I picked up the camera last night and my sister was in it's way. She even let me attack her with hair extensions and makeup - which she does not wear, ever.
There was absolutely no light, other than my bedroom main and a lamp with the shade removed. A lot of the photos were blurry, but this one was one of the few that focused correctly. I corrected the colour balance and desaturated just slightly.
Edit: I thought I would keep playing around in PS, just for something to do. Here is the same photo done over, in a different way.
Because photographers like to torment their models, I made her do stupid things. Well, she did them and I just photographed them.
Antelope, Jazz Hands, Cheeky, Sad, Scared, Surprised/Pron Star, Tiger, What the photographer looks like.
Hubble's 20th anniversary image shows a mountain of dust and gas rising in the Carina Nebula. The top of a three-light-year tall pillar of cool hydrogen is being worn away by the radiation of nearby stars, while stars within the pillar unleash jets of gas that stream from the peaks.
One light-year is just under ten trillion kilometers, or to be exact 9,460,730,472,580.8 kilometers. The most distant space probe, Voyager 1 was about 16 light-hours away from earth this year. It will take about 17,500 years to reach one light-year at it's current speed. That gives you a bit of an idea on how big this is.
Makes you feel fabulously insignificant, doesn't it?
I am not really feeling Masterchef this season. I have not really warmed to any one person, and as I watch I feel like they're cooking straight from cookbook knowledge - there is no passion and no natural ability coming through. I'm not overly passionate about the show as a whole, but it seems to find it's way onto the television most nights and I felt I had to make at least one comment.
I miss taking photos. I haven't picked up my camera in a while and I it's been calling from it's spot on my bookshelf. My brother and I are eyeing off a pair of really expensive lens', and I am considering just jumping in and buying them. I need to get into it more. I feel like I don't have anything to take photos of, but I know I am just being lazy. I really like taking photos of people. I like candid photos better, but it's not as easy as shooting scenery or wildlife.
I like travel photos as well. Taking photos of places I've never been before. I think because I try and find a different perspective. If I've been one place a lot, I tend to fall into a rut and nothing ends up being original.
I am considering bribing some friends (where from, I have no idea!) into a photo session. Some natural shots and some really styled, setup shots. I also like doing hair and makeup, so I am thinking of doing something out there. I also saw an exhibition once in Sydney which I loved, - "Crying Men" by Sam Tayor Wood. I would love to attempt something like that and see where it takes me.
I like taking photos with one particular friend, but we live in different areas of the state and so we tend to get together in his neck of the woods - where we grew up. And we struggle to find somewhere we can take really cracker pictures. I would revel in the day he was in Sydney and he had a spare 24 hours where we could trudge around and take pictures.
Actually, now that I think about that I had a great idea for my next trip up. My dad has this ripper telescope - and I just remember him attaching his little point-and-shoot to it, and taking photos of planets. So maybe I can figure out how to take my camera to the telescope and see what we can get out of it.
I am slightly obsessed with astronomy. Really obsessed actually. I have books and shows and I just devour any information I can find. I have been since I was a kid. So maybe taking photos with the telescope may not be a bad idea.
Religion is such a funny thing. It concept seems simple and so complex all at once. I decided to combine two blog list posts because they made more sense this way, especially when applied to me.
This post started out huge, and it was a rambling mess. But I want to improve my writing, and do this was a good post to try and do that. It’s long and complicated, and I want to explain my reasoning as well as I can.
Growing up, we were not a religious family. My siblings and I are not christened, we did not attend church and we did not recognise religious holidays or traditions. My 'religious education' came from the weekly scripture classes, held in our public school for 2 hours on Tuesday afternoons. My mother, I believe is like me and open to spirituality. She did not reject the idea of it all, but found that mainstream religion was not for us. She was never openly judgemental of it, (in front of us as kids) and really let us make up our own mind.
(Click read more to continue - I didn't want my entire blog page completely taken over by my essay of a post!)
"It is shocking and profoundly regrettable, but, apparently, sales of oranges are falling steadily because people can no longer be bothered to peel them. As soon as I read this, I began buying oranges more frequently and eating them with greater pleasure. Now I peel an orange very slowly, deliberately, voluptuously, above all defiantly, as a riposte to an age that demands war without casualties, public services without taxes, rights without obligations, celebrity without achievement, sex without relationship, running shoes without running, coursework without work and sweet grapes without seeds."
Michael Foley, The Age of Absurdity : Why Modern Life Makes It Hard To Be Happy
I turn 25 in October. Which is almost exactly 4 months away. Holy *expletive* Jesus. Honestly, I had everything mapped out up until now. I have no idea what happens after 25. Where am I supposed to be? Or doing? From here on in, I'm basically running blind. I feel old, and I haven't set any further milestones. Except for kids I think? But that's it. Probably should be doing a goal setting exercise or something.
