Tell us more about the campaign. What is it that you are championing for?
The campaign is bigger than just one person. It’s about you. It’s about me. It’s about getting off our butts and doing something. It’s about public memory and a place for everyone who has made a significant contribution to the Garden City.

OK, what is your strategy to pull off a successful campaign then?
My Vice-President, Aveline Constance Thambiyah and I spent late nights over countless Milo-Dinosaurs cracking our heads on this one. So far, the general consensus is that we need more members for ASS!

More members? Is it hard recruiting members for ASS?
Well, I’ll admit that it’s hard for ASS to compete with so many groups in NUS. But, we seem to garner a lot of interest from males with a penchant for tight T-shirts. Thanks to my lovely sidekick, Aveline, no doubt.

Are we expecting quiet petitions, loud speeches, chaotic rallies or the kissing of babies from you?
I’ll do anything to get attention for my campaign. Anything! Babies? Heck, I’ll kiss old ladies!

By undertaking a political campaign, aren’t you scared of going to jail?
Jail?! We’re doing everything with utmost respect for the law of the land, mind you! We fully intend to get the endorsement of the authorities for everything we do. Furthermore, we live in a democracy with the right to free speech enshrined in the constitution itself!

What repercussion do you fear the most?
Is a country of fear a country at all? Did Singapore gain its independence through fear? Of course not! Franklin D. Roosevelt said “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” and that’s my mantra.

If you are President of Singapore for a day, what will be the first thing you do?
Well, there’s just so much any President can do within 24 hours. I’ll declare it “Self-Expression Day”, throw the gates of the Istana wide open and invite everyone for a massive, rocking political party!

How did you get started in this line of work?
I started out as a dancer. After performing onstage for a while, a couple of my friends asked me if I would be willing to perform at private shows—and I have never looked back since. I have been in this line of work for close to seven years now, and I am engaged mostly for hen parties.

Do you have a “normal” office job, or is this your full-time job?
Yes I do have a normal job. I am an administrative assistant, and my workplace is near the CBD (Central Business District). Being a male stripper is merely a sideline.

Are you naturally this...outgoing?
Well, I am not exactly the most outgoing person around, though I am not shy or meek either. That being said, while you are on the job, you have to learn to let go of any inhibitions that you may have in order to provide a good show for the clients. I must say that my background as a dancer has helped me a lot in overcoming my inhibitions.

Do you enjoy your job or is it “just a job” to you?
You have to enjoy what you are doing in order to be able to provide a good show for the clients, as it will show if you do not. I must add that this is a two-way process, for if the clients are not responsive or too shy, then there is only so much that I can do. But if the clients themselves are able to let go and just have fun, then I can say that the 20 minutes I give them will be one of their most memorable.

Have you ever had to go completely buff or do you just tease?
Yes I have had to go completely buff! Basically I offer two choices: The full monty or down to my g-string. Every stage of the performance is teasing in nature, though I must say that the loudest screams usually come during the moment when I remove the first piece of my clothing, which usually is a shirt, and when it is just the g-string.

How do you keep in shape for the job?
Hitting the gym is definitely a must, and I usually go about three times per week. In addition to that, facials and body scrubs and waxing treatments are also necessary in order to keep my skin smooth, since despite what most people think, looking too much like a gorilla is not sexy at all!

What’s the wildest assignment that you’ve done?
A particular bride-to-be was one of the more sporting clients that I have encountered so far. The crowd essentially consisted of girls who were in their 20s, and who were pretty havoc. Obviously there was lots of screaming, and the bride-to-be was able to put pieces of food on my body without thinking too much of it, which basically told me that she was able to just let go and enjoy herself.

Do you have any one particular move that gets the ladies screaming?
I have the bride-to-be seated on a chair with her back facing me, such that she will not be able to see what I’m doing, though the rest of the girls will be able to. Then, I remove my shorts and dangle them in front of her. The suspense about whether I still have my g-strings on or I’m stark naked almost always gets the bride-to-be screaming.

