Hi. Apologies if you follow me on Instagram and you've been subjected to daily Instagram posts. I'm sorry, but I'm also not. I've been enjoying being able to express myself visually again. If you know me, you'll know that my camera was stolen, on the eve of my birthday no less. However, I was lucky enough to be surprised with a new one, a very special birthday present. I've been slowly exploring this camera, trying to make new memories with it, as the one I had before was rich with two years worth of memories.
How do I explain this photo series? Do I even want to? I feel like this one says a lot more about me that my previous one 'Where does the Love go?' in that it delves into my life even deeper. I am terrified. I cried many times when preparing this photo series, I cried when I took the last photo and let myself feel all the emotions that went with it. I don't know if I like how real the photo series is, I remember when I was preparing for it I used to it and just take in all the pain I was feeling. Where in my body did I feel this pain and how could I describe it, how could I translate it into something visual? Maybe this photo series depicts this pain too aesthetically, pain is not supposed to look beautiful. Again, I think I am trying to turn something negative into something positive. I think I will leave the photos up to interpretation. People will read into these photos however they like, some may not like what they see, but that's part of life I guess.
I am not an artist. At least not yet. I don't know what I can call myself. I am neither a photographer, something in between I think. I suppose I'm hoping that people can relate to the images in some way. The flowers are a symbol of something good, something pure, something alive. I think I'll take a break from photo series for a while, I've found that preparing these photo series is emotionally draining at times. Enjoy? Is that the right word? Who knows eh.
lies look like flowers, sometimes
how do you see the sun in your own eyes?
would you play make believe with me one more time? the illusions are much more fun to live in
what the confusion feels like: hands clawing at my chest
the emotions are enough to choke me, sometimes i just can't break free from them
the only way it's going to work is if i want me more than i want you. still working on it
you said that i had the ability to see the beauty in everything, no matter how small.
believe it or not, i can still see some beauty in myself, even if you don't
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