Sweet Bird of Youth

just like a chocolate milkshake

Oh hey boys of Milano

Photos: Tommy Ton

My two hundred and twenty second post the day of my twenty second birthday.

be

If ever I decide I want to be a fashion photographer I want to be like Tim Walker. Or perhaps Alex Jennings for reminding me how much I love Walker...but more on Jennings later.

He captures such delicate beauty in what appear to be fleeting moments - even though we know they are far from spontaneous (I mean, unless it's common for giant humpty dumpty's to be found in deserted crops...I dunno?) - and seriously flaws me with his endless originality.
This guy has guts.

Today I have been encouraged - take risks, immerse yourself, write your own story. Obsessed is ok.

Photos: Tim Walker from "Private World", "Curiouser Curiouser", "Partick Wolfe", "So Dreamy", "Play of White"

revelation

Watching day come up and spread it's glory over one of my favourite Sydney streets on a Saturday. Delight.

I have put down magazines and picked up novels again. It came to my attention that my mind must be visually saturated as I was not soaking up anything I was seeing.

Do you read? What are you reading? Is it good? Tell me, tell me!

Jonathan Safran Foer has been on my to do list for sometime. A delightful Christmas gift prompted follow through.

Everything is Illuminated, Jonathan Safran Foer. 2002.

"The boys, young men, men and elderly of the shtetl would sit vigil outside her window at all hours of the day and night asking if they could assist her with her studies, or in the garden, or if perhaps Brod would like to go for a stroll to the river.

She never said no and never said yes but pulled, slackened, pulled her strings of control.

She maintained a careful balance by her window never allowing the men to come too close, never allowing them to stray too far. She needed them desperately, not only for the favors, not only for the things they could get for Yankel and her that Yankel couldn't afford but because they were a few more fingers to plug the dike that held back what she knew to be true..."

Photos: Rachel Kara

new dawn, new day

....and we have some serotonin back in the building :)

Photos: Elle Macpherson by Mario Testino, Fred Astaire in Singing in The Rain, Thomas Van der Zaag, uknown, Rahkela by Rachel Kara, Gene Tierney in Leave Her to Heaven, Thomas Van der Zaag

ripe

2011 is now five days old (or young, depending on whether or not you drink from the cup that's half full). I am sleeping more, perhaps so I can dream more, and am quite comfortable in the numbness these (passing) lulls of mine bring.

I bought a journal. This o-check design journal infact.

I thought if it was pretty I'd be more likely to use it but have quickly come to realise - or maybe just admit - that I am straight up awkward when it come to pen, paper and private thoughts. Heck, I think I've shared more of my inner self with this damm blogspot (which is potentially accessible to [according to www.internetworldstats.com] almost 2 BILLION people) than I ever have with any form of handwriting tools.

So I'm sorry journal but here's my entry for today. Don't be jealous.

2011 started with no big bang.

Midnight hit. All I wanted was to curl in to a ball and have my non-existant lover stroke my hair as we fell sweetly and silently asleep by each others side.

Reality was, there were enough faces in and around my home to scare my sometimes painfully and naturally introverted self. It was confronting. My insides were squirming. I had chosen to invite them here?

...but I do come from a family of performers and like they say

"the show must go on!"

so as the clock struck 12 I hoo-ed and ha-ed with the crowd whilst my mind wandered far from home.

I wanted to wake up from a beautiful rest with the fire in my gut reignited by the potential opportunity, mystery, adventure and discoveries the turn of a calendar year can bring.
Direction, certainty and at least a faint sense of security as welcomed accompaniments.

What felt like an eternity later the party was dying down as the sun was coming up and a couple of things came crashing down upon on me:
1. An honest look at what was/is my greatest desire (so here's where I draw the line on what 2 billion can know about me!) and,
2. For the 6 months or so that I have just passed I have been more or less trying to 'extrovert' myself.
It is only just occurring to me how tiring and laboursome it has been but I have done what I needed to do.

I woke from a short and unsatisfying sleep stepped into the shower and as the water fell I had word that that season is over. "You can be you" over and over. "You can be you". I liked it and felt a little calmer, a little more comfortable in my skin.

