Of Oliver

I didn't pick up on normal social queues, I took longer to learn to read and write, I was in the remedial classes at school. I was the weird kid who would sit on his own and read books on his own. But when I was tested on intelligence tests and on certain topics, I would annihilate the competition. So I was lazy, incompetent, stupid, shy, a moron and many other words were used to describe me, difficult, stubborn, tiresome, picky, and troubled.

There was another kid like me who used to get picked on; people would take his books and laugh at him, and I used to never identify with how he was treated. I didn't want to be a loser like that, but I think for me it was worst; I tried desperately to fit in, so the fact I didn't meant I was punished, kids who hated me would pick on me, and I never entirely understood that just because they were paying attention to me, didn't mean they liked me. When they locked me in lockers and put me in bins, I would still try to hang out with them because I didn't know where I was meant to go to fit in. 

The child's parents were smart enough to realise that the environment he was in wasn't meant for people like us. My family believed I needed to learn to fit in and be like them, so I had to stay in that hell from nine years old to eighteen.

I wish I knew the right thing to do, the right thing to say, the way to make people care, how to have normal friendships, how to have people who want to hang out with me and spend time with me, and how to not have my life based around my work.

I remember being around fourteen years old, crying to sleep, begging for this feeling to stop. Inevitably, it did when I started self-harming, taking my mind off this feeling of breaking into pieces every night. I wasn't functioning like everyone else, and I knew it wasn't normal, I knew that others didn't find it this difficult.

I started sailing shortly after that; I was forced to have a hobby, so I didn't sit at home playing with Legos every day. I found people who I felt close to for a while. But I need help with maintaining those relationships. I look at things like Facebook and see those people I once knew, with kids, still hanging out together. I know that may not be what I want, but I don't know how to have those things, what it would take to fit in, to be invited, and to be included.

My sister was forced to invite me to her wedding, but the invitation seems to have been rescinded. I've never been invited to my brother's place, which he bought a few years ago, and I have never seen my parents' home during the day.

I spend most of my free time alone, and I wonder what it would look like to be invited to things that were not work.

I have a very good people suit, I can do most things others can. When I tell friends I'm on the spectrum, I'm often told, "Don't worry, everyone's a little bit on the spectrum". Then why am I here, alone, and you seem to fit in so nicely, and I can't seem to see it. It's like there's this other world I can't access, and I can't seem to make fit.

I just want to feel like I matter. That seems to be asking too much most of the time. I often wonder how long it would take for people to realise I had died — I think it would take around a week, and I wonder who would know how to contact my family or if they'd care? Because I don't think anyone knows them. I think it would take them around a week to find out.

I want to do things that mean something, but I can't get the basics right; I think I get empathy, but I know I'm missing something. The more I understand about autism, the more I just feel broken; there are parts of me that are missing that people take for granted in themselves. I feel like Pinocchio, like I am searching for a heart, and I wish it wasn't so hard for people to have me around. I wish it was easier for them, and I don't blame them for this; I don't make people feel comfortable, and I wish there was something more I could do.

I hate feeling this alone all the time.

I never found the words to work through what you'd been through. At nineteen, I lacked a fundamental knowledge or understanding of what I should do and how I could help. I cared about you from the moment I met you until we stopped speaking. I was never quite sure of what I meant to you. Your boyfriend and I looked so similar people would confuse us in the street. I was never quite sure of what I meant to you, but for as long as we were close, you were one of the things that kept me together.

If I had known earlier I was autistic, if I had read more, if I had understood you better, maybe I could have shown up and been the person to help. Instead, I was the boy who looked at you with sad eyes; I wasn't someone who could help; I only looked on and hoped that you could bear the brunt of the pain.

You were always so kind, even when the world around you was cruel. I wish I'd known how friendships work and had met you with the same maturity you showed me.

Shaped by many strong young women whose bold and interesting lives flourish, I am a spectator on the sides.

I am overjoyed with progress as I see my place in the world more solidly.

As they deal with tragedies like Georgia does.

