I was curious about it, this expensive, grown up thing. The images it captured were what you could see in front of you. Like the camera had created something. Or it had found something new, in a place or a person, that I hadn’t seen just by looking. I was definitely not allowed to use it. I would’ve broken it.
So flash forward a decade or so I am in Thailand, excited about purchasing my first c
amera. I wanted to document what I was experiencing, to try and capture moments that my memory would no doubt loose without a visual reminder.
My card declined. It declined again. The lady was getting angry. I was getting stressed. So I ran away and got incredibly drunk in my mortified state. I took it as a sign. I would never own a camera. Anyway, a few weeks later in Chiang Mai I used my friend’s credit card and bought my first camera with no drama. The first photo I took was of Hugo (owner of said credit card) smoking an imaginary cigarette outside of a pharmacy.
I have thousands of images from South East Asia and New Zealand. I was learning to use the camera in unfamiliar, visually stimulating places. It was an ideal environment to learn in. Quite literally out of my comfort zone.
I have one image that stands out most from that trip. It is of a train track lined either side by houses. This is, essentially, an alleyway, densely habited with a dual purpose. There is a red stop signal flying above. The track and hosues stretch almost infinitely down this seemingly endless ,multipurpose lane. There are textures, colours and a double life to this street scene that I have never seen before or since. It was taken in Hanoi, Vietnam. I have lived on the Island all of my life. I know it, or rather, I assumed I knew it as well as anyone knows their home. Since exploring photography on the Island I have a greater appreciation for the landscape. It’s all there. It is on a grand, cinematic scale, with the weather creating new landscapes every second right in front of you. For me, this is the most beautiful place in the entire world. But then, I am biased.
I am self-taught. And I am new to the medium. The images I take are instinctively shot – my perspective is of someone who knows their environment, their home, but is discovering beautiful new aspects through a lens. I’ve found a genuine sense of the unknown on my doorstep.
