On Valentines Day I went with Nick and rebecca to the pillow fight down by the Ferry Terminal which was awesome - especially if you're stuck on the other side of the pond with nary a buxom wench to frolic with.
What struck me - apart from a goose down pillow upside the head of course - was that there seemed to be at least as many people taking photos as there were getting stuck in. I mean, and here I use the vernacular, WTF? Who wants to sit on the sidelines? What's the point in obsessively documenting instead of experiencing?
Since then I've been meaning to do this.
I'm thinking of doing tshirts.
It also reminded me (in a tangential way - there's been quite a bit of Laphroaig in my life this evening including a dram from a £300 bottle of, as yet unreleased, 27 yr old) of when I was travelling round Australia way back. This was before Digital Cameras got big and I had a Olympus Mu or something. Which broke. So I bought this crappy thing which took awful photos and had a tendency to make everything slightly pinkish.
Not only that - I'm a shit photographer. I just don't have the eye or the patience. It's ok, I'll cope.
In Cairns I went to
Peter Lik's Gallery and bought one of his books. I printed out all the emails I'd sent home and put them in the pages which had photos of what I was talking about at the time and gave the book to my parents when I eventually got home. Why? Because my photos, whilst they may have been taken by me, didn't capture what i was feeling at the time or how those places
really looked because, well, he's a professional with professional equipment and a professional eye who can sit in one spot for a day waiting for the light to be juuuuust right and
then take the photo. Or take 30 of them and choose the best one. In my opinion he captured what it was like for me to be there better than I could have and so I could get on with experiencing it instead.
Works for me.