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| The
Via Crucis of Camille - Crux 2 - Page 7 |
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With
Camille resting on the cold floor, my attention
was directed at what to do next. As I mention
repeateadly, I don't want to repeat myself.
All previous experiences were different, they
all had a different look even if on occassion
they were shot on the same location.
My plan was to work on this location for
as long as Camille would be willing to do
it. So, it was important that I try different
things each time.
I wasn't sure if this was going to be one
of many more sessions or the last. But here
I was, planning for the future.
By this time Camille had grown in her experience
as an actress. I was no longer concerned about
her performance, I was sure she was going
to deliver each time and what I wanted. I
began to think that now I could concentrate
in "the look" of the scenes. I knew
there was a lot of work to do if I wanted
to get a better look.
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I left Camille on the floor to take the camera
and get some pov shots of her, to study her
body, as it became a routine everytime I stopped
whipping her. One thing that I noticed is that
I was not enjoying the moment as I would have
if I was not shooting a movie, if I was only
role playing..
I was actually separating this activity from
the more personal, private, intimate life I
had with Camille. This was becoming work and
mostly work, even if I was turned on by her.
I was able to distance myself from the situation,
to look at it proffessionally and it was strange.
As I roved over Camille's body with the camera,
capturing the whipping marks, the soft breathing,
her sexy lines,
I was thinking about the composition of the
image rather than about how it would be to just
fuck her right there and then. She was not a
lover at that moment, she was a victim, a character,
a work of fiction, a performance and fucking
wasn't on the script, the mental script because
nothing was written.
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The commander reached
the group and asked what was all the conmotion.
"This old man accuses this young woman
of stealing, .... she had an apple with her."
The Commander looked at the young woman, he
fancied her. "So a young, pretty thief...
Do you have anything to say for yourself?
... are you a thief?"
Lyvia didn't dare
to speak, they might recongnize her accent
and find that she was a runaway slave. "Don't
you have a tongue?" The commander asked.
Annoyed at her silence he gave an order. "Take
her to the square, give her ten lashes and
let her go. That's her punishment for stealing
an apple and not responding to me".
The older man took
pity on the woman. "I don't mind her
stealing the apple... she might be hungry...
let her go"
The commander wasn't
impressed with the old man's pleas. "Too
late old creep, she will get what she deserves.
Let's go"...
By then a small
crowd had gathered around the group, amongst
them, hidding behind two large women, was
the young girl.
The soldiers grabbed
Lyvia by her arms and dragged her away.
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As
I got closer to Camille with the lens, I began
to feel the need of lights, different lights,
and the need of using a better camera, one that
would capture the image with a lot more control.
My professional camera uses 20 dollar 3/4 inch
tapes, a dollar per minute of image. My old
VHS was giving me 2 hours of image for less
than 3 dollars.
But it was inevitable. After this session,
if we were going to continue, I had to start
using the better equipment, lights and whatever
I could get. Which brought a question to my
mind. Could I do this alone? As the ONLY crew?
The orchestra man? Maybe I should get Margot
to help me, but it would be so odd.
I tried to imagine Margot watching me whipping
Camille, stripping her naked, crucifying her.
I don't think she would appreciate that.
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