The Peaceful Sunday…

Or how I learned to hate the road.

Watching a peaceful populace pass and re-pass upon their lawful occasions must be a comfort to policemen and magistrates. It indicates a well-regulated society. When one member of that society is out there in the car trying to find out where it is all happening in order to take pictures of it…and it isn’t happening anywhere …there is a nubbin of discontent.

I needed to illustrate the performance of a standard camera for the work weblog. All I wanted was a picturesque view or an amusing vignette of life. I was perfectly willing to take pictures of the rotting locomotives in the train museum or any other tourist dreck that presented itself. But either good taste, affluence, or stultifying boredom has overtaken our city – everything is shut or crowded with people wandering aimlessly. I suspect they are also in search of the happening and that they are going to have about as much success finding it as I did.

This harks back uncomfortably to the Perth of the 1960’s for me. I tried to find excitement and beauty and romance viewing the sights of the streets and river and failed miserably. I am surprised that I kept an interest in using the camera through it all…none of the results of the time show anything good to remember. It has only been middle age and the activity of a small studio that has brought real photographic satisfaction.

Well, live and ( eventually ) learn. Back I went to home, back to cooking up a sauce for our dinner, and back to writing the column. I shall be making bricks without straw for a few posts, but then that is how the pyramids were built, and didn’t that work out well in the end…

Thank goodness for a workshop and a studio.



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