a few pictures of the city i love, and moments; smoke rises over this town of now, and it's your fault, it's your fault, your fault, suddenly everything turns soft, the blocks of cement look scary and all i know and have is moloch, moloch, moloch, there's quite a gap between a to b and i thought it's okay but in reality i just want to look at stars and watch the poems glow in the sky, tears are bliss, we will enhance our lives by ten and spend drunk nights in deep feelings of lightness, smoke rising, we will glow in words and flows and the whole world will envy us, because who could ever understand and follow all this?

stole from others here


london, not yet not yet i miss you

i can sing this song so blue
that you will cry
in spite of you

you get to miss the sunshine pretty quickly, and the sea breeze too, and the narrow alleyways with the balconies floating above your head, with their beautifully arranged fake flowers and their laundry hanging on their strings, you start missing the wonders you are allowed to wear on your face, the palm trees and the aching feet that make you drop into bed too early, the aching eyes that make you get out too early, and all of that happens so soon, every moment is already gone and sad, i am getting old.

barcelona, easter 2014, so many things these days.

First photoshoot in a long while; credits:
Make Up and Hair: Laura Naish
Model: Felicity Allman
Make Up Assistant: Chloe Eccleston
Dresses:
Beatrice Winter
Seiko Fujino



Published in Dea Magazine [Issue 6].

winter evenings, creeping over empty skies, after cold awakenings from nights that seem detached from everything else, every episode so lonely in itself that no string is strong enough to string the events together. suddenly details matter, and that's unnerving and that's thrilling, and things are beating again although nothing's moving, all is based on falling in love with ideas of what people are. the S and G kinda living has left a long time ago, and the only moment in the day when it comes back just a little bit is that minute of blissful fatigue just before eyes are closed and true nothingness is found. the air is colder where i want to be, there's more space between my head and the rest, more space to rest.


VIENNA



A ROADTRIP











HOME

further and further away
into the sun

THAILAND


VIETNAM


NOWHERE

the cold sun throwing her soft light on the buildings and feeding the life of pre-christmas stressed out crowds, like a smile too silent to be heard, summer is a long time ago, too far away already to be me