As they find courage and look for beauty like Eden does.

As they fight for a way forward like Anna does.

As they look to see better boundaries as Kaia does.

I rant a lot about the duty of care and feeling comfortable and in your own power in a photo because those small things translate, there are 43 muscles in our faces, and even subtle movements in some create a feeling we might not be able to explain, but we can see.

We might not be able to explain it, but for many people's work, we will say, "There's something else there", something in there that we just can't put words to.

I realised something that explained a lot during covid whilst I was looking to find that X-factor in the work; many of my favourite photographers had long-term muses, many were married or dating the women they were famous for photographing, or had built partnerships that had paid dividends for both parties, elevating in some way.

I will only go a little into the ethical grey area of intimate relationships within the boundaries of the work. Still, it's worth flagging that this complication and complicity are problematic. In black-and-white terms, this could be exploitative behaviour, and I have heard many stories where it has been. Whether it is photographers building relationships to then sell images without consent, or using their muse to build a reputation of being able to create intimate work, and then using that existing relationship to then demand the same level of vulnerability from others when contextually, it is near impossible because they haven't had the time, attention, care, trust and support to harbour and create that safe environment.

As a photographer, we are required to pick up on those nuances and translate them into something with feeling; there are a lot of other factors, there is obviously the technical, as well as the ability to communicate clearly an intention that both the model needs to pick up on, and needs to appear in the image.

Many of us need to improve at explaining this or have implicit expectations that a model can turn up and translate our vision without ever having a larger conversation about it. Agencies also leave that in the hands of the photographers, creatives, and stylists, often without providing context to their models, which can mean turning up blind to a shoot or even having this conversation or thinking about it; "how do I make sure they get the most out of the shoots they're going to".

Many people say, "Eh, modelling is easy; you're just standing in front of a camera," but I believe it isn't easy. It's an emotional outlay that requires presence, understanding, intensity, and attention to detail that is difficult to master. TLDR: it's damned tiring!

I'll be honest, I struggle with this, and that's why I can explain it so well. I have spent the past few years trying to improve that skill set, trying to make that appear in my work more and more.

I want vulnerability, to feel drawn in, and to feel encapsulated by the people in my work. I want to see the wonder created as I felt from looking at books made by many of my idols.

The longer I've done this, the more I realise I am at the mercy of who I work with. It's how they feel about me, how they feel about themselves, the shoot, and just in general. How we show up affects everything, absolutely everything.

I really want to reiterate this.

How you show up to each job is the most important factor:

As long as we try as hard as possible, we can believe we are a success regardless of the outcome.  

It doesn't always feel elevated; sometimes I feel like as hard as I push, and the more of myself I put into the work, the more exhausted I become, that it just isn't matching my energy, and that's ok; we can't line up with everyone. At the end of the day, it's my job to elevate the people I work with to create something.

So where does that leave you, the model, the muse, the person in front of the lens? How can you possibly create better work yourself?

How can you show up in a way that allows yourself to create something timeless, beautiful, that feels something, that's more than sexy, or interesting, or candid, that draws someone in, and makes you feel something??

How you show up, embody, and appreciate the photos you're in is the most crucial factor in creating a good book.

Most of the time, you will only get to pick the photographers you work with if you build partnerships, collaborate or end up in demand.

Similarly, the more you work, the better you'll be. However, there is bad practice if you are not working with photographers whose work is represented in working model portfolios if they're not working with agencies, clients and brands. Then you will not create a cohesive body of work to get you booked.

In short, if it's not good practice, don't do it; you'll develop lousy technique and form and inevitably be unable to communicate effectively.

On the other hand, if you feel like the people you're working with aren't elevating you, pushing you, or not finding a vision for how you want to be encapsulated and operating from that place, you'll find your look may fade. A voice is significant within the work! You don't need to have words behind you. Still, communicating a feeling, a mood to elevate yourself and others around you, will, in turn, allow people to feel inspired by you.

Even if it doesn't lead to a career, it's a beautiful place to create from.

As I said earlier;