

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About The Author: Tony Ward is a fine art photographer, author, blogger, publisher and Adjunct Professor of Photography at the University of Pennsylvania. 

Portrait of Tony Ward by Ed Simmons, Copyright 2018
Portrait of Tony Ward by Ed Simmons, Copyright 2018

Alexandra Rouvet Duvernoy: Trumpisms – Commentary by A.H. Scott

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Artwork  by Alexandra Rouvet Duvernoy, Copyright 2018
 

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Illustrations by Alexandra Rouvet Duvernoy, Copyright 2018

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Commentary by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2018

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Alexandra’s astonishing image made my brain tick-tock about how people sometimes get what they deserve. And, of course, those who heralded the man of orange bought the ticket he was selling and now they”re in the same hellhole of his madness that the rest of us are in. This is “The Price Of The Ticket For A Honeymoon in Hell” and WE ALL are paying it…in tears….and for some, in cheers….. Mr. and Mrs. America got EXACTLY what they asked for – TUNE IN, FREAK OUT, GET BEATEN!

“No sympathy for the devil; keep that in mind. Buy the ticket, take the ride…and if it occasionally gets a little heavier than what you had in mind, well….maybe chalk it up to forced consciousness expansion: Tune in, freak out, get beaten” – Hunter S. Thompson (“Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”, 1971)

THE PRICE OF THE TICKET FOR A HONEYMOON IN HELL

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When he drooled like a junkyard dog, “What the Hell do you have to lose?!”

She thought it was cute and charming to her ears and let her common sense snooze

And, now shackled to that mad rat of lies she now must pay for what she decided to choose

Missy America batted her lashes without surprise, as he slimed Mexicans, McCain, Muslims and more

She said, “They are the other and me as a real American is what he adores”

Willingly she was as he came a callin’ with a Barnumesque yawn

Yet, now the damnable reality has started to dawn

Now, it’s her turn to be in for a spine-chilling shock 

Dearly disheveled we are gathered here today

The doors are sealed and guarded, so none contained within these walls can get away 

Tyrannical misogyny makes his soul drool

Would be easy to call him a fool

Let’s go for a few words more complicated and cool 

Will this madness ever cease?

Never shall it be, for Lucifer is whom he has to please

Missy America was seduced by his bravado

She figured how bad could he possibly be

He promised me a wall to keep me safe

And, an economy that would make me feel ever so great

He even said, I would be the way of great once again

How bad could he be?

What kind of pain could he possibly inflict?

The answer is dainty n’ dear Missy, “This is the rat you decided to pick!”

Not so pure she may be

Yet, compared to his intentions, she is virginal evergreen

Man with crest of bleached sheet upon his head said in a growl, “Do you take this Miss?”

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Artwork by Alexandra Rouvet Duvernoy, Copyright 2018

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Portrait of Alexandra Rouvet Douvernoy at Hotel Regina, Paris. Photo: Tony Ward
Portrait of Alexandra Rouvet Douvernoy at Hotel Regina, Paris. Photo: Tony Ward
 

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About The Artist: Alexandra Rouvet Duvernoy is an artist who specializes in pen and ink drawings.  She also is a model and muse of Tony Ward. She currently resides in her native France.

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About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by A. H. Scott, go herehttp://tonywardstudio.com/blog/h-scott-follow-ruble-road/

 

Diary: Portrait of a Jersey Girl

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Alison: In her Bedroom
 

Photography and Text by Tony Ward, Copyright 2018

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ALISON

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I first met Alison at a print shop in Old City, Philadelphia where I used to have custom prints made.  Alison happened to be an employee of the place and I recall seeing her at first behind a computer looking quite busy fixing a customers photograph by using various Photoshop tools at her disposal.  We became more acquainted when she was assigned to edit one of my photos in preparation for an exhibition of my work.  I liked the results and she became the go to person at the printer whenever I needed anything done.  

One day I visited the print shop and was taken by her striking beauty as it was the Spring and she was wearing a short sheer dress with little to no makeup. I immediately transformed Alison in my mind as one of my new models for a project that required the subject wear Victoria’s Secret lingerie.  Since we were already quite friendly and familiar she agreed to model for me at her home just over the Tacony Palmyra Bridge in New Jersey.  She also mentioned that I could select a number of different options from her wardrobe since she was a Victoria’s Secret customer. The casting couldn’t have been more perfect.

