Red tape, so much red tape!

Building off my last post, I wanted to push the aspect of men crying. I asked myself who I would be most uncomfortable to see cry. My Dad. See, now, most daughters would say that I suppose but let me tell you a little something about my dad. He's a tough guy, made a career out of being in the Army, and was deployed to Kuwait when I four or five years old. Never once did he complain or show any sense of vulnerability. This is a guy that uses duct tape to close a cut on his hand and tells you to "walk it off". Now, don't get me wrong, he's a huge teddy bear and totally wrapped around my little finger as my mother would say. Having experienced my dad's "If you put that thing in my face one more time..." speech on more than one occasion, I knew he wouldn't be willing to actually model for me. So, what's the next best thing? The ROTC cadets at school!

Easier said than done. It took me two weeks to even get a hold of the Major at the school, then another week to actually meet him. He was super cooperative and really seemed to enjoy where my project was going. He introduced me to his Military Science class and let me tell the cadets about my project. When I told them I wanted to take pictures of them crying, one guy started laughing and another guy's mouth dropped to the floor. They were patient though, heard me out, and even asked questions. Surprisingly the ones that reacted the strongest were the ones willing to model.

Here's where the dreaded red tape comes in to play. I have to get my project approved by their Public Affairs Office (PAO). I wrote up a nice little statement telling them how, why, who. The Major said it could take weeks before they get back to us. Weeks. Weeks, that I don't have. So in the mean time I want to continue taking photos of regular men crying and to pair them with women screaming, or looking generally badass. I'm hoping that the PAO approves of my project and that I can begin photographing the cadets. Another waiting game.

A bit back logged

I feel a tad back logged with the blog, so I'll start where I left off. After I started this blog, and a discussion with a professor or two, I decided to apply for graduate school. I sent out five applications and recently had an interview with one. It was a frightening process. I kept asking myself "Is this ok?", "Does this make sense?", "Is my essay good enough?". I felt so under prepared for everything but I seemed to get everything in on time. Now it's just a waiting game.

Since last fall I've been working on a series of photographs. I wanted to deal with discomfort on many levels. First I wanted the viewer to be uncomfortable. Next I wanted my model to be uncomfortable. Finally, and rather surprisingly, I, myself was uncomfortable. I took portraits of fellow classmates crying. Yes, crying.

Now, a magician is never supposed to reveal his secrets. Good thing I'm not a magician, loose lips sink ships and all that. I used menthol, rubbed under the eyes, to induce tears. The effects were interesting to watch. My models got bright red, their eyes became bloodshot, and their noses became stuffy or started to run; all the classic symptoms of crying. Another curious effect was, each model said it felt as though they had just actually cried, emotionally. Some said they felt the release that sometimes follows a good cry, while others said they felt physically and mentally drained. Having also participated, I'd have to agree.

It was hard seeing my friends that I knew as generally happy people, crying. Though the most uncomfortable aspect was that it was hardest watching the males cry. This got me thinking about how our society views men as the strong, dominate forces, while women are the weak, vulnerable ones. I want to continue playing off these gender rolls, by switching what our society deems as the acceptable traits.