Podcast - Autumn Ampersand Kaare

California, the land that is not Florida but has orange groves, the birthplace of Tom Petty('s music career, but not of Tom Petty), the land that is the theme of our podcast here...

Shutter Speeds

The endless clicking of shutters
has stuttered the words in my pen
where before
thought would undress
for the chance to find expression
in language
I am left dumb
and empty as the space
16 to 200 millimetres
between the last focal element
and the digital sensor

for the image rendered
is not imagery
it does not
as poetry
read

too two-dimensional to have voice
too .raw to express nature
too honest to have depth

Tonsai, Yangshuo, Chiangmai, Halong Bay, sigh...

Dear Asia,

I miss you and your people and my people and my people's people who are all up in there.

Your rocks are nice, your opportunities are fruitful...if only I could seed my photography career there somehow...

What America Does

America: a land of plenty; a land of opportunity; a land of stuff.

This is what America has that Australia didn't:

$15 Mobile Phones
Strobist: bare 580exii with 1/2CTO gel from close right of subject
and slightly elevated, left fill from white bounce card (aka some
cardboard from Cindy's Halloween costume package). bare 430exii
with 1/2CTB gel bounced off ceiling. (The vignetting was done in
Lightroom though...)

Drip Coffee
Strobist: foolishly bare 580exii from 45 deg
right of camera and close to subject with
left fill coming from afore mentioned
bounce card. bare 430exii from directly
behind subject with wide beam (a few
metres back)

Pancakes (not crepes)
Strobist: Same as above, but back light is
set at 45 deg back left of subject.

Hybrid Revolution
Strobist: 580exii through 8" softbox 45deg
right of subject, 430exii with full CTO gel
bounced off back wall

Carnivore Adventure!

Autumn and I are, right now, riding out the last few stressful packing days of our Tasmanian chapter. Before we bid this little island farewell though, we wanted to tick a couple of little achievements. One of these was to see a Tasmanian Devil and a Spotted Quol in the wild. Muthauckahs is cute afterall!

So, with an inquiry to the local carnivore expert, we determined a location in the south of Tasmania called Cockle Creek which promised to be rich in meat eaters.


View Larger Map

Here is the unfolding of our little adventure:

As with any good adventure, wine on the beach
was how it all started.

Then with a good head of lower-economic-
bracket house red, we pitched our tent...

...cooked up a feast of leftover soup...

...and set up a camera trap!
*Strobist: 580exII into softbox infront of and 45 deg to right of subject
430exII bare behind at 45 degrees to left of subject and elevated
~all triggered with Cactus V4

We used some ground up Kangaroo bits (read: "Roo Mince")
as bait for any carnivores brave enough to walk around the
tripods and ominous lighting equipment.

Some critters (read: the army of Pademelons endlessly
patrolling our campsite) were curious enough about the
lights at least...

One of the Paddies was even a little bit curious about the
ground up blob of her (you can tell she's female by the
bulge in her pouch) larger cousin, making us a little
curious about the eating habits of these "so-called
herbivores" ...

...

The pademelons eventually gave up on the meat though,
generally freaking out a little when they got close enough
to smell it. And so we waited into the night...until it
started to rain and we had to pull down all the lights and
retreat into our tent (which survived the near-Antarctic like
conditions quite admirably). Without the lights, we didn't
stand a chance of getting a picture in the dark, so we gave
up and bunkered down for a cold night (well, I didn't
think it was that cold, but Autumn has Californian
blood and she found it pretty chilly...granted, as soon
as it got dark, the ground froze solid and winds started
harassing the tent).

...

Of course, in the morning the meat blob cum bait ball
was gone without a trace, save for some trampled bush.

We didn't find any tracks though, but the fellow pictured
below was flying awfully low to the ground, as though
his belly was laden with a lead weight, or, perhaps,
fist-sized ball of raw kangaroo flesh.

Stories in the Fog

Today, after years of driving past Yak Peak on the Coquihalla, I finally managed to get a crew together to go out there, park on the side of the highway, hike into bear territory and climb the bastard.

So, up at 4:30 after a night of heavy electro dancing and King's Cup competitionery. Up to cat allergies. Up to a two hour drive up the hill and into the sunrise. Up and up and up right into the fog. Fog that would surely lift off; surely burn off as that great big ball of fire lit up the Alpine. Up and up through bear shit and soggy duff. Up to the anchors we couldn't see through the fog. Oh commitment, how you drive a beaten Cadillac of misdirection. To the top of the first pitch and into the rain. Drizzle. Windy slapping downpour...waterfall over 100% of the exposed face.

Turned tail.

And went home to dry out our gear and eat tempura donburi.



The evening starts with some harmless turntable music in the living room.



Less than 8 hours later, I am here...in a cloud.



Jake looks ahead to approaching storm fronts moving down the mountain face while belaying Christina to the top of pitch 1, where we'll later discover a waterfall and learn about the advantages of weather-sealed camera housing.

In The Muir

In The Muir
Originally uploaded by kaare.iverson
on the 8th August, 2010

I visited a grove of giant redwood trees in Frisco. This is what I saw. Monolythes from another time, standing great and tall. (I think that's in nearly Iambic Pentametre, btw)