| Photography. |
[Wednesday
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%monlong%% 19th, 2008
at 3:15pm] |
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I have been photographing on my own for a little over five years now. For the first time ever, I am in a formal setting (beginning photography) at university. I couldn't be happier. I have learned quite a bit! So with that being said, here are some photographs I have taken so far!
( Photographs )
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| recently |
[Thursday
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%monlong%% 20th, 2008
at 2:23pm] |
( all film )
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| American Dreamin' |
[Thursday
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%monlong%% 20th, 2008
at 6:37pm] |
Editorial: American Dreamin'
Magazine: W
Issue: December 2008
Models: Eniko Mihalik, Lara Stone, Abbey Lee Kershaw, Sessilee Lopez, Aline Weber
Photographer: Inez van Lamsweerde & Vinoodh Matadin
( More )
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| Love a lifetime |
[Thursday
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%monlong%% 20th, 2008
at 2:47pm] |
Coco Rocha and Roberto Bolle
Vogue US December 2008
by A.Leibovitz and G. Coddington
( + )
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| miss demeanours |
[Wednesday
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%monlong%% 19th, 2008
at 6:29pm] |
Photographer: Todd Crawford
Model: Sofi Berelidze
Noi. se magazine #20
large pics are scans from the magazine, small pics from photographer's website
( more )
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[Thursday
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%monlong%% 20th, 2008
at 1:52pm] |
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bonjour darlings :)
this morning, i somehow managed to make myself do this.
it was terrifying! and exciting and even fun; not the pushing, shoving and sizing up i'd supposed. thank you all so, so much for spurring me on and wishing me well. even if i'm not chosen (and i doubt i will be!), i think for me it was more about just going... just ignoring how bloody scared of things like this i am, and forgetting what i thought people would think of me. right before i went in i actually thought for a second about this place and how brave everyone is - it gave me such a lift! if i can do something as small and silly as this, maybe someday i'll find myself jumping trains and moving across countries like you wonderful people. thank you, and love you! :)
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| Hasse Nielsen |
[Sunday
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%monlong%% 16th, 2008
at 6:50pm] |
Photographer: Hasse Nielsen
Model: Heather Marks
Dansk magazine
( more... )
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[Sunday
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%monlong%% 16th, 2008
at 8:02pm] |
Magazine: VOGUE Latinoamèrica NOV. 2008
Model: Caroline Winberg
Photographer: Lee Bromfield
( more . . . )
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| Vogue Italia November 2008 |
[Saturday
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%monlong%% 15th, 2008
at 9:23pm] |
Toni Garrn ,Katrin Thorman
by Steven Meisel
( + )
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[Wednesday
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%monlong%% 19th, 2008
at 11:45pm] |
I'm sorry gypsies, I just need to rant and I don't feel like I can anywhere else but here.
It’s rough at the moment - my own fault probably, but whatever the reason, it kills me slowly. Why yes, I’ve always been a drama queen. Ignorance treatment probably hurts the most, and that’s what I’m being given. I hate it, hate myself for it.
And yet. Yes, this will partly be a loveydovey rant because I damn well feel like it. When I call you, hear your voice, it’s all just the slightest bit better. Even if you don’t know what to say because you want to help but don’t know how, even if you just say you love me and miss me and whatever, even if it’s just TOO FUCKING BAD TO HANDLE it makes the shitty stuff just a little bit better.
Thinking of you makes me cry, because I want to be with you so badly, just pack my bags and go and never ever look back, this place only makes me feel bad. Like I’m worthless, I don’t belong here. They’re all probably right. But when I’m with you, I don’t have to worry about that. When I’m there, all that’s on my mind is running my finger down your cheek, trace your lips, listen to your heart as I cry on your chest because I feel so hopeless.
I want to run, have the wind in my face and cry until my lungs give in, until I fall panting to the ground because that will stop my head from thinking. My heart is retreating again, protecting itself and building tall walls because those will keep the pain away. I hate those walls. But then again, they are familiar.
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| That song, that summer... |
[Wednesday
%
%monlong%% 19th, 2008
at 10:34pm] |
I was just sitting listening to my lastfm recommendations and this song came on. I've not heard it in years but it took me back, way back. It came out the summer of 2004. That was the summer I was 18 and dressed in candy-coloured swishy skirts. It was the summer I really grew up, in more ways than one. It was the summer I first fell in love, the summer we walked down Buchannan Street together eating McFlurry ice creams as I tried to make myself seem more interesting than I was at the time. It was the summer we fell onto his bed giggling and he thought my "Little Miss Naughty" underwear was cute. It was the summer he tried to teach me to play bass but failed because I looked too sexy with a bass guitar on, the summer we lay on the grass outside the university library for hours in the sun, simply holding each other. It was the summer he failed his exams and didn't care, the summer I thought I had met my soulmate.
Even though that summer and that relationship are long gone, the song's still here, and it'll remind me of all these lovely moments for the rest of my life.
What about you gypsies? Tell me about songs that remind you of your first love, or just the memories you have.
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| more from the doll. |
[Wednesday
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%monlong%% 19th, 2008
at 2:18pm] |
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every time you touch my thin skin,
i am greatful for being alive, to soak in the sun splashed smile written on your weathered face.
i am greatful to feel, to glide my finger tips along your cheek bones and know that underneath,
you are a wizard, a teacher, a mentor for my ages.
all of my one and a half stages.
my rampant, knowledge seeking powers that keep you up at all hours.
ending in spills of giggles and gushing with praise.
you are a tall rock in an ocean.
i cling to your bumpy waist and feel,
solidity in your reverie.
your history,
your maturity.
your aged taste.
buds,
i am your tiny doll, not dancer.
im too clumsy,
and you like it.
when i fall.
because it makes me laugh.
and thats what you like best.
when my face crinkles up. when i've caused another mess.
on your behest.
