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02/09/2021

Look What We Did.

The Photographer felt he remembered something. He wasn’t quite sure what it was but it was coming to him.

It had stopped for a coffee break at the neuronal junction between his nerve cells and was taking its sweet damn ass time.

In the meantime The Photographer filled the waiting time with a few structured words mired in blissful formality

Work Done For: new campaign “Like Mommy Like Me”

Photography:

Assis Photographer : aquartey_

Agency:

Production House:

Finally it came to him, it was to remember what he could do, especially when he wasn’t sure.

Ps: Who else wants a sandwich now?

25/08/2021

Who Do You Blame?

The Photographer wondered when it all changed.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it and even if he could, he wondered if he wanted to.

He was perfectly fine with not knowing the source yet knowing work had been done.

Where were the excuses? Possibly wondering why their access was continually being revoked.

Where was the fear? Supposedly wondering where it all went south.

Where was breakfast? About a 1 cedi trotro ride to the Waakye seller by the police station.

Work done for .

Photography:
Assistant Photographer:
Agency:
Makeup:

🇬🇭

03/08/2021

Do It Anyway.

To The Photographer, his love for Rice Krispies was akin to the blot of ink on your dress discovered only when you put your hand in your pocket and felt the surprisingly lugubrious stickiness of a substance
though inanimate, able to send signals to your mind that it would be tough to get out.

Basically The Photographer liked Rice Krispies a lot and when the craving was strong, so was a big bowl of milk and a middle finger to lactose intolerance, some really cold water for snap, crackle and pop and a spoon.

If you thought there were a lot of ‘ands’ in the previous sentence, you would be right and it was really ok to be honest.

Anyway The Photographer couldn’t go the route of showing work he’d done for without soaking a few words into The Readers minds and so now that had been done all that was left to follow were the end credits and name The Squad.

Work done for SoKlin Ghana Unveiling New Brand Ambassador: .

Photographer:
Assistant Photographer:
Agency:
On Set Assistants:

🇬🇭

05/04/2021

5 + 4 And A Shy Digit.

It was personal, The Photographer had commented on The Young Padawan most recent caption.

He had felt an abundance of joy welling up as he read it. Finally he was living up to his copywriting chops of yonder.

The Photographer even commented, approving of his young Padawan and all that good stuff and yet in his response, Young Padawan did not give the respect due.

Now Young Padawan had to watch his back because he might just get a conk from behind in the near future. 😝

Ps: please don’t go read his caption, I beg you. It’s pretty much one line and the more I look at it, the more cheesy it becomes.

30/03/2021

681.

The Artist told The Photographer to tell The People he had no caption in mind because The Shot told many stories she wanted The People to comment on.

However he did but he felt he had to keep it. A promise was a promise.

But then The Muse came over...the bitch. She stirred his memory, back to primary 4 and a tall woman with silver hair who taught The Photographer cursive and backlashes yet nothing about poems.

Yesterday The Photographer remembered how to write H in cursive through the hands of a man and scribbles of a boy...joy.

And a poem

Class 4 and Sunny Delight
But not in my writing -cursive
A Hazel glares behind my shoulders
A stare of boulders
I shoulder with a shudder
As I trace my letter H
For Hope or Help

18/03/2021

The Talking Cure.

The Photographer found himself reading Karen Horney.

He found himself forming a somewhat poetic sentence; To Yellow butterflies that fly into the sun.

He felt hungry

He thought of a friend reading his prior sentence and nodding her head at her assessment of his affinity for talking about food in his captioning

He thought of finally agreeing that he did in fact love food

He thought of Reggae Music and his ear piercing

He thought of a message unanswered and what the hell “a gorilla going ape” meant and why he liked it so much

He thought of the The Shot and a nod to analogous colors

He thought of blessings and being present

And he thought of stopping his writing at this exact moment.

03/03/2021

Somewhere.

The Photographer was proud of himself. It had been a minute since he had actively and consciously memorised a song and by a minute he meant close to half a decade...yiesh!

