post come a’knocking

I just received this through the post today! I’ve been waiting for around a week and it came a few days early which was a nice surprise. I wasn’t all that excited about it until i saw how good it looked when it arrived. Its obviously all my photography and the book itself was designed by me.
So i’ve spent my self-designated lunch break today flipping through this short show of my photographic livelihood, drinking sun-brewed black cherry tea and listening to Basil snoring away. Now i feel inspired to keep going. Keep creating. Envisioning the world as i do whether its in colour or black and white. Its really given me a boost.
Recently i’ve been really into my writing which means i’ve yet again been neglecting my blog here, but when the writers block releases its clutches and you can carry on living through your works — you damn well take the bull by the balls and you live/write. I obliged.
Believe me when i say that if you don’t hear from me — thats usually a good thing.

crystal beaches & one hundred pelicans

I can’t begin to describe how amazing it was to be back in Texas for a week.
A well needed holiday for sure. Its been a difficult start to the year with work and the lack there of due to some dick nose giving me the flaccid shaft.
We flew out of Manchester NH, had a layover in Nashville. We were in Tennessee longer than expected. A bird splattered all over the wind screen and so we had to wait for a new plane. Terminology does wonders. We arrived in Houston around 11.00pm having left home around 02.00pm

As i watched the city lights roll  by flourish by flourish in the night on our way through Galveston, i see those memories i lived once upon a time flash in snippets as we drove. Of riding on some moody mare wrongly named “Angel,” drinking with friends in a place that also had a sign reading “Dirt Sold here,” and eating burgers in a black out whilst a woman, wielding half a fried spatular, tells some hick not to miss when he pisses in the dark. The craziest of my stories were born in Texas. And i mean the kind of thing you see in a film like the Big Lebowski or The Hangover. Now i’ve never woken up with a tiger in my hotel room and i don’t hate the Eagles, but i have been in some pretty insane situations since my time in the USA.

Now i was pumped to be back in Texas. By god, pumped like a teenage boy getting his first nudie magazine.
Our first day was spent sizzling in the sun, counting pelicans, socialising with family and wading around in the sea trying not to stand on fish heads. Our second day was about as adventurous as we got.
Back to Huntsville to visit friends, past old Sam Houston and all the old haunts.
We hit whataburger like a tonne of bricks and i wept eating my bacon burger, it was the best thing i’ve eaten in months.
Call me a soppy old boot — i dare you. But you haven’t tasted Texas till you’ve had Whataburger or Jerky from Buc-ees.
…so we got mesquite beef jerky from bucees.

Being in Texas and seeing friends from years ago was amazing, but it was hard. I realised how much i loved having these guys in my life and how they gave me something i’d never had before.
The will to live, laugh and make jokes at Jacks expense. You always come to terms with what you had when its gone.
I can’t stress this enough, but its also part of the growing pains. Learning the value of loving a friend, getting drunk as a skunk on Fridays and laughing at my attempt at ordering water at a Mexican food restaurant. That shit always goes wrong.
From now on i will forever order water with an American accent — to make life easier.
I’m also a little ashamed of the fact that i had two drinks and i was happy as a fat big in shit (not water by the by), but i had my best guys with me. A rare blessing if ever there was one.
Pretty sure the guy waiting on us poured double the alcohol in my second drink after i mentioned that the first didn’t taste like alcohol whatsoever.
So maybe i was a little high on happiness and a little too happy to be drinking with the four most handsomest(?) men in Texas, but i lived a dream that day. A dream that i needed fulfilled after all this time.
Good Old Texas.
Forever winning my heart over and over again.

The rest of the holiday was beaching. Alcohol, meat, partying and beach. Hot sun.
Laughing a lot and trying to get pictures of dolphins, but they really are elusive little bastards.

Ultimately — we had a great time with family and friends.
We want to move back more than ever.
But for now, here are a few shots from the trip.




the secret kept by mountains

“We dont see things as they are, we see them as we are,” and its so true. It was thanksgiving last week and instead of sitting at a table eating semi-dry turkey we packed up our car and drove due North — to the mountains. Some of you may have seen an update on my insta-story. I’m not really one for holidays apart from Christmas and i’m terrible with dates, to me it was just another day. The further north we went the more the winter caved in on us like a light fog. The roads started to bristle with ice and the trees sprinkled flakes as we drove. Winter is my favourite time of year; i love warm sweaters, knitted blankets, cuddling with Basil on the sofa and any excuse to wear my big snow boots — i’ll take it!

It was around lunch time so it had already started to get dark but the lighting was perfect for photography even the evening was on pointe; warm and softening — my favourite light to work with but unfortunately i don’t get out as much as i’d like to take pictures. I’m glad that i did, my excitement for photographic art was renewed and working with my camera was rewarding.
In short it was a perfect day with perfect company.

Sometimes we need small things to remind us why we work so hard everyday, why we do what we need to so we can do the things that make us happy and make every day a little more special. Photographing my drifting and travels is a huge part of my life (though i sometimes try to deny it when i get frustrated), but sadly sometimes i neglect it because its hard to afford consistent upgrading of equipment and i also work too much. At least too much to go out and take pictures as much as i’d like.

We drove the Kangamangus highway. We were told it was beautiful in the fall, but no — its at its most beautiful in the winter. No body else was up there and miles of forest/mountain road a head of us. We stopped wherever we wanted and Basil was able to explore without disturbance.

Deep in the forest of the mountains was a secret kept only by mountains and trolls… a quiet lake lined in trees and hidden under a thick sheet of ice — completely forgotten as all the tourists and geese had travelled to warmer states. There it was in the winter sun with three playing ducks bathing in the only pool of water left unfrozen. Animals nickered, scratched, squeaked and scarpered. And that warm light i told you about started to die.

the secret kept by mountains