mirgraphy

Four weeks into the waiting period and although I wish I could say time is flying by, but I am mentally crossing each day rather like Sal from The Secret River by Kate Grenville. Even with email, phone and modern convenience the concept of London is becoming vaguer each day. I am missing people, the freedom of not needing a car to get from point A to point B, but I am ambivalent about going back to work. Trying to catch up on London time had resulted in an insane sleeping pattern that I am not all that happy with and I am feeling just a tad anxious about how long I can keep working remotely, as it can only work if people read emails correctly!

All of the above was probably the reason why I ended up saying yes to the Dusk Until Dawn shoot last weekend (the hardcore edition). With a crazy sleep pattern, staying up all night should be an absolute cinch right? Well it would have helped if I have the right footwear, but unfortunately that was one of the items I left back in London.

We wandered from Cockatoo Island before venturing around Balmain, crossing the Anzac Bridge to Pyrmont before looping back. It’s a route I am familiar with when driving past, but I had never even thought of wandering around the mostly industrial area.

Most of the shots I took were from Cockatoo island…

Cockatoo Island is the largest island in Sydney Harbour. It’s one of Sydney’s great places to visit, big, surprising, entertaining. Located at the junction of the Parramatta and Lane Cove rivers, Cockatoo Island is a former imperial prison, industrial school, reformatory and gaol. It is also the site of one of Australia’s biggest shipyards during the twentieth century. The first of its two dry docks was built by convicts and was completed in 1857. The island’s maritime industrial activity ceased in 1992.

I didn’t realise you can camp on Cockatoo Island aside from festivals and New Year is on. The tents looked rather like well maintained refugee village among the remains of a ship wharf. What remained are empty industrial buildings, rusted and scarred by time. Wandering through the empty, echoing spaces, it did not feel unlike an theatre stripped bare with a few sleepy props left forgotten.

As for Balmain, my shots from that part of the night were rubbish, I am going to attribute it to lack of sleep, my feet hurting like hell and piking before dawn actually arrived. No I’m not hardcore and glady admit it to anyone. On the other hand, I would like to go back to Balmain and walk the same route during daytime, there were enough places that made me think with light I might be able to get some interesting shots…