Demo reel consisting of my (beauty/fashion) video work for @randytran.photography
A tremendous and warm thank you to everyone that had been involved in the process. You are all the real mvp’s 🤙 (I will dig my old emails for call sheets and tag).
I’m fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. “You” deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. It’s so soft. Warm. Just like you. I can’t go back to where you are. I’m needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Don’t forgive me.
I’m aware of these changes. I’m becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me — and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words — language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack
“A sense of foreboding clings to me heavily like the oppressive humidity of a summer night, much like the sticky tar on melted asphalt.”
Thank you to such a wonderful team for helping me see this project through. I fall short on proper words.
Cam op/assist: @she.yawn
Light assist/digi: Markjay Quines
MUA: @shu.zhang
Stylist: @tianyun___
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage
Banquet/ (PLAY)
“We play and play. Take and take. Uninvited, loud, greedy. Violent without warning. I’ve been spread so thin and emptied out, leaving no evidence of living. My spirit has since exited, renouncing the empty container of skeletal fascia and emaciated muscle fiber; Our anatomies still continuously contorting with one another in a desperate search for a god in these entanglements. Has desire outweighed love? How sad we must mingle our limbs in agitated abrasion, twisted and wrung. When did we even last have fun?
Reduced to become an obstacle to overcome, a conquest to complete; The supposed reward of meager efforts. So hollow I often find others so punitive in their desires, never to be held accountable and due for punishment. When was I last seen, if ever? I caution the weeping specter and her invisible tears.”
Video/photo assist: @she.yawn
Light asst/digi: Markjay Quines
MUA: @shu.zhang
Stylist: @tianyun___
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage
“The opera house is empty once more. This is a celebration of loneliness, the only thing offered to me; fantasized convictions and a fragile devotion dipped and lustered in disillusion. There is no sustenance in these haphazard offerings. An empty table, an empty banquet of love and shallow parlor fare. Must I become monstrous because of your attendance?”
MUA: @shu.zhang
stylist: @tianyun___
Video/Photo assist: @she.yawn
Digi/assist: Markjay Quines
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage
