emerging from darkness

Another year has passed. And what have we learned?

2016 was a better year for me personally than 2015 (that wouldn't have been hard), but it didn't always feel like a good year for the world in general.

I wrote in my last post (I know, a year between posts is ridiculous... sorry!) that 2015 was my year of living uncertainly. So many things were hanging in the balance during 2015, and the general feel of the year was quite negative. This year had a more positive feel, though it still felt a little like treading water at times.

Moving forward felt slow last year, as so many moving parts were dependent upon each other. This year brought various chapters to a close.

In May, I moved for the third time in three years. For ten months after our break-up, Kyle and I had remained roommates. When we moved, I finally had my own space again, albeit with Kyle now filling the role of housemate. Many friends expressed concerns about this decision. For now it is working, as we (mostly) know about and can deal with each others’ quirks, and for the most part we live completely separate lives. Sometimes it almost feels like living alone, which is a good thing for me.

In August I was effectively made redundant from my day job, though that specific word was never used. The decision was quite out of the blue but I was happy enough to move on as I felt ready for the next opportunity. During my last week, The Sundays’ lyrics, ‘it’s the little souvenir of a terrible year’, were my recurring earworm. It felt like the last remnants of 2015 falling away. Like shedding the last layers of the chrysalis so I could finally see my way clear. It felt like closure.

In the meantime, my dSLR didn’t get a heavy workout in 2016, but there were ample opportunities for me to point it at myself and at other subjects.

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untitled #202 [media city uk, salford quays, greater manchester, england, 2016]

In April I finally had the chance to catch up with Aer after close to ten years, visiting her in Manchester. It didn’t turn out to be the best timing for her due to unexpected work and family complications, but we had a good catch-up.

Aer encouraged me to shoot in her three-storey house while she went off to work. This included the cold, creepy basement where I took the self-portrait above. I think it was the only ‘proper’ self-portrait shoot I did during 2016.

I think it was my first visit to Manchester since 2000. My stay also gave me a chance to revisit the city, wandering its streets and the John Rylands Library with my camera.

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untitled #83 [dungeness, kent, england, 2016]

In June I finally made good on a long-postponed trip to Kent and East Sussex with Phil Ivens, with Kyle tagging along. At least once a year Phil stays at a B&B in East Sussex, using that as a base to visit Dungeness and other places in the area. For at least five summers I had been hoping to visit, but timing and money always seemed to be an issue.

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untitled #165 [prospect cottage, dungeness, kent, england, 2016]

This year I committed to the break. I enjoyed tramping over the shingle to explore the derelict boats and fishermen’s shacks, despite the horrendous sunburn I got in the process. It was also nice to finally visit Derek Jarman’s Prospect Cottage. The only real dampener to the holiday was finding out the results of the Brexit referendum on our second last day.

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untitled #116 [margate beach, margate, kent, england, 2016]

Other travels during the year included:

• a day trip to Camberley to visit my friend, Floriana, though I didn’t take any photos;
• a day trip to Oxford with Stuart;
• an overnight visit to Birmingham for a night out with the girls, though I only took photos with my iPhone; and
• a day trip to Margate, Botany Bay and Broadstairs in Kent with Chris and Paulina.

I posted various iPhone photos from the day trips to Oxford and Kent, and my weeks in Manchester and East Sussex and Kent, to my Instagram account. I hope to post more photos from those travels here later this year. Thank you to all those who made my travels possible and wandered with me this year.

When not traipsing around the country, I made a point of capturing familiar haunts and new locales in this city I love, even if only with my iPhone. You can find many of these images on my Instagram account as well. 

This year I continued my collaboration, weaving words into light, with the ever-patient Sarah Mercer. We only managed two pairings in 2016, but hopefully 2017 will bring more.

I also licensed a selection of my images to a television series that ran a couple of months ago on ITV. I'm not sure how many images, if any, actually made it onto the screen as set dressing. I'll let you know if they did once I've had a chance to watch the series!

In October my Mum had a health scare and it was hard to be so far away from family during that time. Thankfully open-heart surgery seems to have resolved the issue. I’m looking forward to catching up with her and Dad in June/July 2017 when they visit the UK and Ireland.

