antimodel

[antimodel]

Father daughter sunset lice check in the floating rattan slum village of Mandalay. A body of water about 100 metres separates the ghetto island from the maindland not far from from the fish market on the river. Much talk about the damn upstream in China and the water levels are topics du jour. The sound of the power grid shot gun exploding over the city and rolling blackouts are still commonplace amongst the perfectly alligned corn husks and legions of motor scooters. The locals don’t even flinch and pull their incense bics tethered to something near by shoelace and braided plastic bag that you can see the lighter fluid empty from the lighter it’s like Godzilla fire breather start fires on the side of the road to keep warm and for light from the darkness. Bicycle is savior in this town and map my ride is an inner deep brain psych evaluation or abstract art piece. slow local train to Hsipaw 12 + hours to go 200K #myanmar #burma https://www.instagram.com/p/Bq0PAbnHbwh/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1s2czqp9jjkzv

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Balloons over Bagan. Hello you want sunrise? In what seems like a Cocaine fueled frenzy masses refresh their temple.me apps to get the latest closures at o dark thirty before heading dangerously into the deep sand with half broken e bikes. Fish tails about the King and a heavy rain, an earthquake or seven and some free masons architectural prowess. What better way to thwart the competition than by cutting off your hands. And a sweet Vietnamese lady photographer with three selfie sticks takes my hand in hers and warms it up. You no can build better pagoda without hands. You want sunrise. He hawks sunrise views. You want climb temple. A rogue tourist sits atop a stupa in the foreground obviously disobeying warnings to not climb and part of me hopes he falls and doesn’t necessarily die but won’t be able to play for the rest of the season or at least eats some sand and gets a bad sunburn. (at Bagan) https://www.instagram.com/p/BqoFoYajFNP/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=35zxeof921rb

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Monks in training. Wandering the back alley slums of Yangon after sunset. Their debut album dropping soon across all platforms. An array of public baths, activated charcoal rabid frothing teeth brushing, board games with bower bird blue bottles caps, banana tops and coconut wedges taking place of the iron and the shoe and the dog on the monopoly board. Shwedegon Pagoda in like Park Avenue. Scooters are still banned and fermented tea leaf salad is the street taco or choice. More chili. There generator is busted on the Ferris wheel so the hotshot teens smoke in one hand scale the rusty trellaces like spider man to the top in seconds to spin the innocent bystander riders. Tea and rolling blackout. Thanaka faced makeup beauties. Move with the rhythm of the sun and cherish an hour nap at high noon and a hot shower. I want to hear the record. A pack of wild street dogs that look inconspicuously suspicious and a little xōlōitzcuintli on rogain with matching propellor scars to the funniest prints manatee. Beetle but spit looks like piles of blood and the quiet of the capitol with no scooters makes for clearer air travel for the pagoda bells and chants refracting off the gold leaf stupas. #yangon #myanmar (at Shwedagon Pagoda) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bqk7rXijnGB/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1uec3uxkku2w8

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I have resurfaced in the antipodes as Zombie Model for Halloween #zombesi - We trick or treated yesterday in town and got to meet the ex prime monster of New Zealand which was pretty novel and entertaining. I learned that Halloween and trick or treating is a rather new NZ custom. Guy Fawkes day next. What are you doing for Halloween and does your country celebrate with trick or treating??? I remember Halloween in Canada would always correlate with the first snow fall of the season spring has sprung and summer is upon us. Wearing: @zambesisince79 Photography: @marissafindlay Hair: @kellymanu_ Makeup: @dayoonnie #newzealand (at Auckland, New Zealand) https://www.instagram.com/p/BpnkK4GD7x3/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1ut99gmm9jx3e

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Oaxaca, Mexico. Dio de los Muertos. Fond memories of Oaxaca last year. St Augustin Etla, teaching a workshop with @brett_gundlock watching the Dodgers in the World Series on a small tube tv dangling from a makeshift metal containment vessel in the Xocalo, chasing turkeys in the central market, getting chased by street workers with their hula red thousand yard stare and shooting for Burn Diary. #tbt Photo by @_marktucker (at Oaxaca City) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bpm5f3SDE5c/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=dstl3gzh4uxl