When I arrived at her door on the day of the shoot,  she greeted me wearing a simple bath robe slightly open which revealed her beautiful bust line and a well toned figure. As I entered the charming home Alison proceeded to give me a tour of the various rooms we could shoot in. Then we entered the last room of the tour, her tastefully appointed boudoir like master bedroom.  That is where we began this series of memorable pictures. 

To see more intimate pictures of the sitting with Alison, become a Club Member, enjoy the benefits, click herehttp://tonywarderotica.com/category/membership-account/

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To access additional Diary entries, click herehttp://tonywarderotica.com/diary-hannah-heidi/

 

Bob Shell: Letters From Prison 2018 #4

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Shutterbug Magazine
 

 

Letters From Prison: Part 4, 2018

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Letters by Bob Shell, Copyright 2018

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Let me talk a bit about what happened to me, particularly because something similar could happen to almost anyone in today’s America. The year was 2003 and I was at the top of my game. In 2001 I had been “retired” from my long-time job as Editor of the photography magazine Shutterbug. Rather than force me out altogether, which would have looked bad to the photo industry, they made me Editor At Large, cut my pay to less than half, but on the bright side they freed me from my contractual obligation to write articles only for them. So I began writing regularly for Rangefinder (edited then by my old friend Bill Hurter), Professional Photographer, Photo Electronic Imaging, Photo Techniques, Digital Camera, Zoom, and several others domestically. I continued to do product reviews for BestStuff.com (who also put together the Gadget Guru segments for NBC’s Today Show). Plus I was writing photo books for Lark Books, a division of Barnes & Noble, working as a consultant for National Geographic on their photo guides, and writing some product instructions for Kodak (if you have a Kodak Gray Card, those are my instructions). I also wrote a section of a book on how to use light meters for Sekonic.

I was happy, working on personal photo projects in my studio in Radford, Virginia. People used to ask why I lived in a small town, and I always answered that it was the lower cost of everything. I was able to have a large studio for peanuts, and since I very rarely did anything for local clients I did not have to scrounge for local business to support myself.

Everything was going great and I was working on photos for a book that was a departure for me, a book of photos of erotic bondage. The book was the idea of Marion Franklin, my girlfriend and chief model. She had the idea and I sold it to a publisher. (The book, Erotic Bondage: Art of Rope came out in 2004 under my pseudonym Edward Lee, a pseudonym I’d used since 1993 for my overseas work — Not really so much a pseudonym, since my full name is Robert Edward Lee Shell).

I’d never really done any bondage photography prior to the summer of 2002 when I did a shoot with bondage pro Maria Shadoes and a friend of hers who was also heavily into bondage, and we played at it a bit. Later I did some with Elkie Cooper, one of my favorite models that I’d photographed for years, ever since she turned 18. She’d gotten onto bondage and had worked for some very fine photographers, including Lee Higgs, whose book Generation Fetish was a favorite of mine.

On June 3, 2003 my world came crashing down. Marion and I had worked all day with Maria Shadoes and her boyfriend Lew Rubens, both bondage pros who spent the day teaching me ties and safety procedures. I’d never had a model injured during a photo shoot and wanted to make sure it never happened. Maria and Marion were our subjects and Lew did some elaborate ties and suspensions with them. I wanted a record of everything, so I took many still photos and also set a video camera up on a tripod to record everything. I’d developed a habit of setting up a video camera and recording all studio shoots.

After we finished for the day we were all bushed. Marion went to sleep on the studio bed, Maria and Lew left for the day, and I walked down the block to the Sonic to get some food, since I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I was gone maybe half an hour and came back to the studio to set things up for a shoot planned for the next day. After a while when I walked by the bed I couldn’t hear Marion snoring (she always snored softly) and tried to wake her up. She would not respond, so I freaked out and ran to the phone and called 911. That’s when my nightmare began. To be continued…….

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About The Author: Bob Shell is a professional photographer, author and former editor in chief of Shutterbug Magazine. He is currently serving a 35 year sentence at Pocahontas State Correctional Center, Pocahontas, Virginia for involuntary manslaughter for the death of Marion Franklin, one of his former models. Mr. Shell is serving the 11th year of his sentence. To read more letters from prison by Bob Shell, click herehttp://tonywarderotica.com/bob-shell-letters-prison-2018-3/