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untitled #5 [hornsey gas holders, hornsey, london, england, 2016]

Unfortunately it was curtains for my favourite neighbourhood gasometer, Hornsey Gas Holder No. 1, which was finally dismantled in August. Above-ground work started in earnest as I was finishing up at my job, so I was able to capture workers dismantling it section by section. Hornsey Gas Holder No. 3 appears to have survived 2016, but I don’t believe it will still be in place by this time next year. I’ve since redirected my obsession toward other gasometers around town. Most recently those at Gas Holder Park along the Regent Canal in King’s Cross; and the listed gas holders by The Oval cricket ground in Kennington.

Other lowlights of the year included:

• regaining the rest of the weight I’d lost in 2010-2012 plus some;
• having far less alcohol-free days than I’d intended; and
• watching BBC coverage of the US presidential election into the wee hours of the morning.

At least I can reverse the first, and improve on the second in 2017. Unfortunately there isn’t much I can do to change the third. I’m more than a little trepidatious about how 2017 will unfold due to the outcome of that election and the Brexit referendum.

But there were quite a few highlights.

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For instance, I love my new home. My blue-walled bedroom is my sanctuary. It has a quaint white mantelpiece, space for a king size bed and my workstation, and more than enough room to swing a cat (if you’re into that sort of thing). There's a proper lounge room with comfy couches and Netflix, and my prints hanging on the walls. I’m also more than a little pleased with the blue-tiled bathroom. No doubt others would call it kitsch, but I love it. Here’s hoping this stays my home for a few years.

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I wrote more this year. I got into the habit of writing 750 words most days in the latter part of the year, albeit usually journal-type prose as a form of mental clearing. It's a habit I need to get back into from tomorrow. I also managed to write over 12,000 words for NaNoWriMo. Though I didn’t complete the 50,000 word challenge in November, I will come back to my novel soon.

I visited a number of museums and galleries, and went to see quite a few films at the cinema.

Friends have been good to me again this year, even though I’m notorious for hiding away in my ‘bubble’, valuing my alone time.

So, all in all, 2016 didn’t completely suck for me, though it wasn’t my best year on record.

There were plenty of sad things happening in the world around me. This includes the deaths of musicians, writers and actors I’d grown up with and enjoyed the work of. This year felt particularly bad on that score, as many have pointed out. But I guess I have to brace myself for the possibility every coming year will strike a blow as hard as this one. It's just a fact that many of my favourites are getting to that age.

Speaking of age, 2017 marks another milestone birthday for me, which feels more than a little surreal. I had a brief glimmer of hope that I might visit Australia for a few weeks in April to mark the occasion. Unfortunately it’s looking unlikely given my current finances. I’m hoping to apply for British citizenship sometime in the coming year. I will also need to buy a new computer soon as, to quote Apple support, my laptop is ‘vintage’ now. It's definitely showing its age. So it’s looking like Melbourne and Tasmania will have to wait until 2018.

2017 is also a sort of anniversary year for me. It will mark ten years in April since I started my 365 days project. And ten years in August since my debut solo exhibition, alternate worlds.

In some ways I feel I’ve gone backward with my photography since then, but sometimes other things have to come first. My intention for 2017 is to regain the focus and energy I had in 2007 and 2008. To get back to the things I love about photography.

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I’m feeling positive about 2017. It feels like a reawakening, and well past time to get back in the saddle. My long-time new year’s resolution comes back around: make this year count.

If you’re reading this, I hope your 2017 is all you hope for, and thanks for stopping by.

^{now playing: sia - bird set free}

the year of living uncertainly

So, once again, it's that time: the closing of one year, the eve of the beginning of another.

And, to be honest, it couldn't come soon enough. For me, 2015 was most certainly 'the year of living uncertainly'.

Though there were options for me to continue my day job where I was at the end of 2014, I felt it was time for the next adventure, and really needed some time out to not only work out exactly what that would be, but to breathe, as the last year of that job really took its toll on me.

In the end, despite not really being able to afford it, I took about two months out from employment, during which time I tried to give myself space to just be for a bit, as well as looking at jobs, and working on photos.

After probably the longest interview process I'd ever undergone, and ultimately three and a half months of being unemployed, I landed a permanent job. I think only my third ever. So things were looking up...