That's what I can do in my spare time - figure out what the hell I am supposed to be doing.
While you're reading, check out this blog also - I'm liking: http://zenhabits.net/
** Usually I have between 25 - 70 hits a day on my blog, but yesterday I had 1,876 - I assume it's a glitch of some description?? Holy hell, no way that many people jumped on.**
I realised the other day, that now that I am doing my own thing I really do have more time to myself. Sure, I work late nights and bigger deadlines, but when a job finishes, there's usually some time before the next one comes in. I don't really have a social life - the one with big dinner gatherings, shopping trips and getting plastered on the weekends - so it's not like that has really increased since I left full time work. I am finding I can read more and spend more time on things that should be a higher priority - like exercise (*groan*).
Hubby and I have been planning to go snowboarding quite a bit this year - and have just finished buying all of our gear (which is 1000 times better then renting crappy, old and pre-sweated in gear). I highly recommend that if anyone is buying their gear for the first time, that you learn what you need in the way of boots, boards and clothing (sizing, board type and size, waterproof ratings and quality, etc) and then get your butt online and buy it from a country who's snow gear hasn't been marked up by 300% - say the USA or Canada. I wasn't sure about boot size - I have ended up buying two pairs to try out while I'm snowboarding. Total cost? $130.00. Both worn only once and because I know it matters to some, they are branded - Burton.
Anyways. Along with snowboarding we also would like to do a road trip with friends (see previous post) on the cheap, and also go to Cambodia (because again, it's cheap). The reason for the planning is because before now I have never had the capacity to spend time away from work. I was always restricted by annual leave, pressure from management and the feeling that if I took time off at all, I'd be letting down the team. My previous job was a winner - we were allocated 4 weeks annual leave. The company would shut down for 2 1/2 weeks over Christmas, which meant I was left with 1 1/2 weeks leave during the year to use. Then, for two years in a row, the company decided that to ensure no one had leave built up (because technically, it's money owed by the company and is recorded as a debt), they shut down for a week in June. It would have been a great idea if I could plan my life around Christmas and one week in June. But sadly, never the case.
So now I have the authority to take time away. For weeks if I need to or days. Anyways, the funny thing is that yesterday, Hubby was offered a very lucrative position (experience, not money!) for 6 months within the planning side of the company he works for. It's massive. People would be dying to have gotten the opportunity. He's decided to take it up. Which means for 6 months, he's on Monday - Thursday, 6am - 6pm and on call Friday through till Sunday. It's a project management position. Which means he's tied to his job until December. Which means nothing until then.
I don't mind so much - more time to save and plan I guess. Not looking forward to the tired stress he'll have, but otherwise it's good. I just find it hilarious that I get out of that environment (after years of him bragging he didn't have to do it) and he goes straight in. Haha. Will be good experience for him, in more ways than one.
James made the joke yesterday that he may finally get "The Office". Previously, he stares at the show and mutters under his breath, "This is stupid, it doesn't make sense." Oh, yes it will.
I have decided that we need to go on a road trip. When I say 'we', I mean myself and hubby and my best friend and her hubby. And when I say 'road trip', I mean living like a gypsy for 2-3 weeks with only and end destination in mind.
I think the plan would be to find an old camper or van we buy, use and then sell again (unless we decide to keep it for another road trip). We live out of that for the duration, stopping at camping grounds to sleep - wherever we decide to stop.
This idea was thrown around a while ago. But I think it might be nice to get out butts into gear and do something - in the meantime try and make it as cheap and as cost effective as possible.
I would like to make my way up to the Northern Territory. I have never been and I've always heard everyone rave about it.
I know, we sound like we're going on 65, but that's the kind of people we are. Just exploring what we can. And you hear so many people saying that you should see your own backyard before going elsewhere. It might give us an opportunity to answer the question - "so what is there to do in Australia?". We were asked so many times in Hawaii, and we couldn't really answer them, other than the usual beach, Sydney Harbour and Uluru (which mind you are all miles from each other!).
What do you think? Could I get Lonely Planet to sponsor our trip and we'll write it off as a tourist advert for the young folk to come and travel our country? I think I could have a go, trying to get "sponsorship" - have people donate things to us and we'll put their logo on the old beat up van.
We can also document the travels - mostly on video camera. We can show the world that backpackers will NOT get murdered out in the outback. Lucky we won't be heading anywhere near South Australia....
Hmm... let's see how we go.
Caravan Repairer in Geraldton, WA.
