Category Archives: Politics

Bob Shell: Letters From Prison 2018 #1

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Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2018


Letters From Prison, Part 1 2018


Text by Bob Shell, Copyright 2018


The other day one of the young men here handed me a book to read. I looked at it and was transported back in time more than fifty years. The book is Story of O. In 1966 I was nineteen years old, in my second year at Virginia Tech, working part time in a bookstore/coffee shop wrapping shipments for mailing, and trying to find a girlfriend. To make extra money, I was selling subscriptions to Playboy and Evergreen Review. I ordered a book I’d read about in Evergreen, called The Story of O, which had just been published in the US. The book had created quite a stir! There was much discussion about Pauline Reage, the credited author. Was this a pseudonym? Was the author really a man? Would the publisher end up in prison alongside the publisher of Screw?

This book was my first introduction to serious S and M erotica. To say it had a strong impact on me would be a massive understatement. Ever since I first read the book, I’ve had a dream of filming, still or movie, this story. There is a “band designee” version by the masterful French artist Guido Crepax, and a pretty awful movie and serialized TV miniseries, but they’re far too toned down. Anyway, I was surprised to find the book here where everything is so heavily censored. Apparently explicit verbal sex is OK, but even a bare breast is forbidden pictorially. I recently had an issue of Vogue magazine confiscated for containing nudity, and got an institutional charge for having it! I was given 45 days telephone restriction as punishment. Imagine that in the good old U.S.A.! Such is life here in the DOC.


About The Author: Bob Shell is a professional photographer, author and former editor in chief of Shutterbug Magazine. He is currently serving a 35 year sentence at Pocahontas State Correctional Center, Pocahontas, Virginia for involuntary manslaughter for the death of Marion Franklin, one of his former models. Mr. Shell is serving the 10th years of his sentence. To read more articles by Bob Shell, go here


Also posted in Art, Erotica, Fetish, Lipstick Lesbians, Models, Photography, Women

Pat Meehan: #MeToo

Pat Meehan: #MeToo

Pat Meehan: #MeToo


Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2018


To see additional portraits from this body of work, click here


Also posted in Art, Blog, Men, Photography, Portraits

A.H. Scott: The Grab Back


Illustration by Eustace M, Pilgram, Copyright 2018


Poetry by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2018


Illustration by Eustace M. Pilgram, Copyright 2018

Author’s Note: 

North Korea is just another layer in the cake of chaos that 45 has made over these past 12 months. I couldn’t resist tossing in Joseph Welch into this hideous mix. Geez, one year seems like a century under this con known as Don. But, in the midterms and 2020, “The Grab Back” is coming for him and his complicit party. Everything he touches turns to dust…..




Flip the coin

Flip it well

Cuz’ as the days grind on, we’re all being dragged to Hell

Both sides are made of people who are fine, as the Monarch of Mendacity always tells

Seems like a century has been compressed into 365 days since his inauguration

Fit as a fiddle is what his doc says

Yet, our eyes can’t deceive us as the con known as Don smirks along these demeaning days

The cult of Trump is oblivious to anyone who doesn’t bow to the tantrum titan

Heather Heyer was her name

Do you give a damn?

La David Johnson was his name

Do you give a damn?

Coin flips again

Of course he never retreats, as onto the next debasing is his delight

Flipping coins of hate is the only way his pleasure is elevated and hardened

Stable is fable

Genius is not his

Decency be damned

America be damned

Planet be damned

Well, I’ll be damned

But, the flippin’ goes on

And, that’s part of Don’s con

Welch once asked a question of sense

But, that would only matter to one who had any

Comeuppance of The Grab Back is coming to thee






In chief

In grief

Stain upon our world will not be brief

In over his thumbs and head

Flim-Flim is what we dread

The predicament we got here ain’t a failure to communicate

It’s a failure to close the mouth and open the ears, proves he is a man who history cannot educate

But, he gets off on seeing us all in tears and with a frown

Put the shovel down and stop using that blowhole of yours as some kind of Stalinistic crown

Boasting of a button so large, seems the only way his fragile ego can get a constant recharge

Your button is minute, as is your capacity for humility

Two men of madness across bodies of water pout and rant

Yet, the elder of the two is more immature than the younger pissant

Down this road of sorrow, man of rage flexes 240 characters towards a dark future

Nuclear winter could be near, for arrogance’s finger on the button of apocalypse is ever so clear

Crazy he is not, for there are more than enough fellow travelers in his lot

All of us who are sane are hoping Nuclear winter won’t be a result of a pissing contest insult

Insults be damned, for his soul is a stone of narcissism

Monarch of Mendacity inflates his chest with pride

He doesn’t give a thought on who is on the other side

Squawking about who’s coming in and who you want in this country proves your racism can no longer hide

Callously speaking of human beings as if they were soot

Now, let’s get down to the root

Root of his core isn’t larger than life for something so truly itsy-bitsy makes the world tsk-tsk in strife

Your button is minute

Your bullying sure as hell ain’t cute

And, Vladimir owns your chute of poot

Pussy Hat!

