Fallen tree

I don’t think much about destinations. If I’m headed somewhere I start to think about taking photos the moment I walk out the door. On this day, I was on my way to the National Park at Lake Saint Clair, about 45 mins drive. Only 15 mins from home this scene appeared on my left.The fallen tree was hard to miss just metres from the roadway. Stopping at these places may be problematic if there is no shoulder or you’re on a bend. If you’re serious about photography (and not lazy), you make the effort. Sometimes these images are better than what you might get at your ‘destination’. In these types of locations I drive very slowly, pull over often and do a lot of looking. I’ll frequently move off the road to allow cars following me to pass. I make my own pace. Mt Roland in the background. Photo taken with Olympus EM5 12-40mm 2.8.

Right place...

…at the right time. I happen to be passing through Ross - a small town a few hours out of Hobart, Tasmania heading north. Occasionally you might come across some hotrods making their way to a show. Some fancy chromework here. This one is obviously in mint condition. I didn’t have much time as they only pass through stopping for refreshments and the like. I had to interrupt my flow (narrative) from previous posts as I was super excited to find this rather excellent image which I had forgotten about.

Heading off for a swim

I mentioned how living at a place gives you access to images under different conditions. I came across a french photographer in Sydney who spent two weeks in Tasmania yet came back without any memorable photos according to him. Having lived there for around 7 months, observing the landscape and changing conditions, I still haven’t been able to relate to this experience. Tasmania is not like the UK for example where it might be overcast for weeks on end. Here, the weather seems to blow over and give more variation. He may have been in search of ‘the banger’.

evening light

I did say that I had not intended to document this location under different weather conditions. But it was a place I would come to most afternoons for a meditation. Just to the left of this scene is the boat shed. How’s the serenity?!

another part of the story

Further to my preaching about story telling, it’s now incumbent on me to do the same. After all I spent the best part of a year in this place not five minutes from this boat shed. To be honest, I didn’t think to document the changes that went on here after different weather conditions. Nor did I purposely do the rounds of the campers who stayed in this area overnight and document their stories. I spent more time travelling around Tasmania and came here to relax. Though being a photographer, I was never here without a camera.

So this brings up the idea of telling a story rather than simply trying to capture a killer image wherever you go. In looking for that killer shot, many smaller yet significant ‘scenes’ are overlooked. It like watching blockbuster movies rather than those that weave an interesting tale and capture your imagination – one you can be emotionally invested in and follow through a storyline to a satisfying ending. A series is like this. It keeps you engaged and thinking… what’ happens next?

free mushrooms

I took this image about 10 years ago in Tasmania a few hundred metres from the boatshed in the last post. A Nikon 850 with a Hasselblad lens (40mm Zeiss Distagon) I believe. Over the 10 years my taste has changed regarding colour rendering. I did like the way colours came from the adapted lens. However by comparison, in those images, red is to prominent in the shadow areas. Something I didn’t notice at the time. So at any given time in your photographic journey often one aspect takes your attention and only when you are done with that do you move on to the next thing. In many instances we think it might be the camera which will accomplish the task of improving our photography. It is possible that we really like the way another camera does one thing in particular well. If our images contain that element to say 90% then it might well be worth the investment. Otherwise it’s back to the photographic drawing board to develop our voice in other more significant ways, like telling a story.

strangely OK

Three Hut Point, Gordon, Tasmania

Firstly, and this is a personal choice - I’m loving this subdued colour palette. Secondly, on composition, I could have thought it to be imbalanced with so much ‘weight’ on the left side. But somehow, maybe due to the positioning of the boat in the foreground and because it crosses the centreline, it doesn’t seem that way. In any case I feel comfortable with this composition.

two wheeled letterbox

A break from coastal images…Outside of the city you have more scope for creativity. Obviously here there are no laws regarding the size and shape of your letterbox. This letterbox is in Tasmania - one of my favourite spots for photography. Not sure if I have more of these but if I do I’ll post them.

Seaweed #7

What about Seaweed #1-6? Where do we find those? There aren’t any. It sounds good though. A bit like Edward Weston’s Pepper #30 which I couldn’t really emulate given that at the very least it took 6 minutes to photograph inside a funnel. At least that’s what his notes said.

Three sisters stormfront

One thing I miss about living in the mountains - weather predictability was not a factor. If you’ve ever travelled to a specific place just to do photography and the weather didn’t co-operate, it can be very disappointing. When you factor in your time and expenses involved, it’s understandable. I lived 10 minutes walk from this landmark location. As the weather changed it was easy enough to grab a camera and reach there.

Church by the Lake

After only a short time in Iceland you really do start to notice how few trees are there. It gives the relatively small island a sweeping vista look in places. No trees to obstruct the view.

man in pool

I think the little sign at the front says 38ºC - the temp of the water. Iceland benefits from having a lot of thermal heating. I arrived there towards the end of summer. As far as photography goes it was good weather - meaning not sunshine everyday. In fact a good mix of overcast, mist, sunshine through the clouds. In one place I stayed on the east coast, another photographer from Italy who had just left apparently was cursing his whole stay - nothing but sunshine. Nothing screams holiday pics like blue skies and sunshine.