Jasper Johal

Colors

Gigi came to my studio and said, “I know you shoot mostly yogis and dancers. I have never taken a yoga class or danced professionally. But I am in love with the photos you shot of two of my friends. Could you please create some beautiful photos for me too?”

I said sure. She had a sizable bag of clothes so I figured we’d do some traditional portraits of her. I showed her where the bathroom was so she could change. After a few minutes she emerged and this was the outfit she had on. ...

Rabbit pose

This interesting form is created when yogis do a pose called the rabbit pose. I have been mystified as to why it is called that. Searching for an answer I eventually found this explanation from Yoga International magazine:

“Rabbit pose—alternately called hare pose, hare headstand, and sasangasana (sometimes written shashankasana)—is an asana that evokes nostalgia for childhood playfulness, a deep connection to nature, and the calm gentleness of bunnies. 

HANGING OUT

Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and waylay.

–– W. Wordsworth 

_

PHOTO: Jenni was teaching trapeze at Santa Monica Beach when I met her. I had just purchased a lyra (metal hoop) and she offered to come create some photos with it.

Expecting

Mothers-to-be seem to carry this soft cloud of love enveloping them wherever they go. None more so than my dear friend Jen. I met her at my local Equinox gym, where she was in charge of the exercise classes. As her belly grew we decided to create some beautiful memories of this special time.

Strength

“It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me. “

– Maya Angelou, “Phenomenal Woman”

_

PHOTO: A strong, muscled back is a one of my favorite things to photograph.

Temple

Some consider it sinful
from the day it was born
Others pile austerities on it
damaging its form
But embrace this body
For it is the only temple
our divine soul resides in
till it’s gone

–– Pardesi Pyara

WHEEL POSE

Sally is a dancer friend who became a yoga teacher. Each time we got together to shoot marketing photos for her, we would end up doing some art nudes too. 

Her back is so flexible, she can wrap herself into a circle.

LEAP

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love

– Leonard Cohen (1934–2016)

_

PHOTO: These are pictures from an old dance shoot I did many years ago. Often I stay in touch with my subjects over many years, but other times people drift away. In this case I have no idea where this dancer is anymore.

Though taken many years ago...

Named after a Ghost Ship (Photo Essay)

For Halloween I am sharing photos of a model, Mary Celeste, named after the most famous ghost ship in history.

Mary Celeste was a trade ship that left New York harbor century and half ago, and headed across the Atlantic to Genoa, Italy. On board was an experienced captain, a crew of seven, and the captain’s family, his wife and child.

Eight days later a British ship named Dei Gratia came across the Mary Celeste drifting in the middle of the ocean, some 400 miles east of the Azor...

Dreams of thee

I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright

– from a poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822)

Shelly wrote these lines for a guest of his, Sophia Stacey, who visited him in Italy in November of 1819. Sophia liked to sing while strumming a harp, and this poem, along with two others Shelley penned, were presumably songs she could use.

The title of this poem is �...

Heart Songs

We tremble at the half-forgotten sound.
The world is full of rude awakenings
And heaven-born castles shattered to the ground,
Yet still our human longing vainly clings
To a belief in beauty through all wrongs.
O stay your hand, and leave my heart its songs!

– a poem by Amy Lowell (1874–1925)

_

PHOTO: Cirque artist Jacqui displaying her graceful flexibility, from a shoot we did ages ago.

Speak to my spirit

From the wreck of the past, which hath perish’d,
Thus much I at least may recall,
It hath taught me that what I most cherish’d
Deserved to be dearest of all:

In the desert a fountain is springing,
In the wide waste there still is a tree,
And a bird in the solitude singing,
Which speaks to my spirit of thee.

–– from a poem by Lord Byron (1788–1824)

Heart Opener

The yoga pose called “Wheel”, or “Upward Bow” (Urdhva Dhanurasana) is an energetic way to warm up our body in the mornings. We soon feel a fire in our arms, legs, abdomen, and spine. It is also a great heart opener.

