I have a habit of putting things off. I convince myself that certain locations probably aren't worth exploring. This was one of them. I'd seen the outflow to the river a few dozen times and knew that eventually, I would have to actually do the deed.
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There are some who believe that the end of the world may come at any point. Complete infrastructural collapse. Hyperinflation. Deadly pandemics. Major natural disasters. Nuclear annihilation. These people call themselves survivalists. They plan and prepare themselves and their families for the day WTSHTF (when the shit hits the fan, as they term it).
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One lonely evening, I was walking someone else's dogs.
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Are you serious? Fire truck on a stick? Oh fate, why do you make me do such terrible, terrible things? I know there's a psychiatrist out there who can tell me why I'm attracted to conquering tall objects...
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Sometimes it's just the simple things that make us happy.
An evening drive with a friend. Learning something new. Seeing something you've not seen before. A photo that turned out really well despite the odds. Read more
Rooftops. The only reason I get any exercise these days. Although this ten storeys is nothing in comparison to (say) a ball-breaking, leg-aching 74 storey ascent.
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You spend nine hours a day, five days a week here. You eat, drink, socialise, earn your living within these confines. Yet you've never seen much beyond your cubicle.
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A few hundred people sit on their lounges watching a rubbish current affairs programme eating a hurriedly-prepared dinner. Their nineteen eighty-something townhouse dwellings are beginning to show their age and are no longer
de riguer in this suburb that has in fact become stately all around them, leaving them behind.
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I make no apologies here for only taking three lousy shots. After all, there will be a Part Two. But this post serves more as a story and warning than as a photo adventure. To put it succinctly, I did not have a pleasant time; photographs were the last thing on my mind.
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Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.
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The city's surface may be clean-shaven from where you stand. But look just a little deeper into the dermal layers and it doesn't take long to find the microbial contamination that you like to think doesn't exist.
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The Finns would have enjoyed this place more than I did.
Health benefits, optional nudity in segregated rooms (depending on where you're from, of course), jumping into icy lakes... I don't think we did this properly. Read more
Throw together ordinary household items one would find in the pantry, cook (stirring regularly) et voila! You have smoke you can take and release anywhere you like
for visual/theatrical/photographical effect.
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Sometimes in life, change can happen to our very souls. We irreversibly become something new. Sometimes for the worse, sometimes for the better. The Vortex knows neither good nor bad. It just is. It just happens. Indiscriminate to your desires or wishes, your consciousness will be transformed at the will of The Vortex.
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Some places I come across are just so surreal that others have trouble believing in their existence. Believe what you will, this is a real place I came across in my travels. And it smells real bad. Of rubbish.
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Beyond the realms of the city and out somewhere in the countryside, I was told, lie the wrecks of two bomber aircraft from Double-yer Double-yer Two. How could I resist? (I was told wrong, turns out these flew in 'Nam.)
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Dressed as sewer rats, we marched off to the glitz and glam of one of the city's most exclusive residential suburbs. Among million dollar apartments and beautiful street sculptures, we jumped off the riverwalk and landed in the mud. I love this city.
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HDR photography. So this is what's become of me.
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The three of us walked down the cement ramp into the gut of the city. Ducking beneath a security boom and camera, we went to the nearest wall and slid aside the enormous grille vent. Access granted.
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Danny Boyle fans, eat ya heart out. Or, if you're an actual zombie, eat our brains out instead. Because we landed ourselves right in the middle of a real-world zombie horror adventure.
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Many months after the first time I photographed here, I decided it was time to go back and try again.
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Drains were invented in 1972 for photographic purposes. Torches, beanies and rucksacks came shortly after and were used as optional accessories for the well-to-do.
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Every now and then, we learn something or discover something that changes our perspective in a big way. I love this feeling. It's akin to a light being turned on and suddenly being able to see again.
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