Notes for a song

Month: July, 2012

Ellen is Leaving

Like so many Kiwis, Ellen is off on her OE.
As Ellen tries to minimize her belongings to one backpack’s worth she realizes she’s lost her passport. As I watch her desperately dig through the backpack’s pockets it’s like watching myself all the times I’ve taken off for far flung lands. There was that time I arrived at the airport and handed my passport over at check-in only to be told my passport had expired a few days earlier.
But of course Ellen is dealing with much bigger issues than where she misplaced her passport. She has to leave her boyfriend and she is having trouble saying goodbye. Her friends gather to farewell her and play parlour games, Ellen experiences that moment I’ve felt, I’m sure you’ve felt, where she realises Holy Crap I’m going to MISS these people.

This is a sweet little film from Wellington babe Michelle Savill. There’s a pot luck! There are fairy lights! There’s celebrity heads! These are just some of the good things. Go, enjoy.

You can see Ellen is Leaving at the New Zealand International Film Festival 2012. You can watch the trailer here: http://vimeo.com/45382020

 

Trying to be discreet

I decided to start my career as a street style photographer.
There are several problems with this career move.
First of all, to be a street style photographer you kind of need some hi-tech equipment. Or you need one of those little point-and-shoots you can clutch whilst clutching your clutch.
I only have my crappy phone camera.
Second, you need to be able to be recognised so you don’t seem like a creep. Like Bill Cunningham. No one would be like, “Hey creep, quit taking photos of me” if Bill was taking photos of them.
Third, you need to be real social and friendly. You need to be able to go up to people and be like, “You look amazing. Can I please photograph you for my blog?” And then maybe have a business card or something.
I’m quite shy. And I don’t have a business card.

So I decided to just be a discreet creep. I saw this beautiful girl wearing a multi-coloured stripey 1930s hat perched on top of her glorious curly up-do. It was kind of like a pillbox or stiff beret. I held up my phone like I was going to make a call and pressed the button. The indiscreet click caught her attention. She turned to me. Not knowing what to do I just flashed her this big goofy smile. Luckily she smiled back.
“I love your hat!” I said.
“Thank you.” She mouthed over the street musicians.

I’m not sure if I will stick to my new career, but I’ll let you know.

Re-issue 02

You can order this book and see some lovely images and writing (including mine)