Sydney’s a city.
Sure, there’s a harbour, there are beaches, there’s the Opera House - but there’s also all the things that come with a large population trying to coexist on a small amount of land.
Traffic, construction, development - history getting plowed under for renewal and development, with little pockets saved by determined campaigning that, once in a while, succeeds in protecting the past…
I have a thing with numbers. I guess it is what drives my sanity in times of chaos. Its about absolute order of things. It has been like that for as long as I can remember. I always excelled at math instead of linguistics. I chose the mathematical line in high school, and obviously ended up in medschool. So numbers are a big factor in my life.
The Chronicle 90 journey is almost at the end of its lifespan. Again it was a quest of numbers. 90 days. 1 post a week.
Next week I’ll be visiting Fujifilm in Tokyo, so this week is all about preparing for that trip. Mostly about dates, hotelsbookings, time schedules, etc. You know…. the numbers.
So imagine my delight when I saw todays date.
10 images today. On 10/10. At 10:10
Now that is a journal entry in its own right. Regardless of story.
Every day we attach pieces of ourselves to others. To the people we love, to our parents, to the pets we adopt and care for...to our children, most of all, even as they race away into the unknown. Sometimes a small part of us will remain hidden, bound halfway around the globe—as we stretch across this universe, our skin ever thinner and more fragile. Vitruvian men, quartered and stoned.
These intimate spaces and moments we inhabit will fade. We will face regrets and limitless joys.
And we will face change.
We will always face change.
We stood in silence as my sisters two eldest sons lowered her ashes into the small hole in the ground. Almost three months have passed since her death, and this, the final step, hurt so bad. My dad and my eldest brother put their arms around my mum and then one by one we all walk away.
Even in death, Joyce manages to bring us all even closer together.
I returned two days later by myself to see how it looked. There is still a sense of disbelief, even when the proof is right in front of my eyes. She was the first person I would call in times like this and the urge to talk to her is overwhelming.
Today, I’m very stuck.
When Sunday came up as day of selection for Chronicle, I leapt at the chance.
Knowing (thinking?) that I’d be shooting weddings and life stories on Saturdays and that would give plenty of scope to a Sunday story.
The fact is, that’s not the case. I mean, I am shooting on Saturdays but I’m also shooting this weekend on Sunday too.
This is the rock n roll life of a modern day wedding photographer:
Yesterday
07:00 Leave home
09:00 Arrive at wedding destination three hours early. Sit in car eating Pringles. No reception on phone.
22:00 Leave wedding venue to find I have a puncture on my driver side front wheel.
Today
03:30 Arrive at the Purple Palace (Premiere Inn) located next to Gatwick airport after a 5.5 hour journey that should have been one hour.
08:21 (now). Realism there is no 4G coverage nor does the WiFi work in the hotel.
08:21 (now). Realism that Chronicle is due.
08:21 (now). Hang out of window connecting to some 3G to post something. Anything.
Future: Today
11:00 Start of a 12 Hour Wedding.
23:00 Drive three hours.
02:00 Bed & Family
And so, my friends, this week, much like last if I think about it, I don’t have the beautifully curated images my colleagues create with such ease.
In fact, I have nothing, because I have access to nothing and my predictive text on my phone is driving me crazy.
I leave you, instead, with a wedding slideshow, which does have some relation to today - in that I published it today.
Happy Sunday everybody.
It’s been a busy week after a busy Photokina week after a busy pre-Photokina week. On Thursday night, my body had enough of it and gave me no other option than to take and aspirin and go to bed. After a sweat drenched flue-like night, I wisely took it a bit slower yesterday. By late afternoon I felt much better. Just in time for Noa’s return after a five day school trip to the coast.
Pizza and a movie and staying in bed until 10 am, those are things that I hardly do these days. But I truly enjoyed them and today was a productive day, catching up on work and healthy food.
It’s fair to say that in the summer months every space is filled, every arcade becomes a cacophony of jangling coins clattering through the penny slots and the sands and promenade are brimming with visitors munching on ice cream and fish & chips as they walk with opportunistic seagulls circling overhead well into the evening.
But it’s no longer summer in Scarborough.
Last week was ‘Kina 2018 week. As I’m sure you probably know by now I was there giving 3 talks. So was Bert, Patrick and Kevin along with many others from the Fujifilm “family”. Yes I call them family, cause that is actually what it feels like to be around this particular group of people. It feels safe. I feel that I can be myself. I have strong feelings towards many of them. So yes, this is just like a family relationship.
I’m humbled beyond words to be able to have this in my life. I’m grateful for everything that it brings me. This is so far from what I expected when I took up photography those almost 10 years ago.
As with any great thing in life that must come to an end, the withdrawal effect can be overwhelming. And thats what I’m going through this week. Withdrawal.
I force myself to pick up my camera, but the mood of it all is rather dark. So I go with the flow, and do what my slumbering overloaded creative brain wants me to do. I embrace it.
So today is dark. Today is abstinence. Today is longing.
A few days have passed already. I’m sitting at the computer after a morning of catching up and preparing for a teaching project. October is shaping up to be busy—more travels, workshops, sessions. And all these images and memories to revisit and make sense of.
I was on a train a few days ago—speeding through this blurry world. At one point, just three kilometres shy of 300 km/h.
I was on a train that now seems a hundred years away.
