Day 197. As a photographer, my mediums are time and light. They are both mostly predictable, and yet sometimes, something else seems to happen, and those elements combine in unexpected ways. This was one of those times. After waiting what seemed like a long time for the rain to stop, this light flickered across the sky and was gone in seconds, like a single breath of fire. I blinked and almost missed it. And yet, closing my eyes, there was this afterimage, the extraordinary colours and forms, and I just hoped I’d pressed the shutter at just the right moment… did I?
Day 196. We drove for hours to reach this place; on the far west coast of Tasmania… the air here last touched land in South America and has ripped half way around the world to blow the sea spray into my face. We catch the tail end of a storm, and as the sharp, biting wind shocks my skin I’m thrilled – this is the weather I always think of, when I think of Marrawah. Welcome to the edge of my world…
Day 195. I liked the way the plant seemed to be reaching upwards, changing and challenging the carefully constructed balance of this man-made space… because there are always cracks, and as Natasha Cica says, the cracks are how the light gets in…
Day 194. One of the really nice things about living where I do is the fact that the whole area was clearly once (a little while before my time!) very volcanic… hence, we now have random places where these amazing hexagonal basalt columns just jut out of the landscape. This is one of the more accessible and popular of those places, if not the usual view of the falls. Just looked like a series of steps to me – climbing to where though?
Day 193. So there I was, watching the sun set over Tollymore Road, and for those of you who know this road, you will know what that means – the rich green fields layered in front of you, leading to the shock of the grey blue water beyond, with the jagged lines of Rocky Cape tracing a path towards the sun… watching that golden glow catch just the edges of each hill, I was struck by how it served to define the lines and the layers, to give depth to the scene in front of me.
And then I turned around, and saw the same golden light catching just the edges of each rich green leaf of this succulent, and I remembered – landscape photography is picturesque pattern recognition, and those patterns apply across a whole mess of scales… large or small, macro or micro. So here is the small, the micro, the succulent; but I’d like you to see if you can also imagine the hills here, rolling off towards the setting sun, feeling the warmth on your face and squinting your eyes because although you know you shouldn’t look, you don’t want to look away from this beauty until you really have to. If you can… do you recognise that pattern?
Day 192. I know, you aren’t supposed to shoot into the sun. I know, the whole top third of the frame has blown out – there’s no detail at all in those highlights. I know these things, but… I just don’t care today!
Day 191. As much as I liked this little piece of wall, there’s something deeply troubling about it for me. Is it that eternal question, that we may well ask ourselves when all the oil is gone, and all the trees are gone, and all the water poisoned? Is it the reference to stabbing at the top right of the frame? Is it that the strange jagged-tooth dinosauresque monster is clearly in love with something out of frame? No, it’s that there is no question mark at the end of the statement. Is that wrong of me?
Day 188. And the rain just keeps on going and going and going and going and going. And the wind keeps going and going and… (you get the idea)