It wouldn't take an Edward Snowden leak via a podcast transmission from an oil-rig off the coast of iceland to highlight the fact that I haven't been quite as outwardly productive in recent months. A back seat on personal and shared projects combined with a disinterest in maintaining supportive roles was only ever really going to have one outcome. This time last year I was in employment limbo and my camera was beginning to look a bit like an ATM. I had become accustomed to our social welfare systems seating arrangements and ticket procurement following my spontaneous departure of the nosebleedingly monotonous and golden handcuff monopoly which factory jobs provide. I tried to be a working photographer. Working, or not, as my experience entailed. There's an 8 mile of opportunities on the nightclub circuit in Galway City, and a knock on of smaller jobs if you're self disciplined enough not to preemptively guzzle your way through your earnings every evening while on social network nightclub photographers canon fodder duty, only to be too rattled and frightened to take on the responsibility of sober work. This mental scuffle and an evident increase in photography as an every-man hobby, no longer an art form, but a business, is probably the first red flag I ever felt I needed to address for myself and by myself.
So I sold all my equipment. Cool. Well that's that then.
I bought some film cameras and different Polaroid's and a film scanner. I've wasted so much money because I basically had no idea what I was doing until I started to know what I was doing. And by then my inspiration had all but completely evaporated so even though I had the technical knowledge to not waste €50 on film rolls when I wanted to shoot street, I no longer wanted to do that anyway, well not in Galway/Ireland at least. And then I met the wonderful lady you see below, and I suppose my social media has made it rather clear since then that a small spark of sorts has taken light with me and my hobby and I recognized what I was supposed to be focused on all over again. Family and friends, if I can keep my focus on those things, I can stop being angry at photography, and stay angry at photographers.
Below are some candid's of family and friends and some objects of interest I've found along the way.