Max must have some great stories. He is covered head to toe in scars but always laughing and bright eyed. I'm sure that those open wounds and scars must hurt, but they can't hurt as much as smiling broadly 15 hours a day.

Max works in the chill out bungalows. Whilst I was there, I saw him building every day: moving concrete, sculpting, painting, woodworking. Normally bare chested with sweat dripping off him and chasing flys from the open wounds on his side. Come the afternoon he'd step behind the bar from which he'd orchestrate the evening til the wee hours of the morning.

Every evening the majority of Tonsai would migrate to chill out for a fire show. Here Tot, Non and Max would throw, spin, will and breathe fire for half an hour with the kind of explosive energy i'd never seen before. It was here that Max would earn his wounds. I was there long enough to see that the boys were constantly learning and trying new tricks. I lent my glow poi to Max and due to their light weight, he had to slow right down. It was only then I saw how complex and technical his poi work was.

This was an early photo, prior to the Hands and Faces idea, so unfortunately, no image of Max holding the photo, to see those damaged arms.

A big choc dee (cheers and good luck
) to the hardest working man in Tonsai.

Alons most cared for possession, his rope, was treated better than most 1st born children. This shot of it in the beach sand was a disaster. None the less. look after your rope! it's your life after all.

The night following this photo, I had a wonderful conversation with an old american guy called Amaji. I don't think I'll ever forget his name, because that is precisely what we spoke about: The value of remembering peoples names and tricks to do it.

I've always been terrible with it, and I don't think its fair on the people I meet. I lived by the principal that "I'm just bad with names". That was my first mistake and it really wasn't good enough.

Following my conversation with Amaji, There wasn't a person I met in Thailand that I forgot the name of. I made the point of asking people I met. Often in circumstances that it wasn't called for. Its a skill I'm still working on.

However, this photo of a shop keeper in a boutique store in Chiang Mai was taken about 6 hours prior to that conversation, and i'm embarrassed to say I have no idea what this girls name was.

I can tell you that she was sweet, timid, was from Bangkok and had so many amazing tattoos. Some so unusual that many tattoo artists would refuse to ink her body with. She worked bars the night and had served us the very night before. I've all but given up on alcohol and she had squeezed some fresh juice from Roselle into tea cups. coupled with tunes from Cafe Del Mar, it was an awesome atmosphere.

Thats about all I know, and it really isn't enough.

Brandon on monkey watch

Chiang mai has some awesome street art. In the old city in particular there is some stencil pop art style stuff by a guy called Iagazzo that i was really drawn to. As with anywhere, with the god art, comes the bad. Tags scratched across random walls and the giant pieces

One day I came across Vincent, facing the wall with a Rattle can, stencil and yellow paint and brush. Vincent is a French, Italian, Brazilian expat and local guesthouse owner (mango guesthouse). He was putting his logo back up on the wall, as there seems to be an ongoing battle as artists paint over each others work in prime locations.

After shooting his portrait, Vincent invited me to his hostel the following day, to see the stencil work on the walls, all done by Iagazzo. Its a real shame I never made it, due to a hangover. I intend to return to Chiang Mai another day and see that work.

Tonsai beach as seen from Fire wall

Tonsai beach at sunset

Railay as seen from high up a rock wall. shot on a point and shoot belonging to my friend Alon. This was taken from the top of the tower you can see in the first picture.

Rice Paddys on the road from Ban Rak Thai on the Myanmar border

High Pass during the week long motorbike trip of the Mae Hong Son loop with my father, David (pictured)

The Pranang lagoon. Its a really awkward place to shoot (and get to!)

Ok, that's not Tanya's hands, her nails aren't that clean. Whilst I admire above all else children's curiosity, It can be hard to keep them interested long enough to shoot a photo. So this photo is a little different, having my hands in them.

Tanya is the daughter of Effie, the owner of Lita guesthouse in Chiang Mai, a wonderful place that feels just like hanging out at your friends house. Very easy going, super friendly, no one to impress and small amount of alcohol always being consumed.

What forged this relationship was not the instant photo, but rather the Poi ( the white balls on strings). I had been spinning a bit of fire poi in Tonsai and was working on some new tricks on these plastic glow ones. Tanya thought it was hilarious and decided that she should learn. At two and half years old she picked it up surprisingly quickly. She'll be teaching the local fire spinners of Tonsai how its done in no time.


Normally i'm fairly averse to children, but this one was charming enough that I enjoyed her company, and I'd say she enjoyed mine as she followed me around often. I guess it's only natural that my opinion shifts on children as I race towards thirty years old.

