Posts Tagged ‘Writing’
The Rakowskis’ House
Before love showed up and ruined everything, the Rakowskis had nineteen dogs and an eight-foot high chain link fence to hold those mutts back. Anyone walked by and they were all jumping up against it, barking and snarling, those steel links threatening to burst, so you feared one day they were going to give and the pack was going to light on whatever soul happened to be standing there, thinking were brave instead of ass backwards brain dead.
I include myself in that number, having lost the tippy end of my little finger when I was nine. Lilly Dollinger dared me to touch one of their noses. He promised me five whole dollars. Dog gulped it down before I knew what happened. He just laughed and never paid me a cent. Said it didn’t count as touching if the touching part got bit off.
Sorrento Sunset
Last of the re-runs! I should be back on board tomorrow!
36 hours of travel, 25 of it in the air and we arrived in Sorrento at last, soft, warm, lyrically beckoning. This might be my favourite photo that I’ve ever taken… and it was taken with an ordinary little point and shoot – no good lenses or filters or focus… in that moment – Sorrento was just that perfect… (Two nights later the Italians won the semi finals of the FIFA World Cup and it was madness and mayhem in an equal measure to the peace of this sunset.)
Love letters from home
This divinely gorgeous model is an Uzbeki belly dancer who studied in Egypt and now lives in Auckland. I have no idea if anyone is sending her love letters, but the look in her eyes is just so far away…
Ljubljana welcoming committee
The train left Venice two hours late, was held up at the Slovenian border for four hours while the remains of the Gestapo tore almost everyone’s baggage apart and questioned us within an inch of our lives. (As it’s now part of the EU, the legendery Slovenian border police have been retired! Yay!)
We arrived in Ljubljana at 11pm in the midst of a lightning storm, had to walk a couple hundred metres in the downpour to reach the station. We had no booking, but the station agent found us a room at the 2 star Park Hotel. It would even get worse before it got better.
And yet… I fell in love with the place and would recommend it to anyone who’d like to venture off the standard European holiday… a millenia of history you can touch and taste, charming architecture in the vibrant old town, renovations and restorations, lingering remnants of the soviet era and possibly the nicest, warmest people in the world. And of course – the dragon.
Garden Variety Drama
They were the perfect couple – made for each other until Sylvia took us all by surprise and climbed that tree, leaving poor Roger pleading at her feet.
Waiting room blues
The waiting room is the most dangerous place in the world. You have no power. You cannot effect change. You have no voice and no choice. Except to leave – which we generally don’t do, because we are waiting for something or someone to come or go. Either way, we eventually run out of time.
The perils of Chloe
And there I was once again – perched with my camera – capturing the moment!
Up a tree
The unadorned version of the winning photo – well, except for the frame – photos always look their best with a frame, I think.
I do realise it’s tooting my own horn, but winning the prize for creativity in a photo competition was really exactly what I needed – one month into being in business as a pro photographer. Sort of like the universe giving me the nod to say I’d got it right…
http://www.theaucklander.co.nz/galleries/the-aucklanderywca-photo-competition-winners/98/#153803
Frosty morning by the river
Wandering along the banks of the Hawea River, on the south island of New Zeland on a foggy winter morning. I always seem to hold my breath in the fog. Not sure why, but I have a sensation that it is somehow ‘alive…’ and I don’t want to consume it – or… I don’t want it to consume me???
Jewels of the South Pacific
