Romania Journal

Day 1:

Travelling in a pink purple plane named Wizz Air was a splendid way to begin the journey in the farest east i have been.  I was warned that the airport in Bucharest was small, though three planes for one conveyor belt about the size of a supermarket checkout was busy to say the least.

I was staying with Diana's mother and brother, who are as friendly and welcoming as she is, who as i was soon to find out about most Romanian's, spoke fluent English.  The representation of the area is supposedly badly known in Romania due to gangster music groups, though i didn't find it threatening, in fact, their home was very homey, with wooden decor that would fit in any country lodge.

We wearily from travelling caught the bus into the centre and met some of Diana's friends who i am always surprised to hear brilliant English as if they lived there as i do. I am always surprised due to the lack of language education in British education system.  French class was a joke, mess around, though as i grew older appreciating abroad and the wonder of the french new wave film genre, the language was to become my most desired to learn.  I kind of feel ashamed that English people don't actually know any language from their popular own. I don't know whether its ignorance in our highly looked upon island, or poor education, never-the-less, i'll do my best to learn what i can though the respectful, gender based diction is difficult to say the least.

New words:  Buna - hello  (only to young)   Pa - bye    Muta mest - formal thank you

Day 2:

The Stefanescu's, Elena and I traveled to their country lodge for the day and night.  It gave me chance to view Bucharest from a car as i attempted to take pictures on the way. I found a new technique in timing as the car rushes by and anticipating the shot and to get rid of motion blur was challenging but i think i got some.  At first it reminded me of Prague in architecture and mise-on-scene, though was different in ways i struggled to think of. One thing i did notice was the increase of new business that lined the way. There seemed to be giant industrial flashy buildings and digital displays next to that seemed to be a lot of abandoned premises shell shocked from this event.

The lodge/ house was i would a assume to many, perfect, ideal retreat.  A brand new wooden appeal with rustic style yet modern structure in the middle of a small village, Brebu, surrounded with the beginning and promise of a full array of fruits and old style hay bayals.  It was quiet and as the young might say, too nothing, but to those who want peace they'll find it here.

We walkout out to what can only be described as the Lake district i went to last year. With the same cloudy rainy weather i might add.  What was different, i'm not sure yet there defiantly was.

Some of the food is difficult to recognised, i'm always saying, it tastes like this, but not really. It's a great experience for a food lover like myself.  There seems to be plenty of variety of cheeses and meats yet with a different approach.

I'm not quite sure what type of photography i'm achieving or should aim for.  It would be easy to search out the poverty images with the horse and carts for example, but i could do that in any country.  In fact, the horse and carts that are used here somehow symbolise a majestic journey in time for me which i never experienced yet knew existed in England.  I have a lucky picture where a modern 4x4 is passing a horse and cart which would maybe suggest a country in change and development.  I was told that there were wells at every street corner that were the only source of water only ten years ago, and they still worked which we nostalgically played with.  Ten years seemed to have a big change to everyone having piped water etc yet what influence would this have on people?

We spent the evening eating, drinking and playing with a laser which can only be described as a supersonic starwars lightsaber from Japan.  At night it can point a continuous beam for half a mile, and as we all have SLR camera's, proved very creative with bulb motion photography where you can make patterns with light.

New words: Ce fasci - how are you?   Beana - good   de - of

Day 3:

We left the others and traveled north to Besov, which i couldn't help but notice was as cold as a November England. In fact as the new friends we were to meet there, Mahai (Michael) suggested, was a freak cold weather spell like November! oh well, ten degrees isn;t so bad, i should be used to it, i defiantly brought the weather with me.  Bebov is a quaint old style town that is comparable to Rhodes old town as they both are a settlement surrounded with a castle style wall and cosy houses.

At night we went to a restaurant that is a converted wine seller, so of course i tried a Romanian dish called Bulz, no its not meat balls, it was a combination of goats cheese, corn stuff, egg and bacon, very good, though more developed is my taste of Romanian beers, the strongest of which was Black Silva, 7%, kind of had an effect.

