Saturday 19 November 2011

To be or not to be...

Patterns and shapes fill my world. Watching Mr Elvis Costello interview My James Taylor last night. Some great songs and words. James Taylor said that his songwriting over the years has produced many individual songs but that the themes in his work were few. He continued to return to those ideas that were important to him and write something new from his current position. Perhaps he sang it a little more elegantly. (and what a beautiful voice)

I realise when I review my image making over the years that I also have been returning to the same themes and subjects over and over. The surface, shape, texture, angle, and line within my composition that underpin my thoughts are regular reminders of past images. The materials and subjects within my photographs return with regularity. When I'm out taking photographs I don't take a lot of time framing each image, but I do take a lot of care. I know when the composition is right and when it is not, and there is always the choice of whether to open the shutter or move on.

That particular subjects can represent feelings, thoughts and ideas is very intriguing. Why this angle or that piece of rusty corrugated iron. I sometimes shoot blind random images of textured or patterned surfaces. The choice there comes in the editing. The images I keep and those I delete fit into the familiar. I freely acknowledge the influence of other photographers and other images I have seen. The images I like are those that touch me deep below the surface of the subject. The intrinsic nature of certain images has the power to reach out and connect in a powerful way.

Many years ago a friend of mine and I sat in a bar in Gijon, Spain. My friend sat, feet resting on a second chair. A table between us. We sat and talked and every so often he would look across to a painted cast iron column reaching up to the ceiling. I've always liked that column he said with his eyes fixed. Why, I inquired. I don't know he said, I just do.


Friday 4 November 2011

Red Beans and Roses

Have been doing a fair bit of imaging of late. The camera always at hand, that sort of thing. Trouble is, you end up with an almighty filing and storage problem with images that range from a passing tattoo to decaying flowers or architectural oddities to a dead lizard on the footpath.
Storage is obviously on the computer, but if your not careful naming and archiving the images how in Bill Brandt's name do you find it again.

So I ended up with some random images of frying beans and of a bunch of roses all in the same folder. The beans were my attempt to make refried beans to go with Tacos one night. Only I happen to like refried beans at home so I thought I'd make my own on this occasion. After the frying (and they were really only fried once) I had to get the potato masher out to work them over and into a state that looked a little similar to the genuine article. They didn't ever look the same, or taste the same. I'll leave it at that.

The roses, a gift. Photographed here while still young and vibrant are, as I write quietly maturing in the bedroom. If ever two subjects were made for each other it is Red Beans and Roses. There is a visual magic between these two unlikely companions. And in a way do they not represent all that we need from the world. Sustenance, companionship and beauty. There is a reason they ended up snuggling close, the way only digital files can, together... in a folder... on my computer.




















Wednesday 19 October 2011

Caught in the ACT

Another day another journey. This time to the ACT the capital of this great big country of ours. The city festooned with neatness and quiet good order. Where the roads all lead everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Where it is impossible to get a neck strain looking at the skyscrapers. Where you can pass a kangaroo, a cow, and a modern townhouse in a freshly built estate all within a one hundred metre stretch of road. Where the weather is a little more than unpredictable and the glorious sunlight has its brightness control stuck on ten.

These images are a brief collection from our recent trip featuring some of the querkeries of our nations political headquarters. It was a short trip but now I have the taste and have been yearning to return. (Thanks J and T)
















 














Friday 30 September 2011

Finally...

Who would have thought that the Gosford Regional Art Prize would be hanging a photograph of the inside of a Galston toilet. I'm kinda pleased to say that I thought they might.

I took this image pretty much after just leaving the starting gate on the first leg of a road trip that took in Bathurst, Sofala, Hill End and Mudgee. (Not to mention our final stop on the side of the road just outside the Newcastle turnpike before the car was towed to a garage for recuperation and repairs)

This image will be hanging in the Gosford Regional Art Gallery from the 1st October until the 27th November. Please drop in and support the Gosford Regional Art Gallery (and me).


This is the second image I submitted for consideration to be hung in the Art Prize. An image I thought perhaps more likely to be hung than the image above. So pleased that I put 'The Wall' forward as it is more about where I am coming from these days. It's a good feeling that others can appreciate where I'm coming from as well. The image below is called 'Swimmer'.

I'd love to know which image you guys prefer if you'd care to comment.

Wednesday 28 September 2011

The quiet landscape

I half expect to see Sean Thornton (John Wayne) come walking down the road to commence his courtship of Mary Kate Danaher (Maureen O'Hara) in the 1952 film The Quiet Man. Later in the film Sean drags his new wife back down the road to Innisfree to her brothers farm to collect her dowry and where the final confrontation unfolds. The story goes as expected, and in the end we see the 'Duke', duking it out with the brother of the bride.

