Your name isn’t really Wolf is it.
Oh but yes it is.
If your name really is Wolf, are you scary?
No, I’m lovely.
How does one even get a name like that?
I got mine in a bargain store. It was a little raggedy and gray, but I gave it a bath and a shampoo and that perked it right up. You could also try and grow up in Germany in an ancient house in the woods, but now that I say it, that seems a little silly to me. You start like that, anything could happen! You might end up as a photographer, making up silly questions and answering them.
May I bring my mother?
We work alone, but I am happy for her to deliver you to my door and take a good look at me. Or your father. Then she has to go and sit in a café and read Horse and Hound. Meanwhile, you and I can focus on the session without distractions. This is entirely in your interest. Even your best friend, with the best intentions, will diffuse your focus.
But I’m under 18, my mother has to come with me.
I am really sorry, but your mother has to go to another photographer with you. Strictly no one under the age of 18.
Real photographers have testimonials on their website.
I’m an unreal photographer. But if you’d like some, check my google reviews! You’ll find them here: Wolf Marloh reviews on Google.
Do you howl at the moon?
The moon howls at me.
I hate being photographed.
Pretty much everyone who comes to my studio does. That wasn’t the deal, was it! You became an actor so you can be other people… but then, every year or so, you have to go to some guy with a stupid name and be yourself. Well, here’s a secret: It’s OK to be nervous. You also get nerves before you go on stage. It’s OK. It’s an energy. It frizzles away into the edges of the cosmos, where it gently rattles the bars of the pan-galactic cage.
You got me a little worried now. All this nervous actor energy frizzling away … isn’t there a danger it will wear out the edges of the cosmos and break the cage? Should I change career?
No! You must keep going. We’ve got to get out of this cage, and you are our only hope.
I suddenly just want to emigrate to Spain and grow vegetables.
That is why it must be you!
Do you talk in your sleep?
All the time, it’s terrible!
If you talk in your sleep, don’t you wake yourself up?
Absolutely I do. I wake up saying words like “Shnizelfloomens” and nobody is any the wiser, least of all me. Two years ago I woke myself up laughing, though I could not remember what I dreamed. These days apparently I mostly sing contently to myself.
Can you snapchat my face so it looks the way I looked ten years ago?
It won’t sell you if you don’t look like yourself. Someone told me this story: An actor walks into a casting. Silence. The casting director looks at his headshot. Then he looks up and says: “What did you do with your much better-looking younger brother?”
I will zap any blemishes on the computer. Anything that’s not permanent goes in the retouch. I’ll even out your skin. I’ll get rid of stray hairs. Everything else, I would suggest, stays.
I have several more Wolf questions.
Faaaaaablouuuuus. Save them for when you come to my studio. Otherwise we won’t have anything to say to each other, and we’ll spend the entire time in awkward silence as I take your headshots with you looking sullen and austere.
Sounds like a plan. So when I’m there can I ask you again whether you are really called ‘Wolf’? Because, I mean, in this FAQ, you’re just brushing it off, but when we’re face to face and I ask you, you’ll have to admit that a) nobody can honestly be called ‘Wolf’, and b) you’re really called ‘Kevin’.
If you ask me again, I will give you the truthful answer which is: ‘Yes, I am really called Wolf.’ I will smile amicably, but then I will ring a little bell, and a butler will come in carrying a tray with an enormous lemon on it. You will then have to eat the entire lemon before we can take any further pictures.
When you don’t do headshots, what do you do with yourself?
Every morning, I look in the mirror, show my teeth, and growl. Then I say: “Who’s the Wolf!?” In the evening, I look in the mirror again and marvel at how working all day makes me look younger and more handsome. I hold a little jar against my temple and try and bottle up ‘essence of lupine thinking’. This I sell to gullible tourists.
I can keep myself endlessly amused like that. But when I run out of things to say to myself, I write, and I play the piano. When I get tired of writing and playing the piano, I walk along the beach,. or go on a hike, or, of course, withdraw to my secret command center and plot world-domination.
My older brother just told me there’s an animal called ‘wolf’. Were you named after this ‘wolf’ animal?
LOL you just silly now.