We played our first show in 1998 and we were terrible, but it was an enjoyable thing for us. We all grew up together, we went to school together and we got into music together.

The “no-guitar” sound just sort of happened. We had a guitarist for a long time, but basically he just gave up, and then we didn’t have a guitarist, and that’s why we still don’t have one today.

When we play live, it’s just the three of us. Tim plays bass on the records, and keyboard bass. We’ve sort of embraced technology to help Tim out because he doesn’t have enough hands.

Being on the road over the past couple of years has really educated us musically.

We were surprised when re-listening to Hopes and Fears how polite it sounded because we had basically been on the road rocking out for two and a half years and we played louder and harder and we wanted to get that energy onto this new album.

The songs on Under the Iron Sea are definitely a progression from Hopes and Fears. These songs are a lot tougher and much darker and ask more difficult questions.

On this record we wanted to talk about a lot of the things you don’t normally talk about, the things you pretend aren’t there or aren’t bothering you.

Under the Iron Sea is sort of a metaphor for there being stuff buried away somewhere. It’s sort of something you use to protect yourself from each other.

The first song, “Atlantic”, is basically about the fear of losing your friends and dying alone. It’s kind of like, “I hope we can all get through this and get a record out…”

We weren’t getting on too well while “Crystal Ball” was being written. It’s just a metaphor for sweeping something under the carpet.

We signed to a major label because we wanted to go to places like Bangkok and travel the world and get to play in Japan. If you want to do that, it’s very expensive, so you need someone to help pay for the flight.

I think illegal downloading is a bad thing. While it may not harm bands as big as Metallica or Keane, it does harm other people. If there are artists that aren’t selling that many records, downloading is going to hurt them.

I think the concept of record companies being these huge evil people that don’t deserve all the money they get… it’s probably a lot more complicated than that.

However, we also know that we benefit enormously from the Internet. We definitely benefited a lot in the early days from word of mouth in Internet forums and discussions.

If the only way someone has access to one of our songs is by illegally downloading it, then to be honest, that’s OK with me because I’d rather they hear it than not hear it.

If someone had the choice to download it legally or illegally, I’d rather they do it legally of course…

Tell about your racing record.
I started go-karting when I was seven years old, racing in the Bira International Circuit in Pattaya. I was already hooked. Before that, I was watching Formula 1 everyday on TV and begging my parents to buy me a go-kart. Eventually, I started driving almost every weekend at Seacon Square with a really old car that they bought me. I got a podium place, which impressed a lot of people.

Have you ever gotten hurt racing?
No, I’ve been lucky so far.

What makes you continue racing?
The feeling that I want to win.

What is the main reason BMW chose you?
I think I am a fast and good driver—that’s why BMW chose me.

How do you prepare for a race?
I do a lot of fitness training in the gym—three hours every day with my personal trainer. Before racing, I go through all the data from last year and all the previous years. Then I walk the track and get to know it so I will be ready to drive.

How will the race here in September be different from the one in Indonesia?
I never entered in Indonesia so I didn’t know what the track would be like. When we come to the Bira Circuit, I am going to have an advantage because it’s my home track; I have driven it the most. I am exited to come back to Bira.

Will there be pressure racing here?
Yes, but I think it’s good pressure because I have a lot of friends that will be there to support me.

Will this job be your career in the future?
I would love to make it my career.

Will we ever see Thais in Formula 1?
A lot of my friends are racing cars and doing well nowadays. I think Thai people’s opinions are changing—they want to try it.

I’ve been a music lover since I was a kid. At the time, Chatri, Pink Panther, XYX and Hot Pepper were my favorites. The more I listened, the more I learned about music and about how to write a song.

I’ve always felt lonely. I needed love and warmth because I didn’t stay with my parents. So I tried to find something to fill the hole in me.

