Survival of the Fittest

Where’s your position in the food web?

Are you a producer? Do you provide, do you parent and preserve?. Do you believe in the production of masterpieces?

Are you peaceful and calm, a herbivore, who gives to others. Do they feed on you or do they benefit from you? Do you feed on the earth’s wonders and serenity?

Are you a vigorous, ferocious, yet misunderstood carnivore. Do you live for the pain, the horror, the violence? Is your life opulent, vividly mysterious. Do you need the love?

We are all parts of the nature. Whatever we’re doing, we’re contributing to the cycle of mankind. It’s the wheel of life, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. That’s how it works. Whether you’re the deer or the lion, you contribute to the wild. Whether you’re a saint or a sinner, you contribute to morals. Whether you’re corrupt or honest, you contribute to the country.

Mutualism. Parasitism. Commensalism.

Predator. Prey

Life

Rich. Poor

Business. Art. Science

Philosophy

Once upon a time I was wilder than the wind. I feed on the fluorescent bubbles of the night sky. I live under the, security of having support. Of having a pact, of being strong on the natural selection. We don't need nobody, cause we got each other. It's really delusional to befriend with people you CAN'T trust.

You’re just a Do--Do baby boo. You live under the shadows of believing the flight will bring you up, but watch out for the hunters. In fact, you can't even fly. Watch out your delusions. Watch out for the bullets. Watch out for your cardboard installations. Stop Living in Mirages.

T-Rex. Oh T-Rex. Didn't they get the point of extinction? This ain't Jurassic World. It's New York City.

The water is hotter up in the cold. The waters colder on the hotter days. What kind of specimen fails to lay offspring from their DNAs? Those who survive. Those who apparently make it through the survival of the fittest. Those who work twice harder. Those who don't rely on their kind. Those who don't come in pacts of betrayal, weakness, and an awful sense of skin shedding. And fashion. Irrelevant.

Didn’t you remember how I made you legit? I’m taking down your Vogue Italia picture.

And your relevance out of my life.

Veni Vidi Vici

I came.

I saw.

I conquered

Enough about the weak. Show me your teeth. Tell me the truth. Ray of Light, Art Saved My Life.

Down in the meadows, I had the age of the tortoise. Hundreds of years. I hide inside a heavy shell, Scared, but almost immortal. But then I’m the snake. Toxic, poisonous, yet beautiful. Taboo, feared, yet celebrated. My Anaconda don’t want none unless you’re

Real 

Today we live under the fear of being overpowered by anything that comes in our way. The sky is not the limit, we reach for the stars to keep having impossible goals. Richer, prettier, more established. Wiser, yet a bigger spender. We comment “goals” on everything that seems “hip” and “cool”. “Squad Goals af!”. Who needs a pack when you’re a lone wolf, up in the Himalayans. When you’re as undiscovered as a yeti, but when you appear--------

Bye.

When you’re hunted by wolves, hunt them back.

When you're endangered, make sure you're one of a kind

When you shed your skin, outgrow your past

Call me Reinhardt.

Not TPS.

The Photographic Sense is not a name to be called by basics.

I swear this is the last post to peek down to the past. This is not the agenda to

Make friends. Or stay irrelevant.

Leviathan. Behemoth. Nessie. Mermaid. Sirens. Garuda. Gryphon. Chimera. Centaur. Cerberus. Jabberwocky. Golem. Hydra. Imp. Medusa. Minotaur. Mothman. Ogre. Unicorns. Pegasus. Phoenix. Yeti. Sasquatch. Sphinx. Werewolf. Vampires. Zombie. Trolls. Fairies. Elves. Gargoyles. Griffin. Harpy. Wendigo. Big Foot. Madremonte. Valkyrie. Hercules. Kelpie. Banshee. Kitsune. Naga. La Guita Xica. Xana. Alp. Baba Yaga. Pontianaks. Vodnik. Encantado. Jikininki. Manananggal. Lilith. Jorogumo.

THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SENSE.

Salem's Supreme

Misunderstood

The particular phrase seems to have labeled the “villains” in a story. Today, our generation retells the graceful stories of Maleficent, The Evil Queen, and apparently, witches who burned during the Salem trials. We live in a generation where a more tolerant environment is encouraged. Where love is presented in a wider scope of acceptance, tolerance, and an open mind.