I don't have a resoltuion or plan for the year as yet so I will leave this post with all it's ugly ends hanging loose for now.

Photos: , Rachel Kara

Disclaimer: I get my tenses mixed up a lot and make up my own grammar and punctuation therefore I'm sure my writing is a bitch to read, but this isn't about you. This is now also officially my private journal.
You can still enjoy my photos?

Dream on

I tried to get inspired to clean my room (or at least organise my mess) so did what you should always not do when you have a job at hand 1. Went online 2. checked what's been happening with The Selby.

What I ended up with was mismatched but way dreamy combinations (like Jaimie Campbell in Pharells pool in Mexico - ohhright) and photos of myself laying on the floor procrastinating.

Latest news: Woodstock NYE house party. Going to have a photo field day! Need some party inspiration. The thought of hosting a 'party' is giving me hives, or headaches, so am going to stick with the term 'gathering'. What kind of gatherings are y'all going to to welcome in the beginning of a new decade?

Photos: The Selby, Rachel Kara

looking in

Can someone write something clever, honest and insightful without being tragic and lame about feeling:

anxious over success or more specifically, a lack thereof
drowning, suffocating, getting lost in disorganisation
a rush to get to the future
inability to express all that one feels
inability to show all that one see's
tension in the head
backflips in my stomach

I don't understand why some days adrenaline decides to pump a little harder through my veins (no not that good, ready to leap out of my skin adrenaline, the other one) and my brain whirs at a noticeably and dangerously higher speed.
It is also on these days that the world seems to moves in slow motion and I am able to make everything a melancholic movie moment...like birds flying through the sky for example. True story - I saw that only hours ago and wanted to cry.

I hate these days!

Tomorrow the sun will come up and I can almost guarantee it will be all rainbows and lollipops but for now my fingers running over these keys release a little of whatever this is that's stirring. All at the risk of being eye-rolled and misinterpreted by strangers. Whatever.

This too shall pass. Sleeeeeeppp.

Photos: Click on image for Flickr details

Video: Rachel Kara (filmed the night before last, camera resting on my chest, laying in bed, lots of camera shake, poor framing but plenty of feeling).

knots

Beyond fascinating. When's the feature?

00:51 precious. pure. love
01:51 tear.
03:12 Dad
03:34 lol
04:15 why are their lights on?
04:50 every. single. frame gahhhhhhhhhhhh
05:18 sumputuous, buttery
05:25 cigar
06:03 light
06:43 what a scene
08:06 a fuck tonne of leather
10:43 and that's how it works.

Movie: The Selby

Tonight it's a party yah! Any Spanish, Mexican, Brazilian, Argentinian (tanskindarkhairpiercingeyesstrongarms) men welcome.

Happy weekend.

x

daze

It was the perfect night to be sitting on the porch, drinking a soda with your summer crush whilst the cicadas hummed and the anticipation of an awkward first kiss lingered in the sweet air...

...yes, typical American movie scenes is a dialect I think fluently in.

Lady, loose hair, full moon, no shoes, no bra, dog on leash. I feel you lady.

Photo: self portrait
Illustration: Marjorie Miller - Queen of The Night

fleet

I have had so many thoughts today - ideas for blogging, conversations, events, dreams, actions, gifts, people, beliefs - but I can't seem to hold onto them long enough to put to any sort of use.

I felt the ~~second~~ third best I've felt all week when I hung in the backyard and caught the last light of this for-some-reason-special Friday evening.

In the morning before I leave for work I take a short walk around the block to let my brain digest my dreams, talk with my God about anything that came up in said dreams that may prove to be an issue in making it through the day ahead, breathe in some fresh air and stretch my limbs.
...that was supoosed to be an introduction to me talking about how I don't have time to edit photos so am quickly learning to shoot how I want things seen, in-camera....but I don't have time to fully explain my thoughts on that either so I'll just leave you with that note about my morning walk.
I hope one day someone special who can see, feel and appreciate the magic of the morning will join me on my walk.

Photos: Rachel Kara, my muse Emma Louise