Immersion ...

I'm finally putting together a presentation series of images taken in New Zealand.

We're seeing the Belgian Bloke's parents tomorrow.  It's Easter and they were curious to see where that son of theirs spent 5 weeks wandering.

It's easier to work on the photographs now that (perhaps) the last of the snow has fallen.  There was a light fall as I headed out into the night last night with my lovely Irish Fiona friend.  Irish is mentioned because I have this forever friend always referred to as, since I was 13, my friend Fiona.  That would be the New Zealand Fiona.

Anyway, I love this photograph.  I took it out on one of those Otago Peninsula roads that we wandered and it's my desktop background for now.

The Sun Shone and There Was No Snow!!!

We hit 5 celsius today, with so much sun and a breeze for the laundry too. 

And I opened the windows here this afternoon and pulled my bedroom/office to pieces ... dusting, vacuuming, mopping, stream-lining because cabin-fever is a strange and terrible monster and must be fought with diligence and much application of energy.

Everyone is struggling here.  Snow at this time of year hasn't happened since the 1880s.

So here I am, fighting to get underway and on with life again.  I have been hermit-like for weeks.  No trips planned until June and August ... and that has to change.  I'm hungry for long walks and good coffee.  Perhaps there is a way to reach Genova before June.

One my marvellous nieces photographed me while I was home.  I recognised my technique in her.  She stalked me until I gave in and let her photograph me. 

I miss the woman in this photograph.  She was driving, adventuring, moving, living ... breathing good air, talking everyday with some of the friendliest people you could hope to meet in the world.  She was home in a place she hadn't been in 8 years.

Now to make her reappear here.

And this was the third house, Broad Bay

I loved this house and the Otago Harbour views ...

Note: The harbour view was taken down on the road at the bottom of the street ... not from veranda.

I used to live here ...

Back home, I discovered Broad Bay, Dunedin and I lived in 3 houses in that small bay before flying to Istanbul ...

The small one, down by the water, was where I moved to after my first marriage ended, and it was perfect for a while.  Then the house just above the first house ... on the hill and hidden in the trees ... came up for rent and it was more sensible, less quirky but still wooden, with a verandah and a view of the harbour.

I loved living in Broad Bay.  I had a sea kayak, a car, and a golden labrador.  And just enough money for secondhand books and the occasional bottle of red. 

I hunted those old houses down and photographed them while I was home in New Zealand at Christmas.

A Strange Kind of Beauty, France

I wouldn't normally seek out this kind of image and yet it called to me and voila, I find it beautiful even now.

The sea, the storm, the lines ... who knows. 

But another shot from the coast of France.

Le Touquet-Paris-Plage ... and my bracelet.

Last weekend, Gert and I were wandering the wet streets of Le Touquet Paris Plage, about 200kms from Antwerp, playground of wealthy Parisians ... or so rumour goes.

He had booked us the Sunday night special in a rather marvellous hotel and it was really lovely.  But the weekend ended up being about more than that.   I have been searching, for a very long time, for a bracelet I could wear constantly, without it breaking and devastating me on a regular basis.  As has been the story so far ...

We were strolling along the rain-soaked streets, looking in shop windows and amusing ourselves before dinner when I spotted a beautiful silver bracelet.  I had to smile ... of course I was going to find a silver bracelet in the playground of wealthy Parisians.  Not being one myself.

Gert called me back as I walked on, pointing to the signs that said '70% discount' and 'closing down sale'. 

We knew it was impossible but we decided to wander in and ask anyway.  There's something rather nice about bracelets when you're a photographer.  Don't ask me why but I relate them to the whole practice of photography.

I tried it on, loved it, and asked how much.  He pointed to the 70% discount sign and did the maths for me.  I was stunned ... and delighted ... and feeling kind of guilty about picking up a beautiful silver bracelet at 70% off.

We walked out smiling, unable to believe how fortunate I had just been.

And the next day, before leaving, I saw this man on the beach and he seemed like a photograph.