Then 2015 turned into a bit of a shit storm:

• Myriad stresses over Kyle's visa application to stay with me in the UK as my unmarried partner when his youth mobility visa ran out;
• Kyle and I subsequently ending up breaking up after all of that stress (not just because of the visa stress);
• 'Teething problems' at work;
• Not knowing if I'd have to find a new place to live on top of all that;
• A medical condition that's been quite quiet the past five years or more came back with a vengeance in the last month, a timely reminder that I need to look after myself better; and simultaneously
• The stress of applying for indefinite leave to remain in the UK, after being here for the past five years.

In the midst of all that, Kyle was having his own year of uncertainty, trying to decide whether to try to stay in the UK or go back to Australia. Then once the decision was made, going through his own 'dance' with his employer and the immigration authorities, resulting in him taking a much-needed break in Australia for Christmas and New Year's Eve in order to obtain a visa to return to the UK with sponsorship from his employer.

There were some good things in 2015, I know there were, but it's kind of hard to think of them through all of the other stuff this year. These good things kept me going: good friends, new friends, and my photography (though I didn't take or edit anywhere near enough photos this year for my liking).

And I made it to the end of the year to finish on a high note, being granted indefinite leave to remain in the UK on 29 December. So I can feel, once again, that I'm home.

Hopefully 2016 will prove to be less tumultuous than 2015, and even 2014 (when we moved home twice), though a potential move is still on the horizon for the new year.

Despite all of the above, I'm feeling positive for the new year, just a little exhausted. I promise my next update will be more upbeat and focussed on my photography, not feeling sorry for myself. It will be a new year, after all.

I'm also pleased to finally (officially) unveil the new version of my website. It does look awfully like the old version, but you should find it much easier to navigate, and you'll find my work at lusciously large sizes when you click on images to view them in 'lightbox' mode.

I'm still bringing across older blog posts, as unfortunately I'm unable to do that automagically from my old host (and will also, unfortunately, not be able to bring across your lovely comments), but otherwise the site is ready.

I haven't set up my store yet, so if there's anything particular you'd like to see available, please do let me know.

So, rather than an obligatory self-portrait, I close 2015 with an image of my beloved Hornsey gas holders, the one constant for me in 2015, and something of an obsession (if you follow me on Instagram you'll know what I mean). They have also experienced a year of uncertainty, as they were scheduled to be dismantled in summer, but as with all development plans, things have (thankfully) been running behind, allowing me more time to savour them and photograph them. Unfortunately their time is fast running out though, as 'demolition in progress' signs went up early in December, the land around is being cleared, and I fear it will be less than a month before they disappear from my local skyline.

So long, 2015. Don't let the door hit your arse on the way out...

^{now playing: florence + the machine - ship to wreck}

in my secret life

This update comes a little late, given we posted at the start of December, but the current weaving words into light collaboration between Sarah Mercer and myself, was inspired by Leonard Cohen's song, 'In My Secret Life'.

With the arrival of the new year, I'm determined to make a stronger effort to post updates to my blog, whether in the form of new work I'm creating, or older images I've managed to now work through and edit.

I managed to edit quite a lot of older work during the past year or so, but very little of it made it onto my blog, or even onto my website, so I hope to rectify that this year. Many of the posts will be image posts, but maybe I'll even manage some words here and there.

2013 was a good year for the most part, though for much of it I felt like I was in a holding pattern:

I made a conscious effort to minimise my shooting and concentrate on the mammoth backlog of images stored on my hard drives that had not been seen by anyone but myself. I managed to complete editing of thousands of photographs taken during a road trip in 2009, another road trip in 2010, and the majority of photographs taken during my residency at Hospitalfield in 2011. The bulk of posts to come will allow you to see that work.

I'm still working through the self-portraits from my residency and working on creating my interior / exterior book, and I'll keep you updated on the progress of that.

I was pleased to have my work exhibited in London for the first time in October, at the Printspace. That was definitely a highlight for me. I hope it will be only the first of many exhibitions here in the UK.

My partner, Kyle, joined me in London in mid-July, which was a pretty momentous and long-anticipated event, after having been in London for 2.5 years already myself at that point. We are quite excited that in the next week or so we will move into a flat of our own, which will no doubt give a greater opportunity for new shoots. Effectively living in one overcrowded bedroom can tend to stifle one's inspiration.

2014 is definitely feeling like a year of promising beginnings and it is upon my shoulders to ensure I maintain momentum. I am optimistic...

^{now playing: the be good tanyas - only in the past}

the old chapel

I'm generally not one for 'Hallmark' holidays. I can often be heard to 'bah humbug' (or the seasonal equivalent) at Christmas, Easter and Valentine's Day.

