Every Day For A Year.

My mate Frosty is two things: creative, and organised.



Well, he’s a lot of other things as well, but this is hardly the forum for discussing high-end pomades and toe-fungus, now, is it?


Recently Frosty decided to take a photo a day for a full year. A fairly short time after he decided that, I decided to jump on his bandwagon and display the resulting photographs on the ol’ blog. Every few weeks I’ll whack up an update so you can basically intrude on Frosty’s life and recognise him on the street. SWEET DEAL.


So here, in a massive and uncharacteristic display of handing-someone-else-the-reins, I’ll let Frosty introduce the project and show you the first batch of shots. I think that’s pretty big of me.



I thought I’d interview myself.

Frosty: What’s this project about?

Frosty: I’ve decided to take a photo a day for one year, starting 10th May 2010.


F: Why?
F: Because I dig photography, but always seemed to have an excuse not to get out there and take some pics. Usually it was that I was too busy with work, or playing music, or just too lazy to dust off the camera and get creative. I thought if I force myself to take some photos, I would get into a habit and the old “I’m too busy” excuse would become null and void.


F: Why start 10 May 2010?
F: Because that’s the day I thought of it.

F: Fair enough. So what are the rules?
F: Take one photo a day for the whole year. Black & White only. On a digital compact camera. No photoshop trickery, including cropping. 2592 x 1944 pixels. Landscape format. I must take the photo, but self timer is allowed.


F: So you can take only one photo a day?
F: No, I can take as many photos as I want, but have to choose one as the ‘best’ for the day.

F: But you said its ‘a photo a day for one year’.
F: Technically I did Smartarse, however that would kind of defeat the purpose of the project, i.e. to take more photos.


F: Well, maybe you should rethink that tag line. Just saying.
F: Well, this is my project. So I can basically say what I want.


F: Just trying to help. Let’s move on to another question, what does the subject matter have to be? Do you have to be in it?
F: That’s two questions Mr. Pedant. The subject matter can be anything at all, but as I said before there can be no photoshop action so it will basically be whatever I see on a day to day basis. And no, I don’t have to be in it.


F: To be honest, sounds pretty boring. Just taking photos of what you see every day.
F: Therein lies the challenge. Hopefully on a good day I will be able to shoot something interesting. And forcing myself to shoot when I’m not inspired, or when I’m tired, or when I can’t see something interesting around me will force me to get creative.


F: What happens if your pic of the day is out of focus, or over exposed or something?
F: So be it, the ‘best’ shot with all its flaws will have to be presented. Although I admire photographers who have the time to start perfect shots, I also like the feel of low-fi documentary style photography. It’s that philosophy that obviously fits in with no frills nature of this project. If one day is not great, hopefully the next will be better. I was originally thinking about Lomo photography. But with Lomo you can point and shoot and take an interesting photograph simply because of the warped focus and colours. Straight away its different to what we see every day, therefore you’re fooled into thinking it’s a great photograph. I’m trying to force myself to think about composition, shot angle, etc, and therefore will hopefully create something interesting. Maybe I’m looking at people like Terry Richardson whose trademark is portraiture with the use of harsh flash. Great photos which retain a very low-fi feel to them, and makes the average Joe think they can do the same. And let's face it, if its grainy or blurred or washed out, I can go back another time and do it properly with my way too expensive SLR.


F: Okaaaay, So who is the intended audience?
F: Me.


F: That’s it?
F: Have you listened at all to what I’ve been saying? It’s to spur myself on, if other people get something out of it, great!

F: Alrighty, well I look forward to seeing the results.
F: Thanks me too.

F: So what’s for dinner?
F: Well, it’s cold and rainy so I’m thinking something hearty, like Indian.


F: You always want Indian!
F: I do indeed.

You Had Me At "Tooheys" #11, or This Week's Pickup Line

Most of the time, my instincts are pretty good. I’m great at judging whether or not dairy products are still okay to consume, I can usually tell if I’ve got a visible panty line before I even turn around in front of the mirror, and I always kind of sensed that Britney Spears was a trashbag.



WOW, I suck at flirting, though. Well, I’m good at it up to a point, but then I take it to a place it shouldn’t go. I am the Hey Hey It’s Saturday of romance.

