On photography, legalities and other things.

I'm primarily a street photographer - I try to capture snippets of the strange tableau called life 'as is' as candidly as I can within public places such as streets, malls, parks, beaches, conventions and so on. It's an approach that requires me to be constantly on the watch and constantly moving, trying to preempt that perfect moment so that I can point, frame and snap without missing it entirely. As such I have to be quick to anticipate, quick on my feet, and quick to pull the trigger... things I often fail to achieve!

Atlas in infancy?

Child and water feature, Forrest Chase

As far as photography goes, I'm quite the neophyte. I know just enough to know what I'm doing, but don't have enough experience or confidence to consistently capture the weird and wonderful. Such is life. As with anything you've got to keep trying at it, otherwise you'll never quite make it.

One of the most singularly frustrating things about being a street photographer though is some person's reactions to you trying to take the perfect shot. I've been yelled at, told off or threatened with legal proceedings more times than I have bothered to count. Most times I'd just smile and move on, but then there's the occasional fellow who reallys gets under my skin. Seriously, know your rights before having a go at me!

No, Mr Bond. I expect you to die.

Evil mastermind planning world domination? Forrest Chase

There's no law in this country prohibiting me from snapping your photograph when we're in a public place. By virtue of the fact that you are in a public area, you automatically lose your right to reasonable privacy - meaning that I can snap a picture of you, your children, or even a picture of you frolicking naked on the sand if you're at a public nudist beach. The key word here is 'public'. Any issues you take up with me aren't legal, just merely questions of (1) personal taste, (2) perceived decency, or (3) paranoia that I'm a pedophile or (gasp!) a terrorist.

If I used your image to sell something or in an illegal manner, sure that's against the law. Just snapping a picture of you isn't, so please stop insinuating that it is. Incidentally, grabbing my camera, threatening me, or performing physical violence is against the law. A delicious irony that I'll savor when you're on the wrong side of those iron bars.

Inscrutable.

Child in a pram, Hay Street Mall

In my experience, persons with young kids, the elderly, and persons of African descent are most likely to take offence to my photography. Sure I can understand that some parents are overprotective of their little bundles of bawling, pooping, joy - even if it is unfounded; but elderly and persons of African descent? That I can't fathom. Perhaps it's something to do with a deep-seated pride or cultural touchiness I know nothing about? Please feel free to enlighten me if so.

My primary problem with being a street photographer is a lack of confidence to get out there in front of a person and obviously shoot that person with the person's full knowledge that they're on not-so-candid camera. That's something that I seriously need to get over or work around somehow. I notice that the more I photograph the more confident I get, but at the same time I'm not quite where I want to be with my photography, and I think it shows in the pictures I take.

Well, I'm off to take more pictures! Practice makes perfect hey?

Listen up, bitch.

You're a selfish, self-absorbed, narcissistic, manipulative bitch and you expect sympathy from me? Seriously, what the hell are you smoking? I've read the post. 'You'll always love me?' Please! You don't deserve love. You deserve far worse than you've been getting.

Let's review the facts:

You took my money whenever you had the chance. When asking didn't work, you pleaded. When that didn't work, you begged and promised. When that didn't work, you stole. I've never brought this up before, but when you take someone's atm card and go on a spending spree without their knowledge, that's called theft. That's not something I'm going to forgive you for. You owe me, and I intend to collect.

You were unfaithful. Sure you say that you haven't slept with anyone, but there has been hints to the contrary - dare we trust you? When the distance became difficult, you went off and dated one of my best friends for a month. I had to wait a year for him to pluck up the courage to tell me and apologise, and I forgave him for having the balls to do that. You never did; I'm not going to forgive you.

And that's not counting the kisses and cuddles. Remember your ex-boss at the restaurant? Or that birthday party I missed when you were reported 'flaunting' that guy to mutual friends? Or all that flirtation with that bouncer fellow? You don't love people; you play them to get what you want, and that's just disgusting.