It's a little bit funny this feeling that a Black and White image now reminds me of the technicolour film above. When recalling the film, which I have only seen once, it comes back as a lusty and rich Black and White, I guess that was the strength of John and Maureen under the guiding hand of Mr John Ford.

No blows were struck on this trip to the mighty Lake St Clair unless you count those that drove the pegs that in turn secured our tent. This is such a beautiful place to visit. The lake a perfect companion and photographic subject in any weather. It's difficult to take your eyes off the lake as the light changes throughout the day creating the effect at times, that time is standing still.




















Saturday 24 September 2011

2 Days in the smoke (pt. 2)

Further to my travels in the capital of this state of nsw. Some, as yet, unseen but not neglected images of Sydneysiders at work and at play.

After a thorough viewing of the highs and lows of the Head On photographic exhibitions, some great food and enough walking in circles to confuse a donkey, we usually end up at the cinema to view something that is not artistically palatable to the Newcastle mainstream marketplace. A lovely day and night was had by all by the time we retired to the Arts Hotel in Paddo, our currently favored port of stay when in the smoke.

The images...





Monday 19 September 2011

2 days in the smoke (pt.1)

Managed to lift myself clear of obligations and encumbrances for a couple of days and spend a lil' bit of time down town in Sydney, my home town. Even ended up in my old stomping ground of Paddington, by choice and design. (Though the parking restrictions worked hard against us)

We usually strip ourselves down to two meals a day when traveling, with maybe a coffee and a slice of something sweet in between. Big breakfast and long dinner. Here is a visual extract of our activities. I know what you're thinking...


Saturday 10 September 2011

Big Wednesday (at Moonee)

Jan-Michael Vincent staggers across the beach, hungover, bleary eyed, appropriates a board from from one of the local surfers. He can barely walk but once in the water he is one with the board. He stands to ride and his disorientation, his clumsy attempts to remain upright have remained on the beach. His friends watch as he carves the wave and becomes the surfer all locals respect and revere. If you're lucky there may still be a copy of this film tucked away in a dark corner in a truckstop near you.

This was quite a big day at Moonee. The wind was blowing off shore and the swell was up. Have a look in the top right corner of the first image. There is a tiny speck. Think almost bacterium sized. That's a body surfer. I didn't see a person in the water while I was shooting at the beach. I noticed the speck when I started editing the images. I nearly became a speck in the water myself at one point when a surprisingly big set roared across the rock platform.

The three images are one wave traveling by me standing on the rocks.






Tuesday 30 August 2011

Blake in the Kitchen

Just between you and I, working in the school canteen isn't the glamorous job it's made out to be. Last week during my shift, in a lull between the grasping sticky fingers and turning the hot chicken nuggets, I found some time to look around and observe. As the camera or iPod is never far from reach, I reached for it, I looked down, I tried to bring order to the universe with the camera as my compass, my gyroscope. The world quietened and all became serene.

With iPod in hand I traveled through the room. Venturing past the obvious and looking for some insight, something new, a place where I hadn't been before. I found these six images which seemed to belong together. They gave me space and understanding, and a feeling of being connected to what I was observing.

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour
from Auguries of Innocence, William Blake.



Saturday 27 August 2011

Solid Rock

As I was saying, water has a hold on the images I make... and on me, always has. I incline my head and recall many early morning trips to ocean baths and other coastal locations to try and capture the essence of what I see and feel. What is it that invades my consciousness and draws me deeper within itself and myself.

The slightly rank smell of dried out seaweed scattered along the beach or across the rocky platform. The misty salty spray dampening my face while I hold the camera under my shirtfront or behind my back to protect it from corrosive decay. The tremendous constant crash of waves breaking, relentless and overpowering and also calming and inducing a meditative focus.

I walk, run, crouch and stare. I stand and watch as time stands still but never stops. Moment by moment all is reborn before my eyes as through the lens. I want to capture every single moment, each tiny crack between every second that passes. I become the moment and the moment becomes me. I am lost and found in one place and in all places.




And even as the subject changes, still it stays the same...


Thursday 25 August 2011

Water Blogged

Water, liquid, aqua, fluid, juice, solution, pond, dam, lake, loch, reservoir, river, stream, creek, billabong, rivulet, spring, puddle, drip, flood, cascade, waterfall, ocean, lagoon, bogeyhole, bay, canal, estuary, sea, pool, puddle, splash....

Never far from the water it seems. Looking back I realise that all the posts so far have been rather damp. I am landlocked and surrounded literally by that which makes up 70% of my body. On one side the big blue, on the other "Australia's Largest Inland Salt Water Lake", or so the rusty sign says.

All that catches the attention of my lens today and most days is that which gives us life.