the setting sun

^{[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 8 January 2022].}

Apologies for the radio silence the past week.

In the wee hours of this morning, I caught myself writing, "It's been a long week but a good one."

I can't honestly say I remember the last time I said that.

A long week, yes. But a good week? Nope. No idea when I last said that.

And looking back today, I feel like the last year of "no drama" in my life was 2017 or 2018.

I have some temporary work starting next week, which appears positive. Especially since my mentioning photographing roadkill didn't scare my new colleagues off in my interview. It explained why I can manage the imagery I might have to deal with in this role.

I've had refreshingly honest conversations the past couple of weeks with new and old friends. And while I'm accustomed to that with old friends, it's a good feeling to have that with new/ish friends (and maybe more-than-friends).

After the past few years, I'm optimistic about 2022. But cautiously so. My mantra has become "Hope for the best, prepare for the worst". But, so far, 2022 is treating me well.

I hope it's treating you well too, and I will be back with more new work very soon.

tenterfield

^{[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 16 November 2021].}

Continuing the theme from last week's #TravelTuesday post, this week's photo essay is a series of photographs taken in and on the approach into Tenterfield. Tenterfield was the next town along the New England Highway after we witnessed the bushfire from Bolivia Hill.

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untitled #300 [tenterfield, new south wales, australia, 2021]

In some ways, these photographs seem far less devastating to look at than last week's photo essay.

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meet some local characters [tenterfield, new south wales, australia, 2021]

However, seeing the blistered paint and fire damage on the mileage sign on the outskirts of town made me catch my breath, and I actually teared up a bit.

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untitled #303 [tenterfield, new south wales, australia, 2021]

Even though I'm not connected to Tenterfield in any way, seeing how close the fire had come to the town was overwhelming.

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the peter allen motor inn [tenterfield, new south wales, australia, 2021]

There was still a part of me that quietly chuckled about the content of the billboards that remained in the drought-riddled and scorched earth. But my amusement was tempered by the stark reality of what I was seeing.

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untitled #301 [tenterfield, new south wales, australia, 2021]

At the time, I was aware of having heard the town had no clean water, but I had thought this was due to the bushfires. I didn't realise until just now, on Googling that fact to confirm it, that Tenterfield residents had been without clean drinking water for a month before I drove through. And they were still boiling their water in mid-December 2019, with no sense of when that would end.

Though the fire seemed only to have licked the edges of town when we drove through, it was a sight that had a profound impact on me.

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untitled #309 [tenterfield, new south wales, australia, 2021]

I can only imagine what the residents of Tenterfield were feeling around the time I passed through.

torrington from bolivia hill

^{[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 10 November 2021].}

In some ways, it's hard to believe I took these photographs two years ago already. Simultaneously, it's hard to believe I only took them two years ago.

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untitled #290 [torrington from bolivia hill, bolivia, new south wales, australia, 2019]

These were taken on an eight-day road trip from Melbourne to Brisbane in November 2019. For those who may not know: it was a somewhat ill-fated, though, ultimately, successful road trip.

There were limits to what could be seen and done during the trip due to a fractured ankle I acquired about twelve days before departure.

It also involved regular appraisals of the route taken - and ultimately an extensive detour - to avoid fierce bushfires sweeping across large areas of the Australian countryside, from Victoria through New South Wales to Queensland.

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untitled #276 [torrington from bolivia hill, bolivia, new south wales, australia, 2019]

Thankfully, this was the closest I came to a bushfire during the journey, albeit nearer than I would ever have liked to come. Though it's not evident from these photographs, my eyes perceived - and one particular photo I took on my iPhone showed - exactly how close the fire still was. Just on the ridge, slightly to the right of the centre of that image.

The spectacle was breathtaking. Devastatingly beautiful and heartbreaking.

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untitled #291 [torrington from bolivia hill, bolivia, new south wales, australia, 2019]

The sky was that hazy amber colour for quite a distance before I finally came upon its source. These images were captured on the incline of Bolivia Hill, looking toward Torrington, to the west of the New England Highway in New South Wales.

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untitled #288 [torrington from bolivia hill, bolivia, new south wales, australia, 2019]

As alluring as the scene was for a photographer to capture, I was acutely conscious of the dangers of lingering too long so late in the day. There was the nagging concern the wind may change direction at any time and bring the fire back across the ridge.

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untitled #289 [torrington from bolivia hill, bolivia, new south wales, australia, 2019]

I can't imagine how those who experienced and fought those fires first-hand - and who were personally affected by the loss and devastation they wrought - would have felt looking at this scene. I imagine a wholly different impression to my own. I was in awe - in the true sense of the word - as I looked upon and photographed it from the safety of a parked car.

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untitled #292 [bolivia hill, bolivia, new south wales, australia, 2019]

In December 2020, I started editing a couple of photographs from the collection I took with my D700 at this spot, but life threw in some distractions. Almost exactly two years to the day from when I took them (11 November 2019), I've finally had a chance to edit them and now share a selection with you.

