Last week in the asylum.

Next week I move, so social media will no longer peg me as residing at Callan Park, the long abandoned asylum across the road. Thank god social media can’t geotag your state of mind.

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Some Ilford PAN 100. Sometimes when a film is too cheap to be true it just may be…but, there’s something about film, even if showing it to you requires me to scan it, turning it into a digital image after all. Damned if you do I guess. Also some of the last Fuji Neopan 400 in captivity. Once a worthy adversary to Tri-X, with Fuji’s signature fine grain and sharpness. I’m not the photographer to do the old girl justice, I feel sometimes I need to be a little more circumspect when shooting film. Digital habits are hard to shake & unhelpful in the analog world.

So…Rozelle, which has some relics of an industrial and gritty age hiding in it’s corners. Belmore Park immediately north of Sydney’s not-so-grand Central station during a May Day protest, and Manly, the ferry, a trip across the harbour, the emerald jewel and keeper of a thousand secrets. Pyrmont too & St.Kilda.

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