An ode to memories...

I often wonder what happened to my memory. Have all those years of synthetic love and endless parties robbed me of any first hand recollection of my life? Are my only memories reflections of the dodgy black and white disposables or the pixelated juxtapositions poised on facebook pages; heightened moments often fabricated for the pleasure of the camera. Even besides those deborturous evenings my memories of growing up seemed like spinifex in the desert. But recently I rejoiced, for they are still there, buried discretely in the layers of distractive dialogue. Solitude has allowed them to rise again, vivid and wild, full of colour and injected with laughter. Random and without warning they grace my days in this foreign land, I'm so happy for what has been and for the mystery of what is to come.

And for all those times that seem forgotten, hail to the photograph.


:: J.P

Bangalow Glo

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Skirts of tule and delicate jewels laid their flavour on our day as we pottered labourously in the humble land that is Debbie's backyard. Fashion designer and collectorof wonderous treasures, our backdop became enriched by eighteen drying bra's, childrens toys, a chandalier and a .22 rifle.

Touched by the magical and very crafty hands of Andrea from Glo Hair Salon our two beautifuls ladies, Estelle Clapham and Kate Newton, giggled frequently as their hair became birds nests and their eyes were painted electric blue.



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Our backyard babes were elevated to elegant garden princesses adorned
with the unique and stunningly crafted Jewels by Jacqueline.

We blessed folks at Byron Bay Live seized the day and captured some goodies for your enjoyment. A big thankyou to all the beautiful femmes involved.



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