'Pete is such a creative person and I felt doing the shoot at his place would be perfect. He lives in an older complex that had such a great feel to it, plants, decorated well, claw foot tub, beautiful lighting, I was in heaven.'
Some of you may remember Pete, and his work with Jim from Studio1x, when I first featured their work together this past Father's Day. (Pop of the Morning) In addition to checking out all of Pete, we also got to check out quite a bit of Pete's place. Jim utilized the light in many of the rooms in Pete's flat and both the bedroom and bathroom were featured in the first two pieces.
For this series of images, Pete gets comfortable, (aka naked) in his living room. It's not surprise Jim chose to shoot in this location, the room is circled in windows providing the glorious light that cascades over Pete's beautiful skin. With the many windows, the multitude of plants and the amazing light, I was reminded of a room I once spent a lot of time in.
FH readers know how important story is in the pieces I put together, and the room I remembered, was the central location in more than few life defining moments in the course of my own story. My panoramic light room wasn't a living room but a sunroom in a house that I rented when I was in my early twenties. I didn't rent it along, I co-signed a one year lease with the woman I was engaged with. Many of you may remember that story, I wrote about it at length in several different pieces in the site's first few years.
The year we lived together was one of the best, and one of the worst years of my life. It was the year I hurt someone badly, it was also the year I finally came out and began my life as needed to be lived. So much of both that pain and that joy manifested itself in the many hours I spent sitting our sunroom. Decisions were made, promises were broken, time-lines were negotiated and relationships were redefined.
It was also a room of safety. There's something special about a room that brings so much of the outside world in, but allows you to stay distanced, observing, but not really interacting. I drank my coffee every morning in that sunroom, and often drank a glass or red wine there in the evenings. I went in there to read, to work, to nap. Mostly though, I just went in there to sit and to think.
As I pondered my life, and the situation I was in, I often coped through distraction. The windows and light provided continuous visuals for mental breaks. People walking by, neighbours mowing lawns,
rain coming down in the spring, snow in the summer. I watched the cars go by and tensed up when first hearing, then seeing, my own car pull in the driveway.
We lived close to where I worked, so I usually walked. I left my car for her to take to work. Her arrival home always meant whatever I was thinking about, whatever I was distracting myself with, was coming to an end. I always then got up, and went into the living room. We never really fought or discussed heavy issues in the sunroom. Although I thought heavy thoughts there, I think we both knew, the sunroom was off limits for the many difficult conversations we had over the course of that year.
Despite how difficult that time was, I miss that house, that sunroom and the woman I lived there with. We remained friends for quite a few years, I even became the God Father of her first child. Eventually though, we drifted apart and communication these days is the odd e-mal on holidays.
Looking back, I do regret that unlike Pete, I didn't spend any time naked in my sunroom. Our neighbours were close, and with all the windows, it would have been impossible not to be seen. I wouldn't really care these days, but I was much more reserved and cautious back then. I common symptom I think, when still in the closet. I did slide in there a few times in my underwear late at night, but only because the protection of darkness had temporarily replaced the light.
Pete on Instagram
Studio1x