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On the road to Cape Reigna. Symbolic offering of a tangled convoluted mess of an unspecified endemic winged creature complicated in some blunted barbed wire fencing not far from a government roadside sign with a toll free number to report wayward wandering livestock and other escapees, goats. Had to wipe my eyes dry of a midnight noir athletic stallion dappled in fertile volcanic dust spots chasing a late model Toyota Truck up a significant other incline with reckless abandon and missed the mighty giant the one that got away. The glorious mess lays in the shadow of The Kauri tree an intangible truth found only north of 38° south on the north island on Aotearoa some 3000 plus years old. The coffee and toastier truck parked on the side of the road blasting Kiki and talk radio thru a crackling fm transmitter at the entrance to show wash station was at first annoying then, endearing. One part Jurassic park, another Pacific Island ameliorated with the properness of her highness taking high tea and winter rose gardens with crsutless mini cucumber sandwiches environmental warriors and colorful licorice all sorts layered lollies that are meant to be tooth breaking bricks found on a crystalline candy dish ontop of a smile stained crocheted doily from the church swap meet with the bread tag hand written price tag still attached because of bad arthritis and swollen knuckles. The largest tree species in NZ the Kauri is suffering dieback root rot defoliation and bleeding sap. Rumor has that Feral pigs were responsible for the spread of disease ridden spores and there are now scientifically ceremonious foot washing stations to enter the forest. (at Te Rerenga Wairua) https://www.instagram.com/p/BpaQLuZDrxG/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=lmm6ia0ys3w4

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Southern Cross. (at Auckland Domain) https://www.instagram.com/p/BpDJZ0kDW2a/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1ou525t4yigvm

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The rare hanabi pyrotechnic tree native to particular parts of the Antipodes. When a good south westerly hits land and creeps its way ashore a shadow charade of the double dutching blade yielding leaf army parade in circus. (at Auckland, New Zealand) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bo_rYHChBqX/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=17sjbrvo2dlqo

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Mount Tongariro shying under the crackle snap and pop glow of the perfectly malaligned electrical man army guarding the ascent to the volcanic summit. (at Tongariro, New Zealand) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bo97jfchxYF/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1wchpe6cooj9w

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Skiing was my first healthy passionate obsession as a kid growing up in the prairies of Saskatchewan. I recall fabricating a particular paper maché mountain replicating the geoscape by deconstructing the mountain ski run maps. You’d get so lost in the illustrations and wander off into the million triangle tree forest. It was like unlocking a secret far away land for your imagination as a kid if you could get your hands on one of these maps. Before the internet. Val d’Iseré was a particular favourite as in primary school we were assigned to make a magazine. I took the liberty to make a 3D magazine and recreate the giant slalom run that you could tune the television into in the middle of the night and watch the races. I may also have turned it into a secret volcano for fun. We grew up skiing on a garbage dump outside of Saskatoon. Literally. Mount Blackstrap was a landfill that went into the frozen lakebed in winter. Maybe 45 miles out of town. Wednesday’s were night skiing nights. It was small albeit sufficient. The rockies were only 6-8 hours away and when we got old enough to drive would make memorable weekend trips. I’d love to see how accurate that maché mountain were to stand the test today. It was so detailed and even had a grooming machine that may have been a reworked farm machinery toy from a gift bag from farm days at the agrodome. White out on the Mountain @cardronanz - thank you for hosting us on our shoot for @zambesisince79 @remixmagazine @marissafindlay @bridgetlegnavsky @plegnavsky in the beautiful Southern Alps of New Zealand. It was truly such a treat to be able to respark something that played such a formative role in your development as a child. Snow will always be in my veins. And then, the storm came and had the funnest run down the mountain of my entire life in a complete white out. Visibility 0. (at Cardrona Alpine Resort, NZ) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bo76jAJhYyZ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=5413dnhami9c

[antimodel]

Skiing was my first healthy passionate obsession as a kid growing up in the prairies of Saskatchewan. I recall fabricating a particular paper maché mountain replicating the geoscape by deconstructing the mountain ski run maps. You’d get so lost in the illustrations and wander off into the million triangle tree forest. It was like unlocking a secret far away land for your imagination as a kid if you could get your hands on one of these maps. Before the internet. Val d’Iseré was a particular favourite as in primary school we were assigned to make a magazine. I took the liberty to make a 3D magazine and recreate the giant slalom run that you could tune the television into in the middle of the night and watch the races. I may also have turned it into a secret volcano for fun. We grew up skiing on a garbage dump outside of Saskatoon. Literally. Mount Blackstrap was a landfill that went into the frozen lakebed in winter. Maybe 45 miles out of town. Wednesday’s were night skiing nights. It was small albeit sufficient. The rockies were only 6-8 hours away and when we got old enough to drive would make memorable weekend trips. I’d love to see how accurate that maché mountain were to stand the test today. It was so detailed and even had a grooming machine that may have been a reworked farm machinery toy from a gift bag from farm days at the agrodome. White out on the Mountain @cardronanz - thank you for hosting us on our shoot for @zambesisince79 @remixmagazine @marissafindlay @bridgetlegnavsky @plegnavsky in the beautiful Southern Alps of New Zealand. It was truly such a treat to be able to respark something that played such a formative role in your development as a child. Snow will always be in my veins. And then, the storm came and had the funnest run down the mountain of my entire life in a complete white out. Visibility 0. (at Cardrona Alpine Resort, NZ) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bo76UcDBbeZ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=8xgvoie5jrre