I started composing songs my sophomore year of university as an advertising major. After graduating, I worked in an advertising agency for two years, but I felt that it was not for me.

I got my start as a song composer by walking into Butterfly Records and telling them I wanted to be a songwriter. They didn’t believe that I could do it, but they gave me a chance.

My first song was on Autobahn’s album—it’s called “Thoer Koer Siang Pleng.” The rhythm was composed by Surasi Ittikul and I was so thrilled as he is my hero.

The album Sleepless Society came from my low-spirited and disheartened feelings. After 10 years in the music industry, I felt tired of this profession.

I normally have insomnia. I do most of my work at night. When you can’t sleep, it can be because you feel lonely, you are thinking of someone, you are sad or even happy.

I meant to do Sleepless Society as an indie album for Grammy on a low budget, but when Marsha listened to my song, liked it and agreed to sing it, things got bigger. I never thought it would be such a huge success.

This album has changed my life. I’m getting far more attention from people than before, the company trusts me more and lots of people want me to write songs for them.

Songwriting is still a hard thing for me. I’ve never felt that I’m a super quality songwriter and I don’t want to be one. I just write what I feel.

Now I understand the feeling of people who are afraid of the audience’s expectations. I began to feel stress when working on Sleepless Society II.

I do what I like and I do the best I can for today, for the moment. I don’t expect it to be as great as the first album anymore. That would be too nerve-racking.

Some like to compare me with Boyd Kosiyabong. For me, we are poles apart. His albums are positive and warm while mine are more dark, sad and lonely.
I like his songs a lot, though.

Pirated music is the downfall of the music industry. Unlicensed cassettes and CDs have always been around but not as much as today.

Technology makes things worse. Before we had MP3s, but it wasn’t that bad because downloading a song took too long. With high speed Internet, it’s much easier.

It turns out that educated and sophisticated people are the ones who buy most of the pirated music, while the lower market like fans of luuk thung, Palapol or Punch buy licensed CDs.

If I didn’t have such support and feedback from the album, I would feel so disheartened that I might quit.

I beg you all to support real CDs. Music makers spend time, money and labor in making an album. If we all become discouraged, who will make songs for you then?

What is drifting?
It is making a car lose traction, but still being able to control it.

How did you become a drifter and where did you get the inspiration?
It was when I saw a Japanese driver demonstrating his gymkhana driving technique in Bangkok while ago. I was so impressed. After that I saw it on video, in magazines and on the internet.

Where do you practice?
I practice mostly at Yes Indeed on Kaset-Navamin Road. Sometimes I go to Bangkok Racing Circuit (BRC) at the back of Seacon Square. Otherwise I will practice on any empty space at night.

Is drifting dangerous?
I don’t think it’s as dangerous as most people expect, because we do it in a big empty space. There are fewer opportunities to have a big accident. Accidents are a part of every sport; you just have to know how to guard against them. The biggest drifting accident I’ve seen was on a video of an Australian driver who lost control and his car flipped up in the air. Luckily I’ve never seen that happen in Thailand. But of course it’s a kind of extreme sport.

Anything you want to say to newbies?
Every first timer should learn from a more experienced driver: observe, and listen with respect, otherwise you’re wasting your time and money. Find the right car and know how to use the tires and gas effectively in order to lower the cost of each practice. Don’t drive recklessly on the street and cause trouble to other drivers. It’s not very cool when you’re causing trouble on the street.

What is a basic technique to practice?
The basic technique is the doughnut, where the car turns around in a circle. After that you can try to make double circles, which looks like a number 8. Another technique is yaw drifting, or side-to-side drift—picture it as you’re shaking your butt, but it’s a car butt. My favorite technique is using the emergency brake to make the car lose traction before going into the corner in order to make a drift.

What are your future plans?
If all goes as planned I’d like to open my own drifting school.

Once my father passed away, everything changed. When a crisis happens you find out who your true friends are.

