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?

Two Claires, a guy and an after party (Part One) …

Two stories come to mind when I slide into this John Butler Trio scribble tee: The How-I-Got-It part, and the How-I-Didn't-Get-It part. Both make awesome memories and both take place in the second half of Year 12 ... that endless summer of 2003.

The How-I-Got-It part:

I owe it all to the Claires (Weston and Simpson). As my 18th birthday approached, Claire W organised me a thoroughly awesome ticket to join them at a John Butler concert at Sydney's Enmore Theatre, and I couldn't have been more stoked. I bought the tee at the shirt stand on the way in.

It's a bit faded now, and warped from being hung on the clothesline so often, but one glance at it spirits me back through time faster than a TARDIS ever could.
The Claires scored us tickets with seats. But because my birthday was some months after their birthdays, when they bought my ticket my seat was several rows back and all on its lonesome.

Well, almost.

Turns out I scored a seat next to some dude, his missus, and a baggie full of roofies he kept offering me.

"Want one, man? It'll totally amp your night.''

You betcha. "Nah, it's cool. Cheers, but."

Next thing, Dude's off to the bar and he comes back with a VB tinnie with it's topped popped, white froth fizzing out the hole.

"Have a beer then. Totally amp your night.''

Cheers, Mate. I dunno what he put in there, but the can's walls pulsed like an ill-maintained hedge clipper.

I mean, cripes, that beer was giving off fumes!

I could picture how I'd end up if I downed that beer -- hanging via atomic wedgie from a fire escape by my undies in Kings Cross with wet paint on my hands ... kicking back on a bed of ice with two small pangs in my lower back ... or walking into a motorcycle gang's dojo
and screaming "Bitches! Where are all the straight guys?"

So I waited a bit, bought the next round, and left the noxious brew at the bar, which by that stage twitched by itself like it had done three rounds in a paint mixer.

Then he paid again. Same routine.

I'm drinking my beers, so somewhere in the second hour, I'm struggling to remember which is brew is tainted.

That's when the T-shirt stepped up.

If I hung the tee over my left shoulder = my round. Down that fella.

Right shoulder = spill it on your jeans.

By the end of that sweaty, three-hour gig, I reckon I had the wettest crutch in Sydney. Who knows what the Claires thought when they saw me.

Should I have undone the top button on my girls' blouse and guzzled his beers? I still think no.

Still, despite the subterfuge, there were some ace tunes to be heard, and the two Claires and I had an awesome night.

And the Dude?

Well, by the end of the show, Dude and I shook hands, bro-hugged while he swore he'd call me on the seven-digit phone number I left him, and his Missus nanna-pashed my cheek and told me I was cute as I left.

Just proves hemp shirts don't have all the fun.

B --

Is this cool ... or crud?

I don't usually understand the rhythm of `arty shots'. (In fact, I'm certain I rarely do.)

Flowers and a bowl? Chair in the forest? What? C'mon, lets see a person - is how my brain is wired. It's a bit like landscape photography in the sense that I'm not very comfortable doing it, and I'd rather shoot something with a heart beat (or a motor), nearly every time I'm with camera.

You see them on websites and think ``yeah, that rocks'', or, more often and not in my case, ``nup, that doesn't''. So I steer clear and never bother with them.

But just because it's hard doesn't mean I should have a crack, so I'm putting up this offering for your ruthless appraisal. Don't just give me a stroke ... I'd be really stoked if you'd leave a thought or two that might slowly make me better at this sort of stuff.

I was stuck waiting for a while at the Burnie Regional Art Gallery one night to take a few socials at an opera night and this caught my eye. Regardless of your thoughts, Greg, the gallery manager, Is an absolute gem of a bloke, and if he's reading, thankyou again for the snacks and sandwiches. (And flexibility - I was more than 40 minutes late to this job thanks to some prior ego I had to photograph and he reorganised his night to make sure I had some pics to front my boss with.

Nice guy. You should buy a painting off him!

GEAR: Canon 40D, 17-35 f2.8 wide open, about 15th of a sec if memory serves.

(BTW -- Still waiting to hear from someone with regards to the mystery shot in my last post. C'mon guys -- North-West Tasmania ... how hard can it be? If you're thinking about 20 minutes west of Burnie and near some flowers you are in the right ballpark.)

See how the seagull goes...

So. Here it is. My first post. On my first blog. SWEET! Okay … it might be a little geeky … but I read recently that there’s like one blog for every three people on the planet ( or was that 30, or 300 or 3000?) … anyways, that’s not important. The thing is, if there’s that many people doing it … who cares.

Besides, it’s a good writing out for me, as I’ve just shifted from reporter/photographer to full-time photographer at The Advocate newspaper in down-town North-West Tasmania.

The picture here is in the running to become the Advocate’s Pic of the Week … and I like it for all sorts of reasons:

* It was taken on one of the rare sunny days in Tasmania at a kick-ass park in a place called Ulverstone. (I swear the thermometer busts past 20 degrees about six times a year, at best.) Laura and I were having a picnic and it was awesome.
* I like it because it was taken on our filthy sweet new compact camera called a Panasonic LX3. This thing rocks! It oozes rangefinder cool – is unassuming and takes stellar pictures. I have this camera on me more than my wallet lately … and we bought it with the proceeds of the gift money we were given at from our wedding. So Thankyou!!
* The seagull was damn plucky … barely a handspan away! He flapped and inched forward, squawked, back-tracked, then came in hard with wings up all-a-menace!! Pushed through the fear for the sandwich crumbs to join the ranks of the truly brave.

HOW WE DID IT: Throw down the sandwich chunk, pre-focus, hold that trigger halfway, and wait … wait … wait … CLICK!

We’ll know on Saturday morning when the paper hits the driveway if it makes the cut … there are some killer photogs at the Advocate and I’m new so we’ll have to wait and see.

(BTW – I know there’s a few bits I could’ve cloned out of the background, like the light pole, bits of brown grass et al, but as a newspaper guy I’m still kinda uneasy about all that. What do you guys reckon?)