what's that, darling?

Colour is love. 

I have decided that Friday’s are my lazy caption days.

Friday’s aren’t for pottering about on Tumblr, reading descriptions of photos. So here’s today’s inscription:

“Manual focus and fish aren’t friends. Yet.”

“Up close, personal.”

This, this doesn’t have any particular moment other than I’d just received a parcel in the mail containing one new camera lens I’d been hanging out to try. Enter in the 25mm f1.4 CCTV! It came with two additional macro rings, one of which I’ve used here.

I’ve also realised how much I rely on the fast AF action on my previous lens (the 20mm Panny). Grandpa was most correct; manual focus does make you appreciate the moment you capture a whole lot more.

*sigh. That’s a beautiful mic head if you’d ask me.

“Kid.”

Somewhat bemused by the expression of perplexity, confusion and disbelief. Such complex emotifs displayed on such a young’un.

Though I cannot be entirely sure how much of the above is true, I do recall sitting at Hisense arena waiting for the next match of the Australian Open to start. Feeling anxiously impatient, I too displayed childlike emotions as I had just run out of food. Timing.

Oh well, you can never be bored with a camera in hand, non?

“Sunny”

I miss this. Warmth in its entirety, natural. Not some electric or gas generated appliance, aching to win my approval during these cold, dark nights. 

As I look up to this tree now, it has barely any foliage; the remaining leaves are certainly not a dazzling green but a matured shade of orange. Ah Spring, oh Summer, I await your return eagerly.

And Winter’s barely begun.

“Crisp”

As some of you may recall, earlier this month I participated in “Live Below the Line” whereby I lived off $2 a day for roughly one week. In my pursuit to find the absolute maximization of my confined dollars, I visited Queen Vic markets. My eyes started to dance as I spotted signs sporting drop dead prices. One particular stall caught me off guard - I was not prepared to haul kilos of potatoes and mandarins home simply because they were going for 50c/kilo. Oh, but that’s exactly what I did.

Moments after I’d secured my loot, I did one last glance over at all the stall had to offer. As I stooped lower to catch a better view of the signs (most of the produce are in large crates - large in width, not so much in height), bursts of colour invaded my peripheral in the form of the skin off these 50c/kilo onions. 

Needless to say, it’s lucky I had my camera with me that morning.

“Unstoppable”

Le wild ‘shrooms appear ‘neath an ole tree. What gives?

This supposed everyday occurrence (though they seem to be sprouting a lot more during the wetter months) struck me amused. Perfect little soldiers, determined to grow wherever they so like. I originally overlooked the beauty of it all until someone pointed out to me that they appear in the most random of places. Had the council deliberately monitored surrounding soil as to harvest these? My guess is no, but do enlighten me if you are indeed a council member and this was all part of the ‘Go Green for 2012’ plan. Still, at this particular moment, I failed to see the importance of these mushrooms. 

In a moment of insanity which left as quickly as it sprang to mind, only then did I see the beauty of it all. Perhaps I was jealous that they could do as the pleased, wherever and whenever. Grass in the park, somebody’s front lawn, iron grid beneath council trees. There was no hidden agenda, there was no real purpose. 

And yet they stood. They were simply being. And then I took my lens cap off and the rest is history the above. 

“Focus”

I’ve decided to expand on my photo descriptions from a mere line to several lines about how the moment came about before I decided to point the lens, focus and click the shutter button.

So here goes.

The photo posted directly before this one was from an unforgettable dinner with the family. On the way to this dinner, we stopped for petrol. I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve spent time together as a family at gas stations - and I mean this in the most sentimental way possible. Long distance drives to holiday destinations, to snow mountains, downtown, to school …..the list goes on. Nonetheless, on this particular occasion I was reminded of the nights we’d stop for petrol; I would hazily awaken from napping, peer out the window through groggy eyes and admire the lights. Perhaps from the lack of glasses (I’ve been short-sighted ever since the 2nd grade), the lights danced as they glowed about on the street.

Few years on, family dinners even fewer. Some might look at this shot and wonder why nothing is in focus,  technically. 

My memory is in focus and this moment was, is beautiful.