They’re so cute. Especially when they’re licking the blood off the bars.

This lady is so on top of her game. She’s all aplomb and the ability to shuck off any one else’s business. This is forward thinking at it’s most innocent. I duly take note.

Our baby Mette is baby no more. Are we casting her into the sea at large as she goes forth, a little bug eye’d, into Grade school proper? She’s been at the school with her sister for two years already in the kindergarden so she’s fully primed to be there. But this is a new class for her, a new beginning, 1st Grade, something she knows is big, larger than her, perhaps a bit beyond her total control and domination, and she found her name at a table full of boys. My heart broke for her because I rarely see her scared. And she wasn’t scared. The reserve and determination were so acute on her face that I felt she must be made of steel and stone. There before me was all my Hemingway Grace Under Pressure and all her mom’s full bore Type-A rule the world and force them into submission coolness in this little package of white chiffon tutu she’s picked out for the big occasion.

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Another good day shooting Lisa, always good shooting her. She is on fire, particularly now. She’s taken on the job of mastering her media in several different mediums. And while she is model and gymnast and celebrity before my lens, before my eyes she is eternally punk rock peacock. And in the junk pile out behind the castle she lives in up by the Hollywood sign, with cameras whirring all around us, she stomped down in those checked heal and firmly kicked ass.