Being an atheist, Christmas and Easter don't mean much to me except 8 parts family + 2 parts gifts (Christmas), and 8 parts chocolate + 2 parts hot cross buns (Easter). Similarly, the origins of St Valentine's Day, beyond poetic romanticism, don't capture my heart, as it were.

The fact that I don't 'believe' in St Valentine's Day doesn't mean I'm not a hopeless romantic when I want to be.

This time last year, Kyle and I stayed in a gorgeous little cottage: a converted chapel in Baldersdale, County Durham, I found on the cottages.com website. It has everything going for it apart from an internet connection, though that in itself was probably a good thing most of the time.

Located on a country lane, mostly isolated apart from a few nearby farmhouses that have also been converted into holiday accommodation, it was the perfect location from which to explore not only County Durham, but the Yorkshire Dales and Moors, and York itself; the Lake District; and Scarborough and the northeast coast. Arriving when the snow was still on the ground, it was extremely picturesque.

Totally self-contained, it provided us with the perfect place to return to of an evening after full days of sightseeing, picture-taking, pub lunches (and dinners) and, in some instances, pub quizzes. Being that way inclined, we'd often return from the cold outdoors after a long day to indulge in a game of Monopoly (or three) in the warmth with wine or cider and cheeses, and Guinness and baked goods, respectively.

On St Valentine's Day last year, we explored Rievaulx Abbey, Helmsley Castle (I might have photographed a pigeon carcass, which wasn't particularly romantic to most people's perception!), and Egglestone Abbey at sunset. Our days before and after were filled with picturesque and historic villages, snow, grand homes, abbeys, churches, graveyards, beaches, parsonages, and such-like. A veritable feast for our eyes, cameras and imaginations.

This year, unfortunately, we once more spend this time of year apart. Kyle has just moved house to settle in Brisbane until he finishes his degree and readies himself to head over here. Though I spent a month in Australia with him over Christmas and New Year's, I missed sharing the thrill of snow with him again this year, which he experienced for the first time last year.

However, all going to plan, he will be here to enjoy the snow and St Valentine's Day with me next year. If I knew the exact date, you bet I would be counting down the days.

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untitled #1 [the old chapel, east briscoe, baldersdale, county durham, england, 2012] 

^{I love you, Kyle.}

^{now playing: victoria williams - my funny valentine}

end of a century [almost]

Sometimes the information superhighway isn't so super, even in this day and age. Firstly, because some people still don't use it, so information doesn't always pass across the world instantaneously; and secondly, because sometimes the information crossing that superhighway is not what you want to hear.

I found out yesterday (Sunday) that my Grandma passed away last Tuesday. Her funeral took place at 2:30pm today AEST.

My parents were just arriving into Bucharest on Sunday, and finally had access to internet after not having reasonably priced access to phone or internet since they heard the news from my Uncle, and my Uncle is a Luddite (this is not a criticism, just a statement of fact), thus the delay. My Uncle had tried to call me a number of times, but he doesn't have to make international calls often, and it turns out he was only pressing '0' once before the UK country code 44, so his calls must have been going to someone else's Australian mobile number.

Either way, despite the fact I knew this was coming, it still felt horrible reading those words in the Gmail email preview as I clicked through to read the full message from my parents. It was like a kick in the guts, and after a relatively positive couple of days previous, was even harder to take.

When I left Australia I told my Grandma to look after herself, and that I'd be back for her 100th birthday. That last day I saw her, I knew I'd be emotional, but was totally unprepared for her crying as I hugged her and kissed her on the cheek and said my goodbyes. I was trying not to cry before I left, but as soon as she started I couldn't hold it in any longer.

I remarked to my parents about it, somewhat in shock, because my Dad's family have never been big on emotion. My Grandma, like all of her immediate family including my Dad, generally held her cards close to her chest. I mentioned it to my Uncle last night when we spoke on the phone finally, and he said that she told him about it when he visited the next day, and even she seemed surprised by her own behaviour.

We both knew that day there was a pretty strong chance this would be the last time we would see each other. Neither of us said that, but our tears were pretty clear indication that we knew, though I'm sure we both hoped otherwise.