You neglected me for over half a year. That's right, 'neglected' - and it's your word, not mine. What did you expect after that? That I come back to you after having minimal contact for months? That I'd still care even though you forgot my birthday until a full month after, lied to me about sending gifts, never picked up the phone, and didn't call or write me?

You're a drugged up alcoholic party nut. Maybe you can even drink yourself into thinking that I care. I stopped caring ages ago - right around the time you forgot my birthday, in fact. I even told you that it was over, yet you persisted in thinking that we were an item for months. I'd think that 'we should go our separate ways' and 'I don't have feelings for you any longer' would be clear enough, even if you're on the booze train.

And what do you do to get my attention after being broken up for months? You MSN me and say that you're pregnant! What do you expect from me? That I'd keep my mouth shut and not tell your folks? Or people who can help you? Then you come back and insult me for doing the right thing. Believe me, I wasn't being all nice and chummy during that conversation - I was playing you for information, and you walked right into it.

To top things off, you offer to sleep with me for old times' sake. What the hell? Lets go right ahead and add 'slut' and 'whore' to the list of grievances. That's what you are aren't you? Someone's got to support that lavish lifestyle after all. Sugar daddies want a little sugar of their own, don't they?

Let's get this clear. You wasted two years of my life, my time, my effort and my money. You drained me out emotionally. You played me for a fool, and I admit that I was played - for a while.

I thought I could change you for the better, clearly I was wrong. Let's be clear, I never loved you enough. You were always going to be the rebound that I settled for and was too stupid to get rid off immediately. Trust me, I've learned my lesson.

Today I'm dating a girl who loves me. She's smart, funny, and relates on a level that you could never reach. She's a thousand times more than the person that you are, and I love her very much - millions more times than I cared about you. You don't deserve love. You deserve to be exposed for the cheap shallow fraud you are. The person who is never truly happy because they've got nothing inside to live for - just an empty shell that's terrified of letting others see just how empty she really is. I might pity you, but you're not worth my pity.

So here's to the one year anniversary of one of the best decisions of my life.

Good riddance.

Why don't you give a damn?

I’m working with a kid – let’s call him Rob – who’s slipped through the cracks. The school and teachers have given up on him, and they went so far as to TELL me that they’ve given up. No one even asked to speak to Rob’s mum at the recent parent/teacher meet, and Rob’s failing almost every class!

Take responsibility for your students! I don’t know how many times I’ve heard a teacher say “I’m not getting paid enough to _________” in the last two months. It’s bloody appalling; too many selfish whingers and too little people who act like decent responsible teachers.

Sure teachers are overworked and have crap pay. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t care! You think an extra ten grand per annum will make a difference? Forget it! Joe Bloggs will pocket the change, say a nice thank you to the government, and continue whinging about the education system. That’s a load of crap. Teachers ARE the education system. If you want to change something, start with yourself.

Where’s the responsibility? If teachers’ unions can demand extra pay, then we can demand increased responsibility from teachers. You could start with talking to Rob’s mum, or trying to re-engage Rob in school or provide school-based support. Sure you might say “but Chris, isn’t that your job?” Sure it is, but foisting off bad kids onto an external service doesn’t make you responsible.

“One person can make a difference” is not vague rhetorical trite. If everyone came together, we could make a difference. But no, the school just tosses the kid at me. Seriously. I see someone for one hour a week maximum. So how about the other thirty plus hours the kid’s in school each week? Just ignore the problem? What do you think is going to happen to a kid like Rob who’s got zero motivation and low self esteem?

Your responsibility does not end with education. Good grades and angelic behaviour don’t make a better person. If you give up on people like Rob, you’re giving up on the future. Sure it’s easy to care for Suzie-Straight-A, but it’s Rob that needs the damn help and guidance! You need to care about WHO the student can become, not just WHAT he can become.

I’ve spoken to the school, the year co-ordinator and the school chaplain. Rob IS going to get the support he needs, but that’s just a stopgap. For each Rob we help, negligence is going to let another slip through the cracks. Seriously, if you’re planning to give up, don’t even bother teaching.

