# 4 Sky, lights, road.

[Panasonic LX3, Aperture Priority, ISO 100, 1/2, f2.0.]

Just can't get off my fat ass, lately.
When it comes to anything other than Laura, it feels like the clutch between knowing what I'd like/should/need to do and doing it, is burned out.
I've got to ride it like a bastard to get myself in gear.
It's the little things, at the moment, that I struggle to do, even though experience tells me the benefits of getting them done are worth it.
Email to the boss instead of chewing on a gripe, update Benography, go for a walk, take a picture -- these things make me feel better, yet I can't be bothered with them. The camera has been left in the cupboard instead of coming with.
Can't help feel that I've been poor company, lately ... for that, I'm sorry.

Here's the photo that helped me realise this, took it tonight as I forced myself to post a letter. Brings me a smile. To me, it made the walk worth the effort, which wasn't really that big a grind, once I applied a little perspective.

Nice how an out-of-focus shot can show me a little clarity.

--Ben

For Sean, the boss who warned me never to come back with just one...

I take a lot of pictures.
I'm not talking Jo McNally a lot of pictures, or Chase Jarvis, but I do probably reel through about 300 or so each day and maybe 50 or so most weekends off. Way more on holidays.
A lot just sit around on hard drives and memory cards. I'm not good at throwing things out. Trouble is, I just like the whole click thing too much.
It's fun, sure, but, for me, it's practice. My first editor Sean said you can't take a good picture if your don't bang the shutter, and the more you squeeze it the better your chances are.
He was right. And always will be.
But what to do with them?
Only so many make the paper. And only so many of them are the ones I'd like to see there.
I can't print them out and hang them because we rent our place and every extra hook in the wall is another nail in the coffin as far as our bond goes.
The best thing about getting published is that people comment on your pictures.
"That one's cool."
"That one sucks."
"Dude, that one's blurry."
All feedback good.
So, I'm going to try and throw one up here at Benography every day (or so) and, hopefully, some will give cause for you to react to them. Even if you just like them in facebook, or send a smiley face. And if you don't like it, please say so too.

Thankyou, and Happy New Year.

-- Ben

ABOUT THE SHOT: (Aperture priority, ISO 80, 1/250, f2.8 @ 60mm.)
Taken on my Panasonic Lx-3, in Oliver's bakery in Ulverstone, Tasmania. They do awesome mini sausage rolls there, and I've noticed this smartly-dressed gentleman in there a few times. I'd lined him up for a quick snap when this young person popped into frame as my finger went down.
Instantly, I liked the whole picture a whole lot more.
Do you?
What would have made it better?

Cotton candy for the lady ...

This T-shirt -- Laura’s favourite (on me, not her) -- reminds me of a major problem solved.
What in heck do you wear on a first date?
No, not just a first date, the flutters in waters said, the first date.
Since I met Laura Lambert at that party , I didn’t ever want another first date.
So it had to go well, which meant I had to choose my shirt wisely.
No stains or crinkles, but not over-ironed ... just an effortlessly understated statement.
Crud.
It was March in Batemans Bay, which meant the weather was awesome and warm, so it had to be shorts and T-shirt.
Wear pants and sleeves and she’d think I’m an Emo, or worse, a Mormon.

"So which shirt?’’ I asked the laundry basket.

Not one I’d worn on any date before (which eliminated about one from the pile), and not one that was dirty (which, sadly, ruled out plenty more than the aforementioned).

Hmmm -- gotta be a band shirt.
But which band? Choose wrongly, and the implications were ugly.

AC/DC = Bogan.
John Butler Trio = Hemp lovin’ hippie.
Jimmy Eat World = Emo cutter.
Green Day = Pre-pubescent emo cutter.
Butterfly Effect = Keep away from sharp objects.
Bad Religion = To impress the Minister’s daughter? Idiot, Ben!

The pile of discards grew large on my bed.

(For the record: I love these bands. Just giving you a look inside the panicked mind of a boy faced with the terrifying prospect of going on a date with a gorgeous girl.)

Then it hit me. The Streets tee. Pale blue with palm trees.

Peace was declared in the Middle East of my mind and everything the horizon touched turned golden.

I bought that shirt at a Big Day Out with Zeb because I kinda liked the band, just not enough to actually go see their live set, so I got the shirt, instead.

It was still a dicey call. I only really knew about one of their songs ... (``Your fit, my God, but don’t you know it ...’’), and if Laura ended being a fan and wanted to trade trivia, I’d be sunk.

But she wasn’t. Aces!

We ate fish on the floating jetty on the Tuross River ... sat on the bank a while, and ... um, while there is still some conjecture as to who actually kissed who first (it was so her), the main point is this.

We did kiss, it rocked -- still does, matter of fact -- and in no small part, I owe thanks to that 35-dollar cotton tee.
(Either that, or my legendary ability to generate affection out of pity.)

Love you Laura. So glad you dug the shirt.
B --

Laura susses the competition ... (and realises there is NO competition...)

Hey all. Been way to long between drinks. Sorry -- but hopefully these delightful pics of Laura being bested by the (not-as-cool) Mercury's spot-the-difference will appease you. (See: cool)
It's been so long because between posts because I've only really wanted to post stuff I really liked, and what happened initially with this page was that I thought it'd be awesome to make a blog that was about cameras, photos, stuff, hopes, dreams, ambitions, veiled threats ... et all ... it goes on ... you devour it all, beer pours from the heavens, it's loved by all.
Wrong.
Lame.
Skip it.

Let's get a bit passionate, baby -- you're going to see what I wear on my sleeve from now on.

I promise. Literally.

Don't believe me? Stay tuned and see.

B --