Blue Gel

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I’d set up the camera in the kitchen and was going to let it run taking a shot every 2 seconds for the next hour and a half. It was my day off and I wasn’t going to stick around and watch the lads get pounded as the orders begun to stack up. They were a man down in the madhouse and thats just not a party. I knew I’d be out the doors within the next fortnight so I had to get the shots while I could. No-one else besides me knew that at the time. I was shooting little time-lapse farewell gift for myself.

I took the old 5100 to the beach. The sun was nearly set and the light diffused and grey. The walkers and runners and yogis were squeezing it in. If you’ve got a body complex the Gold Coast is not your scene. Every dawn and dusk the Shame parade will be Crossfitting, Bootcamping, Boxercising, Pilatemaking and The Next Thinging from Tally Creek to Miami. They’ll be surfing too. The sea was full of stingers. Nothing bad, I’d been stung earlier in the face and it felt like someone scraping sandpaper across my cheek. Then it itched for a while. Then it was done. Like a jump-scare in a shitty horror film. Startling. Irritating.

The sky darkened as I was popping flashes into a beached stinger and I almost missed the crimson sunset.

When it was too dark I went for a pint in a pub opposite the restaurant. Thousands of lorikeets were chirping madly in the trees nearby. The restaurant was full. The boys were getting hammerfucked for sure. I felt like a prick when I went to pick the camera up not long after.



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Here’s a good tutorial that I used to make this egg-timer thing that does panning time-lapse movies.

Egg-timer motors are pretty cheap. I broke one as I drove off to test it out and had to go back to the store go get another timer but it was the same make so all the bits fit together. I’ll have to stock up on a few.

I can’t tilt it without the engine stopping, the wee plastic cogs just cant take all the extra weight I figure. I doubt I’ll be able to put it anywhere too windy or attach it to anything shaking like a vehicle, but it’ll do the trick when it comes to shooting static landscapes.

Here’s a couple of short clips I shot this afternoon.



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I cannot get going. Sometimes it’s like there’s no fuel in the tank. The crushing claustrophobia bought on by the mess I’ve surrounded myself with.

The possessions and things I’m whittling away. Reducing the noise. The process has stopped. There’s more to go out the door. Oh yes. I just haven found ways to justify them yet.

There’s a broken camera that was a gift. It takes great photos but has a busted wind on mechanism. The shutter goes off as you wind it on randomly. I should gift it to someones as it was given to me. Sentimentality keeps it close.

It’s been hard to be motivated. Its been hard to get out and take photos. To do the things I love the most. It should be easy, but it is not always easy.

There’s so much time wasting. The guilt of wasting it. The self loathing. The talks to myself as I chain smoke and pace the yard at night. Often looking to the sky to remind myself of my place.

I’ve been trying to edit and archive all my photos. It is a process that mostly involves staring blankly at the screen as I click through a representation of the years of my life and the people I’ve shared it with.

It’s life with all the boring bits taken out. And its lovely.