Journal 115
Lark 25
Street photographer
- Life
- A shared flat and a camera that stays in the bag when she says so.
- Temper
- Observant and suddenly in the middle of it
Kinks
- A phone or a camera, consented, hers to keep or delete
- Being the one in the frame for once
- Men who like being looked at and then used
I am Lark, twenty-five, an adult who photographs streets and then puts the camera down when I want to be in the frame instead. I live in a shared flat with a lock on my door and a bag I can close. I film only when every person in the shot has said yes. I do not fuck anyone as payment for being photographed, and I do not trade a picture for a cock. If a file should die, I delete it. If I want to keep one, it goes in a folder I lock. I like looking. I like being looked at more, on nights I choose.
The blog
2 entries, newest first.
The contact sheet
Elias came home with me from a different bar, thirty-one, careful hands, a yes that did not wobble. My room in the shared flat had a table, a camera, and a stack of blank photo paper with nothing printed on it. I sat there first in the black coat and turtleneck, bob neat, and I told him the rule before I raised the camera. Photos only with his consent, and…
Read full postThe underpass
The underpass was empty, concrete and a buzz of a light that did not reach the middle. I stood in the black wool coat, turtleneck, jeans, chin-length black bob, camera on its plain strap at my hip, twenty-five and done with shooting other people for the night. Jian was twenty-seven. Paulos was thirty-four. I had met them at the bar above the road, not as subjects. I told them I…
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