When my Olympus first arrived in the mail, I was keen to try out the ART mode filters. And I got addicted to them, very quickly!
One early evening, I convinced My Good Man to ride shotgun with me while I went out in search of interesting subjects to try out the effects on, and discovered this little “shearing house”, which was a very small, rustic shearing shed, which appeared to have formerly been a dwelling.
In the light from the setting sun, it was transformed from a drab, grey building to a quite magical place.
Edit: another photography blogger, whose work I follow with interest, discovered a barn that looks like a house, and I felt it would be good to add a link to that here. It’s in North America, and has a completely different feel to this little shearing house.
This morning My Good Man discovered there was to be a clearing sale held in a nearby(ish) town; and as neither of us felt like doing the things we were supposed to be doing, we drove there to have a look.
Now, while my love for the atmosphere of auctions and clearing sales runs deep since my country childhood, I’ve never registered to bid at one. I’d rather haggle with a seller than bid against others – it’s part of my loathing of competitions, balanced equally with my detestation for losing!
Detail: portable tiny vintage electric Singer sewing machine
Posterised detail: vintage cotton reels
But armed with my Olympus, I was able to capture images of things that I might have longed, however slightly, to possess, but am more than happy to have photos of instead.
Yards of teacups
As a deliverer of satisfaction (and a preventative of outright covetousness), this camera has been one of the best purchases of my life. Now, instead of trying to decide which thing I should acquire, I simply aim my lens at the thing I fancy and capture as many of them as I want, without fear of destitution. Or clutter.
Unlike the people whose possessions were sold off today: they had collected an astounding array of figurines, many of which came – as it was in the Ark – two by two.
Tiny black babies ride, with arms thrown precariously wide open, atop seashell turtles
Pirates, parrots, and Leprechauns – oh my!
Darling doggy bookends
Not to mention, I absolutely adore the Super Macro mode on this thing.
With visitors from South Australia staying this weekend, we decided to take them to nearby Rocklands Reservoir, west of the Grampians.
While Kerry and I walked around with cameras applied to our faces, the blokes hung out beside the water.
I even astonished myself by actually shooting with the Pentax *ist after the juice ran out of the XZ-1’s battery, and enjoyed it more than anticipated – it even captured my shot of the day (top; cropped and a cross-process effect added in Picasa).
We had a lovely, cool but bright afternoon there, and My Good Man even scored a lovely rainbow trout for our supper.
On the weekend My Good Man and I loaded up and drove 5 hours to the city I know best: Adelaide. Adelaide is fairly unremarkable – though Ben Folds sang about it – but it’s easy to get around, has lots of parks and public gardens, and is pretty small. I hoped to take a lot more photos than I did, but sometimes it’s nice to just look around and lay off the shutter button for a while.
The trip took me through suburban streets:
Into suburban homes and yards:
Into various cafes:
(You didn’t expect a photo of a typewriter? Strange…)
Along Jetty Road, Glenelg:
To the shadow-strewn Mount Lofty Botanical Gardens:
Into a parking garage:
And home again four days later, returning the way we came:
When an old friend from school invited me to visit her home today, I didn’t expect her to have planned an outing to take photos on the family farm. So when she told me that there was a 70-year-old bulldozer languishing in the paddock somewhere, I was delighted and touched that she had thought to provide me with a creative opportunity during our visit.
After getting directions from her Father in Law, we headed out in her 4WD on a track that led into the scrub, bouncing through potholes and labouring through sand. I was impressed by her prowess behind the wheel – nothing much seemed to faze her. But despite the directions given, we couldn’t find the machine. Thankfully, bulldozers weren’t the only things that interested me, and I grabbed yet another photo of a windmill through the windscreen .
Finally, we gave up and drove back to the farm in search of Pa, who said he’d take us out there himself. So we squeezed into his ute and retraced our path. Deviating from it sooner than we had the first time, he drove us around a stand of low trees, past a pair of tiny, clean lambs who poked their startled heads out of their nest when we drove too near it, and eventually to where Old Yeller stood.
Pa very obligingly took his place at the helm for a photo, while his dogs tried to figure out a way to get to where he was.
On a completely unrelated topic, I knitted a squid once, and called it “Squiddy”. It was a gift for a little girl who lives far away, and I have no idea if she particularly likes squid; it just seemed like the perfect thing to make at the time.
I had forgotten all about Squiddy, until I read a post by trafalmadorian’s voice titled a squid’s fascination with the ridiculous. Squid are, undoubtedly, one of the funnest creatures on earth that don’t have fur.
My squid can pretend to play the piano, and has pretend
pointy teeth. What could be more fun than that?