About
This website is my portfolio and pixelated scrapbook documenting my experiences and my love of photography; a stream of digital consciousness.
Yesterday was one of the best days I’ve had in a very long time. My Saturday was spent listening to Greska an Eastern-European jazz and classical influenced by traditional Balkan music followed by an scrumptious breakfast at Fat Boy’s. Stories were shared and friends made by the time we’d shopped around in Fortitude Valley.
The next stop in our adventure was Pinxto a Spanish tapas restaurant for lunch where we had House-Marinated Manchego and various other Spanish dishes. The table’s conversation was around cinema and the aesthetics of cinematography.
As time passed we agreed on migrating to Merthyr Bowls Club along the Brisbane River before finally setting off on the CityCat to see Hungry Kids of Hungary play at The Hi-fi.
Such an amazing day.
Unwanted, but breathing.
In the next room, sleeping.
My mother, she’s crying and my father’s been drinking.
In our run down apartment, where the roof is still leaking.
He’s cursing and cussing, it’s just the whiskey talking.
I’ve got lots of memories like this one.
Of empty days and nights spent tired and lonesome.
When I think back to all of it, it’s all too much when you’re just a little kid.
My little brother, just a newborn baby.
In the image of my mother, she says he’s a blessing.
But not to my father, oh how he hates him.
“An undeserving mistake.” He calls him a burden.
I’ve got lots of memories like this one.
Of picking fights and picking sides between them.
When I think back to all of it, it’s all too much when you’re just a little kid.
When I wake up in the morning it all feels like a bad dream,
one that follows you and haunts you endlessly.
Broken and beaten from the abuse and the cheating,
the addiction, the lying and the promise of leaving.
While my old man was a bastard, I admired and loved him.
Us two kids were born in to a family, not a fortune.
