I looked up and there he was, running back towards us ...
Something about this makes me smile, makes me want to seek out the perfect words to go with it but perhaps there are no words. Perhaps there is just this.
I looked up and there he was, running back towards us ...
Something about this makes me smile, makes me want to seek out the perfect words to go with it but perhaps there are no words. Perhaps there is just this.
I've photographed a few family groups lately and it has been the love that has stood out, more than what they wore, where they were.
It's all about the love.
After I had wandered outside for a while, I stepped inside. Oh my, I could spend weeks in some of those rooms ... walking through the early mornings and out into the evenings but writing, just writing, all day.
They're inspirational rooms but see for yourself. And this, incidentally, is one of the rooms our workshop clients will be staying in ...
Note: I had no tripod this trip and so I made do with a ledge which was limited. I was sherpa enough without carrying a tripod this trip.
Before I committed to photography, I was pursuing a writing career.
I attended writing workshops with New Zealand writers and have this novel I've been carrying since the early 90's. As I develop, move countries, learn new things, so too does my main character. By chance.
Currently she's a war photographer who was in Iraq but who somehow ... happens to have relocated to Genova, Italy. Before that, she was a woman in retreat, living in the mountains of New Zealand, alone with her dog, once again retired from a previously intense life.
There's a book of interviews with New Zealand climbers and mountaineers, almost published, two publishing meetings and an apology but 'they didn't think there was a big reading public for it', despite them liking it a lot. The Everest tragedy happened later and climbing literature became more mainstream however, by then, I had enrolled at university: age 34.
I was heading for Bill Manhire's writing course in Wellington. I ended up in Istanbul.
It makes me laugh to write that. One never knows where life might take them if they allow it to take them ...
Anyway, back in my days of writing I used to drive my first husband crazy. No, that's not why he divorced me. I used to edit and correct as I wrote. I would reach 27,000 words and edit it down to 3,000 words. I was brutal and a perfectionist too.
But it was my editing that made him crazy. As I got closer to the final edit ... on a first chapter (hence I never finished the book), my editing would become minute. I would give him the manuscript to see what he thought of my edit. He would say, 'there's no change!'. Exasperated, I would explain that I had moved two 'the's' and deleted an 'and'. How could he not see the difference that made.
Children, never edit an unfinished manuscript. Write it. Fix it afterwards. Or you will never finish.
The reason I write all of this is because ... there was another photograph of B&B Baur, like the previous one but different. I think the edit isn't so small but perhaps it is tedious to those reading this blog.
This is me and I need to 'see' both of them here, so that I can happen upon them unexpectedly later, and really 'see' them as a stranger.
I flew over to Genova last Friday and immediately, upon arriving ... stories began to unfold.
It was a madly-busy, exquisitely-joyfilled 5-days. And I couldn't reach the back-end of my website for some reason but honestly, I had no spare time.
I stayed with the kindest friends out at Arenzano. And I met their friend, the talented artist Giorgio Bormida. Actually, I wanted to cook dinner for Francesca and Beppe before I left, and ended up cooking for Giorgio too. It was only as I began dinner prep that I thought ... 'What have I done??! Cooking isn't really my best thing'. But they were all very kind.
I caught up with some of my favourite people there in the city but completely missed out on catching up with others. It was lovely to catch up with Stefano, the owner/operator of Righicam, over lunch. And with Francesca and Norma, from Le Gramole.
And then there was that 24 hours spent working with Diana, staying at B&B Baur with her and Micha. It was sublime ... photographs and words to follow in the days to come. I heard my first cuckoo as I sat by the open window in the morning. And the views ...
The kindness of Genovese strangers stunned me and ... well, it made me smile. A lot really. I met a lovely guy at a concert in Palazzo Ducale, who kindly explained all that was happening, to Outi and I. But Outi and I is another whole story.
Meanwhile, here I am, just in from an 11-hour day of traveling. It was a day that involved a train, a taxi, a plane from Genova to Rome, a bus to and from the plane, another plane to Brussels, then a bus and a tram home.
I shall return with photographs downloaded, with a mind rested and ready to tell you some stories.
I'm finally putting together a presentation series of images taken in New Zealand.
We're seeing the Belgian Bloke's parents tomorrow. It's Easter and they were curious to see where that son of theirs spent 5 weeks wandering.
It's easier to work on the photographs now that (perhaps) the last of the snow has fallen. There was a light fall as I headed out into the night last night with my lovely Irish Fiona friend. Irish is mentioned because I have this forever friend always referred to as, since I was 13, my friend Fiona. That would be the New Zealand Fiona.
Anyway, I love this photograph. I took it out on one of those Otago Peninsula roads that we wandered and it's my desktop background for now.