But he had now, it was fun- to know he could recall it word for word at any moment and sing it with his chest

It was even sweeter, looking back at the hours and months it took to memorise it and now realise how he treated it as if it had never required effort.

It had started off as a way to personally test a theory on neuroplasticity and self imposed limitations

Now singing in his masterfully croaky voice it felt as if in that instance, he had a power that was understood only by him and that was good.

The Shot was taken at Lake Bosomtwe. The Photographer found himself in Kumasi with a friend and a cat called Zen...good times.

😘🤗

Ps: Shoutout to - Interference

22/02/2021

Trust Wogyiii.

The Photographer was hanging his clothes.

He had never looked at the wall next to the drying line, however that was about to change.

He noticed a mood, it seemed to speak to him almost, but in a shady yet surprisingly lulling manner.

It sounded like Ja Rule asking if you wanted sprinkles on your waffles or Kanayo O. Kanayo telling you to seek the Kingdom of God.

However it was certain, the shot had to be taken.

The Photographer asked Wogyiii, he was down and that as they say was it.

Ps: Someone please watch White Tiger...anyone. 🐯

24/12/2020

A Stranger In Ahanta

The Stranger was unapologetic...The Photographer bleeping loved it.

He seemed to have accepted himself and was living in his moment. It was nice, it was refreshing, heck it was inspiring.

It reminded The Photographer of a lot of poetic ideas too distant to properly string into words.

However The Poet in The Photographer was all for making a quatrain and so he did...the bastard.

Let me tell you a truth of this place

There is a freedom

There is a prison

And there is a choice

📸:

15/12/2020

Smallie And Friends.

The Photographer remembered an anniversary and a friend today, it would always be that way from now on and he liked it that way.

So far had become a part of The Photographers Week and possibly Weekend. So had all the way up on his moon shining down rays of words, that could charge pretty much anybody who was willing to let them.

And then there was Smallie, whom The Photographer had met 3 weeks ago walking to his family house in Accra.

Smallie The Athlete was one mean sportsman...in a good way. His hands looked like they could smack the Hulk on his bum and it would hurt.

His hands looked like they could bitchslap a pimp named slickback all the way back to character development

His hands looked like they could have caught that pesky fly on Mike Pence's seriously slick grey hair

His hands looked like anything you could fill in the blanks with if you'd made it this far reading this.

However The Photographer's shots were not about Smallie's mystical hands...they were not even about Smallie at all...plot twist

They were about being accepted by a group of people not used to being accepted by the general populace and about finding compassion and understanding to look at people for who they are based on their reality and not what is thought of them.

21/10/2020

19 days after independence and you kill your own people for wanting a better life and speaking out for what is rightfully theirs.

It's always been a game, one the people were constantly losing until they decided they needed a win and went for it.

There was no need for lives to be lost.

Why do you open fire on people just like you and find it easy to sleep with what you've done?

Our leaders have let us die, it's nothing new. Our leaders think we deserve this for speaking out for what is right.

The only leading done is to the slaughterhouse.

If you have one drop of Nigerian blood in you, you will understand that there is a type of fire that can never be quenched.

These yeye leaders will get what's coming to them. 🙏🏾

.

29/09/2020

Conga.

The Photographer was watching an episode of Shark Tank.

The Lady was pitching a pacifier called Pop which solved the problem of getting germs on the portion sucked when a baby dropped it.

She took a deal with Mr Wonderful, he wondered if it had been the right choice, he would Google The Lady's business later.

The Shot was taken as The Photographer watched The Guys play. It looked like at some point going after the ball, The Guys got into the conga formation. It reminded The Photographer of The Mask and the scene where he made all the police do the conga while singing:

"They call me cuban pete, I'm the king of the rhumba beat
When I play my maracas I go
Chick chicky boom, chick chicky boom" 😂😂

And with that I'm out. Lol.

Address

West Legon

Website

http://mistermaja.com/

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