A Poem About Lady Baglady “It only takes three doctors,” says Lady Baglady, “to make you disappear.” For the rest of your natural life. Lady Baglady onstage, her legs are waxed smooth. Her eyelashes, dyed thick-black. Her teeth bleached bright as her pearls. Her skin, massaged. Her diamond ring flashes, lighthouse-bright. Her linen suit, first pinned and chalked, then tucked and trimmed until it will fit no one else in the world. All of her, a monument to sitting still while a team of trained experts toiled long and hard, for a lot of money. Onstage, instead of a spotlight, a movie fragment: A veil of women dragging fur coats. The feeling of silk settles over her face. On film, the armor of gold and platinum jewelry, warning you with the red flash of rubies and canary-yellow sapphires. Lady Baglady says, “It’s no fun, having a genius for a father.” Or a mother or husband or wife, ask anyone. Anyone rich. Still, she says, it only takes three doctors . . . Thanks to the Think Tank Sanitarium. “Really brilliant people,” she says, “they’re really most-happy, being . . . fully committed.” If Thomas Edison were alive. Madame Curie. Albert Einstein. Their husbands, wives, sons, daughters would all sign the necessary paperwork. In an instant. “To protect their income stream,” says Lady Baglady. That flow of money from fees and royalties for patents and inventions. The veil of spa treatments and pedicures, charity balls and opera boxes, wiping Lady Baglady’s smooth face, she says, “My own father included. For his own good.” “He was . . . acting out,” she says. “Seeing a younger woman. Wearing a toupee.” Not sharing the income from his product line. Neglecting his work. So—three doctors later—there he is: With all the other genius inventors. Behind locked doors. Without telephones. For the rest of his natural life. From inside her veil of private islands . . . horse shows . . . estate auctions, Lady Baglady says, “The acorn never does fall far.” She says, “We’re all . . . some kind of genius. “Just,” she says, “some of us in other ways.” Exerpted from Haunted by Chuck Palahniuk Haunted is a 2005 novel by Chuck Palahniuk. The plot is a frame story for a series of 23 short stories, most preceded by a free verse poem. Each story is followed by a chapter of the main narrative, is told by a character in main narrative, and ties back into the main story in some way. I have decided to make a series of portraits of each of the 19 characters in this book. The title quote is the first line of each character's story and the description is each character's poem. The portraits are my personal interpretation to the words of the book.

Kassie asked me to shoot an advertising campaign that she needs for an assignment in college. The idea was to make Kraft cheese advertising seem elegant. This is the shot we have decided to run with.