Brook Mckeon keeps taking crappy cameras to the gold coast. Here’s why.
Santa Cruz on film, in monochrome and colour.
The blurry months post-highschool graduation, everything understood and forgotten and lost and learnt.
I love using film because it makes you really think about what you want to take a picture of, there is no deleting and once you press that shutter the photo pretty much exists forever. There’s also something nice about not knowing what the photo is going to look like until its developed, it really forces you to trust yourself.
rolls of film drenched in pink hues, shot on a busted old Ricoh. (two weeks in sri lanka).
My friends and I are always doing shit that I know we will forget about so I just want to document those moments from the perspective of a participant. Beauty is in the imperfections. All images are shot on film and un-altered.
exploring the youth of Hong Kong, and the detachment of growing up in an international environment.
a celebration of the teen eye. a nod to every phase, every rebellious streak, every kiss, tatttoo and religious confession,
shot in may/june/july, developed in september. “we unclip our life jackets and dive under, pushing our hair back.”
Passage by Zerkalou Last year, most of my friends and I were exiting our high school phase into the idyllic post-adolescence of adulthood, which of course, is strife with malaise, a perpetual confrontation with inadequacies as both artists and people, and ultimately, without proper guidance or assurance whatsoever. As we tried to come to terms with our new, “mature for our age” adult selves, I don’t think we could ignore that we ended up becoming even more like the high schoolers we wanted to be back then. We hung around each other’s houses until 3AM watching movies and laughing, all the while knowing we had our typical minimum wage jobs to run off to a few hours afterwards. We ran around our plastic suburbs and quaint valley towns, taking goofy pictures until the hours became their dim, melancholic blue; and we drifted around the empty city streets in each other’s cars, watching the clementine lights whir by as we tried to set aside the malaise we were all secretly feeling. There were of course, those rare, …
Finding sugar in the folds of our sheets the next morning. I think, sometimes, I forget how to be 15.
from disposables to dark room development.