January in pictures

It's been an odd month. Things started hopefully, before descending into a stress-filled heap, and then levelling out at the tailend. Or so I hope.

Anyway, I've done a few interesting things in that time. Like wandering about the Cotswolds with friends, visiting the zoo and, as ever, enjoying the Swan-infected waters of Colchester's river. I've also set up a Lighbox site, for some of my cameraphone shots - which tend to be even worse than what's here - which you can have a scan of over here








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My pictures of the year

In the couple of years that I've been faffing around with a 'proper' camera, I think the last 12 months have shown a definite improvement in what I'm doing. Not that I'm great, mind, but I can absolutely see the difference between the types of shots I was interested in when I was learning the ropes, compared to the types of shots I'm taking now, having started to understand said ropes.

Interestingly, what I've noticed most is that my eye for every day detail has improved remarkably. These days I find myself looking at textures, patterns, people and environments and thinking "how could I turn this into a strong image?", even without a camera to hand.

As a hobby I'm finding it more and more enjoyable. Moving somewhere new was made less daunting through the eye of a lens; while the many hours I have alone at the weekends when Su is working are often taken up with myriad picture-taking escapades (which mostly include my favourite family of swans on the lake outside my flat).

So, with it being the end of the year, and the end of the year being all about 'lists', here's a list of my favourite pictures I've taken in 2011. I'm not suggesting these are in anyway amazing, or even good, but from all the various photographs I've taken in 2011 these are the ones that mean the most to me.

Dunbar harbour, Dunbar [February]

North Berwick harbour, North Berwick [March]

Roseburn Park, Edinburgh [April]

Strathy Beach, Caithness [April]

Forth Rail Bridge, North Queensferry [May]

The Crags, Edinburgh [May]

4 July barbeque in Florida [July]

Water of Leith, Edinburgh [July]

Roseburn, Edinburgh [July]

Snape Maltings, Suffolk [August]

East Feast, Suffolk [September]

Mersea Island, Essex [October]

Westminster, London [October]

Autumnal leaves in Morris Town, New York [November]

Central Park, New York [November]

Cortlandt St. subway station, New York [November]

My birthday cake, Colchester [December]

Our Christmas tree, Colchester [December]

Thanksmas, Colchester [December]

Standing in not so good stead

I don't mean to boast (and honestly I really don't), but my carbon footprint is getting bigger every week. In the last month and a half I've been on eight flights. After Wednesday I'll have another two stubs to add to by burgeoning collection of EasyJet tickets. Having a wife, as well as my preferred job market, based hundreds of miles away certainly doesn't do anything for the environment.

Given its proximity to my Colchester abode, London Stanstead is my plane station (calling them airports just seems so drab) of choice. It is, in every sense, a hell hole. The third busiest airport in the UK it may be, but Stanstead does a good job of resembling a dysfunctional sheep's pen.

Dead-eyed security wardens shepherd travellers into an uncoordinated, never ending drove; lager-sodden Ryanair hoards jetsetting it to Alicante pass voluble judgement on less loutish explorers; while air-conditioning is only a daydream in this perspiring people-coup of adventureless air travel (there's no transatlantic flights, hence the perceived lack of adventure).

As a child I used to find just the thought of an airport a thrill. A congregation of people gearing up to take flight to unexplored destinations was wholly ambitious and aspirational. But Stanstead has killed that. It has no joy within its monochromatic casing; no goose-flesh to its practical but wholly prosaic skin. London Stanstead is the embodiment of a modern airport. A place to get from A to B. Maybe I'm wrong to expect something more.

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Incidentally, I was in Colchester last weekend. Here's some pictures I took while I was there. My white balance was unknowingly set to fluorescent, so there's a slight blue tinge to my pictures. I've tried to touch them up in Photoshop but I'm afraid there' not much I can do to cover up such a rookie faux pas!

D Day (D is for decision, by the way)

Today is the day I've finally made the decision. Not that it fills me with any sense of satisfaction, the trepidation is still there, but it's easier functioning knowing what the future holds, instead of not having the faintest impression of where you're going to be in one month, nevermind six.

I could call it an exit strategy, but it's not. This is a blind leap. There's a certain thrill in not knowing where you're going to land (apart from Colchester, obviously) and the prospect of falling knee-deep into something new tingles with an edginess I'm not particularly familiar with.

So from the sedate, to the shaken I go. Bring on September.

Job hunting is not my favourite pastime

So, I'm aware this is my third post in as many days, which means I'm currently trailblazing this blogging shizzle like a jet-propelled cowboy!

I guess I've just made that all sound quite exciting, haven't I? In reality, all I'm doing right now is trying to resist the allure of one more round of toast topped with lashings of cold, supermarket own brand strawberry jam.

I was supposed to be going to a gig tonight but I've got a scuffed up, gland-bloated throat right now, so a night in is probably a good idea. I've also have the fairly pressing concern of finding a new job to contend with, which is keeping me rather occupied.

Admittedly, I don't have to worry too much about not having an income. My comms job in Edinburgh pays good and it's not going anywhere. But, if I wish to be reunited with my estranged wife for more than the fleeting weekends we're getting at the moment then a new source of employment is a must.

Quite frankly, job hunting for jobs in another country is a major inconveniece. Particularly in communications. The best jobs are freelance and that means needing to be available ASAP. Which I'm not. For permanent jobs, agencies want to see you first, to do some form of aesthetic inspection of your ability to work - something that's a bit problematic when you're 400 miles away. And even when they do put you forward for a role, it's not a role you actually want (I recently walked out of an interview after 20 mins because it was definitely not pitched for someone with no online technical skills like me!!).

Anyway, I'm currently at a standstill. I need a job. But I have a job. And to find a job I will need to leave my current job. But to do that I need money, which - of course - my current job provides. Something, somewhere, has got to give. So do I chance it? Do I quit my current vocation and take the gamble, risking being impoverished? Or do I hold out in the hope something comes up?

Right now the answer is: I really don't know. But, I do need to know quite fast. After all, my Auld Reekie flat lease is up in 30 days!

As a bit of relief to my head-scratching job conundrum, here're some shots from when Su and I were taking our last walk down the Water of Leith before ending up at Holyrood Park to see the Swans

Birdwatching in Edinburgh

This week for the place I still call work I was asked to take my camera to a guided birdwatch my company had put on with Edinburgh and Lothians Greenspace Trust (EGLT). It was a fairly early start to the day, 7.30am, but thankfully a decent amount of feathered-friend spotters took up the opportunity to be led around the Canonmills area of the Water of Leith with birdsman Mike Bennie.

It was a pretty fun morning. There was a lot of construction work going on at the time so there wasn't as much birdlife shaking its tail feather as we would have liked, but Mike - ever the professoinal - managed to make even the most mundane birds sound relatively interesting.

Photo-wise, I'm not that happy with what I took. But it's a learning process. One of the major difficulties I found was getting frontal shots, rather than from behind. They either looked directly at the camera or acted in the most bizarre manner. In marketing, they call this the Hawthorne Effect. I'm sure professional photographers have another, more expletive speckled term for it, however. Very infuriating.

It's nice to shoot with the D700 though. I'm certain the quality of the camera is making up for my lack of prowess, technically. I'm very much looking forward to getting my paws on Su's D3 once I'm down in Colchester. If she'll let me, that is!