This weekend I finally had the opportunity to have the photoshoot I have dreamed of for some time, which included a couple of important logistical issues – like finding a place to dig a shallow grave, and arranging a time in near-winter where it wasn’t too cold to lie in it.
In this photoshoot, I’m styled in cowboy inspired clothes much like I wore as a kid equestrian, but styled up a little to my modern tastes. There’s a little bit of a narrative to the photos, so I hope you enjoy it!
The photography in this shoot is by John W. Sheldon, and myself and Jennifer Hill (a.k.a. Jaydot from Shop Jaydot) are the models. The shoot was conceived by me, styled largely by me, and planned by me and John. It is extremely meaningful to me, and I am super grateful I was able to experience it. This may be highly pretentious, but it is very special!
The Resurrection of Beau
Autumn is the season where death comes, the trees and plants retreating to be renewed in spring.
A grave dug well leaves room for time, but a shallow one is all too easy to uncover.
Before the blood cools, the cowboy is still, a vision of life, but unable to draw breath.
Their eyes never closed during the sleep of night, during this day’s death they flutter open, taking in the cold, bitter light.
Their own light threatens to leave them, shining from their countenance as a rival to the sun.
Frozen in the ground, barely six inches under, they were left in a shallow grave and without enough care to be covered in the clay that stuck to their boots.
Their legacy lies dead overhead, shining but dark, and now nothing but a relic for remembrance.
Abandoned in their unfinished grave, they are still and the last sparks of memory begin to sputter, not yet extinguished.
Snowflakes fall on their face, and leaves fall around them. The light could fade, but…
…it doesn’t have to. A vision appears with the bubble of laughter.
The cowboy’s dance may not be over just yet, and this vision who has appeared is brimming with life.
They reach out a hand to the cowboy, a beacon in the cold.
The cowboy reaches back, resisting the pull of the earth.
The blood may take time to quicken, but together they raise the corpse to stand.
The vision is pleased, and emanates warmth. The cowboy, staggers and steadies, grateful.
The cowboy dusts off the grave and the past, ready to breathe.
They down a dose of hesitation as they prepare to don their hat, but the vision has more confidence.
With a smile, they realize you only die once. At least, that’s what people say.
Exhumed and on their feet, they breathe in the autumn air.
They tip their hat to the vision and turn their back to the shallow grave.
They walk away and don’t look back on their death, or the cold ground that held them to it.
Later, in a quiet corner, they hear someone say, “Can you imagine being at your own funeral? What would that be like?”
They hold back a smile.
Life after death was going to be interesting.
I hope you enjoyed this little adventure! <3
Photos © John W. Sheldon, models: Beau Jágr Sheldon & Jennifer Hill.