Jordan Chaney {poet, artist, philanthropist}

A year and a half ago, an extremely talented poet, Jordan Chaney, contacted me about doing a headshot for his new book, Double-Barreled Bible, and cd, "Mighty Peasant". With only a year into my photography, I was shocked, and beyond thrilled that someone so talented believed my work was good enough to be published. You know that moment, the moment when you actually start believing your work IS good enough, that was the moment for me. To this day, I'm so grateful for the opportunity, it shined a light on my work, and made me see what I was unable to see. Sometimes, it takes someone else to notice something special, before you start noticing it yourself. I was and still am so honored and humbled, to be able to work alongside such a talented poet, artist, philanthropist, and now friend.

Last year, Jordan was given his own poetry column on Winepress Northwest in which the headshot was also featured in each of the magazines quarterly issue.

I can't gush enough about how amazingly talented he is. It's transparent that he has a genuine love for the arts, and his way with words, magical -- he puts it all together so exquisitely! If you love art and poetry, I would urge you to check out his website and his work at Billowingwords.com.

As for the images, they were taken last year at Barnes and Noble for Jordan's book signing event where he was featured as the author of the month. Thought I'd share a style that is more photojournalistic, not at all what my clients and fans are use to seeing from me. And the bonus, a taste of what I'm talking about in regards to beauty in words, a piece Jordan wrote featured in Winepress Northwest Magazine, "Ode to Grape". Enjoy!


Ode to Grape

I have a crush
on you
you beautiful bulbous
berry of the gods
you galaxy of dark blue stars
you plump and precious bottle of Pinot Noir

I simply adore you

you sometimes gorgeous green thing
drooping a thousand times from paintings
always nude and next to tulips the Pinot Gris
on your two lips puts the kiss in kismet
it's serendipitous the way we have come together

mighty migrant workers
are up to their shins in mud
are sweating in the sun
are plucking darkened rubies
all for my tongue
getting paid in pesos
to slave away
for my fair love

you are endless without edges
a purple pearled necklace
with a cluster of cleavage
dangling beneath it
a scarlet goddess
robed in a red dress
sagging on the vine
marauding my fantasies
every midnight
when the sky light is Merlot-like

I love the way you
bat your lashes at me
while layered in lingerie
then splash into my cup
like purple rain and
climax when you pass
my tongue and come
into long stemmed glasses
you look like a pin-up doll
showing off your legs & back
making my heart patter
fast and then faster
until my pulse comes completely
unfastened

alas

you are crimson
a succubus
a full-bodied Jezebel
who has had
everybody's filthy hands on you
from train hopping hobos
to snobs with mountains of dollar bills
you've slept in crates
in dirt fields next to windmills
in alleys next to burning barrels
and even in sheets woven
from the finest of silks

but I don't care about
your cheap past
and how you were
stepped on daily
how your delicate skin
was been beaten and smashed
or when you lived in boxes
with both eyes blue & black
to me you are still a rose that grew
from history's trash

my love is unconditional

you are both the Mother Teresa

and Mary Magdalene of all the fruits
a noble truth serum with heavenly
roots and Sauvignon rivers

flowing bright though your veins
turning tongues into pure silver
a miracle you're like magic
a mystic once summoned you

from a glass of water

to make men meek

you put the vine in divine

and now my mind is an aimless
cork afloat a placid sea

sacred grape to saintly mate

hallowed be thy taste
Ms. Holy water if you please

I love you

because when I was sour

when my heart was withering
away like a raisin in the sun

when every part of me shattered asunder
and I was picking up the pieces
all over the streets

you stood by in the countryside
waiting for me to mature
and then cherry-blossomed into my life

singing a song of dreams of tomorrows

and swept all of my sorrows away

I want you to know that

sitting on the couch with you

is enough for me
we can watch the sun
melt like gold into the hills

we can imagine that the

sun is sinking into the earth

impregnating her with
 our hopes and with our dreams
we can watch as she gives

birth as the harvest
ripens and comes forth

and brings our visions
full circle back into being
and so when we toast we'll know
that our souls are swallowing
their own dream

By Jordan Chaney

Check out Billowingwords.com for more about Jordan and his poetry.