Back in early 2014, before venturing overseas, I took part in my first photoshoot. A series of diverse photos were taken to capture ‘who I am.’ As I intended, these photos also became an core component of the book I was planning to write titled Living in Cream.
Just recently in early 2015, I ran into Shane, my photographer, at a careers fair on a local university campus. I was there to represent the organisation that sent me overseas, and he was there on behalf of the software engineering firm which he worked for as his full-time job. It was so unexpected and random, yet still so fitting.
The coincidence was perfect as Shane informed me that he had just submitted one of my photos into a renowned photography competition. As honoured as I was to be selected as one of his submissions, I’m even more honoured to learn that the photo was given a gold award!
Personally, the most enjoyable part of the opportunity was hearing others’ interpretations of the tattoo, the pose, and the finished photograph. If you visit this link Watch AIPP QLD – Portrait – Room 2 and skip 2 hours and 1 minute into the video, you can listen to the discussion. In particular, one judge can be heard saying:
He left me asking so, so many questions.. about forgotten children.. a racial thing.. um.. I don’t know. There were so many questions there that were raised […]
So allow me answer.
It was back in early 2013 that I got the tattoo. It’s the handwriting of a girl I once knew. I know tattoos in reference to ‘lovers’ are usually horrible ideas, but this was 3 years after we had split… which probably makes less sense. But given that it was my first serious relationship, and my age at the time; the whole experience was undoubtedly going to have a defining impression on my future and how I interpret myself as well as the world.
Having eventually processed my emotions, gotten to know other girls, and most importantly, myself; I decided on getting the tattoo. I recall it was specifically triggered by a situation where I questioned what the ‘old me’ would have done. She doesn’t know and I don’t want her to. We haven’t even had a conversation in 5 years so explaining it wouldn’t be easy… or necessary. As truth be told… it’s not about remembering her.
