look | aura photography

via fader, unedited and uncut!

To begin with, my interest in auras was purely photographical. I had traced a friend's tripped out Facebook photo to a set of images created by Carlo Van De Roer, a photographer with a modified Polaroid machine that used long exposures and heat sensors to capture extra-dimensional color. I started doing a lot of research and placing the occasional eBay bid that I couldn't dream of backing up (search Kirlian Aura Camera -- I'm pretty sure it's still there if anybody wants to go halvsies), but I didn't get too far.

Anyway, in addition to a stack of paranormal photos and auction listings, my tangent turned up an improbable address down in Chinatown. I went to Magic Jewelry straight away, but found it closed on my first two tries. It's a tiny carpeted thing you could walk past a thousand times, buried in a cell phone strip mall with vendors crowding the front door to near invisibility.

When I finally did get inside, I was underwhelmed by fluorescent light, mall-grade crystal displays and loads of unnecessary lamination. I was with two friends who took their turns on the aura throne first and I had one eyebrow up so high it almost touched my damn hair. That first wave of skepticism got vibrated out of me as I waited my turn in a rejuvenating crystal chamber. It was a thrown together joke at first glance -- a lawn chair under a kind of chuppah, hung and flanked with oversized quartz -- and I sat down smirking. But the undeniable energy that rattled my scalp seconds later, straightened my face out real quick.

My turn came to be photographed and I sat in front of a velvet curtain with my hands spread out across two metal sensors. I held very still, stared down the camera and waited for my results. Fifteen minutes later, the attendant turned over a turquoise-ghosted polaroid and told me that I needed some rest. She continued with a spot-on reading, calling out everything from very real physical ailments to totally abstract character flaws (bitch!).

Now anybody could tell you with half a squinting look that I need a nap. And I'm really not a particularly new agey guy, despite what the horsie sweater above may lead you to believe. I don't eat much quinoa and, aside from the fact that we are some 75% water and the moon controls the tides, I think most horoscopes belong wrapped around a Bazooka gum piece. I also have a big heap of doubt that you can tweak a Polaroid camera to tell you the future. But I'll tell you what. One $15 trip to Magic Jewelry and I was a true believer. In what, I'm still not sure. But I will definitely be back often to try and figure it out.

Fuck you in advance for crowding up my favorite place.