Page 58 of The House on Firefly Beach
“I am so happy!” Juliana said. “We could also call your photographer to see if he could do some test shots.”
“Great idea. I’ll give Gavin a call.” She felt a swell of excitement, and tried not to think about how long the road still was to getting this publication ready.Baby steps, she told herself. “What time can I come over?”
Juliana twisted the watch on her thin wrist around to view the time. “Want to do it now?”
“My mom and Uncle Hank took Robby to a movie so we’ll have a few hours to work.”
“Perfect!”
When Juliana said, “Let me grab my make-up bag,” Sydney hadn’t been ready for the suitcase-sized tote that Juliana loaded into Sydney’s car at Malory’s. Juliana lumped it on Sydney’s bed next to where she was sitting. She then set up a circular tripod with white lighting and shined it on Sydney’s face.
“You need all this for a shot of two people holding hands?” Sydney asked, peeking into the bag. It was filled with different combinations of make-up colors, nail polishes, hairstyling kits—everything anyone could ever need and then some.
Juliana scooted the bag over and sat down beside Sydney. “The shot is only one element of a great image,” she said. “Before we put anything on your face at all, we need to know what we are painting.”
“What do you mean?”
“What is the product you’re trying to sell?”
Sydney tied her hair back with a rubber band. “The wellness magazine.”
“What emotion or question do you want from your reader when he or she sees this cover? What will make them pick it up?”
Sydney contemplated this for a second. She’d been so consumed with the minutiae of each of the pieces that she realized she hadn’t given thought to the overarching theme of the whole thing. “I’m not sure if it’s a question per se,” Sydney said, thinking out loud, “but more of a curiosity. I want people dying to know what’s inside that will better their lives.”
Juliana sighed a long, luscious exhalation of happiness. “You think like a writer,” she said. “You are an emotional thinker. I love that. We need to tap into it.”
Sydney had never really considered that her thought pattern was any different than anyone else’s. She’d just gotten used to pondering things in this way from being around Nate. She hadn’t really dissected the “why” of things in a long time. Perhaps it was the fact that, since Nate had left, she hadn’t had anyone ask the right questions.
“I have only known one other person who thinks that deeply about everything he does,” Juliana said.
Her comment made Sydney feel exposed, and her cheeks heated right up. “Well, if it’s Nate, let’s move along,” she said. “He’s a colossal distraction, and I need to focus on the magazine right now.”
“Yes, you are right. Let us focus.” She pulled a curling iron out of her bag and plugged it in, setting it on the dresser. “What is the title of the magazine?”
“It’s calledA Better You.”
“So my interpretation of this is clean lines, simplistic, stripping away all the baggage—nothing but fresh, youthful happiness. We need a visual representation of mindfulness, wellbeing, and joy. Minimal make-up, loose hair that allows the sunlight to flow through it, lightweight clothing, perhaps bare feet. How does that sound?”
Sydney was surprised at how much more there was to Juliana’s creativity and spirit than what she put out in the public eye. “I love how you work,” she said.
“Thank you.”
Juliana gave her a meek smile that was different than the vivacious looks she’d offered the cameras over the years.
Juliana rooted around in her bag and pulled out a wide tray of varying colors. “I’m thinking we will play up the colors that you already have naturally. With your auburn curls, we want cinnamons and coppers for your eyes, a light, shiny nutmeg for your lips.” She dabbed her finger in one of the colors and swiped it on the back of her hand. “Like this.”
“That’s beautiful,” Sydney said. “These decisions seem to come naturally for you. In seconds, you can choose the right colors. It would take me hours of discussion at the make-up counter in town.”
Juliana smiled and motioned for her to close her eyes. “I could do it in my sleep,” she said as she applied Sydney’s eyeshadow.
As Juliana worked on Sydney’s face, her brushes and sponges moving effortlessly, various creams and powders dabbed on the back of Juliana’s hand, Sydney said with a little laugh, “It takes a lot to look natural, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” Juliana said, returning the amusement in her words. “At the end of the day, it is like art: we play with colors and textures and light…” she dragged a wide brush across Sydney’s forehead. “What we want to do is give your natural skin the texture and color it needs to look just as beautiful on camera as you do in real life. But to do that, we have to speak the language of the lens in terms of reflection and shape.”
“You sound like my friend Gavin. He’s the photographer for the shoot, and he has an art gallery in town. Have you been there yet?”
Juliana shook her head.
