ghxsts bio picture


Welcome to my blog!

Hello my name is: Icicle Audacity. All I see are ghxsts. I'm the misguided stride for self improvement - a sadistic, futuristic machine. A hollow cold emitted through vibrant lights, it’s a warm as wool winter but I’ve got a chill I can’t shake. This is what I am & I think I’m fine in my own misguidance. My bones are frozen, my marrow has turned to ice - my body is just a body, a corpse without a head. I'm just a vessel & my brain has long been dead.

Dylan McAmmond
En Vogue Photography

"That's really the only thing that matters to me, is that I make art for a living. And if I make art for a living... I win."

i fall

We’re all born into this river without knowing how to swim, and eventually we learn how to keep this water under our chin. Sometimes this river is so cold to be in, freezing my soul, solidifying my skin. regardless of how far I see, I never see my travels in – we’re carried by the current, being driven by the wind. The scenery we pass, we’ll never see again – so we store it up as memories and don’t let go of them.


Few pics of my studio =). Almost how I want it, just need to get a few more prints up and a big TV for the new wall that my brother in law built for me!

LarisSa - woooOOooow...i LOVE your studio :))))October 4, 2010 - 11:25 am

two birds, one stone

It’s like jumping into the largest ocean on planet earth, immersed in the sensation of life. Truth can be a dangerous thing to fall victim to, it can come to you at any time. It’ll find you in that ocean no matter where you are and grab you by your ankles. Stuck in one place it’s just a matter of time before it hits you. People will remember that night like it was their own lives that ended. They will only be able to say “It just exploded. It exploded into thousands of pieces. Like shards of glass dancing to the bottom of the ocean, shining in the light of the moon”. It will remind you how much you miss the way old songs woke you up in the morning. Or how quickly autumn turns into spring and you just wish you took the time to catch the scent of fallen leaves.

Ty - beautifulOctober 2, 2010 - 6:15 am

allen wilson - Knarley lighting!October 11, 2010 - 8:46 pm


Old shot I made over 3 years ago now… time to start doing personal projects!

“I pour this out for you
like a partner in crime
it’s part of the times
when you’re sick in the mind”

Nck - This is good.March 4, 2014 - 1:39 am

all i see is ghxsts

Can’t wait to start shooting large format.

we’re looking out on the day of another dream.

“We should be looking at our potential, stretching ourselves into everything we can become”

we all chase money ’cause we’re scared to chase dreams.

Children have many aspirations, dreams of a future that is limitless – anything is possible. A train driver, a singer, a doctor, an astronaut, a ballerina, a writer, a vet… as a child we dream of becoming any and all of these things and more. The truly special part about these dreams is the innocence of childhood that allows us to believe that these dreams are achievable. Yet, as we grow older, we often become disillusioned and give up these dreams in place of something more realistic.

Why do we lose sight of these dreams? Is it because of obstacles in our paths, such as a lack of funding – being unable to afford the dance training to become a ballerina? Is it insecurity – believing that we aren’t smart enough to become an astronaut; we aren’t talented enough to become a famous singer? Or is it because our priorities have changed? Instead of being focused on becoming whatever interests and excites us, perhaps we focus more on the path to a stable and successful future; for example, believing that our original goal of becoming an actor would not provide job security and we wouldn’t make any money, so we dismiss this dream. This would stem from the thought that we would not be successful in this industry, which, of course, links back to insecurity.

Supposing that we forget out dreams because our priorities and interests change as we grow older, why does this change occur? Was that obsessive dream we once had just a passing phase? Did we merely lose interest as soon as a more appealing idea was conceived? Perhaps.

But how much is that loss of interest due to insecurity?
Do we dismiss our dreams because we fear we cannot fulfill them? Maybe too, it is not just a fear of failure that holds us back, but fear of ridicule, that our dreams are too unconventional, too great, or not great enough.

It is true, not all dreams are lost; some people are fortunate enough to become that which they aspired to be. But as for the rest of us, what happened to that childhood dream? Does it still exist? Is it still possible? Or is it lost, outgrown and cast away forever?


Through the eyes of a child,
I don’t understand the word no,
I don’t understand stop,
I just understand go.

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here – that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be? “

one love. won love.

Famous last words:

“Money can’t buy life.”

Tuesday’s with Morrie

Good read.

“Everybody knows they’re going to die, but nobody believes it. If we did, we would do things differently, ‘So we kid ourselves about death,’ Most of us walk around as if we’re sleepwalking. We really don’t experience the world fully because we’re half asleep, doing things we automatically think we have to do… Learn how to die, and you learn how to live.”

New Clear Bombz

There is a sensation of nothing; yet something. The lack of feeling engulfs the senses, creating a feeling of its own: one that is longed to be ridden of – a feeling of wanting to escape. It is claustrophobia of sorts, unable to breathe in such a small, compact space, edging closer to the source of heartache, as reality slowly moves away from alertness. It is unreal, like a dissociative feeling, a wonder of “why am I here?” or the heart pounding question: “am I here?”

It is a pressure, compressing the brain smaller and smaller, ridding of more and more information, until eventually, nothing is present anymore. It is a void, frozen in time, as being unable to find release from the emptiness becomes apparent, and the motivation, the energy to go on is lost. Power becomes powerlessness. Hope becomes hopelessness. Meaningful becomes meaningless. Everything is diminished, and the key to this prison cell is swallowed up by the inability to look for answers.

Time transcends; life decreases. This feeling eats at the short fuse that is sanity, and once is has been cindered — nothing.

Zara - Your blog is so inspiring. I'm addicted.February 9, 2011 - 9:05 pm

Dylan - Thanks!! =)February 9, 2011 - 11:06 pm

Zara - I read everyone of your blog entries!February 10, 2011 - 3:44 pm

Dylan - Hahah awesome!! =) I guess that means I need to get posting some more for you to read =PFebruary 13, 2011 - 12:26 am