We walked to a famous bar 'For Sale' in Brasov lit by candle light, business cards of all ages and types covering the walls like wallpaper as foreign money clipped to the ceiling as a testament of 'i was here',  a bit more elegant than spray painting it i guess.  There are free bowls of those cartoon nuts that you have to leave on the table creating a big mass then swipe to the floor, i realised this as i walked in, it was like walking on snails so i felt sorry for the nuts.

New words:  Da - yes    Norrock - cheers    Apa - water

Day 4:

Mihai drove further into Bresov, where the famous road is, i can't pernounce it or say it but its that one on topgear that winds through a mountain like spaghetti.  Apparently, as Mihai states, it was made to get a quick getaway from the Russian's in case they invaded back in the times of Communism fallouts.  Mihai and i were born in the same year only one month apart, he's a collector of such things as foreign currency in which he has most notably, 1940's rein-marks with the infamous Nazis Swastika printed in good quality. Now and again in conversation he says, "this reminds me of a joke' where he gives an analogy of a something that had happened to him, usually quite funny actually.

The 'Road' that begins something like transuausu, is a racing cars dream, it has more hairpin corners than any traditional aunt. Though fortunately, it is all up a mountain thousands of feet high so impossible to do any high speeds.  It was sunny at one side, then the other was embedded in clouds and rain, at the top was in a cloud with a eternal view of the road and Romania.

We traveled to Transylvania where the famous 'Dracula' and all the other twilight's, interviews and buffy's originated from.  We had to be careful to get out of there by nightfall, something to do with bloodsucking people coming out at night, although we got there too late in the evening as the castle closes at 6ish, it was still an impressive sight though forestry surrounds most of it so not so easy to see in its entirety.

As my photography is going, well, there are plenty of dogs, that are all well behaved yet wild, and horses that are used traditionally to cart people around.  I also realised today that i'm not in any of the pictures so i'm separating myself into holiday snaps, and what ever else i'm doing professionally.

Transfagarasan - the name of the road...

New words:  Hi - come this way    Buna - good (feminine)    cutz cutz - to call a dog (not actually a word but i seem to remember it)

Day 5:

At 11:30 pm we caught a night train from Bresov to Cluj, where Diana's Grandmother lives.  This is my first night train experience, it first reminded me of one of those period dramas such as Agatha Christie would write about in Murder on the Orient Express etc. It's the only time i've seen them apart from the occasional Bond film where Jaw's comes through the window. The train's decor certainly looked that way with wooden dividers and an old seventies train look.  We had to travel 1st class as it was sold out apart from these, which was a blessing as i'm not sure i could have dealt with less room though apparently three beds would usually take the place of the two we had.  The cost was quite low compared to English travel and i think on the way back to Bucharest, 12hrs trip, it would be a good idea to take this class again.

I was wondering whether i would get to sleep with the swaying and noise, though after travelling all day and week it wasn't so bad.  Before this as i lay musing out the window, that i didn't recognise the stars. Not that i'm a great astronomist, yet i could tell that their were different constellations that i'm used to seeing when i get home late at Barnacle.  It created a realisation that i wasn't at home, not that i didn't know, yet i never thought about this kind of thing.

After waking up every hour on the dot as i always do when i have to get up for something important, 5am soon came around as we arrived at Cluj station. Exiting the station i was suprised to witness it was very busy as if it was daylight rush hour, people were about their business as if it wasn't the middle of the night.  Anyway, we got a taxi to the house and had sleep number two thanks to the hospitality of Grandmar Stefanescu.  I was ready to greet her with my new words, though i couldn't as they are different in the north. Ok, so have to learn more hello's.  Not only are they gender, respectful, they are also local.  At this time of the morning i kept on repeating this new formal hello in my head until i used it, then forgot it by morning.