Love costs all we are

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

– from a poem by Maya Angelou

Dark Angel

Dark Angel, with thine aching lust
To rid the world of penitence:
Malicious Angel, who still dost
My soul such subtile violence!

When music sounds, then changest thou
Its silvery to a sultry fire:
Nor will thine envious heart allow
Delight untortured by desire.

Through thee, the gracious Muses turn,
To Furies, O mine Enemy!
And all the things of beauty burn
With flames of evil ecstasy.

– from a poem by Lionel P Johnson (1987–1902)<...

Lift me Up

Lift me up
when I am down
See the best in me
that’s your gift I sorely miss

Give wings to my imagination
Inspire my soul
that’s your gift I miss

To understand
and be understood
that’s your gift I miss the most

– from a poem by Pardesi Pyara

_

PHOTO: A while back Simona and Aria came to my photo studio in Venice Beach and decided to have fun creating cool shapes.

Mother

It is true
I was created in you.
It is also true
That you were created for me.
I owned your voice.
It was shaped and tuned to soothe me.
Your arms were molded
Into a cradle to hold me, to rock me.
The scent of your body was the air
Perfumed for me to breathe.

– from a poem about motherhood by Maya Angelou (1928–2014)

PHOTO: Pregnancy is when women who have never done nudes before will often decide they want to shoot nudes...

FRIENDSHIP

Two sturdy oaks I mean, which side by side,
Withstand the winter's storm,
And spite of wind and tide,
Grow up the meadow's pride,
For both are strong

Above they barely touch, but undermined
Down to their deepest source,
Admiring you shall find
Their roots are intertwined
Insep'rably.

– from a poem by Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

PHOTO: I never tire of dancer friends coming and shooting together. They feed off of...

HAVEN

When buffeted and beaten by life’s storms,
When by the bitter cares of life oppressed,
I want no surer haven than your arms,
I want no sweeter heaven than your breast.

When over my life’s way there falls the blight
Of sunless days, and nights of starless skies;
Enough for me, the calm and steadfast light
That softly shines within your loving eyes.

– from a poem by James Weldon Johnson  (1871-1938)

DREAMING OF YOU

Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
As sunlight on a stream;
Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of finished years.

– from a poem by Christina Rossetti (1830 – 1894)

CIRCLE

The world, for me, and all the world can hold
Is circled by your arms; for me there lies,
Within the lights and shadows of your eyes,
The only beauty that is never old.

– from a poem by James Weldon Johnson  (1871-1938)

In the moon’s dying light

Thine eyes glow’d in the glare
Of the moon’s dying light;
As a fen-fire’s beam
On a sluggish stream
Gleams dimly—so the moon shone there,
And it yellow’d the strings of thy tangled hair,
That shook in the wind of night.

– from a poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822)

PHOTO: Like the photo of Mosh I shared some time ago, the color palette for this image was inspired by the pinup paintings of Vargas.

Rise

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

– from a poem by Maya Angelou (1928 - 2014)

Remember Me

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts...

Entwined

Your soul and mine have gone the way of life:—
The dusty road where toiled the elfin strife—
Your hand entwined this hand of mine in love,
Your heart induced to scorn the clouds above—
And all the world was like a rose crowned song.

– from a poem by Fenton Johnson  (1888-1958)

Inebriate of Air am I

I taste a liquor never brewed --
From Tankards scooped in Pearl --
Not all the Vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an Alcohol!

Inebriate of Air -- am I --
And Debauchee of Dew --
Reeling -- thro endless summer days --
From inns of Molten Blue --

When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove's door --
When Butterflies -- renounce their "drams" --
I shall but drink the more!

Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats --
And Saints -- to windows ru...

Poised in air

Tell me,
Was Venus more beautiful
Than you are,
When she topped
The crinkled waves,
Drifting shoreward
On her plaited shell?

For me,
You stand poised
In the blue and buoyant air,
Cinctured by bright winds,
Treading the sunlight.
And the waves which precede you
Ripple and stir
The sands at my feet.

– from a poem by Amy Lowell

PHOTO: My friends like hanging around my studio. Crystal does it with such style.<...

Serenely Sweet

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

– from ...