Impressions of the medina – this lot was taken on some very nice Lomography film, called Lady Grey. Marrakech, Morocco. October, 2013.
Upturned swappa crates, bone handled knives, flaky mushroom & mozzarella galettes, strong coffee and a fire-engine red hippo. Little and Friday is a breath of fresh air in the form of a cafe for Auckland’s sleepy Belmont neighbourhood.
I ended up here with Mon when we were on an op-shopping mission – it turns out it’s a mere eight houses away from where I grew up on Eversleigh Road. I would have never expected to find such a cool place nearby, but times/me, they are a changing. If you can, get your hands on the Little & Friday cookbook – it’s sumptuous and inspiring.
The joys of forgotten film! It was a cold, but sunny spring day in 2012 when I took these pictures, not too dissimilar to today. This is the Barbican, my favourite place in London. From the concrete Brutalist architecture to the high walks of the estate, the sound-muffling lake and the velveteen belly of the performing arts centre, I love everything about it. It’s my dream to live there one day, fingers crossed we make a milli in the next year or so.
If you’re ever in London, make sure the Barbican is on your list – whether that’s to see a film, visit the art gallery, or simply hang out next to the lake with a coffee and a good book. Don’t forget to visit the hidden conservatory, too. Built to disguise the theatre’s fly tower, it is home to over 2000 species of tropical plants and trees. That’s where I took the photo of a lonely heart…
One breathtakingly beautiful Sunday; Mon, Hank (her adorable Brussels Griffon) and I took a ferry to Waiheke Island.Only 35 minutes away from the city, Waiheke is a micro-paradise with a climate all of its own – making it perfect for vineyards and other grape related pursuits. That day, however, we were there to walk the Headland for Sculpture on the Gulf, a 2.5km walk over rolling hills and some of the most gorgeous scenery on the planet. Here are some photos I took:
Temporary; a work by Delicia Sampero.
Wildfire, by Sarah Brill.
Sheep Track, by Gina Ferguson. I loved the physical experience of this one; walking over a raw, knitted pathway, carefully considering the shape (and smell) of the new terrain.
Christian Nicolson’s Look Darling it’s Tom and Nancy – this was one of my favourites, and one of the most humorous. Nothing says sculpture has to be serious!
Sometimes I wonder why I’m going back to film (particularly while trudging up the hill to Angel in the bitter cold to get my rolls developed) . It doesn’t seem to enhance my photography skills at all. I suppose I like it for a different reason, the fact it lets me slow down, and luxuriate in the moment rather than snap-snap-snapping. Being forced to stop and think about what I’m looking at is definitely a pleasure, and I’m starting to savour the surprise of getting my photos back – all the control is long out of my hands.
A trio of soda brands spotted in Morocco, October 2012. The language of logos is universal.
After a fabulous night in Inverness (including an entertaining chat with some other travellers who thought we were locals at the Hootananny bar) we hit the road again. However, despite creeping around the entire edge of the loch, there was no Nessie – save this fibre-glass beast. (Located right next to a portrait of Mel Gibson as William Wallace at Nessieland.)
I loved everywhere we went in Scotland, but the Glen Affric nature reserve was extra special. There’s a moss there (snot-green that hangs like a beard off trees) that only thrives in the purest air. Near the car park it was just sort of hanging there, but the deeper into the hills we walked, the shaggier and healthier it got. I spent a lot of time breathing deeply and sighing contentedly while there – marveling at the Jurassic Park-like landscape. The temperature was below zero, and as you can see below, everything was encrusted with ice.
From Glen Affric we rolled back across the east of Scotland, passing through rugged moors and beautiful mountain ranges, before heading back down to Edinburgh as night fell. I would love a recording of Peter, our guide, rolling the words “Forth Rail Bridge” over and over. His accent was amazing!
I’m not sure if it’s because Scotland reminds me of home, but I can’t speak highly enough of the experience. The wonderfully warm people, the glorious landscapes, and the quirky little moments we enjoyed (if you ever get the chance to drink beer made from heather and honey, do so). Having experienced winter, and now autumn, I want to go back for another season. I hope spring comes soon.
All photographs taken on 35mm with a Canon AE-1 camera.