Onyx comes through near black haze to reveal a true deep black that buries itself deep in the endless distance. She wears it on the tip of her nails; she drapes her lips in a frosting of sensual delights and it warms her. Burning colors like an August sunset, her face flushes with pinks, oranges, and reds.
I'm definitely riding that edge of fashion/advertisement photography aesthetic that I get accused of from time to time. Guilty as charged. Although, I really wonder why when people accuse me of this, they equate it to the equivalency of murder. I could see how someone could become frustrated with me and my work if I was oblivious to what I was creating. But I'm not, but regardless the debate continues.
See my next work of art before anyone else: [link]
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