Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
not a client was stirring, not even to grouse.
The CDs were burned and shipped with consideration,
in hopes that the photos would earn remuneration.
The staff they were nestled all snug in their homes,
with visions of days off, reading their tomes.
and I wearing both the kerchief and chaps,
had just settled down to write about business mishaps.
When out in the studio there arose such a clatter,
I sprung from my desk to see what was the matter.
Up the stairs that I took, two at a time,
I arrived in the studio with a curious find.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a colleague with keys and access so clear.
A studio strewn with clothes near and far,
and this colleague, why, they were shooting boudoir!
Boudoir in my studio, it just can't be,
I thought in my head as I looked on intently.
This studio is for food, and head-shots and such,
but I guess with that figure I don't mind very much.
The subject was beautiful, in their own very way,
and the scene quite professional, I certainly must say.
Nothing tawdry or lewd, just art being made,
the capturing of beauty before age makes it fade.
I thought of the scenes of products that sell,
that had been previously shot there, and shot quite well.
Yet nothing compares to the body, the form,
and the expression of a face, looking forlorn.
The focus was true, the light was just right,
the drive of my colleague was set to for a full night.
I knew that the work was not to diminish,
so I left my studio so the colleague could finish.
I considered my art, my creative fruitions,
yet my skills were lacking, I didn't know those positions.
I knew that some art was best left to others,
even if I had my own chaps, and my own druthers.
Late in the night, almost the morning,
I knew they were working on nothing boring.
As the sun rose, on the next day,
I decided there was little else I could say.
Yet an urge called for me, to say something,
as they packed up their props and their holiday bunting.
and all that there was that I think there to say,
I said to the colleague - "have a great day!"
You see, it's the truth, photography is art,
your present this Christmas day should be to give it a start.
Whether food or people, weddings or news,
Not following your passion could give you the blues.
So make tomorrow your day to begin,
not following your passion I think is a sin.
Yet focus on its' business all throughout,
and your spouse will have no reason to pout.
For you see it remains a reality you shouldn't flounce,
that your bills must be paid, or your checks they will bounce.
The business of art, it can be quite fickle,
but be careful or you'll get caught in a pickle.
- With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore (the original author of Twas the Night Before Christmas), and to you, dear reader, for the light number of postings this month. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.
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