We’ve changed our web hosting, which resulted in the blog going tits up last weekend, and me losing about a weeks worth of posts. Luckily I still had a browser window open on my laptop, and was able to capture the text from the last few posts, and I put them back up last night.
Mark has also started a blog, which means that he has taken a more active interest in blogging technology, and hopefully soon I’ll be able to blog via email, and maybe even from my phone.
I have bought a new laptop. The old one was starting to get very slow, and was below the minimum hardware requirements for running Aperture, which is something that I really want to learn how to use. Photography may never earn me a cent, but if I have to keep working at a not very fulfilling job, then I want to be able to spend my leisure time productively, and get some gratification from creating beautiful things. Beautiful to me, anyway.
My Grandfather, George, was a photographer, and he also taught photography. And he was highly critical. I did photography in high school – and I took one photograph that George thought was OK. One. I didn’t feel encouraged to continue with it, and when my camera was stolen in the late eighties, I never replaced it with a decent camera – disposables were good enough for nearly two decades.
Slowly I have started to get into the habit of photographing the things that I love, and I hope, my photographs are imbued with a little bit of my love for my subjects. I am not technically trained, but I have spent most of my working life around film (cinema) cameras, and watching very talented cinematographers compose and light for cinema. Still photography is a very different art, yet some of the sensibilities do transfer, and I feel that I have absorbed a certain feeling for light, and hopefully also composition.
George loved me exceedingly well, and I him, but he came from a different generation. I never doubted that he thought the sun shone from me, and I know he would have been pained to know that I let his lack of “approval” hold me back. To be honest, I used that as an excuse – it was my own lack of faith in myself that impeded me. If I had made it clear to him that I wanted to be a photographer, I am sure he would have done everything in his power to help me out – he wouldn’t have given me an easy ride, that wasn’t his style, but he would have been behind me at every turn.
In the photo below, of Mark and I walking “down the aisle”, the photographer captured a moment that was very special to me. On the right hand side of the frame, you can see an arm reaching out to me. That was George. He died six months later.
So now I have a kick arse camera, and a lappy that will keep me out of trouble for a few years, and a very supportive family. All I need to do is take some photographs, and learn how to use all my wonderful new toys 🙂
PS. The laptop is a new black macbook, with 2GB RAM, called Rhubarb.