mason tyler

mason tyler. born and raised in brooklyn. the boy with a camera. the boy with an eye for detail. breaks from school to go on shoots. an angry man. broken, unexplainably so. expression comes through photograph. a sharp jaw. sharper words. sarcasm instead of blood in his veins. a penchant for chinese takeout. peppermint lip balm. a camera's shutter. a half-packed apartment. a pulitzer prize, dusty and forgotten.

how do you explain yourself ? you went from nothing to everything in the blink of an eye. you started as nothing. a boy in brooklyn. a kid forgettable to everyone who passed you on the street. you were second best at every sport, forgettable in school clubs. you were nothing. it’s simple.

but then, something changed.

your father went on a trip to south america, you came along. you were meant to be on a mission trip, building houses and working at churches. someone tossed you a camera and that was it. that was your defining moment in life. you took pictures of everything. of kids playing soccer with balls that were falling apart. of adults, huddled together, with coffee and conversation.

no one noticed you.

not until you got home.

your father remarked that your pictures were incredible. you had a gift. suddenly, your father said everyone needed to see them. you were talented. suddenly, you were something. within a few months, your photos were hanging in galleries, they were reprinted in magazines. you were given awards men three times your age dreamed of.

they called you a prodigy.

but you were twelve.

you lived in a small apartment in brooklyn.

at least, you did when you weren’t on shoots. you shot for time and national geographic. your parents never asked if you wanted to, but time after time, you were whisked away to exotic places. you liked it, sure, but sometimes you’d have rather been playing spyro on your playstation. you couldn’t tell anyone that though. instead, you listened to praises thrown at you. you kept taking photos.

that was the one consistent thing in your life.

you see, your parents divorced. your mom moved to california. you stayed in brooklyn with your father. weekends were for quick trips — to anywhere, to everywhere — weekends were to practice your craft. suddenly, it was all you could do.

you couldn’t say you didn’t love photography. it was the one thing you were ever good at.

it was what you became.

mason the photographer. mason with the camera. there was never just mason.

maybe that’s why you began pulling away from people in high school. maybe it’s why you began to find yourself alone more often than not. by twenty-six, more than half of your life had been spent behind a camera. you were a success, you would never want for work so long as you had a camera in hand.

but the idea of being something else haunted you. you became what was expected of you and you never had a choice. you love it. but still you wonder what if things had been different.

you think about disappearing sometimes. you could do it. your mark on the world has already been made, what is there left to do ?

headcanons

he used to do primarily nature photography, but sometime in high school, he started going to hollywood to do photoshoots there. there were movie promos and magazine spreads, and suddenly it was all he did. models, actors -- if there was a big name, they wanted to be shot by mason tyler.

he has a flat in brooklyn, not too far from his father’s place. it’s tiny and compact, and god is it cluttered. but it’s his. and it’s quiet. it’s perfect. there are floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. his futon has a quilt his grandmother made. the coffee table has leftover cups that are days ( weeks ? ) old, half full with coffee remnants ( two sugars, no cream )

he won the pulitzer prize for photography at twenty-one. he doesn’t talk about it.

so some of these songs i do relate to mason ( sabotage, tell the truth, the devil you know, as well as ten & true ) some of the lyrics from those i picked out that i think especially relate are:

i don’t have time to sabotage anything else i’ve gotta do the right thing now i’ve gotta find the right way out

tell the truth keep your word promise something then deliver it you’re not bulletproof that’s absurd no one is and you’re no different

‘cause it’s better to know the devil you know than the devil you don’t ‘cause where you go with the devil you know you’re never alone

and i had let go of my dreams of making my way and i lost all hope because of fear and people saying there’s no way

um i honestly think that mason would listen to like weird indie pop rock and shit like that so especially like hozier, vampire weekend, the 1975, kodaline, and the crookes ( also @ paige / @demcdici listen to brothers by kodaline & cry with me please & thank )

so like a lot of the rest of the songs are things mason has on his phone