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Tag Archives: Photography
Auckland
So I went to school in New Zealand. It’s beautiful. I’ve been all over the country and yes, it’s exactly like the Lord of the Rings.
Exhibit A, B and C.
My favourite places in NZ are Queenstown, Kaikoura, Wellington, Whangamata and all the tiny towns where tea shops sell whitebait fritter sandwiches, and smoked hapuka pies. (Wow, I’m 24 years old and I’ve been obsessed with weird, delicious food for a long time.) But I digress. I however lived in Auckland. I didn’t like it but it had its merits. Mostly my friends, my boyfriend, baking, West coast beaches, Kingsland, my football teams, the Comedy Festival, Kohu Road icecream, feijoa wine and vodka and Monteiths beer. This post is going to be gargantuan and largely food centric (It’s me?). Brace yourself.
Auckland does burgers well. Murderburger – love their blog and sense of humour, Burgerfuel – the doofer!, Handmade Burger and Burger Wisconsin. There may be more now but these were the places I liked. And you have to get kumara chips and aioli. Good pizza lives at Al Volo in Mt Eden and Il Buco on Ponsonby Rd.
Margarita slushies and nachos and boats every week with Farnaz. I once saw the QE 2 and drank chilli infused Mexican beer. The Viaduct and the other piers are awesome before 7pm. Never after. El Camino in Kingsland and Ahsi Itzcalli have delish Mexican (and the latter Yucatan too, I think)
I’ve been to every cute bakery in Auckland. Twice at least. Hayley and I used to call it research. We personify baked goods. Our favourite bakeries/cakeries are Queenies (my review!), Agnes Curran, La Tropezziene, Philippes Chocolat, Bakeshop (formerly Brown Sugar Kitchen), Le Petit Village, Little Cake Kitchen.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Auckland, Eat me, Guide, New Zealand, Photography, Reviews, Travel
Street Music
Yesterday I woke to the sound of drums. The occasion, the Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. I looked out of the window and there were people drinking and dancing in the street to a marching band. I can’t possibly explain how much I love street bands. I got a telephoto lens and sneaked a better view. Sometimes I love living in the ghetto.
Happy as a clam
Feel free to bypass this self absorbed update on my life and the indulgent things that make me happy. Mostly my new(er) apartment and my newly stocked (STOCKED!!) kitchen. Food and sunshine, who would have thunk it? I’m smitten with the world and Bombay again.
Twilight from my bedroom. And no, I haven’t seen any of the movies, ergo I am cooler than you. I love the light in my house. Sluuuurp.
My spice boxes (there was a bit of a mixup though), inventing recipes, planning ahead and making meals from scratch. French toast for breakfast tomorrow.
Pretty reflections in giant monsoon pools.
And for the few times I actually leave the house – wine, goats cheese pizza and sweet potato gnocchi at the sprawling Pali Village Cafe. Long boozy Sunday brunches at Olive, Mahalaxmi. High tea (they have DIY pani puri and the cutest sammies) at Sea Lounge at the beautiful Taj Mahal Hotel watching the boats. Note: These will leave you as poor as happy and also drunk and unable to take good photos.
Or better yet, get on a boat. I want a yacht. Argh!
On set chai. This is the best thing about the film industry. Beats egos, delays and odious little cunts hands down.
and lastly, going home to Pune to see my friends and the adorable olds. My grandparents are Goan and so kitsch, I did a photostory on them but I’m reluctant to share it just yet.
Also making plans for Europe – I’m going to Edinburgh, London and Paris next month and I’ve been scouring the internet for advice like a madhatter, trying to figure out how to bake a cake in my convection oven (I have to show you what kind of cake!), working for some amazing clients and sale season. I am but a girl after all.
Ultra violet
I don’t know how but in the span of a month, I found myself at two completely separate black light shoots. One was fun because I got to finger paint fluorescent tribal designs on some traditional feather and hide masks, the other because the dancers we dressed were fucking fantastic. Both were splendid, both I photographed. These pictures are from a song sequence in a Bollywood film that I worked on as wardrobe assistant.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Art faggotry, Bollywood, Fashion, Films, Photography, Sheena
Varanasi
I didn’t think I could write too much about Varanasi. I was petrified when we got off that train. It was midnight, there were bodies laid flat all over railway station platform and we were inundated with requests from rickshaw drivers. They’re very in your face and they thought we were foreigners until I ruined it for them with my awesome Hindi. But I was very overwhelmed and frightened. I spent all night looking through Varanasi photoblogs with our overpriced hotel’s wifi trying to make sense of the place. But the next morning, everything changed and I did. And Varanasi ended up being one of my favourite places.
