Take A Trip

I've never been shy about the fact that, when given half a chance, I'll shoot analogue over digital for my personal photographic work.  I kind of feel that the images produced look more like the photographs that I grew up looking at, and when I'm making memories for myself rather than shooting imagery for a client or editor then I'd rather the resulting photographs hold that warm haze of nostalgia.  To that end, more often than not I have an Olympus Trip 35 camera crammed into my pocket or rattling around in my bag.  I have a selection of other 35mm SLRs that I'll carry as my "prime" analogue camera, but the little olympus is ever-present and as a result when I finally put a roll of film in to be developed I tend to get back a set of prints spanning several months, and usually with a good few keepers in there.  

Porto, where Portuguese Port comes from.

For a camera that you can fit into your pocket, the trip is hard to beat.  Olympus produced over 10 million of them between 1967 and 1984, so there are loads of them kicking around and you can pick one up for between £5-£25 on that popular interweb auction site or in a charity shop or car boot sale.  They have a fully automatic exposure and you can set the aperture value, but the main bonus is that these little beauties are solar powered and so you never need worry about running out of batteries.  You get sharp, rich images which is great, but what's even better is getting that feeling of nervous anticipation when you collect a set of prints from the lab; what was on this film?  Did I set the focus right?  Was that roll of film that I found at the back of the fridge expired or not?  As a pocket camera to get that childhood feeling of making photographs and achieving a different look to your photos without having to use a filter app on your phone, I can't recommend taking a trip highly enough.   

Isaac, way back before he became a lean, mean, sock eating machine.

Common Dolphins.

Kate looking back at Honister Pass, The Lake District, UK.

The Rialto, Venice.

Only one guy out.  

The trips small size makes it nice and discreet for shooting out of the way waves and then leaving your camera under a towel on the beach.

Donkey, Atlas Mountains, Morocco.  Cross-processed slide film. 

Mackerel and colourful crates.

Port Isaac, a place that I don't photograph enough.  Cross-processed slide film.

Summer feet. 

The Souk, Marrakech.  Cross-processed slide film.

One of Venice's many beautiful basilicas. 

Jarrad is a mate of mine from Western Australia.  He's been working in London the past few years and goes long stints without watching the sun set into the sea.  When he visited earlier this year it reminded me not to take that daily gift for granted.

Probably safest not to touch or eat these.  Autumn woodland walks.

Like these images?  There are more like this on my tumblr page, or you can follow me on instagram or facebook if you so wish.  Ta!

Fun Is Free: Swim In The Sea

It's summer here in the Northern Hemisphere and there can't be anything much more refreshing than swimming in the sea.  In fact, it doesn't even have to be swimming in the sea - wading in and ducking your head under or floating on your back for a few minutes can achieve the desired effect just as easily. I've banged on about the positive psychological impact of negative ions before, but swimming in the sea in summer serves more than one purpose:  refreshing, cooling, relaxing and washing, all for free.  Here's the rules though - you have to dunk your head under the water and you can't wear a wetsuit.  You heard - swimming trunks or boardshorts are acceptable, but for it to have to have the maximum positive impact upon your day it really ought to be unplanned and therefore necessitate you swimming in your smalls, or if there's nobody around to take any offence, the raw.  Putting on a wetsuit implies that you're training for a triathalon, whereas swimming in the sea in your pants implies that it's summer and you know what's good for you.

Sunshine Hit Me

Sometimes, when it's rodding down with rain outside (particularly if it's still supposedly the middle of summer), you need a bit of audible sunshine to supplement the lack of a big yellow orb in the sky.
Enter The Bees (aka "A Band Of Bees" if you're state-side) a six piece band from Ventnor on the Isle of Wight led by Paul Butler whose analogue sound harks back in subtle homage to classic artists of the 60's and 70's and manages somehow to both relax and uplift in unison.  
I caught them at the utterly fantastic Port Eliot Festival back in mid-July (more to come on that soon) and managed to get myself a spot down near the front and fire off a few shots on my trusty little 35mm Olympus Trip.  They came out pretty good and have provided me with the perfect excuse to tell you that, if it's raining when you wake up tomorrow morning and you need your day brightening up some, look these guys up and get some sunshine in your ears.  Even if it's not raining, their soundtrack will make a good day better.