Last night, I went to watch some stand-up comedy at The Basement. It is important to note that beer and wine are served at The Basement. To me, mainly.

In between comedians, a trio of musicians played at the side of the stage. They sat on stage during all of the comedy acts, too, so they were basically plonked directly in front of me for about three hours. Which allowed me to single out the scruffy one and make sweet love to him with my eyes the whole time. My eyes are whores. Hooray for eye-whores.

One of my companions knew a couple of the comedians, so we hung around after the show, chatting and drinking, throwing our heads back with laughter the way people who are awesome do. Eventually I was introduced to the scruffy musician, and we settled into conversation. I assume I was being charming and flirtatious, because lord knows that’s what usually happens when I’m completely moose-arsed after eighteen thousand glasses of wine.

My other companion thought she’d nudge things along, so she came over to where we were chatting and said “Hey! You’re a musician, and Jo’s a musician! Aren’t you, Jo? Show him!”.





So I took my kazoo out of my handbag and played Smoke On The Water on it.






He didn’t technically sprint away, but it’s probably enough to say that kazoos are not his thing.


When I told my mate Lorin about it, she said she was surprised that he didn’t propose on the spot, and that clearly kazoo-playing “weeds out the keepers from the dregs”.


I'm pretty much spastically in love with the concept of Kazoo As Dude Sorter.

Will report back.

Sit On Myspace And Tell Me That You Love Me #4

(If you need some background to this, the love story of the ages, get it here. If you need anything else, I accept typed, double-spaced submissions or cheese)



After spending several months feeling unloved and abandoned by the questionably-literate digital masses, I’ve finally received another love note, from a wordy vixen named Elenna, via the wonder of electronic mail. The only drawback with electronic mail (apparently now known by kids as ‘e-mail’, though that’s unconfirmed) is that I don’t get to imagine what the letter-writer might have looked like slowly licking the envelope.


Anyway, it looks like Elenna wants to jump my bones (or possibly lick my envelope, but I’d really prefer to keep the euphemisms to a minimum). Elenna also seems to think I’m a man. Either way, I have a few comments about her email. I’ve inserted them below.


HA! Inserted.


Oh, right. Sorry.



Subject: i want to say u hi


Aloha, my dear friend!


Aloha?! If you’re in Hawaii, can you send me one of those coconut bras? I want to try one on and walk into walls.


I am a calm lady who is very friendly.


You’re opening with the calm thing? That makes you sound… not.


I can easily meet people and I really like to understand people.


Do you understand that people don’t say ‘I want to say u hi’?


I do my best to look good and to improve my appearance. I like to dance and to work out in the gym. I love to cook and to read.


Wow. You’re either really busy or you’re unemployed. Are you going to just hang out at home while I support us both? Because I’m really not sure you understand me at all.


I like classic literature and psychology. I am very conversational and I spend a lot of time talking to friends.


Yeah, on the psychology front, do these friends have names? Or even bodies? And are their bodies all in the same shallow grave? It’s always the calm ones.


My man must be strong and sure of himself.


I’m two out of three on that front. I’m sure that’s fine.


Should be hard working and driven to success but know when to leave the office and come home and relax.


So ‘make me some money and then come home and boink me’ is pretty much the lay of the land, right? I’m not judging, I’m just going for clarity here.


Should be financially stable with no drinking, smoking, or gambling problems.


I drink, I get drunk, I fall down. No problem. I don’t have a penis or dig chicks, though. Will that be a problem?


You need to know how to have some good old fun and be a good sport.


Old fun like shuffleboard? Old fun gathering around the wireless for some serialised whimsy? Old fun like rolling pensioners for their Kumfs?


Funny is a plus.


So is grammar and that.


You absolutely must be a romantic and not embarrassed to do something sweet and creative to show me how much you're feeling me.


I don’t embarrass easily, but this might be just the ticket. What, a graph?


I love someone who is not afraid to show affection in public but with good taste.


Boob-grope in Chanel. Gotcha.


Just know who you are, like who you are, and share that with me and we will have a wonderful time together sweetloveandhappiness.com/heartsinlove/

Elenna

 I haven’t clicked on Elenna’s link yet. I’m saving that for bathtime.
.