life ablaze

life ablaze


Deia, a teeny town hidden in a valley in the north of Mallorca, Spain.  Unknown to many except the Gypset crowd, we had been planning our tour for a year.  Arriving at midnight slightly worse for wear after many an interesting encounter with cheapo espagnol car rentals it was not until morning that we discovered the beauty of our surroundings.  Sun bouncing off terracotta roofs it was better than we could have ever imagined.  

These three girls, a Yank, a Brit and an Aussie became infamous in the town.  Most especially at Sa Fonda, the local bar, where whisky was fast our friend.  The owners and bar tenders too.  We let our hair down and were punished with pounding hangovers and an hour long expedition to the beach only five minutes away.  However, it was all worth it, as for five days we would wake and sleep to these towering hills, to light that only seemed possible in a painting.  We the lucky ones.


One Sunday evening two girls, overdressed and underclothed, braved blustery winds to watch the sun set over Deia.  Clicking the shutter continuously, as if it was going to be our last day, as if we had never seen such fairy floss skies, we tried to take it all in but knowing that these photos would never really do it justice.  That night, that time, that place with my dear friend, the smell of sea and earth are so present with me now and at the same time a distant memory, as if but a dream.  


On our last night in Deia we dolled up for dinner at La Residencia.  It was the perfect way to end our Mallorcan sojourn.  With the sun setting, the piano man serenading us with ‘La Vie En Rose’ and the most perfect martini, all was ripe for a totally cheesy, absolutely stunning evening. We drank it all in, hypothesising as to when we were to return, but next time to suites in this establishment, bien sur. 

We travelled from far and wide to the Domaine.  Just outside Ambillou in le vallee de la Loire, La Trigaliere would be the site of one of the most beautiful weekends in memory.  Two of the best, Loulou and Guillaume, were to be joined on Saturday June 7th.  We were there to bear witness, to smile, to laugh until our cheeks hurt, to make merry and dance until dawn.  We answered the call with gusto.  

For over a year we had counted down, discussed in detail, weighed our expectations on this reunion.  Finally it was here.  At last we were all in one place, even if just for two days.  What follow are snapshots of some of the loves of my life and the lost weekend.  

I wish I had taken more photos, that I had been able to press pause, replay, rewind.  I wish we all lived in one place.  I wish for a thousand more weekends like this one.   But, in the mean time, I remind myself of how lucky we were to have had this time, that we have eachother and who knows… perhaps the best is yet to come. 

Saturday the 7th came and Loulou was calm.  She was to marry her cat.  All was right with the world.  

The morning passed in the blink of an eye, in a flurry of flowers crowns, pain au chocolat, hairspray and pearls, eight girls got a’ready.  Not even the most minor hiccup (we had been forgotten and were stranded) would dampen the day.

 Breaking my ‘no ugly crying’ promise, I was a goner the minute we entered the church.  Vows exchanged, kisses too, rose petals flung and cheers sung - Ambillou had never seen such a parade!

Back at the Domaine it was time to eat, drink and be merry.  We did this. For many hours in fact.  The sun rise our only curfew.  

"Hair of the dog for 80 please barkeep"

We nursed our heads on grassy knolls, regaling each other with tales of debauchery from the night past.  Too happy to acknowledge the limited time left we lived each precious moment to the fullest.  Time stretched it seemed to give us this beautiful day.  The final one.   

Best Sunday.  Best weekend.  Best memories.  

Here’s to Mr and Mrs Lechat!


More recently I had the pleasure of shooting Sydney band YOKE for their upcoming EP launch.  Battling barbed wire but finishing with dumplings we had f.u.n.   Listen to their fine tuneage here.  


Months and months ago I shot the oh so talented and oh so beautiful, Alexandra Ward, aka Moon Holiday, for the awesome World’s Only Magazine.  The planned three hour shoot quickly became six as we played in Redfern.  Above are some of the outakes that didn’t make it on the website.  

My friend Meg, the Editor in Chief of WO (pictured with basket above), is a serious force to be reckoned with. Having begun the magazine, solo and self funded just two years ago, it is now stocked at the MCA and the Serpentine Gallery in London, among others.  Her hard work and vision have landed her government grants and in just over a month a residency in New York.  Miss Clune and her zine are going far and I feel honoured to have been asked to contribute.

Stay tuned for Issue V which will include a photo shoot of Rainbow Chan par moi! 

Hot Mess in The Tropics

Port Douglas, Queensland

#thattimeIdidn’trememberfilmwasnmycameraandopenedit #lightleaks #forrealsies