All posts in Photography

Leigh, The Hairless

That’s not entirely true.


I have hair.

But not a whole lot.

Anyway, I decided to take some photos of how I look since a few people were asking and… it might better help my chances of attracting women.


I mean yeah… it probably won’t.

But it might.


The importance of family

I cannot stress how much I value the family I have.

Were it not for the amount of family I have, I would probably be off-the-edge and not at a sane enough level to even have a blog. Some might say that that could only be a good thing, while others (likely to be very few in number) are probably of the feeling that my writings give them that hit off of the insanity mark when reading it so that they don’t need to whack out just for the cause.

Regardless, I cannot stress the importance of family.

It warms my heart when I see those I love, no matter how irritating they can be from time to time. Hey, we can all be irritating, eh?! I know I’m irritating even when I’m sleeping. I imagine I piss the hell out of my subconscious which probably explains why I so rarely get sex dreams.


Between my brother, my mum, my dad, my grandmothers on each side, my grandaunt, my aunts, my cat, and any friend I’ve ever let in close enough to be called family (this means you Dee, Ferdie, Stubbsy and a few more people I can’t think of immediately because I need sleep), I value the importance of family and will defend my family from… well… I don’t know where I was going with this one, but you get the point.

This week, my grandaunt had a birthday. I imagine that it’s a pretty special thing to have a birthday when you’re over eighty. It’s a pretty special thing to have a birthday when you’re five or fifteen or twenty-five or fifty, but there’s a different sort of feeling and expectation I imagine when you’re over the age of eighty.


It’s one of those things where you can look back on your life and see how much you’ve done. You can look back and celebrate with those that have not so much come this far with you, but who you have seen grow from an embryo or an infant to a full grown adult, and when you celebrate with them you see how much each of you values each other because you’re there for each other.

Plus there’s presents.

And as it’s not very easy to find something for our grandaunt, this year she got an electric typewriter.


Teaching someone how to use an electric typewriter can be frustrating, but Michael — my brother — ended up showing her fairly well, even if there were a few bumps and niggles along the way.

I took photos the entire time. I’m not sure why… I imagine I did because it’s what I do. I’m a photographer. That said, some of the resulting images are interesting on their own merit because of how interesting it is seeing the relationship between a grandnephew and the relative learning from one another. And then they’re interesting because of the way the light dances over their faces, the way the shading feels… they have a very nice artistic black & white quality to them… even when they’re in colour.


We ate some dinner and had some cake and we talked and Mike and I basically had typewriter battles where Mike would type something ridiculously silly about me and then I’d read it out in a bad Sean Connery impersonation voice.

Actually, now that I think of it, it wasn’t really a typewriter battle at all. It was more of two brothers behaving like brothers when they’ve found a new toy to play with. In this case, we’d found something that allowed us to be creative in a literal sense, even if the toy wasn’t ours.


Mum’s not really angry or depressed or anything in that photo above. She’s tired. I can relate, actually, with it being 6.15 in the morning and me needing to go to bed.

That afternoon, my brother and my Mum were both tired, and after taking some family pictures, it was time to say goodbye.

I’d originally brought the camera with so I could take pictures of my family. I felt that — before I left — it would be a good thing to do. It would be nice to just have some good pictures of our family… of my family… where they were just being themselves and not posing for the camera.

When you pose for the camera, you lose the intimacy and you lose the true nature of the individual you photograph… and that’s a shame… especially when it’s family.

And the intimacy and true nature of family is something you never want to lose. It’s a part of them that you should always be able to find an image that you plan to look back on in a few years to be able to help you to remember who it was that you took the time to take a photo of.


Too tired to make a post

I’ve been post-processing images from the FONAS thingy on December 7th (which for me was “tonight” but for the rest of the world is “last night”) for 4 hours-ish and now I’m getting really tired… I mean, it’s really hitting me now.

So, I won’t bother writing a long post now. I might do that when I get up later on… but who knows.

Regardless… here’s the link to the gallery where the images are from yesterday for those people who I’d told the images would be online at this address in the morning.


Freeze! Put the camera down! Don’t make me shoot you (with bullets)!

