Obstructed Flow A while ago… I promised to use my Canon EOS 300D a little more. I made this promise because my hamfistedfuckery was breaking cameras, and couldn’t justify spending money on buying and processing film. Well, I have been honouring my promise. It has been a challenging time. Asides from the technical challenge of a funky-meter-vs-lens overexposure issue… I have felt like my photo mojo has been totally lost. Nothing much excited me, nor caught my eye. I no longer leapt to invade someone’s privacy and photograph them in their innocence. Even when I tried to it didn’t work. Windows didn’t even get me ‘going’. And as my window-fan Dawn says: “You can never get tired of a good window”. Don’t get me wrong, I tried many things to reorient myself. Going against my own internal compass, I loaded film into my Fed 1 and forced myself to carry it. For ignoring the cosmos I was punished: I dropped it and it needs to go to Ukraine for repair. Then… something happened. Murakami happened. It had been suggested to me by friends that I would enjoy reading Murakami, but I was always too scared to try. Perhaps I knew what would be in store for me? My persistent prevarication, postulations, pondering and pausing aside, I read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. Read is probably not the word…. Read might not be the word, it’s a little passive. I devoured the book. And in return, it devoured me. I discovered my flow was obstructed, so I am going to do something about it. I have put a battery in my trusty, faithful and beloved OM1 and I’m going rattle through some film, audaciously. I going to consult my photo-oracles and let it flow.

Obstructed Flow

A while ago… I promised to use my Canon EOS 300D a little more. I made this promise because my hamfistedfuckery was breaking cameras, and couldn’t justify spending money on buying and processing film.

Well, I have been honouring my promise. It has been a challenging time. Asides from the technical challenge of a funky-meter-vs-lens overexposure issue… I have felt like my photo mojo has been totally lost.

Nothing much excited me, nor caught my eye. I no longer leapt to invade someone’s privacy and photograph them in their innocence. Even when I tried to it didn’t work.

Windows didn’t even get me ‘going’. And as my window-fan Dawn says: “You can never get tired of a good window”.

Don’t get me wrong, I tried many things to reorient myself. Going against my own internal compass, I loaded film into my Fed 1 and forced myself to carry it. For ignoring the cosmos I was punished: I dropped it and it needs to go to Ukraine for repair.

Then… something happened. Murakami happened. It had been suggested to me by friends that I would enjoy reading Murakami, but I was always too scared to try.

Perhaps I knew what would be in store for me? My persistent prevarication, postulations, pondering and pausing aside, I read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. Read is probably not the word…. Read might not be the word, it’s a little passive. I devoured the book. And in return, it devoured me.

I discovered my flow was obstructed, so I am going to do something about it. I have put a battery in my trusty, faithful and beloved OM1 and I’m going rattle through some film, audaciously. I going to consult my photo-oracles and let it flow.