MJR Destination

 
Flight plan locked in. Headquarters acquired.
Destination: Visa Pour L’Image, Perpignan, France.
August 29 – September 04, 2009
MJR photographers representing:
 

© Mustafah Abdulaziz

 

© Matthew Craig

 

© Ying Ang

Mad Girl’s Love Song

 

 

 

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

– Sylvia Plath

One of these mornings

Summertime, time, time,
Child, the living’s easy.
Fish are jumping out
And the cotton, Lord,
Cotton’s high, Lord, so high.

Your daddy’s rich
And your ma is so good-looking, baby.
She’s looking good now,
Hush, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby,
No, no, no, no, don’t you cry.
Don’t you cry!

One of these mornings
You’re gonna rise, rise up singing,
You’re gonna spread your wings,
Child, and take, take to the sky,
Lord, the sky.

– Janis Joplin

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gold Coast hinterland, Australia – Roadtripping

Mid-year checkpoint

The month of July, 2009, began in Africa. Sounds epic, huh… Well, it was. Working with the local community in Mtsiliza, Malawi, was a moving and grounding experience. I met some very special people, made some very important personal discoveries and was reminded of all the things that I loved most about being a photographer. A briefly sweet interlude in Nairobi on the way back to Australia, accompanied by a missed flight and unplanned extra night in Singapore, meant enough time to kick it with some people in my life who I don’t have the opportunity to see quite as much as I’d like. This is all in the first week of this month.

I won’t bore you with a day-by-day account of the next 12 days (wow, is that all?), but suffice to say that I hit the ground running and was on a plane again 2 days later, flying interstate to photograph a lovely Argentine, before finally making it back home again long enough to do my laundry.

So here we are, yingangphoto.com updated, wearing clean clothes, cooking in my often neglected kitchen and working on a new portfolio for MJR…

 

*July Playlist: The Smiths*

Like you used to

The passing of time
And all of its crimes
Is making me sad again
The passing of time
And all of its sickening crimes
Is making me sad again
But don’t forget the songs
That made you cry
And the songs that saved your life

Do you love me like you used to?

– The Smiths

 

 

 

Hasselblad magic

Gold Coast, Australia – Photo shoot with Emma Ishta for Gary Yang Collection

I was supposed to be assisting. Then I whipped out the Hasselblad, cocked it and fired. I couldn’t help myself. There’s just something so satisfying in the sound of that shutter going off… and also the discovery of long lost scans.

Beside me

 

 

 

 

I wandered through a dark place and sought you out
Between the blackness of the people and the night
By the fire, by the tree
He walked beside me

Breath warm down my neck

The Argentine

 

Sydney, Australia – photo shoot with the Argentine for Deshabille

Best thing about Australian photo shoots: Vegemite on toast and tea for breakfast as soon as you walk in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sweet Georgia

 I’m in Georgia, Georgia, sweet Georgia
No peace, no peace I find
Just this old, sweet song
Keeps Georgia forever on my mind
Just an old sweet, sweet song
Keeps Georgia forever on my mind

 – Ray Charles

 

© Rena Effendi

 

© Rena Effendi

 

© Rena Effendi

 

© Rena Effendi

 

© Rena Effendi

Heart shaped hole

I write.

And carry with me, a heart shaped hole in my chest.