After the traditional cheese, tomato bread breakfast, and i might add a new addition of a apricot liqueur which didn't taste alcoholic so lucky i didn't drink much of it!  We wondered around Cluj, known as the slow paced town compared to others, with a slightly spaced out feel due to the days before. Though we manged to find another great wine seller style restaurant and a botanical gardens.

Musing throughout the day, i thought about the ethics of photojournalism and the power that it can have.  It was brought about by a BBC news article i wondered onto while checking my email, (i know, i try not to go online at all) It was about a photojournalist who traveled with a charity to Africa, which is what i want to do, though the pictures where very good, i realised they were very stereotypical.  You can guess, a barely clothed woman with deep wrinkles and weary eyes, children running in the desert, babies malnourished etc.  There must be more going on than that, it made me think of how does anyone judge a country by taking pictures of them. Judging is what you are doing when you are selective and captioning to the world. It doesn't seem fair or accurate to do this.  I have the same problem here as i will anywhere.  I have the power to create opinions in people with pictures, either concentrating on the poor, rich, though even if i shared the coverage it still won't capture the reality of the situation.  Possibly as i concluded, it is those moments of life that are most difficult to capture or realise that are the most credible.  A picture has a thousand words yet has few when making prejudices or generalising.  There it maybe, the greatest challenge of a photographer is to capture that projected moment that you cannot understand or look for. Bemusing and probably doesn't make sense as i drink more of the apricot liqueur, try to remember home's constellations, and exit Agatha Christie novels.

New Words:

Servus - hello/ goodbye       Saru'mana - formal hello/goodbye      Bere - beer (essential word)
Belvedere - beautiful view    de ce - why

Day 6: 5/6/2011

Uncle Stefanescu taken us to their past rural village Tauseni, outside of Cluj in a terminal Ford Scorpio, which comes free with extras like carbon-monoxide poisoning, stalling, loose exhaust and all the other Ford falling off traits that actually gave the car a charm and character of its own. In the village, standing high above the diminishing homes and population is an unusual art installation created by another uncle Stefenescu.  It comprises of tall colourful structures of all shapes and sizes and is visible for far away.  As we walked up the top it was clear that it has not been visited for a long time, the pieces were in good condition though the foliage was impreaching all around.  "This is the centre of world today and from now on." is captioned on the centre piece, called Fire-bird.  Like all the streets in Romania, they are related to birds.  We visited some of their family friends who were still there and other neighbours soon gathered that they used to live next to.  It was clear that there was a lot of memories their for everyone as they moved away long ago.  The people of the village lived and worked off their own means of farming, it is believed that only fifty people now live there with a aging population it could be that in a short time, just like the suffocating foilage around the monument, the village will be baron, with only the remrents of past hardworking lives and an abstract monument of their existence.

I see myself as a sponge, not yellow nor living an animated life under the sea, yet absorbing all the words, events and cultural life as much as i can.  I guess this is an attempt to give myself a broader worldly knowledge to take home with me, to know that i understand a bit more of existence, something that cannot be learnt in books or education.  Conversely so far it has me that has added to Romanian life, i remain to have brought the weather with me, a bit sunny, cloudy, raining and chilly evenings.  I'm not sure about this phase of bring weather with me though a villager had said that it hasn't rained here for at least a month until this week.

New words:   Chi - tea     Plucherry - my pleasure       Ursus - king bear (national beer)

Day 7: 6/07/2011

In the side-room of the house, there stands a grand piano.  It was made in 1875 and was brought by the family from a music professor in 1966.  Above the keys "fournisseurs de sa majeste i'empereur d'autriehe' meaning it was made for the Emporor of Austria back at that time.  It is also enscribbed with the brand, 'J M Schroeighofer, Sohne in Wein'' The manufactures were a respected European maker, winning awads all over Europe which are also carved into the body. The company was dissolved in the 1930's as they were Jewish.  The piano is slightly out of tune although still sounds rich as i try to remember how to play.  It sounded more substantial when Grandmother Stefanescu played and sang.  She doesn't know any English, as then they were brought up knowing Hungarian or Russian. We charmingly communicate in the little French we both know, though we both get lost in the mixture of Romanian/French/English.  I found great warmth for her through her uncompromising generosity and glimpses of history, her self-made home with an outside patio that she constructed herself.

