Back in the attic again . . .

So there I was, back in Connecticut, living in my brother's attic, just as if I'd never left.  Definitely not the place I wanted to be . . .  I went to work for a home health agency in New Haven, since I still had my RN license, and worked day to day wherever I was assigned, but my heart was soo00OO! not into it.  I had been to  Brigadoon!  I'd tasted my dream!  How could I go back to being a townie?

I was terrified that I was going to wake up one day in my forties and discover that the best I'd done was to live an ordinary life, which was just completely unacceptable, considering the extraordinary experience I'd just lived through, courtesy of The Greatest Show On Earth!  I was supposed to be a CLOWN!  I HAD to be a clown.
But how? 

Finding work in the circus wasn't one of the things they taught us in Clown College.  In fact, I'd heard that one of the reasons we-who-did-not-get-contracts also did not get diplomas was so that we couldn't misrepresent ourselves as having ever been TGSOE employees or affiliates.  Given the stress in our "certificates of appreciation" on our non-contracted status, the veracity of this assumption seemed  reasonable at the time . . .

But I knew that professionals in any area of show business had publicity materials.  I'd seen enough movies to have some sort of rudimentary understanding of how things worked . . . or so I thought.  So I hired a professonal photographer . . . well, ok, so my mom had a friend from work who took pictures . . .

This was the best one . . .

I just couldn't understand it.  I was a product of Ringling Bros Barnum and Bailey Circus Clown College!  I was a trained professional, taught by the best in the business!  Why didn't all that training, all that knowledge, just burst through the lens and scream "you NEED THIS GUY on YOUR show!!?" 

How could I look so horribly amateruish?

And this was way, way before backyard photographers had digital cameras that let you look at and post on line what you'd just photographed, even before you went back in the house.  So it was a couple of weeks before I even got to see the results.  Shoot, this was even before there was "online . . ."

His second effort was his attempt at "art." He tried a double exposure . . .

Apparently, I had only one facial expression at the time.  Note the vague sillouette of Bruce the Clown without make-up, kind of from the nose down, that Bruce the Clown with make-up is super-imposed over . . .

Mom's photographer was thrilled with his work.  I was appalled. 

There was a whole envelope of similar exposures and poses.  He even included the negatives, in case I wanted to have 8x10's made of any of his work

Mostly, what I could see from his work was that his work wasn't going to get me any work of my own.  These were the two best out of a 36 exposure roll of 35mm film, and the only two I still have.  But it wasn't his fault.  He could only take pictures of what was in front of him . . .

This might have been my first experience in realizing that lots of times, a person's perception of reality is way different than reality itself.  I mean, I knew-- I ABSOLUTELY KNEW that Bruce the Clown looked way better than what I saw in these photos . . . and yet, every time I ever looked at them, even today, I was disappointed . . .

I never made any 8x10s.  I never sent a single copy of any of these to anyone.  I never even showed them to anyone (until I posted them here . . .)

Fortunately, I didn't have to . . .