The camera floated just above the small waves washing around my feet as the slow shutter speed and morning glow combined to 'melt' water, stone and seagrasses into a series of flowing, surreal sculptures.
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The angles in nature are organic. Sometimes similar or repeating but never the same.
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The sky half promised a colourful sunset so I set off to a location that I had scouted a few days before. I plan my shoots with the happy understanding that they will not go completely (or at all) to plan. It’s one of the reasons I love the whole process of photography.
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Engaging, thoughtful art can help create a sense of calm and I think that classically presented black and white photographs are a perfect fit (of course you do, I hear :-).
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It is in the glow of afternoon light that beauty washes over this place. Nothing is forgotten, even when the evidence of devastation is so overwhelming. Yet, a little green and the warmth of burnished bark hints at a tomorrow not imaginable just a few days ago.
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He hadn't really noticed it before Ellen passed. He'd seen a pelican sitting on the stern many times but hadn't thought it was the same one. You could easily tell it had been visiting there for a while though. A pelican's shit is hard to hide.
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She was coming home and the tattered picture stuck to the inside of her carry on pack was the only reality of ’home’ she possessed. Her memories were now more like third party recollections...
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Today, like yesterday, Thomas was waiting. He was thousands of kilometres away from yesterday and the similarity of the difference struck him just here. Just now.
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