So after spending time teaching Tanya poi via a long game of silent charades it turns out she speaks good english as well as Thai.  Growing up in a guesthouse she'll speak a few languages before she's a teenager, no doubt

Photo by Silke Muys

The hippie-esque climbing village of Tonsai is a beautiful place riddled with shortcomings that define it, and many instances give it its character.
For example: there is no easy access, everything must come in by boat due to the band of cliffs that isolate it from the local towns, resulting in a reduction in the kind of tourists that breeze through a place for a day with little real interest and care for it. Power is intermittent at best, running only through the night via generators meaning...no wifi. People put down those awful smart devices are are open to conversation with strangers!

The latest such instance is the future construction of a luxury resort between the beach front and the main street of Tonsai. To keep the locals back, and huge ugly grey concrete wall was built this year running one side of the main street.

The one upside to this, is the beach is no longer a place of activities. It's a quiet and beautiful natural place where you can enjoy the sea and t's starkly contrasted to the bustling shores of next-door Railay, where music pumps, vendors walk and tourists happily sunburn their puffy bodies.

Even though Tonsai is a touristic place it maintains a strong sense of community. People tend to stay a few weeks and care for the place. The ugly wall of Tonsai has had a surprising reaction. Its existence is taken as a given, there is no talk of breaking down the wall. Instead the wall has brought people closer together into the community. It's only been up a few months but already colourful and upbeat art work is sprawled over great sections of it.

...

Von had started painting the day she turned up to Tonsai. Slight build, wrapped in loose fabric she was laying down an outline of a beautiful portrait onto the grey canvas. I told her it was beautiful and she turned. I was equally surprised by her intense eyes and Australian accent. She had borrowed paint from the local businesses to put up her work.

I spoke with Von at length about her painting. I took the instant photo fairly early in the conversation and she showed me her sketchbook filled with colourful intense portraits. As someone with experience with both concrete and paint I passed on a few ideas of how they might interact. She's an impressive artist with a strong stylised look to her work, yet I was taken by the value she gave to other peoples opinions. I've realised that its a virtue I really admire in people: when they are masters of their art but not beyond seeking council of others

Three days she toiled on the work. I'd walk past many times a day, to go to and from climbing, lunch, out drinking and Von was there making something beautiful for the sake of it being something beautiful. I spent some time with this beautiful soul both in Tonsai and later in Pai in the north of Thailand. Ever graceful, beautiful and kind.

Hands and Faces - 1 - Oz - Tonsai, Thailand

I brought two pairs of climbing shoes with me to Thailand. A brand new pair of 'top of the line' Italian foot torture devices and my old trusty and totally beat up old pair. The older pair, were on their way out: totally ruined. I had brought them with me to try "deep water solo" i.e: climbing without ropes over water. Sea water is not great for climbing shoes and I fully expected to throw them out prior to getting back on the plane to Australia.

As is usually the way, my expensive new shoes started to fall apart as well. Fellow climbers pointed me in the direction of a climbing shop in Railay West (the neighbouring beach) that did cheap shoe repairs.

Big solid working hands emerged clean from a patterned coat of blue and flesh that extends into the shadows of the sleeves of a black Harley Davidson tee. He was barefoot and grey bearded.  however I noticed none of these features. Oz is a gentle person and hides behind a coy smile. It acts like a window, through which this strong and solid human to appears to take up less space in the room, due largely to that 'oh so Thai' nature of making every effort to not make others uncomfortable.

The work he has done on my shoes is spectacular. I had been told in Australia that these shoes were beyond repair. Yet repaired they were, to the point of looking new, although a little faded, as they hung in this mans meaty hands.

I told him so, and he sidesteps the compliment. I ask him for a photo, he sheepishly agrees. I shoot one photo on the instant camera.

Then I give it to him.


It's the first shot of the "Hands and Faces" project and the idea came to me within that very instant.

Something spectacular happened on the other side of the glass. Oz opened up. His smile became genuine and his body language relaxed. He laughed and told me, through very broken English, stories about his tattoos and why he doesn't climb anymore, About the best spots to climb and eat and what the area was once like.

That small act had made his day and it definitely made mine.

Ordinary people are often baffled by the fact that a photographer would like to take a photo of someone they don't know. I think it's the ultimate complement. That person was so interesting, that based on nothing other than their face and clothing, you were inspired to capture that instance.

This way, we both get something from the experience. We make a photo together, each take a photo from it and are both richer for having looked deeper into another person.