still from my second roll of holga photos.
i've got a 35mm roll in there at the moment that i've been working away at for about a month now. should probably finish it up soonish and see what come out.
all the pictures are on my flickr
Thursday, April 30, 2009
the best is over.
still from my second roll of holga photos.
i've got a 35mm roll in there at the moment that i've been working away at for about a month now. should probably finish it up soonish and see what come out.
all the pictures are on my flickr
Monday, April 27, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Love you long time
Today's photo is from January 2008. Taken at the Shell near Chris's house.
Early experimentation with long-time exposure on my old Kodak EasyShare.
Simpler times.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, November 29, 2007
i like the night sky.
i like the night sky.
there's something beautiful about the infinite possibilities it represents, the way it seems to hold no specific position in space. the sky above you is the same sky as that above russia or america or the antarctic. there are no boundaries up there, no restrictions. yet the freedom it represents is an antithesis to the sheer unattainability of soaring the skies unaided, owning it, being it. so we lay back on fields and rooftops, gazing at clouds and stars and sunsets, yearning to be a part of the remarkable world above us, marvelling at the eternal mystique surrounding what is, essentially, just open space. staring up at the clear night sky seems to connect us to something greater than ourselves; something grabs us and pulls at our minds and souls. there is a strange, fascinating terror in seeing just how small we are, yet simultaneously a kind of peace and contentment.
it is by looking at the night sky that i feel truly alive.
there's something beautiful about the infinite possibilities it represents, the way it seems to hold no specific position in space. the sky above you is the same sky as that above russia or america or the antarctic. there are no boundaries up there, no restrictions. yet the freedom it represents is an antithesis to the sheer unattainability of soaring the skies unaided, owning it, being it. so we lay back on fields and rooftops, gazing at clouds and stars and sunsets, yearning to be a part of the remarkable world above us, marvelling at the eternal mystique surrounding what is, essentially, just open space. staring up at the clear night sky seems to connect us to something greater than ourselves; something grabs us and pulls at our minds and souls. there is a strange, fascinating terror in seeing just how small we are, yet simultaneously a kind of peace and contentment.
it is by looking at the night sky that i feel truly alive.
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