I was 15 and he was 16. And he was without a doubt, the coolest person I knew (at the time). We met on a school camp - one of those events where they get a group of students together from different schools and send them away to learn mentoring and how to work as a group.
I was extremely nervous around any member of the opposite sex, so the fact that he noticed me almost made me faint. I must of looked like a blithering idiot - every time he spoke to me, I would freeze and mumble something insanely stupid. He was popular at the time - sort of the class clown who'd dabble in everything not-so-wholesome. He also had a girlfriend.
So we spend a day or two at this camp. We exchange numbers - I assume it's because everyone is exchanging numbers and it's more out of politeness. I didn't dwell (too much).
A couple of days later, he messages me. The following week I spent $60 purely on text messages (remember, this is 2001 - you paid the full .25 cents per message - no special pre-paid offers - out of my own pocket, so thank god I was working). He said he wanted to tell me something. A bit of back and forth banter and he said that he liked me.
I honestly thought it was the biggest setup on the planet. I sat on it for a couple of days. Thought it was impossible. He calls me and I manage to (weakly) press him for details without sounding paranoid.
The messages continue and a week after the first text message he tells me he's broken up with his girlfriend (who, by the way was gorgeous and the nicest girl you could meet). I thank my lucky stars that although I knew her, she doesn't know me. He rings me every night for three days and asks me out. I said yes on the third call.
For a week I went from being completely unknown to having girls approach me in the toilets asking for details - "You and so-and-so? That's so sweet - he's such a good guy." I was congratulated - like I'd won a prize or something. I knew he was well known, and he was genuinely a nice guy but I didn't think anyone would be so into it that they felt the need to tell me.
So, for a few months I spent every second I could at his place. I worked a lot at the time, so it was always around my roster which meant most afternoons were out and so was Friday and Saturday nights. I kept getting all this attention from people I didn't know, and it started to play on my mind. Nothing sinister - I just didn't like the attention. Then one girl I knew, who was a little more 'experienced' when it came to dating, made the comment that 'boys didn't stay with girls who were virgins' and that someone so popular would find someone like me, rather boring.
Then, subconsciously it's began to unravel. I made excuses about having to work and took on more shifts, thinking it was only a matter of time before he figured out I was 'boring' and move on. Problem was, I was head over heels 15-year-old-girl in love with him, so how I was acting was not a reflection of how I felt.
And the day came - he rang me and broke it off. We never saw each other. He could never get in touch with me, and that was the reason why. Talk about devastating. I moped around the house for weeks - Bella Swan style. We bumped into each other at a house party - he was so shocked to see me, and asked why I was out on a Saturday night at some nobody's house when every other Saturday, I couldn't spend time with my boyfriend. A girl tried to cheer me up afterwards, saying he was with someone new a couple of days after we broke up, so he wasn't worth it (which made me feel great - I wasn't even worth moping about after a breakup!)
A couple of years down the track, I met this girl - she recognised my name and asked if I was the same person who dated so-and-so. Yep, that was me. She proceeded to tell me how sad it was we broke up, that he really liked me and was really upset that he could never see me. He didn't get together with anyone else after we broke up, and said she thought we'd be one of those couples to stay together. At the time I was into my second teenage-love-of-my-life relationship, so I wasn't too concerned about the whole thing, but I did note that no matter what age you are you should a) never listen to what anyone else says about your relationship with someone and b) talk to the person you're in a relationship with. But I guess that's the stuff you've got to learn.
Deep, moving water - better known as the ocean. It's not the sharks, jellyfish or sea lice. It's the fact that it's deep, very large and uncontrollable. I am not a strong swimmer and if anything has a strong current I tend to avoid it. I am the person that will panic in a rip, and drown. I hate it. Snorkeling is okay if I am with people, and the water is less than 6-8 metres deep, and I am within a short distance of a shoreline or sand bank. When I see people who cave dive in the ocean, I shudder. Small confined space, under water? My worst nightmare.
The moment(s) that those very close to me die. I am not afraid of death, but there's something in me that brings on panic when I imagine those who I am close to, passing. Namely my parents and my brother and sister, my hubby and my dogs. I think you always tell your friends how you feel about them, but with your family you assume it's a given. How many people say, "they know I loved them" when someone dies? Really? Did you tell them or did you just assume because you saw them all the time? I think also, because it's this feeling that your mum and dad and your brother and sister are always going to be there, in the background. You forget that they're people too, with their own destiny and it has nothing to do with how long you think they should be there.
The above mentioned being hurt or frightened, in any way, shape or form. Extra points if there is someone responsible for it and they did it on purpose. I am not above seeking those out who've hurt those people and making them feel the same fear the inflicted on someone else.
Leeches. Anything that can attach itself to you, and is difficult to remove. Ticks also.