The one that got away
Discussion
Is anybody else haunted by that picture that you didnt' take? Either you didn't have your camera, or you chose not to photograph it, or you missed the shot?
For me, as random as it seems, it was a halfway-house in Trowbridge at least 5 years ago.
We'd gone with a mate to see if the building, which was for sale, would have been worth gutting and rebuilding. It was a lovely double-fronted Georgian building on the high street. The front half of the ground floor had been used by a low-end lettings agent, I think, but was deserted with abandoned equipment and files scattered about. The rear of the ground, and all the other floors, were divided up into tiny rooms for people coming out of prison or rehab, or out of care, and was without doubt the saddest building I've ever been in.
The occupants had obviously only recently been moved on in order to sell the property, but there was one room in particular, that of a young woman, which still had many of her belongings inside. Photos on the wall, makeup, scarves and a few sticks of furniture. It looked as if she'd been simply spirited away as we came upstairs.
The sadness of the house, the deprivation that those poor souls found themselves in - I couldn't find words for it. She had 4 bolts on the inside of her door. Needles and drug paraphanalia everywhere, bottles of urine. The kitchen was unspeakable, and I actually don't recall a bathroom. Someone had been living in the loft space, with an old mattress and some ragged curtains hung up to try and keep the cold and damp out.
I doubt whether my skills could have made anything of these rooms, but they haunt me to this day and somehow I think that had I taken my camera, and tried to capture some of the sense of the place, it wouldn't still be in my head now.
What is yours - the one that got away?
For me, as random as it seems, it was a halfway-house in Trowbridge at least 5 years ago.
We'd gone with a mate to see if the building, which was for sale, would have been worth gutting and rebuilding. It was a lovely double-fronted Georgian building on the high street. The front half of the ground floor had been used by a low-end lettings agent, I think, but was deserted with abandoned equipment and files scattered about. The rear of the ground, and all the other floors, were divided up into tiny rooms for people coming out of prison or rehab, or out of care, and was without doubt the saddest building I've ever been in.
The occupants had obviously only recently been moved on in order to sell the property, but there was one room in particular, that of a young woman, which still had many of her belongings inside. Photos on the wall, makeup, scarves and a few sticks of furniture. It looked as if she'd been simply spirited away as we came upstairs.
The sadness of the house, the deprivation that those poor souls found themselves in - I couldn't find words for it. She had 4 bolts on the inside of her door. Needles and drug paraphanalia everywhere, bottles of urine. The kitchen was unspeakable, and I actually don't recall a bathroom. Someone had been living in the loft space, with an old mattress and some ragged curtains hung up to try and keep the cold and damp out.
I doubt whether my skills could have made anything of these rooms, but they haunt me to this day and somehow I think that had I taken my camera, and tried to capture some of the sense of the place, it wouldn't still be in my head now.
What is yours - the one that got away?
Had a Hercules fly over my head at 200ft yesterday, managed to get my Iphone and camera switched on in time but as it came to take the pic I pushed the wrong button. Well I haven't had it long and it was cold but it would have made a great shot. And then there was that time when I went to the loo at Festival of Speed and when I came back my son told me that Colin McCrae had jumped over the bales right where we were. He didn't get a shot either. Plenty more where they came from but I don't look back - only forward, you can't get them all but if you have the camera with you at least you have a chance!
I've had a couple of ski crashes I'd love to have filmed.
First one left equipment scattered for about 100 metres and my first action on stopping sliding was to look for a blood trail behind (good, no fractured skull) and the second was to move my fingers and toes (Good, back/neck's not broken either).
A Dutchman skiied down to me with some of my stuff looked at me, realised I was ok and grinned, stuck up both thumbs and said "Cool crash!"
Second one broke my knee but felt pretty similar.
Would love to know what happened in either!
M.
First one left equipment scattered for about 100 metres and my first action on stopping sliding was to look for a blood trail behind (good, no fractured skull) and the second was to move my fingers and toes (Good, back/neck's not broken either).
A Dutchman skiied down to me with some of my stuff looked at me, realised I was ok and grinned, stuck up both thumbs and said "Cool crash!"
Second one broke my knee but felt pretty similar.
Would love to know what happened in either!
M.
Mine was back in April this year. Was at Fraser Island in Queensland, Aus and at the Champagne pools (itself not that impressive). As our group were packing up and about to leave I put my camera away thinking I'd taken pics of just about everything I'd wanted to and then 3 Tornados(?) from the local air base near Byron Bay or somewhere flew over us in a beautiful formation!!
I scrambled for my camera but it was too late, and waited for a possible second pass but no luck
I like to think if I captured that moment it'd have made a great casual journalistic picture...
I scrambled for my camera but it was too late, and waited for a possible second pass but no luck
I like to think if I captured that moment it'd have made a great casual journalistic picture...Gassing Station | Photography & Video | Top of Page | What's New | My Stuff