As with my Mum's mother, I only really got to know Dad's mum better as I got older, over the past few years. With living in different states most of my life, my interactions with Grandma were intermittent and brief. Probably the longest amount of time I spent with her was staying with her and my Uncle in 2002 because I was then living with my parents but they'd gone away for a couple of weeks. Not being able to drive, their then home in the Gold Coast hinterland wasn't as accessible as needed for getting to work, buying groceries, etc., so I stayed with Grandma and Uncle John.

Visiting Grandma about every second week during the time I lived in Brisbane (September 2009 to January 2011), we built up something of a bond, though generally not through conversation or shared interests. It just happened, maybe because there are so many things I have inherited from her - good and bad: stubborn Aries traits; small (especially facial) features; worrying and over-thinking things; a love of crosswords (shared with both Grandmothers).

I also keenly understood her frustration with and rebellion against being placed in a home. It was a necessity - she was no longer able to look after herself, and it was too much for my family to take on, due to a very bad fall - but to go from being fairly independent and active to being in a hospital and then not being able to go back to your own home was something I understood would be very hard. My Uncle did take her to visit, but it must have been so hard for her.

She did end up enjoying the home, despite her initial feelings. The staff there were absolutely wonderful with her, and she quite clearly touched a nerve with them. Despite being of a generation preceding political correctness (I would often cringe at things she said, but knew it was just a generational thing, that she did not hold prejudices), staff of varying ancestry at the home loved her and joked with her. She often displayed a cheekiness with the staff that we as a family rarely saw, and I finally got to see more of that over the past few years.

Also generational, I know many of the things I do (nude self-portraiture), the way I live my life (living with a partner before wedlock, piercing my nose), were concepts she would not have understood / did not understand (she did stop staring at my nose-ring when talking to me after about a week), because her life was so utterly different to mine, but she rarely judged, to my knowledge. Her comments, when she did make them, seemed more concerned than judgmental.

I do regret never asking her about Grandpa and her relationship with him. I would have liked to hear her talk about him, but I suspect she wouldn't have opened up much about that. Unfortunately she burnt a lot of papers and photos at one point, but letters my Uncle passed to my Dad give an impression of their love for each other, and their affectionate joking, with Grandpa referring to Grandma by her sisters' pet name for her, Scraggie Aggie.

I know my wanting her to reach her 100th birthday was utterly selfish, and even though she didn't reach that milestone, I'm still proud of her. Since soon after I left Brisbane she was on oxygen, so was pretty much bedridden, and her quality of life dropped quite substantially. She would make comments to my parents about 'how much longer', quite clearly tired of life, so it was really just time; I would not have wanted her to hang on for the sake of a number, or for me.

For all that I know that, it was still hard to receive that email yesterday, and still very hard today.

The portrait above was taken on my Dad's birthday in 2007, about a year before she had her fall and was put into the home.

^{now playing: aimee mann - one}

i can't stand up for falling down

Last year was not my best year for a number of reasons. Though there were highlights like moving to London, and undertaking a one month residency at Hospitalfield, overall last year I was not at my emotional, mental or artistic best.

Maybe it's because I've been voluntarily unemployed since January 1 [though technically I'm self-employed; and even without that, when opting to temp, when not actually on an assignment you're not technically 'unemployed', you're 'between jobs'], and Kyle's recent visit has definitely played a part, but I'm currently feeling pretty optimistic about the year ahead. 

Aside from my annual new year mantra which I took up a number of years ago now to 'make this one count', I've also resolved to shut out the 'noise' this year, and just get on with it.

By this I mean, think, care and worry less about what others are doing and saying (within both my personal and professional lives), and also know when to shut out my own internal 'noise'.

I let too much peripheral 'stuff' get to me and distract me from the important things last year, and I wasted a lot of time and energy being caught up with all of that. I don't want to waste any more energy on those negative elements this year.

The most important thing to me is to do what I want to do with my photography; do what I enjoy and makes me happy. Focus on what I want, and what I want to do, and block out all the rest.

^{now playing: curtis mayfield - future shock}

fucking tourist

I've been a little absent from the online world the past few weeks, primarily because Kyle arrived for an all-too-brief visit, albeit approximately 25.5 hours later than scheduled, making it even briefer.

