dawned upon.

Toronto. May 28th, 2019.
And I said, “I want to capture the emotion of having used a phenomenal power within yourself, and immediately regretting it, because it is too much.”

model: instagram.com/lilith.etch.mode

... naturally it assumes that 95% of faces are my wife's. not false.

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Lightroom Classic did not make me nope, and I have been making my machine crawl to a halt trying to identify faces for the past three days.

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Thought I'd try using Lightroom again, and nigh immediately noped out of there.

self portrait.
Toronto. June 29th, 2020.

This dumb self portrait brought to you by my spotify retrowave playlist and travelling back to 1985 to stop Reagan from getting his second term and setting into motion a fascist cyberpunk dystopia that we are actually living in 2020.

touch starvation.

Toronto. May 22nd, 2019.
I have not touched another human being in 3 months. I have not had a photoshoot since November. I don't know when my next one will be.


Not to mention, of course, the fact that I'm pretty convinced most of the people who have spontaneously joined my patreon were there to rip my content and post it elsewhere for free...

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It grates on me particularly, because I feel like patreon has set itself up as a storefront, which is antithetical to its namesake - patrons - who sponsored artists to create work they liked. They didn't just pay a month at a time to buy one painting.

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I have a patreon, but I rarely feel comfortable posting photography there. I only have two patrons, who are friends, but when I get any spontaneous joiners, they are very demanding. They expect photography. They are disrespectful toward other content. And they feel entitled because they paid (capitalism is a disease).

In the past week, I had two dreams with models I follow on instagram as prominent characters. I dunno if I'm just spending too much time on the app or if my brain is just conjuring up a wishlist in the most surreal way possible.

pretty much.

Toronto. October 17th, 2019.
This is basically how I’ve been feeling lately. Naked and exhausted.
Wait, is naked a feeling? A state of mind?

model: instagram.com/whitney.masters

it irritates me how obsessive I've become about choosing the correct crop for an image, these days.

never see another.

Barry's Bay. August 12th, 2019.

Dunno if i’ll see a lake in 2020. Don’t know if i’ll see a sky. Just the dense fog hiding scarborough, and i’m okay not seeing any more of that place.

model: instagram.com/sundaynightkid

Hatebunny boosted

please imagine me with a scottish accent. i don’t have one, but my ideal self does

our lady of ninja turtles.

Toronto. May 22nd, 2019.
I told her, the shorts were creating a risk that she’d look like April O’Neil.
She said, “So?”
Fair enough, I said.

model: instagram.com/hattie.watson

I can’t be the only photographer who has incredible anxiety about whether the model actually *likes* the images they’ve chosen to promote from their shoots.

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