I never realized how tiring it was being a spokesman. Basically you have to know everything, and a human cannot know everything.

It’s a balance between saying what you can say, saying what you should say and saying what they want you to say.

This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity is an experience for anyone who is interested in politics or in sharpening their mind.

You see the same things happening over and over again, in international news, local news and so forth. Sometimes we think, living in our little world, that our problems are huge. But look at other people; they have the same problems. If you look closely, the ways of solving problems are basically the same everywhere.

If you have an understanding of the world and its cultures, it makes you a better person.

When Khun Aphisit asked me to join, on one hand I was really happy, but on the other I was reluctant, wondering if I was financially ready, and what would happen if I lost. But I got to a point where I thought, if I’m not ready now, when will I be ready? The opportunity is now.

If you have an opportunity to do something and you know you can do it, you should. Otherwise you will live in regret, and living in regret is much worse than dying doing it.

The best thing a person can have is not money—it’s information.

I’m not a person who lives and dies by the news. When I come home in the evening, I’d rather listen to music.

Whether you’re a spokesman or an international chief, the most important thing is to have fun; otherwise it will become tedious.

I admire Khun Aphisit. He’s the person that pulled me into the politics. For a man to express respect and admiration for another man, it’s not easy.

Politics started to become more important to me in the time of Black May. Before that I just didn’t care. After the protest in the street, the shootings and the cover up, I realized democracy is not something you just take for granted anymore. It’s something you have to cherish.

At the age of 21, I was still young enough to be idealistic and old enough to have my own opinion. I saw people on the street and thought: They don’t have to be here. They could be at home on the sofa watching Ching Roy Ching Lan. But they’re there because they love this country; they love democracy. So I started to feel: What am I doing and why am I doing nothing?

I have nothing to give you except my loyalty, I always tell Khun Aphisit on his birthday. I give that to him wholeheartedly. It sounds gay, but it’s not.

People say you should prepare to be a politician by studying political science. But I know many political scientists who couldn’t be politicians. Political science tells you what you should do; being a politician is what it really is.

I read a quote from President Richard Nixon that helps me understand a lot of things. It says that, to be a leader in this world, you have to see things as they are, not as you want them to be.

Is this the first contest you’ve participated in?
No, I’ve sent my works to many competitions—product, graphic, logo design contests plus others. But I had never won.

Were you hoping to win this prize?
Of course. I hope to win every contest. I try to do my best every time.

Are you a prize hunter?
Usually it’s a part of the course I’m studying. Teachers assign us projects and we can send the works we’ve done to contests, too. When I saw my friends winning awards, I felt a push to work harder to be like them. It allows us to practice, doing a real job. If we win a prize, at least we have more credibility and it’s a chance to meet professional people in the design field. It’s also a guarantee that we can work when we send portfolios out applying for a job.

Why did you design it the way you did?
I thought about it for a while and realized that buying a wild animal for a pet is just short-term happiness. It’s true that people have the right to raise any pet they want, but thinking on behalf of the animals, they aren’t used to city life. Everyone wants to stay in one’s own home—wild animals, too. It might be cute when it is a baby, but when it grows, it might not be as cute as before. When it loses its cuteness or grows too fierce to be controlled, the owners usually leave it in a temple or something. I think we shouldn’t play with their lives like we play with a toy. It’s not a doll; it’s a life.

Did you spend a long time working on this piece?
In practice, it was just one night, but I spent a long time coming up with the concept and wording.

Why do you think your work was chosen?
I think the angle I took was quite simple, but it gets to the point and is direct. The picture is something unusual for this kind of campaign, too. It’s fresh.

From the blown-out phone booth you’re huddled in pretending to make a phone call, the sign above the darkened shophouse across the street can just about be read. Yeah, this is the same place you came to about a year ago. A figure behind the plate glass window inside the shophouse can barely be made out, nervously pacing back and forth. Well, it’s now or never.