Today, I live under the ghosts of guilt. I build a wall to defend myself through bricks of art, recognitions, and all the lavishness I apparently have. Yes, I have a family who supports me 1000%. Yes, my art will be exhibited in Paris and Melbourne in the near future. Yes, my career is going well. Yes, I have so many things to be proud of. I believe that this part of me, the part of me that lives and always strives to be the best is my superpower. My supernatural powers are my capabilities to withstand hatred with my remedies. To have my head in the clouds with a soothing spell of redemption, of knowing that I’ve made it to the higher ground. Throughout, I am capable of skills and tricks other people aren’t gifted with, and of course, everything comes with a price.

I’ve learnt coming of age the hard way. I knew I had to say goodbye, I knew I had to leave my past behind. I just never imagined it on resulting this way. When you are seemingly punished for all the things you’ve done, with it’s reasoning left untouched, but you’re instead thrown guilty rocks at. When you’re burnt at the stake like a Salem witch. Judged for the things they don’t understand.

We’re not forever. You’re not the one.

Today I rise, through the Vitalum Vitalis of my craft. Rising from the ashes to a timebomb of my own, waiting to explode to a spectrum of art on the higher ground. A dispersal of seeds of everything I’ve been through, of my journey translated into a portfolio reaching it’s ways to the best features ever. We could be the best thing ever. But now I guess it’s left with me and my art. It’s my moment to perform the seven wonders, to call upon this trial and lit all the candles and apparently, show shine in my own spark.

Nadia Nathania’s version of this post asks a question that leaves me thinking, “how does it feel like to be powerful yet feared, and due to that, punished? “. What does it feel like to constantly migrate with broomsticks, to conduct pyrokinesis, or to simply lure mankind into believing in things you demand them to believe in. How does it feel like to truly be powerful to the state where those who don’t understand view it as evil?. What does it feel like to think, breathe, and act like a hybrid, like a creature unlike men. What does it feel like to grow trees from your mind?.

Then I fall

I fall

I fall

I am not misunderstood, I simply was never meant to fit in inside a fragile society. In a society where I am seen as a threat, where people confess their jealousy to me, and where I grow insecurity out of the stability around me. I am a motion being, I need to breathe the same air as those who are constantly on the run. Apparently, those who don’t only dream, but those who actually live their dreams.

I confess my mistakes, dear Lord, for treachery, lies, and backstabbing.

So if it comes to a point where I burn down portions out of my life, where it comes to a point where I am seen as a villain, where I can’t migrate in long ocean rides or midnight swims. Where I don’t communicate with those I call dear. Where I can’t use my superpowers to be a part of their world.

I would never, ever, ever, let that define who I truly am.

Yes, I learned my mistakes. But who are you to demand me all the things I stick my heart to. There’s a difference between believing in yourself and being completely selfish. Believe it or not, sometimes I don’t really know the lines. But it comes to a point where today, I am no longer like you.

I’ve even actually been great.

So strange.

You can’t fight the friction

So I chose to not be a material of resistance.

When your feet don’t touch the ground. That is where I float right now. I am a living proof that I’ve lived another day. I drift in my own empty sea. I am in my own control. And it’s okay to be misunderstood but it’s a whole lot better setting where you feel safe of being who you are. You do not need beautiful memories corrupting your life. Your future lingers as a state that awaits for you. So instead of living in the past, simply, live for the future. Fight your way up to the top.

Salem’s Supreme appeals to those who surrounds themself in guilt today. Whatever you are, make sure you’re aiming your way to the very best. If you’re a witch, be a supreme. Even if that means you’ll have to get burnt at the stake. Succeed or die trying. Be a warrior. Never ever settle for the second best. Break free, don’t let anything hold you down. Only you can destroy yourself.

Hey Unions!

So glad to finally be posting again. My recent projects are making me feel fine as hell. I'm so glad on how my progress just keeps growing every year. So how've you been? I've got a lot of exciting news in the upcoming months ahead!. So hows life for all of you? Do leave a comment on your thoughts on the portfolio above.

See you!

THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SENSE
Salem's Supreme
Photographed by Reinhardt Kenneth
Model. Nicole King
Stylist/Assistant/Make Up Artist. Nadia Nathania
Blonde Wig. Shelley Sebastian

METAMORPHOSIS: Alice/Malice

An epiphany striked my mind. I'm old, I'm eighteen, I'm legal. Practically, I'm an adult. Practically, I knew I had to leave youth on a close time frame, which is why I never really grieved. I've anticipated loss to strike me in a much more cruel way, in between happiness. Through sadness, I've learned that, based on a soap comedy I watched yesterday, that pain in just weakness leaving the body. I knew at one point I had to choose, do I want to go for love, or do I want to go for art. Do I want to stay in this metropolitan, yet limited city, or spread my wings to the edges of the world. Knowing that one day, spreading my wings will leave inevitable shadows on the lives I've touched. Art is a wonderful medium of expression. It ceases to provoke, yet with beauty. Art isn't necessarily only subjective, it is a reflective medium of what a generation presents. It always, always, always, can be seen as a controversial figure.

I've learned that my life is a performance art piece. It is a media of expression to tell a story. A reflection of where I want to drive my life towards, to endless summers or to the pot of gold behind rainbows?. Whether I want to live everyday like my last, or keep wishing for another day. To waste my youth on pure happiness, or waste it to work hard for the things I want.

Because one day, I want to call my parents and tell them I've made it.

I want to see the sunset, by the bonfire at the beach, raising my glass for all the choices I've made.

Perhaps my words symbolizes me being two faced.

Or perhaps it symbolizes that I just have more aspects to myself which is visible to only myself.
The persona representing the girl is divided into three different persona.

I produced "METAMORPHOSIS: Alice/Malice" as a result of the perfect hourglass theorem. A symmetrical timing perfectly capturing the sunset hued liquid leaving the oral cavity. Why is the liquid orange? Was she poisoned? Was she happy? Did she get a hungover?

The true answer lies in the back of the viewer's heads. As much as an artwork is an artists statement, the true controversy sparks from the provocation of the viewers. Personally, for me, orange represents the mild warmth of what she was releasing. It was anger, it was emotion, but it had it's reasons. It's not blood red, it's sunset orange. It's about freedom of speech, it's about letting it all out, but please do that before the sun sets. Before the day turns dark after orange. Before the emotions pile up and results as unlikely bile, poisoning the body. It is an expression of how we, as human beings, should let it all out to make ourselves feel better, but to forget about it after sunset. It isn't good to carry poison in your body, so make sure you don't regret it.

Powdered with flour. The girl in the left expresses the coldness of her heart. The worries, the regrets, the true emotional breakdown. The shadows killing the light our of her life. Was she blinded by worldly possessions? Or was she blinded from reality?. The true epitome lies in fantasy, she copes with all the pain by escaping reality, by letting dust alter her reality with dreams of a perfect land. The weakness of not facing reality, yet the strength of letting dream come in her way. Deceiving the cruelty by an immoral lullaby, which is pride. Pride will carry her nowhere but back home. Because she's got nothing if she doesn't let it all out. Sadness is poison, the bile contains toxic.

Then there's the beauty in crying (the girl on the right). Letting it out, but it all seems to not be enough. Another part of letting it our. Another persona, perhaps. Tears are both a reflection of weakness and strength. The strength to release all the weakness. Do you still want to negotiate with insecuirites? Don't you want to wash it all out of your life?. Wash it all away, wash away all the concealed feelings. You can change like a season, but when you need to lose all of your leaves and go through a tough snowstrom, remember that there is still life inside your roots. Was it an emotional approach? It's a realistic one.

Art is what you get out of a collision of ultimate narcissism and demeaning insecurity. Art is that explosive result of what you get in between. That is why she lets it all out. Through an ethereal approach of beauty and art, the vomit is being represented of letting all of the negativity run out of her. That is how I face my problems, I let it all out in the canvas of photography. It's truly a mutualism of the body and the artwork. Make sure it's strong enough to be both an approach of deforestation of the forest of sadness. Make sure you are your own Nightingale. Make sure you got yourself. You decide your path, you are your own creature, you know yourself best. Make sure natural selection doesn't force you to change that niche. However, always be open to lessons.

