I started adding watermarks to my pictures last week. It still feels a bit pretentious. As if my pictures are so awesome everybody is trying to steal them, and as if people don’t know how to crop if they would. But on the other hand, it’s also a way of branding a product. Even though I don’t really consider my photographs to be products. Maybe it just feels nice to make something and then put your name on it.
It’s not exactly what you’d call a pretty ship. Actually, it could do with a lick of paint. And it’s not very big or impressive either. Not exclusive, or state of the art. No special history that I know of. And yet Emma and I drove all the way to Fremantle Harbour this weekend to see her, and take some pictures.
As the minute hand on my watch slowly makes another round, more and more people enter through the sliding doors of the Medicare centre. Last time I was here they were still on strike, proof that one can cross the earth, but government bureaucracy will be the same all over.
I’m the fourteenth person to take a seat in the waiting area. Small chairs arranged like the interior of an airplane, in the colour green one normally associates with spinach-baby-vomit. I wouldn’t necessarily say unfitting. Continue reading “Tick-Tock-Crack”
How often have I been complaining about not being able to do anything? I hope not too often, although we all know I probably did. Well, today was time for a little satisfaction. A very glorious victory in my everlasting battle with “lists”. Continue reading “No Citizen”
The days slowly started to drift into a seemingly motionless blur of time. My aversion of lists was not quenched on account of nothing happening. Not a single box got ticked, and my hands were bound in terms of remedying that. On the morning of the 22nd March I woke as usual, by the rising sun burning through the mist, looking for my weary eyes. One missed call by an unknown number from Perth. Not inclined to start the day with more hassles, I decided to take a shower first. Continue reading “A Strange Day Indeed”
If you would walk down towards the treeline from my parent’s front door, you’d stumble upon a shed, obscured from sight by some bushes and trees. In that shed you would find an assortment of chainsaws, bushcutters, wood splitters, and other machinery. If you would look past the small go-kart like mower (with the chunky tires for tackling mud and what not) roughly in between the vintage and the new tractor, you might notice a gray tarp. Continue reading “Open Roads”
My breath forms thin clouds in the cold air. The familiar sting of cold wind on the parts of my face not covered in hair. I’m SO happy with my beard right now. There is this near constant haze of mist clinging to the city, and it’s about -1 degrees outside today, thankfully it’s a little warmer inside.
Lately it feels like every time I turn a corner, expecting to see the home stretch, all I see is another corner. For instance the guy who bought my house, who found out he can’t actually pay for it. Which means I have to keep paying a mortgage for a house I don’t use anymore. And really wanted to get rid of by now.