A mighty sapling: sound and image

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As we headed across the open country near Braidwood on Saturday afternoon we drove into a huge storm. Blacks clouds licked the horizon and lightning struck the ground. By the time we descended the escarpment into the Araluen Valley we were in the midst of a deluge. Melody kept on driving her Ford truck, towing the camper trailer across rising streams and fords, down the dirt road running alongside the Deua River.

When we reached Bakers Flat we quickly set up the camper trailer, and got ready to endure a long night of inclement weather.

For nearly 8 hours the thunder did not stop. In a slight break when it was raining lightly, Melody suggested we go out and take some photos.

I set up Chamonix in the tent with an Apo-Sironar-S 150mm lens, grabbed a Grafmatic film holder loaded with Shanghai 100, put a plastic cover over my equipment…

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Bingie Bingie Point

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Not far from Moruya on the south coast of New South Wales, Bingie Bingie Point juts like a finger into the Tasman Sea.

It is a remarkable place that was inhabited by the Brinja-Yuin people before European settlement. It is a place of plenty, and the word “bingie” in Dhurga, the traditional language of the first peoples of the coast means “stomach”, and thus bingie bingie, abundance.

The geology of this point is special, as between the two types of grey igneous rocks which cooled far below the earth’s surface, there are intrusions into cracks when the granite cooled by later eruption forming dykes of pink aplite and black basalt. Elsewhere, on the southern side of the point white intrusions into the granite have the appearance of a web.

Along this coastline there are dreaming tracks, song lines, used by its earliest peoples. It is not hard to wonder at…

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Before the precipice

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The Kangaroo River begins on a narrow isthmus of the Illawarra escarpment before it plunges hundreds of feet over Carrington Falls into Kangaroo Valley.

On an overcast Saturday on the coast, nothing seems more perfect than being in the mist and rain on the escarpment, where streams pass through still rainforests, before rushing towards the roar of cascades and vertiginous falls.

Walking in the cool waters before the precipice, soothes my feet and aching heart.

Dark waters Dark waters

Quiet pool with blossoms Quiet pool with blossoms

Cascade and mist Cascade and mist

Towards the precipice Towards the precipice

Taken in Budderoo National Park using Chamonix 045F1 View Camera with Rodenstock Apo-Sironar-S 150mm lens, on Kodak TMax 100 and developed in a mix of Xtol(1.2) and Adonal(1.200).

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Perchance, is art worth more than the truth?

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Yesterday afternoon, my partner Melody and I had a long and interesting discussion reflecting upon aesthetics, sexuality, art and the artist.

Our conversation was in response to a post we had noticed elsewhere on the inter-webs in relation to nude photography. The discussion was characterised by a division of the subject into nude vs naked, and a proposition that works by famous artists, for example Weston, Man Ray, Mapplethorpe, or Imogen Cunningham have stood the test of time and are beyond criticism. On the other hand much nudity seen elsewhere on photo sharing sites was regarded in the post as sexualised, trashy, and just not really art.

Sublimation Sublimation

One commentator maintained “I love photographing the nude but it has nothing to do with sexuality – everything to do with line and shape and the light. … Actually it’s another landscape and a lot harder than one expects.”

Melody on…

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