Bleak

Bleak

Washed out charcoal has a faded grey colour, nothing really special. It’s the most blasé colour, hue, shade or whatever you call it. It’s the colour of the sky on a cold December day right before it snows. It’s the colour your white shirts go when you don’t wash them, even though you wear them every day. Or like the bottom of your socks as they shred into gaping holes. It’s just a sad, pale hue that says absolutely nothing. It has no voice.

Reflections

What do you see when you look into the mirror? Is it a true reflection? Or is ­­­it flawed? Is it wrong to look in the mirror and only see flaws that you wish you could change? Is it wrong to dislike so much about yourself that you can’t see anything good? Is it wrong to wake up every morning wishing you were someone, something, else? Not that it would matter what you were, just as long as you weren’t yourself.

Blackadder gold

 A fashion shoot inspired by the summer heat and the predatory faux snakeskin-like jacket. 

Graffiti and pearls

This is my version of a party for Victoria Day weekend. The sun kept enroaching on my location so it was a race to get as many shots as I could. I'm sort of happy with these shots, they seem to be lacking something and I had no end of hair problems. Enjoy.

Who am I? - Self portrait

Who am I?

Look at me, look at my face, look into my eyes. Each time peel back another layer till you can finally see past every mask I’ve put up. What do you see? Can you tell me cause I don’t know what I look like. I don’t know who I am.

Lipstick and Brandy

Scarlet lips like cherries on a cold winter day. The graceful scorn of one perfectly arched eyebrow. The flutter of eyelashes, eerily reminiscent of the death throes of a butterfly.  She could rule me of by a single movement of her face. I loved her and loathed her. Such extreme emotions can easily overwhelm ones heart and mind so that he becomes unable to control his actions. I know I certainly couldn’t. Yet how I desperately wanted to. I wanted to be the man that she desired. Oh, she told me how I failed at fulfilling her desires. She would never let me forget my failures. That would be showing mercy.

On point under the moon

 A short while ago my friend, Britt, and I wandered our way downtown and took some photos. While the quality of these photos are not quite what we wanted them to be, I rather like the ghostly quality of the shots.  My friend is something quite amazing, a ballerina in the armed forces.