Waverley has now become… a dangerous place.

You might see them walking around Bondi Beach with their weapons… they don’t care… they’ve got them out and are proud to show them…

From the short-range tools to the long-range instruments, people are ready to use their weaponry to get the ultimate shot.

And it is that shot that makes a postcard picture.

Why am I speaking like this, saying words that makes it seem like a photographer is a criminal or is someone who might end up being on the wrong side of the law?

Because in Waverley Council, taking pictures is now banned and considered a “hazard to public safety,” according to The Daily Telegraph.

Granted, The Daily Telegraph was asking people to do a survey and were taking pictures of them to go with it. That said, “asking” might have been translated to “harassing” by some people and even “oh my God, get away from me, no really, I don’t care about your stupid fucking newspaper-it’s easily the worst tabloid-newssheet on the planet” by others. I’m not saying that last one would’ve been me, but rather would have been others. Maybe.

However, since this is an article and a blog entry on a stupid idea by Waverley Council, the very area I live in, I’d like to make some points by some stupid people. Please note that while I say these people are stupid, they may not necessarily be stupid and may just in fact make some stupid comments. It is likely that they actually are stupid, and were I to meet them in the street and know who they are, if they happened to utter a line about how right they were in making these comments, I’d still think that they were stupid people. That said, here are some comments that probably fall under the jurisdiction of the word “stupid” in the dictionary:

“Anyone conducting any act on public space is obliged to apply for a permit,” Ms McDonald said. “It’s a policy of Waverley Council as caretakers of public space.” (Waverley Council’s Bondi Junction manager Linda McDonald)

Ms. McDonald, what the hell constitutes an “act”? Can I breathe without a permit? Too harsh maybe?

Okay, can I cry in public without a permit? Can I perform rehearsals in a park for a play I’m in with friends without a permit?- that would be the very definition of an act.

And photography — to you — is an act. Well then, can I take pictures of anything I want without a permit? No? Well seriously, how the fuck are you going to enforce it? No, really… I want to know.

How are you going to stop the millions of tourists that come down to Bondi each year to take pictures? Are you going to walk up to them and say that “Oh, I’m sorry… we can’t have you taking pictures of anything around here, unless you have a permit.”

Oh, and by the way, you can ask them to leave, but you can’t arrest them since it’s not illegal.

So if by chance you happen to tell me, as a photographer (which I am), that I’m not allowed to take pictures and I take a few steps back and start shooting again… how the hell are you going to stop me? You don’t have any legal rights to ask for my film or card, nor do you have any rights to detain my camera or myself. You can always call the police and ask that I wait, but since you don’t enforce the law and only enforce this loose set of stupid rules that only make sense if you happen to be an idiot, I can always say “well, it’s all well and good that you’ve called the police, but since you’re not a member of the police yourself, I don’t have to give a shit” and just bugger off home.

Nice, isn’t it?

Ranger Nikki Taylor said permission was required to take the photos because it was a “safety issue” to stop people in the street.

Wow, Ms. Taylor. Did you have that line spoonfed to you by the same idiots making these rules up?

This issue arose over The Daily Telegraph stopping people in the street for a survey of some sort and taking their pictures.

But what if you take their picture without stopping them, by shooting within the public domain as you’re actually allowed to.

What then, Ms. Taylor? Are you going to stop me taking pictures if I don’t stop them? Permission isn’t required if I’m selling them for artistic purposes or not selling them at all. Commercial enterprises is the only place where I’d need their permission, and I won’t be needing your permission to shoot anyone if I decide to do what I always do and shoot from afar.

Ms McDonald said this policy was the same as “every other Sydney council”.

But councils contacted yesterday had not heard of the extreme policies and lambasted them as an attack on free speech.

Manly Mayor Peter McDonald was stunned by the ranger’s orders. “There’s no way Manly Council would support that,” he said.

“I think that makes Waverley Council look a little silly.”

Sorry Waverley Council… did you think you were intelligent at all in making this decision?

Perhaps it would have been bright to actually… oh I don’t know… think about something before you made that decision so as to stop yourself from look like the idiots that you seem to be indicating to the community that you are.