035 the big golden guitar

Day thirty-five of The 100 Day Project for 2021.

I left my sketch until about 23:30 yesterday because I did some catching up on sleep and then worked for about six hours.

So I finished yesterday's drawing a few minutes after midnight today.

Full disclosure: I did correct the lean on this with a slight rotation when cropping in Photoshop. I'm not sure if that was in my photography or in the original drawing.

It didn't fix the general wonkiness of the guitar's neck and other elements, though.

Looking at it as I prepped it for posting, I was reminded of Tom Wait's The piano has been drinking (not me). I was sober when I started drawing, I swear! :)

I sketched this with a 4H pencil. Added shadows using a 6B, a 4B and a 2B. I went over some of the outline with an HB pencil and accentuated other spots with the 4H used heavier.

I wanted to visit Tamworth on previous road trips. But it's so far inland, and many people argue it's not a particularly interesting route.

Simon and I hadn't planned to visit Tamworth on our road trip from Melbourne to Brisbane in November 2019. We'd been planning to take a mostly coastal route with a detour into the Blue Mountains.

The bushfires had other ideas.

So I finally, after 42 years, with all but about 11 of them living in Australia, made it to Tamworth.

To be honest, we didn't see that much of the city as we were conscious we had a way to go to beat the bushfires to get to my uncle's place the next day.

As it was, during the first part of our road trip, the route via the New England Highway had been closed due to bushfires. We just managed to cut through in a period when it had reopened after the fires that devastated areas around Glen Innes and Tenterfield. While the bushfires were conveniently distracted by the enticing landscapes of Port Macquarie, where we had intended to stay in a caravan park cabin.

If the Devil had proposed a deal whereby I could visit Tamworth but, in exchange, large parts of Australia had to burn, that was a deal I would not have struck...

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eclipse theatre

^{[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 26 November 2020].}

It's easy to forget how much Art Deco architecture still remains in Australia.

There are so many high profile examples of it in major cities, and I'd seen examples in New South Wales towns like Bellingen when on a road trip with a friend in 2010.

But, even then, I kind of forgot. Even though it's one of my favourite architectural styles.

So when Simon and I were on our road trip from Melbourne to Brisbane just over a year ago, it took me a bit by surprise.

From Fish Creek and Yarram in Victoria to Oberon and the well-known Hotel Gearin in Katoomba, New South Wales, we saw a lot of beautiful Art Deco buildings in various states of repair.

Unfortunately, with our trip feeling rushed, with the constant stress created by watching bushfire alerts, and with my limited mobility, we didn't spend much time photographing these gems. Definitely not as much as I would usually demand.

The Eclipse Theatre in Deepwater, New South Wales, was a sneaky surprise that caught our eye on the New England Highway. Still impressive despite its dereliction.

And a place we would never have seen if not for the bushfires that raged across the country.

We were supposed to be driving along the coast somewhere between Port Macquarie and Rosebank according to our original itinerary. Instead, as we stopped to check out this beauty, we were inland about 20 minutes' drive south of a raging bushfire.

Our visit varied a lot from our plans, but I'm thankful for the experiences we had. And grateful we chose to go for Mum's birthday (despite what the day held for us) instead of mine and Simon's. Had we held off until April this year we would not have been able to go at all.

dock, dodder and squill

Day fifty-five of The 100 Day Project.

Illustrations:

Frogs by Charles Henry Bennett from The chicken market and other fairy tales

cookout

Day forty-nine of The 100 Day Project.

Illustrations:

Ukobach by Louis Le Breton from Dictionnaire Infernal

alternative portrait at night

Four of my images from the series ‘i’m not here’ are included in issue #93 of F-Stop Magazine, Alternative Portrait.

Belatedly, one of my images was also included in issue #92 of F-Stop Magazine, At Night.

on the road

Four of my images are included in issue #66 of F-Stop Magazine, On the Road.

^{now playing: bob dylan - on the road again}

living on the edge

I realised a few years ago, when standing on the bench in my bedroom to paint the higher sections of the wall, that I'm not specifically afraid of heights. I'm afraid of falling.

Therefore, one metre off the ground I can go into panic mode.

Walking down a spiral staircase I manoeuvred my way up without thought suddenly becomes a job undertaken in a crab-like posture (just ask my ex about such experiences in La Sagrada Familias and Caernarvon Castle).

An attempt to venture onto The Balconies in the Grampians National Park had me experiencing vertigo - feeling as though everything below was moving and whirling, and I had to drop to the ground to feel like I wouldn't fall off the edge.

So I ventured as far as I could with Phil and Aaron at Shady Rest. They walked to and stood at the furthest edge of the property at that point. I had to stop short from nausea. The best I could manage was to photograph them standing there, as though they were waiting for a bus, or an elevator, or something equally innocuous that doesn't involve falling to their death.

It sounds dramatic to say that, but every second day on the stairs in my house I almost over-balance from this fear of falling. I almost did today.

^{now playing: madonna - like a virgin}