Archive for the 'In Grey' Category

• 05.06.10 Nobody But The Trees
  

  Just you and I
  and us
  and them
  lost together.

  
  
• 06.03.10 Life in Damp Places
  

  A butterfly or a moth
  A mouse or a rat
  Life in damp places
  Life lived uphill

  
  
• 02.03.10 Let the Light Touch You
  

  Passively drifting
  Glowing
  Existing
  Let the light touch you

  
  
• 02.03.10 A Bit Like My Mind
  

  Walking a forever staircase
  Happiness sits far away
  Forwards to the other side?
  A bit like my mind

  
  
• 23.02.10 Lately
  

  Lately, everything is flat
  No textures to touch
  Tastes are bland
  Breaths are disappointing

  
  
• 05.12.09 Remembering Youth Without the Smiles
  

  I was having a discussion with a friend about childhood
  and the time in our lives which shapes us the most.
  We talked about our grandparents’ failing memories;
  How they seem to lose most of them but those from a certain point in childhood remain vivid.

  
  
• 21.11.09 This Far
  

  Every time I read about somebody with depression,
  they say how if it was not for their
  partner/their kids/their friends/their pet,
  they would not have made it this far.

  
  
• 30.10.09 Half Underwater
  

  Something different.
  Something unusual.
  Something new.
  Something a little less ordinary.

  
  
• 30.10.09 Same Old Rage
  

  I like to tell myself that I don’t really hope for chaos.
  It seems an immoral thought to wish for mayhem.
  But with it comes excitement.
  A shot of adrenalin to temporarily cure any depression.
  It’s this I crave.

  
  
• 02.09.09 Eighteen Months
  

  In order for life to continue, life must be consumed. At the top of the food chain, our closet of skeletons is the biggest of all. The progression of mankind is the result of a history of violence. Our intelligence is thanks to murder.

  It’s hard for many to accept that a mosquito has no higher [...]

  
  
• 11.08.09 Promise Me You Won’t Remember and I’ll Tell You Everything
  

  My only motivation to write is to interrupt the pure, blankness of the page. It’s a struggle to bring myself to the task. A task… That must be why I fight it.

  During those several weeks I never saw it as a task. To pick up a pen and paper was a relief. It was a [...]

  
  
• 21.06.09 Embrace the Random
  

  There is no such thing as perfection. No matter how much one strives for it, the goal can never be reached.

  Many take their fulfilment from the pursuit. Many are happy with near enough. Many are never fulfilled. Never being content with the first, I have always found myself alternating between the two latter options.

  
  
• 12.06.09 White Wreath Day
  

  I had the date marked in my calendar well in advance. I had to ensure I actually remembered to check a calendar so that I could be reminded. I felt like a part of me would chicken out. I felt like for some reason I wouldn’t belong.

  I didn’t know why I felt it was so [...]

  
  
• 31.05.09 The World Seems So Quiet In Black and White
  

  The waters rose a little higher than usual. Most of them went home eventually. Some stayed to wait for a new experience. But most of the everyday attendees kept away. The new visitors brought with them new objects, new feelings. The essence was still there. Better…worse. It’s just different. And that’s just fine.

  
  
• 17.04.09 Chasing Storms
  

  Having recently completed a degree in Photography at the Queensland College of Art, I am embarking on a career in photographic art practice. With this newfound freedom from the educational structure I have begun working on several bodies of work.

  My work method adapts with my emotions and my concerns in life, and with death. Only [...]

  
  
• 21.03.09 Of A Tragedy
  

  so long
  clinging climbing crashing
  feet to torso dangling
  splashing sputtering suffocating

  
  
• 17.02.09 There’s No Poetry In Being Alone
  

  Loneliness may inspire poetry. Isolation may be a good time to write poetry. But there’s nothing poetic about the feeling of being alone.

  My image was used on the cover of a book entitled I Made You to Find Me by Jane Hedley.

  When the designer asked to use my image for a book on poetry, I [...]

  
  
• 27.12.08 I Need Someone To Walk Me Home
  

  I sit in front of my camera in 1000 pieces. I use tweezers to ever so carefully place the tenth and final aperture blade in place on top of the previous blade and underneath the first blades. They sit above another plate, which covers five more delicate shutter blades. It’s difficult to line up the [...]

  
  
• 31.08.07 Patients
  

  “Patients” began from looking into photographic history and in particular post-mortem photographs. It’s a journey through the modern art timeline and an analysis of the portraiture canon.

  The portrait is traditionally an interaction between the viewer and the eyes of the actor.