How to be a Choral Pornographer.

(Or, how to bullshit a bunch of attractive and interesting people into being models for your nude yet arty photographs.)

Warning:

The following story contains nudity, harsh language, student hijinks, early mornings, technical errors, bad coffee, sexual innuendo, gratuitous capitalism and navel gazing. Those of a sensitive constitution are advised to aquire peppermint tea and ginger beer, stop whining and read on. It'll do you good.

Before continuing, you may wish to adjust your screen to correct render all the shades of grey below.

So who is Daniel. Damn good question. Daniel is a photographer. But I don't make a living from it. For the time being, I wouldn't want to either. Daniel is a chronicler of events. I'm an inveterate anecdoter, and I couldn't construct a narrative to save myself. But journalists no longer tell the whole story and may not be able to, so the responsibility is ours. Daniel has recently removed the cork from the bottle of his writing. Watch me waffle.

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	© Daniel Smith 2002	Set a Trap -- >
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