I seem to be accumulating identities.
When we first started talking about this project for 2020, I thought I knew what it meant, more or less.
But the reality is, I don’t find it much easier to define myself now than I did at the end of high school, when we were supposed to be choosing careers, and figuring out our plans. I mean, I know what I do, and where I’m from, and where I live - but are any of those defining…?
I’ve been away.
Well, we’ve all been away, obviously - the last essay we posted was back in June, and it’s September now! But I’ve been back in my old home country, where I grew up.
Things are different there now - as I anticipated last year, my parents have downsized out of their Toronto home of 56 years.
This was also the first summer they didn’t spend July and August up north on the lake by themselves, they decided to was better if there were some younger folks around to help out while they were up on the island - so we drove up with them, stayed for a week, carried the groceries, and cooked. We also played some cribbage (which didn’t go so well for me)…
We’re coming up on a federal election in Australia; so it’s safe to say some people are on edge.
But it’s hard to discern left from right out on the streets - unless they’re standing next to a sign in a t-shirt, handing out ‘how to vote’ cards, of course.
Will we continue on the conservative path that’s seen three prime ministers (and two deputy prime ministers) in the past six years? Or return to a more liberal - though that word means something else, here, as the Liberal party are the conservatives - some would say progressive, considerate way of running the country…?
What does it take to recognise someone you know?
I wonder sometimes about this - about how little information you could be given about someone, and still know them; from a description, a sound, a gesture they always use, a certain way of doing things.
And it’s what I find I miss about people when they’re gone, too…
You hear a lot about ‘common wealth’, here: this is, after all, the Commonwealth of Australia - which is part of the Commonwealth of Nations (along with Canada, New Zealand, the UK, and many former British territories around the globe). We have a Commonwealth Bank, with branches everywhere, and Commonwealth St is just a few blocks from where I live and work in Sydney.
I like to imagine that all of this adds up to something, that the principles of the country are that good fortune is to be shared; and yet what we see more and more isn’t a collection of boats rising with the tide.
It’s funny - I hadn’t intended to write a companion piece to my last essay; but, here we are.
I was back in New Zealand last week, driving down the west coast of the South Island; and what struck me after a few years in Australia wasn’t just the colour - though the variation in shades of green are certainly striking - but the interconnectedness.
It’s a very wet place, the coast, and there’s a dark lushness to the forests; especially compared to the areas of New South Wales where I spend most of my time these days…
It’s funny sometimes, living in my third home country.
My first home was Canada; I grew up there, studied, worked in theatre, then took a ‘one year working holiday’ to come to Australia - which became a fifteen-year side trip to New Zealand. Six years ago today, I found myself back in Sydney, which has turned slowly into home, too.
Once in a while though, I’ll catch sight of something, or there’ll be a story on the news; and the feeling of those places will return…
The first Tuesday in November is something of a sacred day, in Australia; it’s the Melbourne Cup. Offices close for the afternoon, staff hold betting pools, and nothing gets done while the nation watches.
Of course, things happen outside Australia too - but, with the date line, US elections land on a Wednesday for us; and for some of us, they get in the way of work even more than the horses did…
Really, photography is about the questions we ask ourselves as we’re deciding what to photograph.
My background’s in theatre; and the key questions I ask myself when I see a production (or decide to work on one) are these: “Why this? Why here? Why now?”
By which I mean, why this story, at this time, in this place - what particular, specific resonance does a show bring to an audience? We interpret everything in the context we experience it; so what is it, in particular, that makes the script relevant right now, to the people of this place? The answer isn’t always obvious; and, sometimes, the context arrives just as the show hits the stage…
Sydney’s a city.
Sure, there’s a harbour, there are beaches, there’s the Opera House - but there’s also all the things that come with a large population trying to coexist on a small amount of land.
Traffic, construction, development - history getting plowed under for renewal and development, with little pockets saved by determined campaigning that, once in a while, succeeds in protecting the past…