Choke 'em
Over the past weeks the city was tidied up some-what, the homeless were put in shelters for the time being and particular roads were cordoned off. St. Georges Terrace was flooded with policemen and ridiculous signs affirming authorities rights to arouse suspicion over uncanny behaviour that could effect the image of Australia while The Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting (CHOGM) proceeded.
I watched an old dude with a killer moustache chatting to Police one day, as I walked a direction up the terrace. And then, as I returned the same way, I watched him get frisked, inspected and then taken away in the paddy wagon.
Politics, fucking politics bless my heart.
Oh, and apparently the Queen and her royal convoy were here too.
The dear Queen who does jack shit except wave patronisingly down at her humble peasants.
That was a bit harsh wasn't it? I don't know the woman, so who am I to judge!
I actually couldn't give a shit about these particular politics, I just like going against the grain of the masses.
The weather.
That's a much nicer topic. And yeah, it's warming up down here, as it's heading towards summer.
I'm usually hatin' on the heat, but now I'm really looking forward to it. Well, as much as I can for the next two weeks anyway, as I'm jet-settin' to Central Asia for an unknown amount of time, beginning in China!
Attention: back to politics.
So I got the Friday off and saw it as a photo-shoot. So I slammed a slice of Pizza at Lorens and P to the ublic-transported myself into the CBD.
I bought a 750ml Mocha, but quickly tapped into the inescapable buzz and energy of bulk people in the city. It felt like a happening place for once...
So I chuuugged the milk and...
The Queen. I thought this old bird was much sexier than the real queen, undoubtedly!
When I got in, the protest was at the corner of Hay and William, but they put their heads together and moved towards Murray St.Mall, speaker phones and voice boxes aloud.
The flowering spike of a Xanthorrea tree.
Even the Po's were shooting street! Using a monopod...
And she was using two of them.
"Go the bubbles!" - fucking right. Mad respect.
High-heels and Horse-shoes clickity clack.
In Forrest Chase, the "99%" congregated and voiced opinions on topics that Police and media have subdued. Equal rights, corruption and all that.
"Sorry for the inconvenience, we are trying to change the world."
Go go go the bubbles.
He definitely doesn't have little man syndrome. A legend in my books.
Jerry, or Gerry, however it's spelt. He goes to the city every day with an amplifier and sometimes a mic, dressed up in radical clothes, dancing the best, or worst he can. I love his take-the-piss-and-have-a-good-time humour, gets me goin'. Poor Jerry...his girlfriend of 5 and a half years had broken up with him two weeks prior, so he was telling me how he's gonna try and get her back. Jerry's 49, and the woman...25! Wish Jerry luck!
How can you resist that look?
It's been funny to observe people's reactions to this one. So, use your imagination.
Trippy?
Trippy but funny?
It was about bloody time I took this portrait. Too many years had gone by and I ignored the impulse to approach this man. He was a man of few words. A proud character. And that was it.
"Dance with me"
Pacing along, towards the masses in Forrest Chase, was tie-over-shoulder-man.
Our eyes volleyed back and forth as I drew my camera away from my face. We fired up some convo and he shed a few facts about his life. He'd travelled to 80 different countries, and worked as some sort of doctor in 32. He didn't understand why these people were even protesting, and reminisced of how he was watching a rally in Africa once upon a time, when two cars with a chain locked between the two, cut through the crowd and snapped hundreds of legs. In a pro-violence sort of way, he said that during the wars, they wouldn't help any of the wounded, they would just slaughter them. In the same way he didn't get there's, I didn't quite get his protest. But I shook the hand he'd literally just cut on a broken beer glass at Durty Nelly's and continued forth.
I saw this photograph and hastily snapped, because I knew that weeks before - I had taken almost the exact same shot, but on a different bench, of the exact same guy - on a roll of 400 tri-x that the kind Miss Claire Atkinson had donated, to shoot through my M6. (Which I'm selling, because after trying to adapt to the rangefinder, I still prefer the SLR)
So cheers Claire, this shot's for you!
That's the Coles-Myer corporation sucking some royal-dick, in my peasant-opinion.
The Happy Campers.
Ridin' the Scythe like a pro.
Okay, so basically they're saying you have to fucking pay for a prayer normally?
Peekaboo.
Shadow of the church.
He asked for a portrait. I obliged.
The extra height trick.
Jasper had just saved up a bit of money and come from the east coast. In Perth for a few days already, he was considering his next travel move. A super-nice dude from what I gathered.
So the 99% decided on a civilised rebellion, and they were to snooze in sleeping bags in Forrest Chase for some days.
I left town, to go and meet some mates and have a BBQ down at the south foreshore.
I hadn't seen Davo in two years, so it was good to re-acquaint.
The next day, there was a $2 sausage-sizzle down by the river on behalf of the queen. She could've at least shouted us a few sausages...but...no.
Hectic. I imagine it'd look good poster size.
Two little monsters in matching monster shirts.
Yep.
So the night before my birthday I went out to dinner with my family + Eve.
"The doctors keep giving me the indication that my time's running out."
Fuck off, Eve will never die. 85 and goin' hard.
The same night, I went to the bathroom and looked at my self with astonishment. Not because I thought I looked good, but because I blood vessel randomly burst in my eye. I kinda like it. So back at work, Tim Masih took this photograph with the Canon 100mm 2.8 macro. Tim Masih represent.
An orgy of white cars rolled into the end of the mall. It was like something from a movie. Security guards with ear pieces and the lot. They were government heads from Tanzania and the sort.
I sat next to him and ate a pie. Another situation in which I'd held off from approaching him for years. I got a different feeling from him when I was younger. Goes with the state of mind I guess. He was nice, also a man of few words.
I see red I see red I see red.
We are 99%.
I saved a few cents and walked the 5km home.
100%.