Pussy Hat!

Damn straight, that’s where it’s at

The Grab Back is here

Now, get this loud and clear: Voters are Gonna’ Vote & Kick All the Grabbers in the Rear!

The only hole that manure belches from is located between his vicious lips

So, to that man who is void of conscience, the Kitties dig in their claws deep, “Hole Off & Flip!!”

Mid-terms and 2020 are gonna’ be the ultimate payback and Grab-Back trip!


About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by A. H. Scott, go here



Also posted in Art, Blog, News, Poetry, Women

Debbie Williams: The Naked Truth


TWE: June 2017



Photography by Tony Ward, Copyright 2017




Text by Debbie Williams, Copyright 2017

I met Tony Ward in the 90’s, which I would probably say were my modeling heydays,  but to be frank, I have been dragging my 15 minutes of fame out over my lifetime.  I don’t remember how many times Tony and I have shot together, but I think it’s about five times by now. I like the way he sees art in the human experience.  As we shot our latest session,  he reminded me of one instance that made me completely uncomfortable.  I shot a scene with his wife Sandy.  I remember her wearing lingerie,  and me feeling like I wanted to find the closest exit.  When we shot the other day,  he mentioned that shoot,  and said it implied girl on girl action.  I don’t remember her touching me. I don’t think she did,  but I know that I didn’t like it.

Before you judge me, understand that I grew up with a sibling (and other loved ones), who are gay. The funny thing is, some people think that just because you are comfortable with a person for who they are, how they are when they are gay, that you must also be gay. Not so. I have even lost friends who were lesbians, because I just wanted to be friends.  I have also lost male friends that way. Maybe the fact that I wasn’t allowed to date until I was in college helped me to be a better friend,  because I couldn’t do anything else.  My mother said,  “You have straight “A’s”, and you are going to keep them”. I was the smart girl. You know,  most likely to succeed.  A nerd. I didn’t really think about being pretty,  except for cheerleading, gymnastics,  ballet, oratory, or an occasional talent show until I was a teenager.  I always loved clothing and shoes, but being raised by my mother was tough at times.





I was raised first in my family’s AME church,  then the Pentecostal church,  which wasn’t really big on encouraging women’s outward beauty, so modeling (and acting) isn’t looked on as a good thing.  Jesus said in Mark 16:15-16King James Version (KJV)

15 And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.
16 He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned.
It is sad, but there’s are entire groups of people who are not being ministered to because they are models, actors, athletes, dancers, artists, Personal Trainers,  gay, etc., because someone has written us off as not “good enough” for Heaven. Yet, the Bible says in Matthew 7,

“Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall bejudged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerestnot the beam that is in thine own eye?…”, and in Romans 1 (which pretty much covers all of the bases) says in verses 30-32, “30 Backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, boasters, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents,
31 Without understanding, covenantbreakers, without natural affection, implacable, unmerciful:
32 Who knowing the judgment of God, that they which commit such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do them.” King James Version (KJV) and in Proverbs 11:9 KJV, it says, “ 9 An hypocrite with his mouth destroyeth his neighbour: but through knowledge shall the just be delivered.”  and in Proverbs 26:20-22King James Version (KJV)
“20 Where no wood is, there the fire goeth out: so where there is no talebearer, the strife ceaseth.
21 As coals are to burning coals, and wood to fire; so is a contentious man to kindle strife.
22 The words of a talebearer are as wounds, and they go down into the innermost parts of the belly.”

I am not telling anyone that he or she has to create The Gospels According To (fill in the blank), in order to carry out their mission as a person of faith,  but I am saying that there is a wonderful little verse in John 3:16 KJV that speaks volumes, 16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.




When each of us goes before the altar of God, we can’t take our Mother’s faith, or our Father’s prayers. We go before God as we are -who we are. It is up to God to fix whatever​ needs to be fixed, and to heal what needs to heal. We often do ourselves, and others a major disservice, when we try to “play God”.
I thought about how I might explain away my reasons for doing this photo shoot, and feeling so free to dismantle this time. Other photographers have asked me to go completely nude before (when doing a nude shot would have been much easier to explain), and I didn’t do it. So why now, you might ask? Because, I want to let go.
God knows, I am not trying to promote Naked Sundays at the church. Oh, please don’t. This shoot allowed me to let go of some of my fears.
In 2011, I had kidney failure, a stroke and was diagnosed with Lupus. At first, I couldn’t talk, and could barely walk, see, hear, read, write, reason or remember. No one had to tell me I was dying. I could feel it.  It was a definite life changer for me.




The specter of death had a profound effect on my way of seeing life. For years, I have been in the ocean, trying not to make too many waves, while at the same time, trying to make a difference.
If you don’t make waves, you don’t make a difference. I can’t sit around worrying about what everyone is going to think about the choices I have made. I may not have that kind of time. I have to choose, and keep things moving.
I am always covered up under makeup, clothing, jewelry, degrees, titles, religious beliefs, family honor, motherhood, politics, responsibility…stuff.
I just want to be free.