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[Wednesday
%
%monlong%% 19th, 2008
at 4:47pm] |
this is about not wanting to leave out any details, not wanting to miss a beat, not wanting to forget a moment, a smile, a smell, a taste. not wanting to forget the color of anyone's eyes, the sound of anyone's voice, the shape of anyone's hands.
this is about coffee and clove cigarettes and layered clothes, messy hair, beatup shoes, dirty hands and dirty nails. sore throat from screaming into the wind. sore eyes from constantly searching searching searching for i don't know what.
and this is about you, yr hopes and fears, yr dreams and nightmares. tell me yr secrets. tell me what inspires you.
this is about staying in bed all day while rain beats on the window, while brown leaves float through a bruise-colored sky. this is about old books, the beautiful pattern of words on yellow paper, the smell of dust and memories and make-believe.
this is about peter pan and wendy, about not wanting to grow up even though we know we're not children anymore. we stay up late with the windows open, smoke blowing out, cold air coming in. we sleep in our jeans and dirty t-shirts, ready to slip on shoes and have an adventure at a moment's notice.
this is about the sick-sweet smell of 99-cent incense, marijuana, camel menthols, marlboro 27s, and cake-scented body spray. and scent is the sense most tied to memory. i will always remember strawberry lips and blondehairhaloes and greengold eyes that give away lies.
this is about sharing our body heat, our clothes, our cd's, our drugs. this is about us. this is all about us. me and you against the world, kid.
and this is about the words coming so fast i trip over them and forget where i'm going. this is about getting lost on the road to nowhere. about sparing for change at gas stations so we can get to the next town.
this is about you sneaking up on me in my dreams. and the way i awake and feel for you next to me. you're not there, but i can imagine yr head on the pillow, yr hand on my hipbone, yr covergirl eyelashes that make me so jealous.
this is about the music that flows through all of us. this is about the way i carry you in my veins. this is about my heart pounding with my feet, my hands grasping for everything. i'm hungry, starving, for fresh air and guitar chords and open maps and djarum blacks and converse hi-tops and black blue orange red hoodies and stars in the sky that i'm always looking to and you. all of you. every bit.
that's what this is all about.
the way you hold my arm when we're drunk, the way you squeeze my shoulders when we've been awake for 36 hours straight, the way you lay yr head on my lap and close yr eyes and let me play with yr hair.
this is about running from the cops and running blindly into the future. and laughing -- we're always laughing laughing laughing even when we aren't speaking.
the way you always seem to know exactly what i'm thinking.
the way you cook breakfast for me at four in the afternoon.
the way you wake me up and say, "do you need a cigarette?"
the way we shout with our favorite songs as we ride down backroads with the bright lights on.
this is about mix-cd's and pawning our shit so we can go to shows and writing lyrics on my bedroom walls, in notebooks, on our hands, on each other. this is about matching tattoos, matching scars, matching ideas, matching souls.
this is about "soco amaretto lime" and "you must be willing" and ted leo and drug money and lil wayne and the way we hug each other.
this is about tarot cards and bob dylan and hwy 41, hwy 74, i-75, euclid ave, moreland ave, ponce de leon and his fountain of youth.
this is about running out of paper, running out of ink, running out of gas, but never running out of ideas, never running out of inspiration, never running out of love, and refusing we're running out of time. 'cause we can't, we can't run out of time. when you take everything else away, all we have is time.
and each other.
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[Wednesday
%
%monlong%% 19th, 2008
at 12:03pm] |
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Hi Gypsies! I need your help!
I am having some issues with accepting things and being happy with my current life. I am the one my friends go to for help and advice, and it's extremely hard for me to admit I need it and ask for help myself. I'm always paranoid of sounding like I'm having a pity party and being self involved and shallow. You're probably wondering what my point is by now, yes?
Well I am here because you guys are all so amazing and inspiring, and I guess when it comes down to it I'm looking to be inspired.
I've always been a pushover - too afraid of hurting feelings or people not liking me if I ever said no to anything. I don't like confrontation and have gone way out of my way to avoid it throughout my life. I feel like this aspect of my personality has sort of taken over and is really hindering me. I feel like my energy is constantly being used to help everyone e and then when I have time to do things for myself I just feel drained and don't care about anything.
Lately, I find myself being incredibly angry all the time - usually over something small - and basically hating everything. I have always loved art, reading, writing, music, going out, crafts and things like that but lately I don't care about any of it because all I think and feel when I start a project is "what's the point?".
I've let it go for so long that now all I can think about is saying "fuck this" and moving somewhere and starting over - but I know what wouldn't magically fix it. And I really don't want to have it get to that point one day and just explode.
Basically I guess I'm just looking for some suggestions of how to get it together. Does anyone else ever get in a funk like this? What gets you out of it? <3
(Sorry this is so long, and if it's not appropriate you can delete it)
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| Just two.. |
[Monday
%
%monlong%% 17th, 2008
at 7:19pm] |
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( ++++ )
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[Monday
%
%monlong%% 17th, 2008
at 11:20pm] |
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( Photos )
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