// Behind the scenes. A photo and the story behind it!

Yesterday I photographed Mikayla, a 21-year-old American citizen who wants to become a professional dancer and model. She has lived away from home in student accommodation since she was fifteen and will finish her studies next year. Before any photo shoot, I always talk with the person in front of my camera — and for me, anyone who steps in front of my camera is a model. We discussed what style and type of images she wanted, what she expected from the shoot, what her goals

Since returning from New York, I have hardly given myself a minute to write my blog, even though I wanted to. Today I originally planned to write about photographing two young fashion models. But while gathering my thoughts, I suddenly realised that exactly four years ago today — on the afternoon of 31 December 2013, during a New Year’s Eve gathering — my photography career truly began. To explain how I arrived at where I am today, I need to go into the details. So this wi

The music is pounding. Another festival. Front row. Hi, I know the DJ. Hi, I know that guy. Cute guy. Hi, I know that guy too! Another vodka orange, please. Can I buy you one? Hell yes, it’s a party! Want to dance? I’m in! Want something? Vodka orange. Can I get your number? Sure! 7562. Facebook friend! “Sweetheart, are you coming home this weekend?” “Yes, Mum, but only Sunday early afternoon. There’s a party Saturday.” “Again? You didn’t come last weekend either because the

When it comes to experiencing femininity, I would describe myself as a late bloomer. In some areas of life, I thought quite maturely, but truly experiencing that I was a Woman came much later. For a long time I searched for myself and for my style. Once my mother no longer decided what I wore, I moved through different fashion phases like many young people do: first skater, then rocker. For years I dressed in a fairly boyish way and wore oversized T-shirts.

My calves and me. Is there a key to self-acceptance and unconditional self-love? A magic phrase that, once spoken, puts everything back in place? I think everyone carries their own magic words somewhere deep inside their heart. Sometimes, over the years, we build walls around them to protect ourselves. Even then, we should not lose hope. We simply have to search inside for that private little spell we thought we had lost.

It was February 2014. Winter in Budapest, and I could not see a way out. I had just earned my degree, yet nobody would give me a job. My family was proud of everything I had achieved, but I did not feel successful. Until then I had known only platonic love. I weighed 121 kilos and was convinced nobody would ever want me and that I would never get married. By May I had fallen into a deep depression. My hair was dark, just like my mood, and I only got out of bed when I absolu

Perhaps I should start by saying that I am an ordinary 44-year-old gay man, 160 cm tall, who loves his work and tries to remain a good person in this fast-moving world. Many years ago I was a grey, almost invisible speck in the machinery of everyday life. Overweight at 83 kg, short, balding, lacking confidence and carrying a strong sense of inferiority. Life kept throwing these things back at me, especially in dating, usually with one extra label: "you're ugly".

Sunday, early morning. A beautiful summer day. I am thirty-one. I cry. Rage. Shout. My husband packs his things and moves out. There is someone else. Prettier, younger, more naive. I don't understand. My world collapses. The self-torture begins. I'm ugly. Just look at my body. I'm incapable of anything — I can't even keep a man beside me. Total self-devaluation. Now that's a real Black Friday.

When two artists meet, there is a good chance something unusual will be created. Kamilla painted the story of her life in words, blending reality with fiction; I translated it into images. I am twenty years old, crying in the bathroom: "My father is going to kill me." "I don't want a child." Yet I don't want to hurt the baby. I love it immediately and stroke my stomach. Contradiction. I get married.

I am grateful to a chronic illness for giving me — day after day — far more than it has taken away. For teaching me openness toward difference and discipline. For the freedom it has given me, and for the colourfulness beyond the conventional and familiar — something society's expectations cannot define or limit. I am grateful for its challenges. For the silence it taught me to live with, a silence in which I feel so at home. For the silence and time in which all this matured

14 November 2021 Dear Norbi, As easy as it was to leave that comment yesterday, starting this letter has been much harder. Lately I have been having long monologues with myself; there is so much inside me that wants to come out. After fifty, a woman sees herself and the world very differently. Please forgive me if I cannot write as beautifully as the people whose stories I have read on your blog. My thoughts wander, so this text probably will too.