It’s funny that Tony asked me to talk about the 2016 election. I decided to run for the US House of Representatives again after receiving a very encouraging letter from President Obama. I ran for this position against Congressman Bob Brady in 2004, on the ticket with President George Bush, Jr. I had a lot more votes in this election, but it was pretty brutal. I don’t think many candidates, or many Americans for that matter, came out of 2016 unscathed. It is now May of 2017, and now that I look back on it, I would have made some different choices.
Aside from getting hacked, and I was and still am a Republican, I felt the environment was toxic. I was not angry or disappointed on November 9th, after the election was over. I was relieved. Little did I know that there would be lingering questions about what happened during the election, and what was happening to me. I mentioned I was hacked. That happened pretty early in the campaign, but I was completely floored when I received an email on December 20th, which is the day after the election results were certified, saying someone from Russia changed the information on one of my financial accounts. Afterward, there came threatening emails, ones that sound like bribes, emails about bank accounts, credit cards, and websites that I didn’t set up, etc. It has been a long, drawn out nightmare.
Have you ever watched a “B movie”, where someone is killed, but they use the entire fifteen minutes of fame to die. You know, the kind of scene where you find yourself telling the person, “Oh just die already”! Yup, election 2016.



Even though that election was far from normal, I joined the others who were in support of Mr. Trump, because I didn’t want the party to be ripped apart. I was asked to lead Women For Trump, and African Americans For Trump, which I turned down. Quite frankly, I was waiting for the moment when I felt like he knew more about world events than I knew. I didn’t have a huge staff, or any money, so I had to study, write my own pieces, come up with my own slogans, design my own literature, etc. I had to work. I didn’t have the luxury of being lazy.
What should have been a pivotal moment for me was when the Billy Bush video came out. After hearing it, I wanted to walk away, but my name was already on the ballot, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I took a semi break for a week, and did an interview with the Philly Voice, where I opened up about the election. I also spoke up for Hillary Clinton in that article, but that part never made print. I had my issues with Secretary Clinton, but I believe she really wanted, and deserved to win.

It’s hard. I met Mr. Trump September at a meeting with Ministers in Philadelphia. I was asked to appear on MSNBC for an interview with Joy Reid later that evening. I was willing to speak in support for Mr. Trump from that day forward, but when the Billy Bush video came out, it hit me like a load of bricks, especially because I ended up moving out of the apartment I was renting because the landlord touched me inappropriately. Talk about tragic irony. I was hoping for a better, stronger America, and though the lines are blurred, I have not stopped hoping.




All Right Reserved.  Copyright 2017


Cover: Debbie Williams photographed in Brooklyn, New York on May 18, 2017

Body Suit: Moda International

Earrings: Dream Plus

Metal Necklace: Dream Plus

Makeup: LA Colors

Nail Polish: Broadway Nails

Dress: Nicole Miller Collection

Lingerie: Calvin Klein


Also posted in Art, Blog, Erotica, Fashion, Glamour, Jewelry, lingerie, Models, Nudes, Photography, Portraits, Women

A.H. Scott: What Happened to Trump’s Brain?


What Happened to Trump’s Brain?


Poetry by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2017


Photography by Tony Ward, Copyright 1977




He paces with anxiety and mutters to himself alone

Taste for strawberries isn’t on his mind, as two scoops of ice cream or an appetite for meatloaf may give a bit of solace to him in this historic home

Watched in silence are those who dwelled here before he did

Milhous whispers, “Your reputation is on the fast track of outdoing me, kid”

Andrew chuckles, “You don’t even know I was dead before the war began”

Johnson chimes in, “I came up with sounder visions when I was sitting on the can”

JFK dismissively whistles, “Your level of tact can only fill a thimble”

Ronald wisely quips, “Bonzo had more sense than you. And, my personality was ever more nimble”

Clinton says in his Southern drawl, “Call me what you will, but my hands ain’t small”

W. sighs, “So, you wanted to toss dirt on my days in office. Well, my, my, my”

Man who mutters and paces places hands over ears

He makes it clear that these voices isn’t what he wants to hear

Rush of wind blows through the Oval Office doors, as he looks over and sees the man who lived there a few months before

He rubs his eyes and screams, “No, it can’t be you!”

Man from Illinois via Hawaii isn’t standing there in the flesh

Yet, his spirit of brotherhood filled this place of lost happiness

Mutterer grumbles this man’s name like a curse every time it is spoken from his bitter lip, “Oh, so now it’s you. So, what’s your smart-ass quip?”

A voice filled the air and said ever so soberly, “This job ain’t no joke. This is the White House and not some luncheonette casually selling Pepsi or Coke”

Yet, the resident who is now President decided to be a carbonation of resentment

Orange Crush isn’t refreshment

Orange Crush is a man without sanity or attachment

Unlinked from the truth that stares him in the face

Scaffolding of his psyche has vanished without a trace

Signposts of the past can be seen as history to some

Yet, history is alive in the marrow of democracy of today and all the tomorrows to come


About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by A. H. Scott, go here


Also posted in Art, Blog, Men