A technical hitch delaying his flight from Mackay in Queensland to Brisbane by two hours (originally cited as being due to bad weather) caused him to miss his connecting flight from Brisbane to Singapore; and though eventually Qantas found him a seat on corresponding flights exactly 24 hours later (after feeding him and putting him up in a hotel overnight), by the time he reached Singapore, snowfall in London had impacted on flights landing at Heathrow, causing his British Airways flight to be cancelled, and him to be placed on a Qantas flight another hour later.

Thankfully the brevity of his visit didn't take away from the excitement and enjoyment of having him here with me in London, and getting to show him the sights, as well as a trip up north for a week to explore Yorkshire, Cumbria and County Durham.

Having snowed here on the Friday night, by the time Kyle arrived in the early hours of Monday morning, a lot of it had turned to slush and ice, but having never seen actual snow before, seeing the houses, train tracks, and parks coated in the stuff, Kyle felt it was all a little surreal [not dissimilar from my own experience around Christmas 2000 when I woke to find it had snowed overnight].

He had also been led to believe it would be extremely cold here, being midwinter and coming from midsummer Queensland humidity and heat; but being still fairly mild here at that stage, he was wondering what all the fuss was about.

So after a relaxing pub lunch [the first of countless consumed by us during his time here], he insisted I photograph him barefoot and in a t-shirt at a nearby park, showing him enjoying the mild weather. The original image is below.

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fucking tourist

As luck would have it, the following Thursday night it once more snowed, allowing him to wander out in it with his camera almost as excitedly as I had done the previous Friday night, and for us to take a second shot the next day of him enjoying the 'mild' weather, this time going for full effect with him donning shorts, a 'wifebeater', and armed with a can of Carlsberg.

All he was missing was a barbecue.

After 'basking' in the morning sun, he also decided to do a barefoot lap of honour:

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kyle

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kyle

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kyle

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kyle

^{now playing: jason segel & walter - man or muppet}

hearts and flowers

And here we are. The end of 2011.

It's been a mixture of awesome and awful, so I'm channeling the awesome for 2012 in the hopes that I might discourage the awful.

This year saw me move continents; undertake a fantastic residency at Hospitalfield; participate in some inspirational workshops with Miss Aniela and Lou O'Bedlam, meet some fantastic photographers and non-photographers; and do a bit of traveling within and without the UK to catch up with friends.

There have been some massively overwhelming lows emotionally, but we'll gloss over those and pretend they didn't happen, right?

I have January and most of February 'off' from administration day jobs, so I'm planning on filling that time with trying to get somewhat up to date with editing the overwhelming number of photos I've taken in the last year and beyond.

I'm also hoping to collaborate with some other photographers and artists I admire, both within that time span and within 2012 in general; and hoping that in 2012 I can exhibit both within group and solo exhibitions here in London.

I am looking forward to meeting my parents in Budapest for a few days in May; potentially traveling to Manchester at some point to meet up with photography and authorly folk; and hopefully some day or overnight trips to catch up with friends I made when I lived here last.

In short, I'm feeling pretty inspired and positive about 2012 and what it may hold, and hope that you are too.

Should you feel the urge, please feel free to contact me about commissions, prints, image usage or whatever you think I might be able to do for you, that might be able to keep me from returning to full time admin work; but no matter what happens, I'm feeling very hopeful for the new year.

And one massive shout-out to my beautiful partner, Kyle, who despite being literally on the other side of the planet, manages to keep me sane (or something resembling sane). I'm overwhelmed at the thought of him being in London with me in February!

^{now playing: lamb - hearts and flowers}

the gunpowder plot

I was kind of looking forward to Guy Fawkes' Night and getting out to enjoy some fireworks tonight, but after hearing fireworks and crackers going off almost every night for the past two weeks, the novelty has somewhat worn off.

Between Diwali, Hallowe'en and Guy Fawkes', the fireworks manufacturers are making a killing.

As it turns out, I didn't need to go out to enjoy some quality fireworks. I just stood on my bed and looked out my window and watched them go off on the other side of the church on the other side of the park on the opposite side of my street. They're still going off now. Judging by what I've seen and heard, there were about three fireworks displays just within my local area.

So, rather than go out and freeze my extremities, I settle for posting a photograph from the Edinburgh Military Tattoo in August, and spend my evening working on my website update and photo editing.

In the spirit of tonight's celebrations, here's a clip from Not Only, But Also that always comes to mind when I think of Guy Fawkes. Enjoy!

^{now playing: coldplay - don't panic}

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}