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I'm not sure what happened then. I got up to have a pee and on my return the screen was blank. Let's hope I don't need a ****. Someone might steal the ipad.
I'm looking for someone else to talk to. My wife has just retired. She expects me to talk to her now she's home. I can't think of anything to say. She says she values my opinion on domestic matters. I really haven't had an opinion since we were married - unless it is hers.
Lets get to photography. I always have an opinion on that.
Like most people of my age (the dark side of 70) photography has been an integral part of my life. Not in a life changing way; more in an effective manner, making subtle differences and influencing how I might see things differently.
I remember the first photo I took. It was of my pet rabbit. It must have been a special occasion. We ate the rabbit for dinner that evening.From that point on I recall the camera never being far from reach, happily recording the practicalities of life in the dingo family. Pictures of the family outings to the beach, celebration, a new member of the family, a new rabbit just before dinner. I never named the rabbits although my mother did as I recall. Such names as Baked, Stewed and Escaped come to mind.
By the time I reached late teens I owned a camera of my own. At uni I took a little more interest in the process and art involved. I met my first wife in the dark room at uni. She seemed so appealing under the glow of a dim red light. Her appeal continued into day light as did my career as a science and photography teacher (and father). Don't laugh. It wasn't funny at the time.
Teaching provided me with an income while I followed my other non-paying pursuits. There was no ambition to become a professional photograph. Why would I want to ruin a perfectly good hobby for the sake of the vague notion that I might be famous. Instead, I could do as I please, yet still enjoy Marilyn lying face up on a soft sheet and pretend it was me she was asking to have sex with instead of that dickhead Douglas Kirkman.( the idiot turned her down).What do they say? the one you turn down is one you never get back.
My interest were restricted (by my then wife) to ordinary things. I might have her to thank for my overwhelming passion for the ordinary. I have little else to thank her for. She burnt all my negs from 1967 to 1996. Ouch!
At some point I was told I am what is called a Street Photographer. I don't know what that is but it sounds about right. I do spend a lot of time in the street with a camera. You can be the judge of that.
I also have a great interest in the history and development of photography and its place in our sociaety and our psychology. I'll try not to bore you with that too much but I might ask a lot of questions. Don't be offended. Just imagine I'm a grumpy old retired school teacher with time o my hands - which is exactly what I am
I had better post this before it disappears or I need to go to the loo again. It happens at my age: things disappearing and going to the loo.
I'll have a go at posting some pictures soon. I might even ask some questions.
And if I disappear its because my current wife#2 has placed an order in or I'm attending my own funeral. I'm not a well man. Probably just Man Flu but you know how it is for us blokes.
cheers
dingo
I'm looking for someone else to talk to. My wife has just retired. She expects me to talk to her now she's home. I can't think of anything to say. She says she values my opinion on domestic matters. I really haven't had an opinion since we were married - unless it is hers.
Lets get to photography. I always have an opinion on that.
Like most people of my age (the dark side of 70) photography has been an integral part of my life. Not in a life changing way; more in an effective manner, making subtle differences and influencing how I might see things differently.
I remember the first photo I took. It was of my pet rabbit. It must have been a special occasion. We ate the rabbit for dinner that evening.From that point on I recall the camera never being far from reach, happily recording the practicalities of life in the dingo family. Pictures of the family outings to the beach, celebration, a new member of the family, a new rabbit just before dinner. I never named the rabbits although my mother did as I recall. Such names as Baked, Stewed and Escaped come to mind.
By the time I reached late teens I owned a camera of my own. At uni I took a little more interest in the process and art involved. I met my first wife in the dark room at uni. She seemed so appealing under the glow of a dim red light. Her appeal continued into day light as did my career as a science and photography teacher (and father). Don't laugh. It wasn't funny at the time.
Teaching provided me with an income while I followed my other non-paying pursuits. There was no ambition to become a professional photograph. Why would I want to ruin a perfectly good hobby for the sake of the vague notion that I might be famous. Instead, I could do as I please, yet still enjoy Marilyn lying face up on a soft sheet and pretend it was me she was asking to have sex with instead of that dickhead Douglas Kirkman.( the idiot turned her down).What do they say? the one you turn down is one you never get back.
My interest were restricted (by my then wife) to ordinary things. I might have her to thank for my overwhelming passion for the ordinary. I have little else to thank her for. She burnt all my negs from 1967 to 1996. Ouch!
At some point I was told I am what is called a Street Photographer. I don't know what that is but it sounds about right. I do spend a lot of time in the street with a camera. You can be the judge of that.
I also have a great interest in the history and development of photography and its place in our sociaety and our psychology. I'll try not to bore you with that too much but I might ask a lot of questions. Don't be offended. Just imagine I'm a grumpy old retired school teacher with time o my hands - which is exactly what I am
I had better post this before it disappears or I need to go to the loo again. It happens at my age: things disappearing and going to the loo.
I'll have a go at posting some pictures soon. I might even ask some questions.
And if I disappear its because my current wife#2 has placed an order in or I'm attending my own funeral. I'm not a well man. Probably just Man Flu but you know how it is for us blokes.
cheers
dingo
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