This past month has been a roller coaster experience for me. The devastation I have to face on the last week has been massive. One thing or another, I know my flaws, and what I have to do to them is embrace them towards an artwork. If it is radioactive, it is truly a wavelength of an artwork. If it is dissapointment, embrace that, if it is expectations you believe in, reach them. In life, you are your only hero. Everyone else is busy saving themselves. So make sure you embrace that, make sure you are your own super hero with your own super powers. I think I just claimed mine.

"METAMORPHOSIS: Alice/Malice" a piece commenting on personal grief and alter egos will be on the digital showing of "Exposure 2015" in The Louvre, Paris, France. I am very grateful I've took the step of using all of my thoughts as an artwork. It is still ethereal at times witnessing where this piece has gotten into. The symmetrical lines, the butterfly symbolism, the heads, the hair. It all makes sense in the least possible way. A big thank you to Giovana Christie as the muse as well as Shelley Sebastian as the make up and hair mastermind. Bravo.

THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SENSE

METAMORPHOSIS: ALICE/MALICE

PAR. Reinhardt Kenneth

Model. Giovana Christie

Hair & Make Up. Shelley Sebastian

Barmecidal Remedy

Our visions are images captured onto the back of our minds. They are a formation and a collision of atoms forming this sort of, body of memories.

Lately I've been experiencing constant nightmares. These nightmares, however, don't necessarily haunt me. In the weirdest way, I'm usually grateful for them. When you have a beautiful, exciting dream, you eventually get dissapointed that the dream is only a barmecide. You wish everything that happened in that dream --- the new Disneyland in Australia where it rains toys or money, or getting a kiss from your crush, or anything as bizarre --- happened. You wish that all the butterflies you caught translated to the good news you'd get on the next day. Let's face it, sweet dreams set up a rather impossible goal for a realistic matter. However, your nightmares, eventually they put out the best in you for the next day. Apart from being very cautious and protective to your loved ones(which may be involved in your gruesome nightmare), you get to live life to the fullest, to be grateful that none of those bad things actually happened. Nightmares put you to the worst perspectives as a stepping stone to learn. You can call these visions intuition or just a metaphorical imagery of our days, but eventually, these weird sh*t put the best visions for The Photographic Sense.

I utilize art and photography as a medium to truly express myself in a judgemental-free world. In the name of aesthetic and subjectivity, I'd have to say that my works are both influenced by inspirations from real-life experiences and my very own dreams.

Barmecide |ˈbärməˌsīd|(also Barmecidal |ˌbärməˈsīdl|) rareadjective [ attrib. ]illusory or imaginary and therefore disappointing.

Through the denotation of barmecide we view above, the word leads to disappointing illusory or imaginary. In particular, benefits that are disappointing. This juxtaposition leads to my vision of reality itself. You get offered by thousands of opportunities, but eventually, you'd have to sell your creativity(or some prefer, soul) to the mass to be mainstream. To eventually give up the rest of your experimental vibe for the public who knows nothing about a good picture. These series leads to an experimental outtake on how I really see things. The distortion of beauty, social commentary, and last but not least, youth.

All of these artworks are not photographed, they are scanned. I teamed up with my long time muse, Irene Wihandi, in producing images which are truly unusual. The usage of scanner, traditionally utilized for documents and papers, is instead, used to take selfies, or whatever you call it. Distorted beauty, whereas I believe beauty comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes, even with faces pushed against a solid medium, is a beauty of its own. The image represents a person's daring style of promoting aesthetic beauty through their own wilderness. This is my barmecidal remedy, in other words, a remedy towards all the disappointing benefits you can get from being a commercial artist. Yes, I am commercial, but I am far from trying to please everyone and producing images I don't necessarily believe in. So yes, even if I didn't get a camera, I can produce unusual images with an unorthodox method. 

That's what makes the photographic sense, it's not the camera, it's the mind utilizing it. On the upmost, I usually am disappointed by seeing so-called-photographers running around, taking ratchet(not the good kind of ratchet) pictures like they're Mario Testino. With all the fake-lensed models that does the whole model 101, our future in photography requires the mind, not the camera. Go buy a CANON EOS 1D but if you don't have that sense, you're going to make an HD version of your iPhone photographs, not the good VSCOcam types, but the extremely noisy(not intentionally), blurry(not the good kind of motion), and the whole package of an unusual attire. So please, don't blabber around your extremely advanced DSLR when your photographic mind isn't advanced, at all. 

