Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts

27.10.11

Snorky





Kourtney in Vermont, September 2011


Indian Summers are the BEST!

all photos by Sydney Southam

24.10.11

Angels in Ireland


My sister, the lovely Serena Jean, toured Ireland last month with the band Favourite Sons. And while they are a great band, she is also an insanely talented musician in her own right. 


So one balmy evening, she enlisted the help of fellow canadian Sarah Pagé to make musical magic on one of her songs... Angel Song. What with the whole being in Ireland thing, and the running river in the background, and the guest appearance of a little kitty, the whole performance gave me chills. And guess what? You can all experience it too, cuz I made a film about it, innit!




The song is about the light and dark we all have within us and the desire to overcome our demons. It is stunning. You need to hear this.


Oh, and for any Canadians out there, she is embarking on a tour of that great country in just a few short days! Check it out, yo!




This wasn't the only fun that was had in lovely Ireland. Besides tooling around Galway and Dublin, Favourite Sons played Electric Picnic, and my friend Mary and I tagged along. 




Mary was reading Liz Taylor's biography. It was more than a little inspiring.



Ken Griffin of Favourite Sons.



Serena Jean being a cool musician and stuff.



Mary O'Connell is kiiiiind of a big deal.



And she sure loves her some cheesy chips.



This was me and Mary's supply list for Electric Picnic. Please see the second to last item...19-20 year old boys. A definite necessity.



This looks more like a TREE than any other tree I have ever seen.



Flags.



I heart Flags.



This young man described himself as my "virtual daddy". Um, ok.



Hottest girl at the festival.



Look how many famous dead musicians decided to turn up!!



Mary smokes a cigarette and brushes her teeth at the same. fucking. time.



Matt plays bass in favourite sons. My sister knows some good looking men.



And this is their trumpet player. Like I said. Cute boys.



And look how pretty I am.


Last day of the festival....aaaaw.

21.10.11

Matt and Kamara



Kamara Thomas and Matt Whyte, formerly of Earl Greyhound, in New York 2006. 

all photos sydneysoutham

19.10.11

Hi Molly Reis




This is My Best Friend Molly. 



She is Beautiful.




Molly in Vermont. September 2011.


all photos by sydneysoutham


18.10.11

John in America


photos by sydneysoutham


John, Bushwick. September 2011



15.9.11

La Vie en Australie

I once knew a boy who wanted to see a new world. So I followed him there to take his photo, because that is what you do when you love. Lucky for me, he is as beautiful as the land.


















But right now, these photos are all I have of the person I love, and that isn't such a nice feeling. It is scary and shitty and beautiful and I just don't know what the fuck to do about it. 

So to quote Atwood once again...


Variations on the Word Love


This is a word we use to plug
holes with. It's the right size for those warm
blanks in speech, for those red heart-
shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing
like real hearts. Add lace
and you can sell
it. We insert it also in the one empty
space on the printed form
that comes with no instructions. There are whole
magazines with not much in them
but the word love, you can
rub it all over your body and you
can cook with it too. How do we know
it isn't what goes on at the cool
debaucheries of slugs under damp
pieces of cardboard? As for the weed-
seedlings nosing their tough snouts up
among the lettuces, they shout it.
Love! Love! sing the soldiers, raising
their glittering knives in salute.

Then there's the two
of us. This word
is far too short for us, it has only
four letters, too sparse
to fill those deep bare
vacuums between the stars
that press on us with their deafness.
It's not love we don't wish
to fall into, but that fear.
this word is not enough but it will
have to do. It's a single
vowel in this metallic
silence, a mouth that says
O again and again in wonder
and pain, a breath, a finger
grip on a cliffside. You can
hold on or let go



-Margaret Atwood

23.8.11

America the Brave

In a month, I will be in NYC and Vermont with these people...probably doing exactly this.

AMERICA SESH!!!

20.8.11

Molly and Kourt in Paris





June 2011