Lost: Skull Scarf full o’ Burrs

I lost my favorite skull scarf tonight– in the most awesome fashion.

A photographer friend, John, and I went to scout trees for a photo shoot in the future. I didn’t put on anything special or any make-up beyond some concealer, because I didn’t plan on any photos really being taken. He planned to bring his camera, but I just thought we’d be doing some test shots of the trees themselves.

He’s taken some local photography classes, and I was a model a few times for a few of his classmates. He was shooting as well those days, and I’ve seen a lot of his work. He’s an ethical and artistic photographer with considerable vision and technical capability– so I trust him.

I had a location idea, and we went to check it out. Each tree was evaluated for lighting possibilities, location, and accessible branches. It was near my old neighborhood, along a river.

When I found some trees I liked, I stood in to give him a test shot.

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Before I knew it, I was posing and an impromptu photo shoot had begun.

Each tree seemed to have a different story.

I hopped into different areas and just made up a scenario each time.

I had worn corduroys and boots, for climbing. Just in case! They were perfect. I also had a skull scarf, to accessorize. I got it last year at a Hairbanger’s Ball show at a Joliet casino on impulse. It was in the gift shop, for $20. I had to have it!

But one area I went to–a bit of a hill with a lot of foliage– ended up being infested with burrs! They were all around me, in my hair, stuck on my jacket and in my scarf. Ahh! But it was thrilling too– like natural puzzles to be solved!

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I tried to pick them out– they were spiny and innumerable, it seemed.

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My determination and frustration with ridding myself of burrs became part of the story on film.

As a kid, I used to terrorize my babysitters by climbing the carpeted stairs in our home, like a monkey. I would hang there by my feet, taunting my poor babysitters. I don’t remember their names, but they were helpless to get me down. I was tiny, fast, and flexible. I would go to the very top until I thought they had had enough!

Heh, heh, heh. I was mean!

Such a tomboy. I was also always climbing trees, jumping in the mud, and generally getting scraped up.

Anyway, after scouting all the trees possible it was totally dark and it seemed we had reached a private property line. It was time to head back. On the walk returning, I realized my scarf was gone! We went back and searched for it– he used his speed light as a flashlight of sorts. A hilarious improvisation, I must say. No luck!

Then I had inspiration– by looking at the pictures, we would be able to pinpoint when the scarf went missing!

By looking at them, the answered appeared– like a game of Clue. In the tree thicket, after I hung upside down, by the river.

Alas, it was too dark and we’d been out there awhile. I resolved to go back and check for it myself. Probably tomorrow.

My scarf may never be recovered.

But what a great story about how it was lost! I told John I wanted to blog about it, and he got these pictures done in case I wanted illustrations. Who knew you could have such an adventure just scouting trees? I had such a blast and am quite impressed with the photos. I only posted a few– he’ll edit the rest. But I know he’ll be fun to work with again.

And I like the idea of some animals finding my skull scarf, infested with burrs. That it’s out there somewhere, a part of the landscape.

Maybe it’ll turn up, and maybe some wild creature will use it as a blanket or burrow with it. Maybe they’ll make it part of their own decor, and dislodge those pesky burrs better than I could.

If I recover it, I’ll probably just leave those burrs– like a badge of honor.

All photo credits go to Ginger John Thomas.

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