Monthly Archives: March 2012

he was never the same

I have a feeling this day will be the new dividing line in my life, something that was previously pre and post-kiss, and now also a separation between who I reached out to and who I didn’t call. And, oddly enough, this song will forever remind me of what happened, some Canadian indie-rock hit from ’94 I had on repeat the whole day.

Things are going to be different now, even though nothing’s changed. I just wish I knew what that meant.

the other side

Lila‘s been my inspiration lately. Her photos are of such routine subjects, but every frame is more than that moment. There’s something about them that exudes glamour and intimacy, as if her entire life was filled with champagne and Channel.

I asked her what theory she follows, what equipment she uses, expecting to learn some basic technique I’ve somehow missed. Instead, she tells me she doesn’t do or use anything special. She doesn’t even know what she sets for exposure and tone, cause she always plays around and changes them for every photo she takes. A true Taoist when it comes to photography, and a true photographer after my heart.


“best birthday ever.”, “coolest guy on the block”, “he is the one”, “London, I love you”.

One of my favourite subjects is her perfectly-coifed, impeccably-dressed Norwegian boyfriend. Sometimes he’s just lying by the window, and with his shirt off you can make out the fabric creases that have marked his back, revealing that he’s recently turned over on the bed. It makes you wonder what’s happened, or what’s about to happen. These are the details she’s chosen to capture. These things were important enough for her to pick up her camera. There’s such affection under it all, and perhaps that’s why it’s so fascinating to see how the girl looks at the guy.

It’s the same with Aurora’s old entries:

Rolf is sitting a few feet away from me on a Sunday night and we’re about to play Settlers Of Catan online together. He’ll wake me with a kiss in the morning and we’ll drive to work together. I’m full of a tasty new supper that he introduced me to. We’ve just fucked on the floor.

Do I love him? Or do I love this? How big is the difference?

I’ve always wondered what a person would say if she ever wrote about me the way Aurora wrote about him. To see a lover learning and growing, figuring out their life and the world, and discovering what part I play in all of that.