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Snow storm atop Cardrona mountain in the Southern Alps. A million sparkly snow flakes exploded from the upper stratosphere trap door winter sky in a whirled choreographed effervescent unison to conceal the disposition of tracks from the snow white out sans 7 million sheep blanket of white out watching intently below at base road. (at Cardrona Alpine Resort, NZ) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bow5V7bBAFE/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=fu7d8g8fbghl

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Winter Wonderland. With a fluorescent pink cracked urinal cake in the terrarium and mothball hail sphere the perfect snowball fall to keep away the maggot infestation on the fresh kill. Roadside West Virginia or Kentucky would be a ski day day in the blustery southern New Zealand alps. 55cm of fresh pow and a total whiteout. Rememories of the late night drives thru the Mojave and the barrel owls streaking suicide truth or double dare across the single lane frame. #owl #🦉 (at New Zealand) https://www.instagram.com/p/BoKR4tFh34o/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1k5rpp2o63aje

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Corn starch and Icing sugar snow. Recipe parts for some kind of gluten full baked good you’d take around the fire in your merino will possum sweater and thick socks. A pile of mud filled rubber boots amassed at the front door like outside mosque, but different attire. Maybe take some high noon tea with your afternoon siesta and feed some newborn spring fluffy albino cotton candy lambs. Snowstorm in the south last night. Woke up in camp to crunchy grass and frozen water droplets that look art department made with cylicone jelly and look like titrated secret portals to parallel university, or the soothsayers crystal ball. But he might be a livestock farmer in disguise, or an elder Maori man appearing out of the seaweed to tell a story of the spirit of the whale. (at Bluff, New Zealand) https://www.instagram.com/p/BnzHOD9hyck/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=sonyb5gx1coz

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Woke up to a field of these guys foraging for road kill bunnies with the honkey tonkers. Mountain fowel. Their heards move in peculiar ways. One sheep sort of takes the alpha command lead and when he decides eminent peril they all hi tale it out of there without haste in clumsy union with their little twig like roast wishbone legs tripping in a side of night vision radar mint jelly. #newzealand #sheep #sheeps (at Aoraki / Mount Cook) https://www.instagram.com/p/BnuJVIyhvxj/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=hn7nn56cpbbm

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Mount Tongariro at sunrise. Evidently erupted 2012.Nov.21 says wiki volcano tracker - it seems like a bit of a disservice to call a volcano just a mountain. But the roll of Volcano Tongariro off the tongue doesn’t seem to possess the same particular charm. My first volcano love affair was in Sumatra. Everyone remembers their first Volcano love affair. It was a ‘super volcano’ whatever one has to do to achieve that status in volcanolandia, a lake in the caldera - lake Toba. Maybe you get a frequent eruppters card like at the petroleum station or diamond elite gold platinum in titanium to hang on the edge of your caldera? Hot molten lava. And then once, in Mexico City. The sky was raining ashes you could make snow tyres marks on the way to the train and ash angels all day long in the coyoacan. Then the poor souls who sit on the wrong side of the plane when flying over mount saint helens. Oops. And have to look out the window at the fluffy marshmallow mellow clouds. Maybe Fuji-San lurking in the right light on train right of the southbound Hikari super express. Volcanic memories... (at Tongariro Alpine Crossing) https://www.instagram.com/p/BnomF2WB_Qg/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=p3tgadp99cdm

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White snake drowning in a bottle of formaldehyde at the airport next to a bootleg YSL set of luggage, velveteen deer antlers, some hand grenades, elephant tusks and switchblades. (at Auckland Airport) https://www.instagram.com/p/BneqtFfhwh7/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=z7j90kgkhkyh