There have been moments in my life when I’ve had to let a fanciful dream go. The first came when I was about eight: I realised that the chances of me ever becoming Enid Blyton were slim, perhaps even nonexistent. The second painful realisation came when I realised that I wasn’t going to make the grade for the 1996 Olympics. (I had only been in the state relay team in 1992 because the backstroker pulled out.) Yet another crushing disappointment.
And now, at an indeterminate age in my mid-to-late twenties (I’m still clinging on to ‘mid’), I have realised that I probably won’t be a world-famous photographer. One look at Reuben’s photos made me realise that I’d best stick to holiday snaps and utilitarian journalistic shots. Reuben is an old friend who has been on sabbatical in Tokyo for the last six months, and his photos are simply glorious. They capture the strange, soft light and fluorescent buzz of Tokyo that sends me into a tailspin of nostalgia. I begin to see cherry-blossom petals drifting before my eyes and smell the toxic stink of Shibuya. Ah, the memories.
The beautiful Mia stars in photo #2 and the equally gorgeous Manabu in #4. More photos by Reuben on Flickr.
:: Arwen ::
Oh What Larks 