We visited a salt mine just outside of Cluj.  I say a mine though it is built more in line with a futuristic space station with glowing neon lights, abstract circular shapes that can be viewed from a God's perspective high above, then visited tenaciously from small narrow steps or a four person lift. I taken the stairs, though getting back up was more or a challenge.  The place reminded me of a 70's film which tried to predict what the future would be like, or possibly were it went wrong as we lived underground.  There were bowling, courts and other areas of living as if some community did dwell there.  Salt lined the walls and were the walls together with ice bonded forever. Apparently there was enough ice there for the earth for 100 years. Though as i don't try to add salt to food, and as we are encouragingly prevented to, it will last probably longer.

On the way back we stopped off at Grandmar Stefanescu's sister's. It could be said that it is an undesirable area were in graffiti English, says 'No job, no money, no problem'" though once inside the buildings every door seems lavish and proper.  The apartment was immaculately tidy and decorated with even a cool blue light from the window.  Again there was food that i didn't recognise yet very much enjoyed.

That night we left for the train-station feeling quite nostalgic to leave her company as i enjoyed her presence in this journey, and one of the most interesting to experience.  It is undecided whether to sell the piano, as it is not much used now, as it was brought for Diana's mother who lives too far to practice.  It's value is unknown though i would assume quite high with its history.

Day 8: 7/7/2011

Arriving at Bucharest at 9am after an highly interrupted sleep, we found the first of summer weather as England's climate must have decided to part with me.  We spent the day meeting various friends in parks, bars and home area.  Again, most know the English language very well even though they have never been there.  Familiar questions involved my new Romanian words though i still needed a translator for them, and what i thought of the country itself.  It's difficult to explain how you find a country, just as i contemplated in doing so with photography. The journey so far has been very satisfying and has lived to my expectations though i remain perplexed how to describe it in simple terms. I do however find it remarkable how only in 1989 did Communism fall, to the most significant bloody rebellion in their history, and how it seems that allowing industry, ideas and people to flow has changes the country direction and new philosophy. I think of the countries in the middle East going through this transition now, and hope it proves as successful for their own cause.

Day 9: 8/7/11

Walking lazily in the summer heat, must have been at least 30, in Bucharest was strangely comforting as i am used to feeling a chill in the first week let alone dealing with English weather. I kind of felt like a city tourist, not a Romanian one as i've seen quite a bit outside the Capital, well enough to justify my statement. You could say that any Capital city is like any other, enormous buildings advertising the usual Coke and Pepsi war.  Though maybe a little more advanced here with full length building with moving screen adverts of the incoming local  Bon Jon Jovi concert right outside the Parliament building.  Just like every other city, there are new lavish buildings next to ones that are about to give way to time and deprivation. The parks are green and pleasant with people riding the free bikes, and general summer activities.  One new difference is that some of the streets have water fans lining the walkways and bars, some rest bite though i'm not sure it makes that much difference, maybe its a gesture of good will.

Meeting people who are finishing or deciding on their future is a common theme of conversation. At this point i'm not anxious about my near future as ok, i've applied for good jobs, though more importantly i'm being pro-active in projects that i feel are worth while for my personal, political, social agenda. Somehow doing projects such as closures of libraries, documenting protests and the ideal of travelling the world doing such things gives myself some justification of existence. A self-worth and pride, artistically cathartic probably. Since i've been in Romania, my mind has been in a state of constant absorption, this has possibly led to my vivid dreams every night of past, present, and never places combined in the mysterious sub-conscious.  I like dreaming, or remembering them. It's like entering a new sphere of existence. They are just as emotive and thought provoking, sometimes more so, revisiting things that has been or wishing things that could.  Maybe its just the cheese...