Work related rant

To all those stubborn idiot clients I see (thankfully very few):

The law is the fucking law. The options available to you are the options available. There aren't any fucking more pathways for you to take. Don't expect me to sugar-coat the crap hole that you've dug yourself into. And don't give me stupid reasons and blame the system or your circumstances for the crap you're in either. It's your life, your choices.

The options I've laid out are your ONLY damn options now. If you don't like them, too fucking bad. I'm not going to bend over backwards for you. Take some responsibility for your life. Shit happens. Deal with it. If you don't like it, too damn bad.

I'm here to help you, but only so far. I'm not going to live your life for you.

Stupid teens.

Kick backs.

For the fourth time this week, I've tried to take a shower before heading out (as is my habit), and someone's either already in the shower, or runs into the shower when I step into my room to get clothes/take a piss. Hence, I've been late for work, or in today's case, losing valuable daylight hours for shooting.

Considering that the plumbing is so shot that whenever someone turns on the hot water elsewhere in the house, you almost immediately get a cold shower, it's a wonder I even bathe as regularly as I do. (Approximately thrice every two days, if anyone's asking)

If this isn't evidence that it is better to live alone, don't know what is.

Toss in the fact that my internet is slow (1200kps is nothing when you have up to four computers running at the same time, and my sister is invariably downloading/streaming). Add in the fact that I can't even get a beer because of health problems. And you'd have a rough idea of how pissed I am right now.

I've just wasted an entire Saturday. Thank you, family.

The World Isn't Fair.

Next week, the first Apple Retail store in Australia opens in Sydney. It's. So. Far. Away.

Meanwhile, Chris is stuck in an Apple-less corner of the world, and has to deal with re-sellers and third-party tech support and repair. Why Steve? Why?! Do you hate me that much?

Hungry. Irritation. Rar.

(Why yes, I do believe I AM complaining!)

So since I've got no one to have dinner with after mass, I pop down to Taurus to have wonton mee, and find that I've got no cash on me because I've forgotten to visit the ATM.

Drive to the closest ATM, which is conveniently out of order.

Decide to go home to cook up mushrooms and eat some chicken I've got marinading. Sister's beaten me to it. My mushrooms and chicken are gone. (And she's gone out too, otherwise I would raise hell at her)

And someone's eaten the chicken burger I had in the fridge. Someone owes me $6.35.

Miso soup and tofu are options, but they're not very filling, and I am very hungry. Decide to cook instant noodles because they're faster.

Discover that I've got nothing to go with the noodles, so it's just plain indomee. How exciting.

Eat my one packet of indomee. Still hungry. There is no food in the house!

Discover that FoxTel does NOT screen live Euro matches. What's the fucking point of having cable if you can't bloody watch football?

Guess I'll just go to bed.

Trying to write.

I can't write with all this noise around me. I do wish Mum would just quit complaining about things. The walls of this house are thin enough that I can hear almost anything that happens anywhere in the place. All this talking and puttering around is absurdly distracting.

Minor irritations.

Some minor things which have tried my inexhaustible patience today:

1. Persons who stand around when you're busy and expect to be served immediately without at least politely coughing, or saying 'excuse me'. The customer may be 'always right', but at least be polite!

2. Telemarketers who refuse to shut up to the point that you just hang up the phone after pretending to listen to a 10 second drivel-splutter.

3. People who try to push products and services on you (even though they're not promotion staff) and insist that you must buy this because it's such a fantastic deal, etc. The enthusiasm's appreciated, and I'm sure whatever company will thank you profusely for trying to push their products. Your cheque's in the mail, by the way.

4. Insurance claims forms which are carefully designed to make getting your money back such a monumental effort that you probably spend more man-hours filing the claim than the claim's actually worth.

For all the above problems, my doctor prescribes a large heavy mallet to the head of the offender. Sadly due to a patent dispute, we are currently unable to administer said treatment. Plus there is that inconvenient trifle sometimes known as the law. Such an inconvenience, eh?