Newwebsiteee

New Website

Good evening.
I have yet another website, please stop by.
I could never shake something Susan Sontag explained in ‘On Photography’. (I’m paraphrasing here) that a photograph is (at the time and still to many people) an object, something real you can hold and possess
I think this is why I always feel so detached from digital photography because it was never an object to begin with.
I want to stress (in perhaps a reactionary jolt) that my images are real objects.
So my new site is designed to allow you to see the images much larger so their online presence is more arresting, whilst at the same time leaving the viewer wanting to see more.
They are all crops of the originals so that it fills the screen’s ratio.
I did not make this site as I am entirely hopeless, but through collaboration and nepotism someone far savvier than I did make it (Tobias).
Anyways I hope you like it.

Runa

The sitter is a bizarre concept, I think about it until all words lose meaning. I am a photographer of people, but that is not all. As a photographer I am faced with a choice of camera, a choice of format, a style of printing, a range of apertures, an option of post production and as I mentioned a choice of ‘sitter’ or model.

There are a few photographs that have truly crept up on me over the years. Those few have seduced and drenched my daydreams and night dreams.
In fear of confronting the material on a regular basis I let it seep into me.
Let it haunt me and drag me into a violent worry and fascination that leaks into my every day.
These photographs have mostly been images of mystical and character-full women and of course these images are empowered by the choice of model.
It just wouldn’t work without ‘her’ the photographers muse.
She (to me) is ‘Pain’.
This very suffering binds Hana and me.
‘Suffering’ is an open acceptance of struggle, pain, and comfort in restraint,
in order to aid mental and spiritual control.
This binds us in understanding.

8

Hana and Sophie by me.

I’m scared to death of seeing it again.
‘It’, the psychic vampire, ‘It’ sucks life from me and expects love in return.
Never can you love so dry as that!
It asks me to teach that which I learnt, but I was never taught.
It’s impossible if you cannot help yourself.
How can you tell someone you love that they are closer to death than life?

\infty

Marysia (Next), Styled by Katie Burnett photo by me.

I think a lot about sex and death. More than I used to.
‘Old sex’ and ‘old death’, mostly my own.
Reliving the acts in my mind.
I also shake more than I used to.
I can’t help think that the two are connected psychically.
The shaking soul ruptures and rattles my body from the inside out.
I (My soul’s master) try to vanish illusions of the ‘objected world’s’ newness.
I wonder if then it might be free and able to flourish creatively.
For where ‘its’ creation lays so does our destruction.
I can not separate the two.

(±4Þ)

Hana and Sophie Styled by Prangsta Costumers, by me.

Should inhibitions and sentient being fail me,
I should like to act fully on instinct.
I shall pull alpha females apart, chew skin, throw blood, and bate men.
The bubbling and un-named impulses pound under my skin constantly.
I stand firm.
Instead, kneel down to that of fetish and worship.
Only then can I defy my instincts to focus on a new form of inhibition.