Growing up.

That would be my ultimate “barmecide”. Sadly, it’s more of a realistic approach than being simply, an illusion or an imagination. As we grow up, we get disappointed, a lot, to be honest. You see, people come and go, and then things just start to fall apart. Luckily, apparently the remaining pieces fall back together to form a magnificent mosaic from imperfections, representing our lives. However, there will be a lot of things that linger too close and too deep that will end up being bullshit.

You see, as you grow older, you seek more into the world. Our capabilities is then exceeded onto, you know, the utilization of the human body to the fullest. Our minds to be a medium to perform in the very best way. But eventually, these global situations are just as unstabile as your high school life.

I need something that’s for forever. I try to put a perspective that it would be God and my beliefs that I would cling to.

This world is full of people who just aren’t real enough you know. Hypocrites who vomit their mind, then eat it all up again. People who don’t act the way they speak their mind. People who are just way too superficial to be trusted. That is why living with THAT much lingering to the people you love, or loved, is pretty much a hard thing to do. Because you’ll never ever know how things turn out. Trust is such a big value, at least that’s what validity taught me.

I confess I woke up like this.

Being a complete douchebag is one thing, but being completely unapologetic is another matter. Sometimes you’ve just got to pick yourself up, you know. In fact, quoting Queen B and Gags

'Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it if it's broken, but you can still see the crack in that mother fucker's reflection.'

Definitely foreshadowing my high school days.

I’m literally just so tired that everything just becomes numb. As dumb as that may sound, that might just be a sign of being strong. Being able to withstand the oddities in life that may arise and fall in it’s own Alaia value, luxurious but with a price to pay.

In fact. Barmecidal Remedy is also about being angry. About losing it. About scanning your whole emotions in metaphorical pieces in it’s eerie and ethereal values, yet also a collision of being tired. It’s like an Azealia Banks record, artsy and angry, yet not emotional. You get it?.

I'm angry. Yet I forgive. I forget. You see. Life is supposed to be like that. To embrace your emotions to the very fullest. To make sacrifices to make things right. But to always put yourself first. You are beautiful, remember that. My ultimate remedy however, is.

To be happy. 

x

Scanography portraits featuring the one and only, Miss Irene Wihandi.

Dolled Up Soul

I’d like to think of myself as a chameleon.

It’s not about necessarily blending in, it’s about finding yourself in the midst of the environment you’re in yet still possessing that authenticity you truly are.

I believe in hybrids. I believe that we as human beings may evolve onto a larger extend of beings. An organism with DNAs much more complex, with the presence of ecological niches that are suitable to adaptations and survivals in the world’s wondrous future that may be considered as a dystopia in our era.

Growing up watching Digimon, I found a huge fascination in monsters in animes. How they are portrayed in such gruesome way yet with a doze only Japan could comprehend. Such terrifying cuteness you just can’t get enough of. Animes, mangas, chibis, you name it. We’ve been missing out one important part the culture represents. A body modification, in another form, an imagery of a different portraiture of how we humans appear to be.

Sulfur Blonde

Sulfur Blonde

Sometimes I sit and wonder and ask myself questions in the likes of ; “what does it feel to be burned alive?” or the latter of the grotesque that might seem like a taboo if it was represented in a realistic conversation with random people. I also hate it when I’ve known a really good song for like ages and then suddenly it becomes a radio hit and the whole world is like “oh my god I love this new song”. I feel empathy for Echosmith or Charli XCX or Lana Del Rey-but damn it was cool to listen to them back in the days.

As I think I’m pretty stupid when it comes to the scientific matters, I just felt like Sulfur is the perfect name of the portfolio. Borrowing tones and contrasts unusual to happen in the human body/ Imaginations on how a nuclear invasion might affect the aesthetic matters. Sometimes I just put things onto my artistic perspective and leaving it like that. You know, like, just let your artistic views take perspective by transforming or distorting reality onto a level of absurdity one may just shake off as being weird.