Waiting, waiting, waiting…photography involves a lot of waiting around. For the light, for your subjects to stop sticking their tongues out at your and/or running away, for your battery to charge (whistles nonchalantly), and that indefinable ‘something’ that might make a nice shot in to something really special.
We braved a very twisty and narrow road up to the volcano earlier in the week, weaving our way past all manner of obstacles and tourists vomiting by the side of the road. I think I held my breath for the entire hour it took to get up there, fearing certain collision or vomiting Spuds at every turn. But it was worth the drive as the landscape and views were absolutely extraordinary. There was a lot of geeky science discussion in the car about magma and larva and eruptions and dormancy (from Bertie) and something or other about Star Wars having been shot there (from MrSpud) but I cleverly filtered out most of that stuff so that it became a kind of white noise buzzing in my ear….blah blah blah blah blah.
Instead I busied myself trying to capture some of the magnificent views around me. Waiting, waiting, waiting. It’s really tough trying to photograph anything with the boys about to be honest, since they are liable to run in the road or throw themselves off the mountain if you take half an eye off them. But while MrSpud was wrestling them back in to the car I took a few snaps.
I really like the one above, love the clouds like a ladder, it’s got curves, lines, diagonals, it leads the eye in to that white/red stripey pole. Pity about the road sign on the left, I could PS that out I suppose. It took me a while to work out what those white/red striped poles were for as they appeared quite frequently up the road. They mean ‘Be very careful here. We haven’t got round to putting a crash barrier on this bit of road yet, so don’t be tipping off the road of you’ll be done for. Thank you’. SCARY.
I liked the shot, but felt it was lacking a little something. The road sign was bothering me so I composed it differently to lose the sign. Nah, it’s worse, too much foreground… and a little bit of red/white pole in the shot too although that’s easily taken out if I thought this shot was a keeper.
I was a little bit frustrated at this point as I just wasn’t getting ‘the shot’ and the noise level from the car meant my time was up. Suddenly I heard a vehicle approaching and then I realised what I was missing was a very cool car or motorbike. Surely this is PERFECT car advert territory? I hoped and prayed for something special, something sexy, perhaps a sports car or at least a convertible…I knelt down low to get the angle, switched to burst mode really to fire off multiple shots…said a quick prayer and…..this happened…
Not really what I had in mind. Ah well. Waiting…waiting…waiting…still waiting…
Oh me love this! I saw one of these on Emma Bradshaw’s blog and totally and immediately hearted it. A wee catalogue card with your own list of joy/evil complete with handwritten scribblings. It’s a thing of beauty, right up there with the Grudge Book. Make one for yourself here.
Also, announces by stealth, the Spuds are going on holiday soon. To someplace hot (which ticks off another of that bloody 39 before I’m 40 list which is visibly aging me by the day). It involves a flight in an actual plane, two small boys, 27 suitcases, a lot of swearing, muttering and murderous glances, 45 bottles of wine (outgoing flight only) and MrSpud’s ‘swimming’ which looks like he’s drowning. That poem, ‘Not waving but drowning’? It was written especially for him, even though he wasn’t born when it was published. Our 4 year old can swim better than him.
We don’t have a lot of luck with foreign holidays. Our first one was cancelled as MrSpud was loading the last of the bags in to the car, ready to leave for the airport, having got up at 4am. I noticed green pus pouring from Bertie’s ear (then 6 months old) and that was the end of our Florida jaunt. There are pitiful photos of me, cruelly snapped by our security cameras, sitting on the bottom of the stairs in the house, head in hands and crying. I wasn’t crying because I was missing out on a holiday, but because of all that wasted packing (which had taken weeks) and streeeeeeeesssssssssss.
Two months later we went to Kefalonia in Greece. I got pregnant by mistake. Bertie was 8 months old. The rest is history. We’ve not been abroad since.
So, with trepidation, we are attempting to leave the country in the hope of actually making it to our destination and returning without a surprise stowaway on board.
Watch this space.