(no subject)
I don't know if I'm ever going to get round to writing about my travels. In the last month I have been to 8 different countries not including the UK and have slept in 18 different beds, one on a monstrous sleeper train across Croatia and the other a makeshift cot curled across two seats on a transatlantic flight. When I sort out all my photos I'll give a quick blurb on all the countries we went to but as yet I have no pennies to get them all developed and little time to resize all the digi ones.
I arrived back from interrailing tired and dirty after a sleepness night spent in a student dorm in the Slovak captial, and then three days later I flew to my aunt's house in a particularly humourless part of America's midwest for the episcopal wedding of my cousin, a failed model secretly overcoming painkiller addiction, to her sweetheart, a failed model secretly overcoming alcoholism. Eager not to suggest to the guests that anything was amiss, the ceremony and reception were hugely extravagant with unending sumptuous food and drink, and more drink, eventually concluding with me blind drunk, blagging my way in to a bar called Sally's with the ID of a 28-year-old mother of two from Indianapolis, where I apparently quoted Napoleon Dynamite none-stop and insisted everyone drink their beer pitchers with their arms linked Viking-style.
I also went to the State Fair, where I ate cheese curds and frozen custard, and to the Mall of America, where I bought a Nikon D70 digital SLR body, a Nikkor 18-70mm lens and a Quantaray 28-300mm telephoto lens. I keep sitting on my bed looking at all these toys, feeling awe, confusion and then an exciting pressure that now I actually have to produce something decent with all these expensive tools. It's shocking how easy it is to take good photos with the D70, and it's made me realise that 90% of the "impressive" digital SLR photography I see on the internet is more the work of the camera than the photographer.
Last night I had a trial run with my new equipment doing some photos for Joe's band Sir Yes Sir, who are apparently going to be featured in the Metro, after only one gig? We then went to SMILE where, after I sang Happy Birthday to Andy on the stage, hoping to make him play "Here Comes The Hotstepper", some girl with a thick northern European accent decided that I was "with" Andy (HE IS 39. AND BALD.) and came up to me with all her requests all night, whether I was dancing, at the bar, in the toilets, as if the girlfriend of the DJ would dictate his set list....
Smile was sort of different for some reason. We never got "Here Comes The Hotstepper". A man I met on the bus home bought me a bag of chips. This morning, I found Neemo's business card. In my bra.
I arrived back from interrailing tired and dirty after a sleepness night spent in a student dorm in the Slovak captial, and then three days later I flew to my aunt's house in a particularly humourless part of America's midwest for the episcopal wedding of my cousin, a failed model secretly overcoming painkiller addiction, to her sweetheart, a failed model secretly overcoming alcoholism. Eager not to suggest to the guests that anything was amiss, the ceremony and reception were hugely extravagant with unending sumptuous food and drink, and more drink, eventually concluding with me blind drunk, blagging my way in to a bar called Sally's with the ID of a 28-year-old mother of two from Indianapolis, where I apparently quoted Napoleon Dynamite none-stop and insisted everyone drink their beer pitchers with their arms linked Viking-style.
I also went to the State Fair, where I ate cheese curds and frozen custard, and to the Mall of America, where I bought a Nikon D70 digital SLR body, a Nikkor 18-70mm lens and a Quantaray 28-300mm telephoto lens. I keep sitting on my bed looking at all these toys, feeling awe, confusion and then an exciting pressure that now I actually have to produce something decent with all these expensive tools. It's shocking how easy it is to take good photos with the D70, and it's made me realise that 90% of the "impressive" digital SLR photography I see on the internet is more the work of the camera than the photographer.
Last night I had a trial run with my new equipment doing some photos for Joe's band Sir Yes Sir, who are apparently going to be featured in the Metro, after only one gig? We then went to SMILE where, after I sang Happy Birthday to Andy on the stage, hoping to make him play "Here Comes The Hotstepper", some girl with a thick northern European accent decided that I was "with" Andy (HE IS 39. AND BALD.) and came up to me with all her requests all night, whether I was dancing, at the bar, in the toilets, as if the girlfriend of the DJ would dictate his set list....
Smile was sort of different for some reason. We never got "Here Comes The Hotstepper". A man I met on the bus home bought me a bag of chips. This morning, I found Neemo's business card. In my bra.