“Buut mai?” Are you open?

“Buut, khap.” Yep.

Stepping in, the metal grate clanks down behind you with finality, as if to say, “You’re here now, and you are not leaving anytime soon.” The silhouettes of chairs and tables leaning at queer angles confirm your suspicions that this place is not open for business during normal working hours. You make your way towards a dim light at the back of the shop, then follow a set of stairs to a second floor that looks something like a flophouse. A single lamp with a bare bulb harshly illuminates a room crowded with overturned furniture and clothing racks like an abandoned warehouse. Two girls in various states of undress lie uncomfortably on black pleather couches amid trashy celeb magazines and garbage. Some guy who looked like he was sleeping sits up suddenly and moves to the other side of the room. Oh shit, you think, has this place turned into a dodgy massage parlor since I was last here? A heavy woman who could easily be a mamasan sits at a disheveled-looking desk, looking you up and down while your mind races…

“Two hundred baht,” she says suddenly, and in a trance you hand over the money, assuming this is an entrance fee. She shoves a pale green ticket in your hand and points to a door leading upstairs.

Reaching the landing, you surprise the sleeping staff and the DJ robotically puts on 50 Cent’s “In da Club.” You sit at the bar and redeem your drink. Before long, a big, sleazy looking guy in a disheveled suit from some cheap Nana tailor comes into the room and puts his arms around the shoulders of two girls you hadn’t noticed standing at a nearby table. One girl is wearing cut-off jeans and a tank top from Bebe, while the other, inexplicably, has on a baby blue chamois gown from God knows where. The three appear to know each other, and the guy intones deeply, “Yo soy Americano,” in a ridiculous accent, and then, “So who’s driving the car tonight?” The girls laugh endearingly at him, and they exit. Over the next 45 minutes it’s a contest to see which is worse—the music or the clientele. The place is so depressing you’re on the verge of tears. When you stand to leave, the bartender wakes up and asks if you’d like another drink, but you just keep going out the door, pretending you didn’t hear him.

Hit the Streets

“Welcome, sir. Sit down, please.”

Street people litter the sidewalks, plying their trade like nightcrawlers: fruit vendors and flower boys, whisky slingers and sad song singers, working girls, werewolves, trannies, tourists, the deformed, defamed and dispossessed of every shape and variety. The sidewalk buzzes like a cheap electric toy hooked up to a nuclear reactor. Here, the wash of the Earth collects, the catchall filter before the dirty water flows back into the ocean.

You can’t help thinking that these are the people representing Thailand to the world. Some tourists come here and this is all they see. These people, these streets. The poor street urchins who have to deal with drunk and disorderly weirdos from all over the globe night after night after night…and they look it. Some of them have faces so young, but their eyes are so old, like they’ve seen every depravity known to man, every sin, every vice—because they have.

La La Land

You get to the second floor of some muti-level bar complex at about 3:15am and are immediately met by an overanxious lady boy dragging you into a club. The music is really loud and it’s going like this: “boom boom boom boom, I want you in my room…,” which is a bit nauseating, especially considering there is almost no one here. You sit and talk to a crew of three ladyboys and two gay dudes for a while. They tell you this bar is popular with Thai people who get out of work late but still want to party. This one dude, “Bank,” makes handbags and sells them at Chatuchak on the weekends, apparently, but when times are tight he comes down here for “freelance” work. In the corner are a couple of middle-aged losers in desperate need of gym memberships. They dance like spastics with their dates.

