“Kick back in the grass here—knees open a bit. Now look off like you’re lost in a daydream.”
Jim fusses with the camera awhile, adjusting the reflector and checking the light.
When he finally looks back up, he grins. “Must be one hell of a daydream.”
Toby smirks. “Nah… that breeze just feels amazing.”
Click.
From the woods we step out into the field, beginning with Colt star Toby lounging in tall grass with it all hanging out, hair catching the breeze. From there we move through a series of men lying, kneeling, and standing in open meadows and fields.
Fields read differently than woods for me. Still wild, still natural, but the mood shifts—less mystery and magic, more pastoral and romantic. Fields show up everywhere in art as places of longing and desire. Think Whitman’s Leaves of Grass or Fleetwood Mac singing, “Won’t you lay me down in the tall grass and let me do my stuff.” Fields can be sexy places.
One of my earliest sexual awakenings happened in a wheat field. Maybe that’s why these images still feel so dreamy to me. Fields have this mix of openness, nostalgia, and possibility…like a place where you can wander off, lay down in the tall grass, and do your stuff.
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