He hadn’t been to this kind of festival for ages. He had become one of those men who prefer the comfort of a cosy apartment to nights in a tent with pounding music all around and too much alcohol in their blood. He didn’t like the feeling that he was too old but he was a photographer and needed to work. He was sent there by a magazine specialized in those events and they paid well. What’s more it was a good opportunity to try out his new camera. Knowing its price he expected some miracle from his new “toy”.

He started with some random pictures. At the end of the day while watching them quickly something caught his interest. A blurry silhouette was on most of the snapshots. Someone, a woman for sure, passed constantly by his lens. He gave a closer look to pictures and noticed that she was on all of them as if she was following him and jumped in front of his camera deliberately. Sometimes she was far in the background; sometimes she took all the space. But she was never clear. Just a shadow and she never missed.
The following day he tried to find the shadow-woman in the middle of the crowd whilst doing his job. By the end of the day he had noticed nobody permanently around him. She must have gone.

He went back home and downloaded the pictures onto his computer. She was there. Not only on the pictures of the first day but on all of them. Also she was blurry. Just a blurry shape passing by again and again.
He was exhausted and this thing annoyed him. He decided to take a shower and to go to bed. He’d check it the next day at his leisure.

He woke up late, the sun was high up in the sky and he chose to have a walk and take more shots.
He went back two hours later and started to work on the pictures.
The woman was there, or rather the shadow-woman. He wondered if someone was kidding him but he realized how stupid that idea sounded. He stared at the screen watching all the pictures. She was there.

Two months after the festival he still used his camera trying to understand what was going on. The shadow-woman was keep following him. By the lake during the afternoon; In the narrow alleyway; At the party at his friend’s house.  But he couldn’t actually see her.
That was upsetting him. He tried to speak to some of his friends about it but they looked at him with incredulity. Nobody believed in his story.
Gradually he became afraid to use his camera. He felt he was spied on nights and days. Somebody was following him. Someone without real existence. He went out less and less. People turned away from him. They thought he got crazy and he had doubts, too, but he could see her in the pictures.

One day he decided to take pictures in his flat. The shadow-woman was sitting on the couch reading or watching the TV, sometimes brushing her teeth. But she wasn’t clear ever. Then he started speaking to her. She didn’t answer but she could hear him, he knew it. He found someone to speak to finally. He wasn’t crazy.

Tokyo, 35° floor of the Minato Tower, head office of  Nakon Society.
On the desk of the chairman was the thick file of the error reports of the new camera they had launched few months before.  Apparently a manufacturing fault created shadows in the pictures. They had to recall the entire product range the day after the launch. Millions of dollars invested in the R&D and the production was wasted for nothing. For nothing.

Photo by MrG; Story by Mlle Flou (with the help of MrG)

She speaks with him as often as possible. Almost everyday. It becomes a kind of ritual.
She wakes up, takes her breakfast. Quiet in the sun. Warm breeze on her skin.
She switches the computer on, hoping for him.
He’s here. He’s just little green symbol in the corner of a window but it’s enough to make her smile.
They speak. They laugh. They learn. They spend time together.
But it’s always too short. She could do it for hours and hours.

So, is it normal she needs it so much or is it a kind of addiction which have to be treated??

Photo by MlleFlou; Story by Mlle Flou

`How do you feel after the rehearsal? Does your new role make the change worth?

`Fully. It’s totally different to play this role of a young but extremely successful singer in a small theatre from being a young but successful singer and do gigs. It’s like parallel universes even if it doesn’t seem to be.

`People might think you don’t even have to do anything differently as this story is just about you…

`Yes and no. This makes them parallel but light-years away from one another.

`But you are rather familiar with being in the limelight and all the buzz, as far as I can remember your last few years.

`Ha-ha, Seven years is a looong time, you’re right, probably this is why I needed the change so much. Singing in that band with those beautiful people was a gift, a present from life. To sing everywhere, literally – on stages all over the world, from small clubs to massive festivals is something big. Really massive, you can’t just get away from it, it will be with me all my life. Like a heavy burden ha-ha.

`Exactly. You used to sing in front of thousands but now you’re playing for couple of hundreds. Isn’t it a heavy step backwards? A waste of your talent?

`You know the saying “Size is not important” …ha-ha-ha…What is important is the challenge. Those years I had the best kind of life someone could wish for. However, by the end I was dying.

`Nobody could notice you were having any kind of problem, you were blooming on stage moving the audience as you wanted: one moment dancing ecstatically then bursting into tears in the other.

`It was not only me but the whole production, you can see how the band make it with their new singer, actually, he is bloody talented. I’m really happy for them.

`So, is it your second life? Or you have further plans: telly, film, Hollywood?

