As a pair of amateur trigger-happy shutterbugs, more often than not every photography crusade we go on is very much like feeling around in the dark and batting hit and miss passes. But every once in a while, Mercury will mercifully not go retrograde and the stars will align.

On those days, audaciously flying by the seat of your pants and not having any preconceived creative direction will still accrue a series of photos more aesthetically pleasing than you could've hoped for. 

I’ve enthused over sufficient Victoria’s Secret Angels and Fashion Elite that one of my core ideas of what makes a good portrait shot (which I’d never openly admit to seeking, but this is the depraved digital age of fallacious notions of safety in hiding behind screens) is the good old windswept look, something that is beyond the ability of ordinary folk to emulate because surprise, surprise: it takes an awful lot of effort to create a shot that looks like it took absolutely no work. After all when wind isn’t given the right guidance, it can and will mercilessly turn hair into a face-enveloping tsunami. I thought I’d long come to terms with not being able to construct good portrait photos with the loose-hanging bits of my silhouette mid-sway in the gentle breeze.

And then this happened. Whereas I never like having to relinquish control of the output that a photo mission might turn up, this time I was quite happy to simply let things take its own course. It ended up with me being stood on a stone platform and awkwardly pirouetting my inner nutcracker away, with the occasional warm gusts of wind setting my dress and hair aflutter. The results turned out infinitely better than I would've imagined. Now someone give me a hair brush and a paddle pop already.

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