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LAURA AZIZ

the time is now

The world is still strange and everyone seems to be in a space that feels unique to them. We’re a melting pot of circumstances, a sliding scale of ‘normal’. My house is no different - my husband and daughter are living relatively similar lives to BC (before covid), whilst my son and I navigate days/weeks/months that are pretty unrecognizable to before. Some moments it all feels completely fine, glorious even - other days we spin around each other trying to hold to the nearest object or person for dear life.

I’ve missed my work. In the beginning, its absence gave me something - space to focus on a different kind of creativity, time to look inwards, slow down and connect with the people I was hunkered up with.

Gauging the time to return to it has been hard, if I’m honest. When life feels like a rollercoaster and you’ve got no idea when the next peak is coming, changing anything can feel like a gamble. But at a very deep level, now more than ever I know what I do is extremely valuable. This art that is made from seeing what we hold dear, what we really have, what we love deeply, what really matters - it will outlast us all.

I spent these past few months focused on telling my own stories. Making my own art out of what matters and what I hold close, what I love. Creating somewhat prolifically, pouring and experimenting and channeling what it feels like, here in my new normal.

It’s time to step out again. To create for and with others, to learn new stories, make art out of someone else’s feelings and people and the things they have been holding on to. There’s a little fire in my belly when I write these words - the fire is a longing to create something new.

The world feels different. This is the blessing and the curse, right? I truly believe that we can celebrate by pulling each other closer, deeply inhaling all that we have and making art from our good intentions. To create some images that reflect some of the best of humanity because OMFG don’t we need that? Time for joy and connection and shouting from the rooftops IT’S ALL HERE, NOW. Now is the time to commemorate these things for the long days to come. HMU in the usual ways if you want to capture something with me.


kiss your friends faces more


It’s become a yearly pilgrimage we take. In May, we visit these roses and dance, literally, in the abundance of petals and scent and beauty, in the middle of a city park like lunatics.
Or maybe just like women who have found themselves in one another.

We create and encourage and cackle and stare at the moon and push our faces in the dirt and really the best way I can find to describe it is… we’re free.

Being able to hold on to this kind of space during a global pandemic (this was the start of May, and the revolution hadn’t begun yet) has honestly kept me sane. An anchoring to self, to creativity, to friendship, to joy. That shit can sometimes feel tricky when there are other people and obligations and just general life to attend to, but it’s such a privilege that how could we not? and it’s also so deeply what I believe life should be about; I can’t imagine not making this space and inhaling every second into every cell of my body until it’s vibrating with life.

As @heatherhav says and the words I recount as a devotion - this is the luscious life 🙏🏽 These images are a prayer of gratitude and recognition. I see you. We see each other.


My feelings about these spaces we make for each other and the roles my friendships play in my life are summed up perfectly in these words from Lori Mathis:

Kiss your friends’ face more

Destroy the belief that

Intimacy must be reserved for

Monogamous relationships

Be more loving

Embrace platonic intimacy

Embrace vulnerability

Use emotionality as a

Radical tactic against a

Society which teaches you

That emotions

Are a sign of weakness

Tell more people

You care about them

Hold their hands

Tell others you

Are proud of them

Offer support readily

Take care of the

People around you




all there, in black and white

In the midst of lockdown, after ploughing through the endless groundhog days which were weirdly (for the UK) punctuated by endless sunshine, I needed to see things differently.

I ordered a few rolls of black and white film and spent some time with an altered view. Shooting in black and white does that for me, I have to see and feel everything that comes in to focus through the viewfinder differently. I seek out different things too - there’s an emphasis on tone and texture, graphic lines and harsh light. A simplicity emerges.

So here is May on film, a combination of KODAK TMAX400 35mm and ILFORD XP2 120 🖤