`At the moment I’m really into this play, and acting in general, and not planning any further.

photo by Mlle Flou; Story by gomes

When the girl stepped in the bar she only saw the two barmen quickly mopping the floor. She walked up to the counter with peculiarly graceful steps for a rather short but extremely overweight 15 year-old girl. The sight of an airy and surprisingly elastic motion of the meatball shaped teen made the two men stop in the middle of they work petrified.

She quickly grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the bar and jotted `Lost my dog. Small. Loud. Seen it?` Then went up to the guys to ask this very simple question but they were still standing rigid so waved in front of their face if could bring them back to life. The second her lips just moved open one of the statues suddenly turns his head to the other saying `Have you seen this!?? …Oh my god, have you seen this? …Oh my god!`

This was the moment when the girl kicked the bucket with an energetic gedan mawashi geri to the other side of the room in a nice angle, while four eyes were following the cheeky movement of her fluffy mini skirt. A short while later the foamy content of the bucket arrived to its destination after a safe and sound flight, but nobody was alive in the room to thank for using the airline. The girl had left the room with two bloody heads in her hands while two torsos were sitting on the floor not quite getting what had really happened to them in those few moments when they were busy watching two heavily hail-damaged cheeks winking mischievously from under a tutu.

photo by Mlle Flou; Story by gomes

]]> http://timesharingmixandmatch.wordpress.com/2009/09/22/white-dog/feed/ 0 mlleflou lady with a dog http://timesharingmixandmatch.wordpress.com/2009/09/08/rose-and-the-great-blue/ http://timesharingmixandmatch.wordpress.com/2009/09/08/rose-and-the-great-blue/#comments Tue, 08 Sep 2009 21:51:48 +0000 mlleflou http://timesharingmixandmatch.wordpress.com/?p=16 ]]>

Floating.
Floating with the stream.
Here I am swimming with the reflections of the sun, the trees on the bank and the birds overhead. Purely enjoying life. Not worrying about a thing. Sank deep into the mesmerising sight of the blue sky, hypnotised by the vibration of light beaming through the leafs, giving a sensation of hovering metres over the surface weightlessly, dancing in the air moving together with the spring breeze. I can’t keep my eyes open nor can I close them. I’ve become blind, when the rays of light hit my iris, it sparkles shooting fireworks to the air celebrating all life forms. I’m feeling being beautiful.
I’m rolling over. Wow, it’s good I’ll try again. And again. Start rotating slowly to the right. Up. Down. And down again. Maybe this way is up.  Speeding up. Dizzying. Can’t help. Spinning furiously, laughing and falling unconscious.

Stop! What is this ache in the chest? What is this endlessly deep emptiness in the soul? What is this beckoning black void under? Where have all the light gone? What has happened to me?

Who are you?

How did you do this: give me the excitement, life, love and happiness; Then a second later take everything leaving only memories, sadness and emptiness? How?
And why?
WHY??

Aaaarrrrrgggghhh!
You Must Tell Me!!
Now!

Please.
I’m asking you.
I’m begging you.
I need to know.
Pleasepleasepleaseplea..

Sob.
I couldn’t carry this heavy burden of not knowing why I have failed.

Is it just a probe? A quiz? If I do well.. if I am strong enough and humble but have dignity.. if I surrender sacrificing relish…If I was able to forego anything in the world, then, but only then could I get to the Great Blue? But…no, you must understand..

I understand now. I will get there only when I have come to terms with the idea that it is not possible. It is clear now. Thank you.

However, I can not give up. You will understand..
The Great Blue is waiting for me patiently and I am floating towards her.
Slowly. In my way.
And I will get there.
You’ll see.

Photo by Mlle Flou; Story by gomes

`When did you last go to school?`

`I don’t really…I mean…when in primary school…so, I went to school for few days but then I got scared. Too many people, you know.`

`Well, what’s wrong with people?`

`Hmm…I dunno…just got scared of them. They are mean…basically…They are shoutin, screamin all the time, tellin you names, kickin you, throwin things to you, these kinda things, you know.`

‘I see. You don’t seem to socialise too much then. What do you usually do?`

`Just, you know, wanderin around…watchin others, you know, playin and havin fun or arguing, you know. Just watchin how they…how they fight against…against eternity…you know`

`….`

`D’you know what’s my favourite!? Balloons! I love balloons. I just love them. They suddenly slip off the childs’ hands heading quickly skywards, wavin the last to the cryin kid with their string, and go up-up high, tremblin like crazy, dancin themselves into the arms of freedom. Frenetic! I sometimes try to go with them for a while but come back to earth in the end. I know, one day I’ll grab their string, close my eyes tightly and fly with them all the way and only open my eyes when we’ve arrived.

Photo by Mlle Flou; Story by gomes