“Oh really?” you suddenly find yourself saying aloud, completely disinterested. You haven’t paid attention to a word these people have said for the last 15 minutes. Is that how much time has passed? You dig through your pockets for your phone and suddenly realize that Celine Dion is blasting on the stereo like it’s fucking AC/DC. “Once more, you open the door…” Uggh…now you think you might actually be sick…

“Listen…you… people,” you say, racking your brain for a single one of their names and failing, “I’ve got to be going now. But you take care and I’ll see you around real soon.” They look at you like you’ve got a set of antennae coming from the back of your head, but you couldn’t care less. Outside you merge into the wave of human traffic—one huge, seething mass of flesh on the go—and mentally debate the virtues of the 24-hour food options within walking distance—Soi Mogadishu? Villa Market? Subway? Hmmm…

Another Late Night

You’re sitting at a booth with Jun and Blake—who just passed out—along with some model and her boyfriend. The model is wearing a stunning little black dress by Miu Miu with an Yves Saint Laurent handbag, which is overkill for a Friday night but apparently they were out on a date or something.

A band that was playing Radiohead covers all night is cleaning up, but the guitarist continues to try to work out the lead riff of a Stone Roses track, which you are now dying to hear. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom before the taxi ride home, and when you come back to the booth, the model and her boyfriend are gone but a DJ has come on and the windows of the joint are closed over with heavy curtains, so that from the street it would appear that the place was closed. Sweet…

At the bar, you order a flask of Sang Som. Before you can pay for it, this drunk American girl opens it and starts pouring it into her glass, as if you just bought it for her. She downs what looks like a couple shots without flinching, then puts her arm around you like you are old friends. Finally, you say “Hello” just to be nice, and she just looks at you with an expression like, “I’m so hot,” which is laughable because she’s practically cross-eyed drunk and so not. Then as suddenly as she appeared, she stumbles away in a stupor. You notice that she dropped some money, so you pick it up and give it to her friend, who looks equally drunk but seems not nearly as clueless.

When you get back to the booth, Blake is lying on the ground and Jun is talking to some random guy you’ve never seen before. He’s wearing slim, black pinstriped Kenneth Cole trousers, black leather shoes from Jaspal and a weird asymmetrical shirt from Topshop. “So I just left the club with those two male models and we tried to pick up some girls,” he says, “but no one wanted to get naughty with us. We ended up driving around Khao San at about 6am. All we could find were a few trannies that wanted to give us blowjobs. It was a pretty boring night, really…” He lights a cigarette and launches into another story, during which time you are reminded of how much he looks like that guy Z-Man from Russ Meyer’s Beyond the Valley of the Dolls. 

Minutes or hours later (you’re not sure), you turn around and see two boys in brown at the door. The words “URINE TEST” flash through your mind in bold, florescent letters, and suddenly you are frantically trying to remember any illegal substances you’ve taken in the past six months. Do vitamins count? How about flu medication? Oh shoot, you remember you were taking antibiotics about a month ago—how long does that stuff stay in your system? Luckily, the police are just here to break up the party—no wee wee test this time. It is 4:30am.

House of Jealous Lovers

The hiso fashion show you just walked out of was typical—lots of beautiful people with personalities like wet cardboard. All you can think of is going home at this point, but a friend from out of town is here and it’s her last night in Bangkok.

“Come on,” she whines, “you can’t go to bed yet, it’s only 1:45! This is my last night here and you’re going to go home just because you have to work tomorrow?!” Ten minutes later you’re telling a taxi driver how to get to this place your friends once told you about that’s not too far away. At least you think it’s not too far away.

There’s a pack of queeny guys outside who discreetly lead you and your friend down an alley to a set of stairs that open into the back door of some bar. Apparently the place is a gay go-go joint by day, and it looks like some of the dancers are still hanging around, boogying in the crowd topless. This in turn prompts some of the more “excited” clientele to take off their shirts, too. After a couple drinks, you finally get it: Shirts off means you’re horny! If only scoring was always this easy…

Here’s a change: The music here is fantastic. The DJ is playing some house remix of a Fleetwood Mac tune that you never would have imagined could sound so groovy. You get a drink from the bartender, who is far more friendly and accommodating than the one at the hiso fashion show, and return to your table to overhear a foreign man hitting on a Thai girl nearby.

“Hey, you know Brad Pitt?” he asks.

