Uploading pictures. It’s been a while my good friend.
Hoarding raw pictures seems like my unwanted habit lately. After
seeing all the splendid photos in Facebook and Pinterest, frustrations knock and
scratch on my door. Sigh. Every day, I
die a little.
Who say’s I’m good in taking pictures?
My mom. Thanks Ma. I love you.
Yeah. I don’t have the eyes of Kazuha Matsumoto and the lens of Florian Ritter. BLATANTLY.
Y’know, I’m just an ordinary hobbyist who loves to eat…Ugh, I
mean, who loves to take pictures for expression and impression. [NOTE: I used the word “impression” as a noun which means: an idea, feeling, or opinion about something or someone, especially one formed without conscious thought or on the basis of little evidence.]
Tonight, I finally opted to
express what I have been trying to trot out 3 months ago. Yes, 3 months ago.
(Sorry if I have to say it again. Just for “emphasis”, okay? Deal with it.) I
had a photoshoot session with a superb theater actress and singer namely Liz. I asked
her to convey an affectation of sadness and sorrow. Thus, the photos not only connote
emotions but also stories of dysfunctional relationships… with your family,
friends, almost lovers, past lovers, inedible pizza in your refrigerator, neighbors,
aliens and even your pets.
PRECAUTION: The words that you
are going to read after this sentence are highly dramatic. Unbearable? Click X
NOW!
The Ghosts of the Past
“Reason and logic seems to fly out of the window, banished
by the seductive siren’s song of the past.”