Tiny alleyways through which no vehicles could fit led us at sunrise to the ghats, to the most stunning, surreal and unexpected view. We spent the morning walking the ghats, watching the babas pray and smoke chillums, people wash themselves and their clothes in the Holy Ganges completely unfazed by the tourist filled boats that sailed past. On the main ghat Dasashwamedh, we bought bracelets with the pictures of Gods, brass agarbati stands and lamps, and the best T-shirt ever which reads – No rickshaw. No hashish. No silk. No change money. No boat. No problem! which are all the things we got asked if we wanted. Countless times over. People kept taking our hands in theirs and demanding money for services like blessing us. Oh, we’ll pass thanks.
The whole place and experience was moving and enticing and raucous, dirty and imperfect and spiritual, and commercial and chaotic and colourful all at once. I spotted a super cool baba I imagined was once an art director fed up with city life and asked to take his picture and he grinned. The Ganga Aarti every evening is very special. It’s beautiful and hard to describe, feverish and fragrant with smoke.We prayed and released our little flower lamps into the Ganga which is something I’d always wanted to do.
I loved the magical light filtering through the claustrophobic alleys.It was nothing short of unsettling though. You can never know when you’ll cross paths with a moody cow or a (covered) corpse will suddenly appear behind you, mourners chanting ‘Bhagwan satya hai’ as they carry it down to the river to the two burning ghats.
We found the German Bakery there to be our favourite spot of solace, where we met lovely travellers and ate delicious organic food while listening to some live classical santoor and tabla.We moved to a guesthouse on the ghats so we could be closer to everything and at night it was especially eerie but wonderful, the sunrise even more so. We took a boatride at dawn to see everything from a different perspective which I recommend everybody does. We spent almost two hours on the water, witnessing some incredible things – from swimming schools to burning corpses. With a little more exploration, and a lot more cycle rickshaw rides (I loved!) to buy stunning silk scarves, and a lazy lunch at El Parador, an absolute gem of a restaurant with delightful service and delicious food; we bade goodbye to Benaras.
Also without sounding like too much of a pimp, I’ve created a little group on Bacefook for my work and I’d love if you joined. Spankies muchly.
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Grass
Nick Drake was (is) amazing. Yet nobody knew who he was until 40 years into the future.
And I went to Lonavala for the weekend
And at sunrise
We found a valley
Full of crystals
A waterfall and an infinite abyss
Everything was neon green
And I wore party shoes.
P.S. I finally have my baby back from the doctor and I’m shooting for Save The Children India in a little village this week. Roadtrips <3
BlowUp
I was having the worst day on Saturday. My SLR had a concussion and I lost my house in a disgusting minor flood. So I bounced from the cesspool to the super cool BlowUp Bombay to help out. Organised by Blind Boys, it was a street exhibition of photographs – around 600 I think taped to walls and woven mats hanging between trees and even within a desolate, decrepit house. There were many great submissions – some incredible photoessays, some so bad that they were kinda good. Half the fun was in the set up though I reckon so I’m glad I didn’t miss out on that. An artist and musician played an audio visual set – one played some great tunes while the other painted on canvas. There were some interesting themes and series – Life in Kashmir, bicycles, my relationship with my girlfriend, photos from 100 days of travel, an interpretation of loneliness in Bombay. I met five hundred amazing photographers or maybe a dozen or so. It was quite awesome and after Melbourne, it’s so lovely to see my new city’s street art culture flourish. Oh and a public dissemination model means people got to take the prints they liked home, leaving no trace of the event. Big ups to the cute kids who helped us set up – they were indispensable. Next up, BlowUp Pune.
This kid decided to be a walking photo installation for a while.
Teaching the kids origami.
Khush painted a mural.
Please excuse the hideous Blackberry pictures. They’re all I’ve got.
































