“The actor? Yes…” she replies apprehensively. 

“Yeah, he’s my brother,” he says lightly. She responds with a polite laugh while walking away slowly. He follows her across the dance floor. “You know that guy Tom Cruise? Yeah, that’s my sister…”

At about 3, some guy you barely know comes up to you and says, “I go home with you tonight.” You mumble, “Err…no, um, you see…” and then as if answering some unspoken prayer, the lights come on. You ditch the weirdo and make your way to your friend, but it seems she doesn’t want to go home just yet. “Come on, there’s another place downstairs!” she yells, following some Japanese guys.

You walk down a foul-smelling hallway where discarded foam food containers lie abandoned in dim corners. Some guy can be heard telling a story to someone two or three flights up in a thick Russian accent. “No one in the history of the world has ever died of pain,” he bellows.

Down another flight you arrive in a hallway. It’s totally silent and you assume your friend must have been misinformed. There’s no party down here. The Japanese guys are walking back up the stairs when suddenly one of the horny shirtless dudes with bleached blonde hair and nipple piercings appears. He flashes a crooked smile and stumbles past you, leaning into one of the unmarked doors. Suddenly the hallway is an explosion of noise and light. A girl sitting on the inside of the door beckons you to come in quickly, then slams the door shut behind you.

This club is jumping with a more mixed crowd, and full sound and lighting system. In fact, if you didn’t know what time it was, you could easily have thought this was just a regular club. They are playing some cool hip-hop you are unfamiliar with, which blends samples of luk thung into the mix. It’s fresh, exciting, and you think to yourself, “why isn’t this kind of music played in hip-hop clubs all the time?”

As you make your way through the crowd, you are surprised how happy and upbeat the people seem. There’s no posing or pretentiousness. It’s like a house party scene in some 80s movie where people from all different scenes come together and have a good time. Every 15 minutes or so, the lights and the music suddenly get dimmer and people freeze on the dance floor, apparently because the police are rolling by. After this happens a few times, you and your friend decide it’s time to make your way home. This will be one joint to remember…that is, if you ever make it out this late again

Your photos suggest a certain intimacy with your subjects. As a photographer, how important is it to establish a relationship with the people you are shooting?
For me, emotions and feelings are the key to good photographs. It moves you (as a photographer) and your images (vision) to the next level. If an image does not communicate, provoke and make you wonder, then it is simply another picture. Images must be a result of your thoughts and must communicate to the wide audience, whether or not they understand it. It is always important to establish somewhat of a relationship with your subjects, make them trust you, and make them be a part of it.
 
The filmmaker Stanley Kubrick was fiercely close with the actors and technicians he worked with while making a film, but after the filmmaking was over, he often would never speak to the people he worked with again. Do you feel the need to distance yourself from your subjects after shooting them?
I think people in the art fields are good at manipulating people and surroundings to get what we want. This doesn’t necessarily mean that we really have to continue our relationship with them afterwards, but at the moment of creation, we must make them believe that they are everything and without them, the result would not occur.

Who are more beautiful to you—men or women?
That’s like comparing salmon and steak—both are equally healthy and delicious. Depends what you are craving at the moment...
 
Was it difficult getting your book Rare Views published?
Not really. I have been working and shooting in America for quite a long time and people know me. Getting a book published just came naturally. It is just another step in the process—after stock images and greeting cards, what was left to do but a book?

You have had some of your poetry published here in Thailand. Have you ever thought about incorporating text or poetry—either Thai or English—into your photographs?
I am actually doing it now. I am publishing a book with RS Promotion. It is a photo book with poetry and short pieces (in both Thai and English) incorporated with my images. It should be out in the fall.
 
Are men traditionally your subject matter or is that just the theme for this book?
Well, yes and no. I photograph both men and women, but I feel the need of promoting men because books of women are practically everywhere. I want to share my vision that men can be beautiful and intimate, too.