New words:  Gratis - free

Day 10: 9/7/2011

38 degrees estimated. At night it was 34 as we were going out. I like it as long as i don't have to do much which is fine as we went to the park in the daytime.  There is an outside mueseum of houses that have been collected from all over the coutnry dating back hundreds of years.  The place had many tourists with pro-sumer cameras, i thought it would be easy to use one of the pictures to see if people believed it was Romania today.  I also visited, for the first time, a Hard Rock Cafe, which is full of music memorabelia and good music. The prices were steep and it all seemed very American.  You can't really escape the US/UK cultural imperialism especially in music. Every bar, radio, television constanly pumps out English language music, mostly pop. Bon Jovi is also playing in the centre tomorrow outside Parliment. At night we met with friends and went to the English equivilent of the coliseum.

New words:  fac - doing

Day 11: 10/7/2011

Hang over...

Day 12: 11/7/2011

After spending most of yesterday not really wanting to venture out in the 37 degrees. We did eventually go out that night to meet Mihaela, which was good, as we all walked around the city listening to the Bon Jovi concert lazily chatting as we were all a bit dazed from the night before.  We went for a light drink in Persian style area, where their were shesha under a golden glass roof.  I was trying my best to give the influence of British humour, i'm not sure it worked though i was a beginning to my gift to Romania! My new word for yesterday is one of the best and most important when travelling to new places and meeting new people. Especially when it is suggested to you. Prieten. (friend).

The next day we went to the park to meet Ellie and Alex, who works at the tallest hotel in Bucharest, we later went to the top of the 22nd floor building to view the city all around. Unfortunately the weather decided to take a turn for the worse and went very cloudy and a bit cooler, which was welcome though i hope it doesn't last.  That evening we meet in a coffee house with Paul, a political science student. I was interested to find out about British politics from a different perspective, and it is interesting that his course was all in English, yet not in England.  I found it interesting to discover the history of the Europeon union and Romanian political economny, though i might not have understood it all, it was eye-opening and i know a lot more of how it the whole system works.

Tomorrow morning, very early, we are going to the coast, hopefully the weather will be more accommodating...

Day 13: 12/7/2011


At 5am we went to the train station to travel to Vama Veche (the old boarder) The trains have been recently recommissioned so are very comfortable, air-conditioned and roomy though the problem was that it stopped it seemed like every stop on the way.  To start with it was delayed by over an hour so in total it took about 6 to 7 hours! After this trial of traveling arriving at the coast was sublime.  We went to a quiter part hoping for some better peace with less crowds though the music from the bars blasted out over the beach with no escape. Yet again English language music was dominating.  It is good if you are socialising though sometimes, you just want to enjoy the sounds of the sea and muse in the spector of the Black Sea.  Bulgaria was just down the road and Russia was far across the horizon as we were on the tail part of the fish. If i haven't mentioned already, Romania is the shape of fish. Its easy to see.  I didn't take my SLR and compromised with my old compact cannon, it was a big change, and hoped for the best in image quality, we'll see. We traveled there without anywhere to stay, true packpacker style, though we quickly found somewhere to stay. On the doors of places are numbers to call.  For 50 Lei, (10 pound) for one night was very good and adequote.

Day 14: 13/7/2011

After sleeping not so well on due to the heat, we spent the day on the beach in the swetlering heat. The was nice, though it had a bit of sea weed and just as i was about to dive in there was a group of jelly fish. That kind of put me off so i was happy baking on the sunbeds.

As we were getting ready to leave the clouds came over which was very welcome as any cool weather is when it gets up to 40 degrees.  The journey back to Bucharest took another 6 arduous hours and it was a relief to get off.

"What a beautiful country, what a pity we live in it!" Romanian saying.

Day 15: : 14/7/2011    

Last day.  Well i've finally found myself on the last day of an interesting, educational adventure.  The last few hours were spent sweating in a garden shelter with other friends.  This time a dancer Roxanna, who i've seen on their MTV many times and was deliberating over a new choreography routine she needed for a Lebanon gig. Yet the most distinctive part was her dog, which i should call a bear as it was bigger than me and only half grown!

I didn't want to go yet realised i'd experienced a lot of Romania and have a lot of things to look forward to when i get back, and most importantly, to plan a new journey!

A Relativity of TIme

It is a familiar suggestion that time seems to be going quicker, a week, a month, a year seems to drift into one another with each year surpassing the last.  How often does someone say, "that year went quickly." Maybe, if everyone believes that time is going quicker, we should reorientate ourselves to accept that time goes quick, making time more constant.  If the suggestion is made that for example, that month went quickly, it relates to a possible anxiety of wasted time, or an anxiety of what to do with our current time or possible future.


Scientifically, time is relative, meaning, a proportion of time is subjective to the individual movement in relation to space.  There is no such thing as the present. By the time it takes you to even say the word, your brain makes the electronic connections then transmits it to the appropriate sensor reflector of your body.  Moreover, the transition of light to reach its object, whether it be our eyes, takes a relative amount of time for us to comprehend it.  You should look up at night to appreciate this fact appropriately.  Everything we see in space happened a long time ago. The light viewable takes so long to get here, and is travelling so fast, we are viewing the history of existence.  It takes the Sun 8 minutes for its light to reach us, with a distance of 93 million miles away. It takes 3 seconds for the Moon's light to reach us.  The nearest star after our Sun, it takes light 4.2 years to reach Earth, so you can imagine the time is takes the furthest light to reach us (45 billion years).  Or possible we can't.  How can it be possible for us to understand the complexities of time and space in these proportions when subjectively, at the beginning of this post, I, we, struggle with the short relativity of a month or year?  Further, time is so subjective, the familiar tale that person who is occupied or 'having fun' has a lesser grasp of time which seems to have gone quicker, where as if you where unoccupied, or at work, we are more aware of time as it seems to go slower.  So therefore, two people who are experiencing one of these conditions has a different understanding of time.

Not forgetting to relate this post to photography of course, as this is a photography journal, and with using the same word three times in the same sentence... light is photography.  Whenever you take a picture, whether it be in the darkest of places, without light, there would be no photograph.  Possibly, one of the many wonders when we look at any photograph, is this complexity of light, time and space that we cannot properly understand.  The examples, complexities and variations of time and space differences are far beyond my scientific knowledge and 'time' to go through.  My basic theory, I think, is that time is definitely not fixed, the watch on your wrist measures time inappropriately, it is inadequate in relation to the intrinsic  subjective meaning of existence.  The quality of a photograph is often measured with the quality of light, or the lights effective usage. Light is only a measure of time and meaning, which can be reversed. .Just as we have the ability to change the meaning of our time, camera's can further manipulate the expression with small adjustments, for example, the shutter speed can freeze time, or extend it.


The significance and wonder of time, light, photography and existence are the same.

Future?

It's coming to the time when education finishes, again, signifying the giant leap into the career world where there doesn't actually seem to be any easy choice or successful path.  I realise i have chosen the arts route which is even more discrete in work, i plod on with many other millions no doubt looking for a chance. So it is apt that my final project is based on future perceptions, constructions and fiction. The anxiety amongst my colleagues with tension of deadlines is ever increasing. Knowing what to do after deadlines is even more worrying though there are glimmers of hope. For me, the freelance market seems to be enhanced by word of mouth, and i have several bookings of various tasks to look forward too.  Yet, there seems to be an artistic desire in me that creates a void.

I daydream of being one of those photographers who hangs around beaches taking pictures of surfers all day, then gets published in specialist magazines with great specter of its audience.  Or the great many voyages of creatives whom travel the world in great, desperate, fantastical journeys of physical and psychological states.  Then there is the documentarian that visualises the interesting character in theatre of life, where, for once, the unemployed is in equal fascination to the financially empowered.  One of the stepping stones to finding this success is dedicating myself to perpetually carry my camera at all times, hoping to imprint the cameras eye with my own, attempting to eradicate the feeling of not being a photographer.  To capture all that is hard, beautiful and real. Here are some of my recent candid's.

All these wonderings are grounded by the complexity for why i am actually passionate for photography and the visual arts.  Maybe if i dwell on this more often i will have a better direction though of course the ideal is to make sufficient money from doing the things i love, which creates even more difficult dilemmas of compromise, struggle, with the possible situation where doing the thing i love, adapts into boredom, hardship and banality.  Wouldn't it be great if i quit my job and commitments to become one with medium, to concentrate purely on artistically aesthetic projects.  To action all my glimpses of ideas into tangible realities, where i discover the world and myself and where its becomes an insight that people will invest into.










In reality i needn't quit my job, as i have enough spare time, maybe the reason for the void of desire is based on courage to actually get out there and do it.  Further, the barricades preventing many of us from daring is neither fear of failure or courage yet is swollen by the traditional sin of laziness.

I am certain that my skills with the cameras together with the knowledge of cultural awareness is greatly improved to testify that i am a professional. There are few employment opportunities in photography, filmmaking, documentary and so on, due to the covertly known idea that you have to make your own jobs, which refers previously to the issue of courage and laziness.  Maybe the point of this entry, well possibly the reason for all documentation, is cathartic.

Devon 2010

(Click on an image to make fullscreen)

Travelling to Devon was a annual event for my family, until I reached a certain age where I went other places with other people, or as they say, felt the need to do my own thing.  This time I was driving, not so much a right of passage rather a long haul that wasn't so tiring as expected.

Being in Devon for the first time in many years felt kind of strange, as I walked the same walks throughout my childhood, this time one of the main differences was that as a child, I liked to live in my imagination, this time I was using my imagination for photography I guess.




























It was my Mum's birthday which caused us to venture there and it was nice that my brothers and Leigh-Ann was in company.  Throughout the holiday I seemed tired, even though we rambled a lot, maybe it was due to the amount of work I was doing, yet i never remember being tired as a child, why would I.  The point is my physical functions felt more obviously dampened, whether it be age or temporary exertion.

Holidays have a strange quality of escapism with the background of knowing you have to go back to normality, though maybe differently from others I have a enthusiasm to get back to achieve my ambitions for photography, media production, work etc. Consequently this feeling never lets me sit comfortably for too long, though as the days go on in Devon, this feeling is further placed away in the corner of consciousness.  I would rather try and find faces in cliffs, as my brother first gathered.

For four days, I tried to capture the significant in the seemingly insignificant, attempting not to take the pictures everyone else takes, and shows all around to show what a great place they have been.  One thing I tried to do is capture the people and other things we met along the way.

The success if measured at home, when going through the pictures asking myself questions. For example, are they beautiful, personal or worth adding to my portfolio website. Sometimes they are capture a moment not even noticed when happening, like this one where my eldest brother is committing his own photography as a family walk behind only seeing his arse in the air. I wonder what that picture he took was like, or whether it was worth it.

Taking pictures all the time can be irritating, especially carrying my beast of a camera, though more so to my companions I guess.  I realise it is important to capture a moment, without dwelling on the use of a camera, a photographer should be in the moment and not hinder it or expel the significance for it.

Nerver-the-less, looking back I did seem to take some interesting pictures, mainly of my Mum, Brothers and Leigh-Ann.  Especially my eldest brother, who seemed to have a sub-conscious fascination for the dramatics of walking and postions, where as my other brother liked to imagine he was behind bars.