Melbourne is known for its laneways, and the artworks that adorn the walls of many of them.
Hosier Lane, just off Flinders St, is one of the better-known laneways, particularly for its art. While I am interested in the works done by very talented artists, I am perhaps more interested in the ways others use the laneway.
That’s what this image represents for me … the use of the laneway as a backdrop for a hiphop video being produced on a quiet Sunday morning.
My interpretation of the Bolte Bridge is much more abstract than most of my images.
My camera just wouldn’t focus, but I thought I’d take the shot anyway. Most images of the Bolte Bridge are in sharp focus, so mine is, in a sense, an aberration.
‘Fed’ Square is a place where people gather – to eat, talk, listen to music/those with something to say.
The buildings that surround the square become topics of conversation too … not just for what they house, but mainly for how they look.
On this particular morning the square was empty, apart from the occasional pigeon and a security guard or two, emphasising, to my mind at least, the gathering-space nature of this place. That’s how I’ve decided to interpret today’s Melbourne icon.
We happened to be wandering around the city just after sunrise this morning.
Not that we could tell the sun had risen; it was one of those squidgy kind of sunrises where the day doesn’t get any brighter in a hurry.
There were no sunbeams to bounce off the Eureka Tower, no glints of sunshine to lighten the mood … but there was also no breeze to touch the surface of the river.
All was calm.
This is my interpretation of today’s theme of ‘the river’. Tim’s interpretation is here.
My husband Tim has been engaged in a 365 (or is it 366 because of the leap year?) photographic project for almost … well, almost 365 days now.
Tim has invited me to end this project with him, and so I will be uploading an iconic image as I see it: two views of the same icon.
Our perspectives are quite different: I tend to be more literal, where Tim often tends towards the abstract. As in many things, we complement each other.
Below is my take on the Royal Exhibition Building; here is Tim’s.
It was gentle, cosy, inherently interesting, and relaxing as all interludes should be. Let me tell you about it.
We found our way to Platform 1, where the train was waiting. Tim said, “Three minutes to go”, to which I replied “Three minutes to adventure”. It really did feel like we were going an an adventure.
We’d packed our bags with as much electronic gadgetry as we could fit: iPads, iPhones, Kindles, laptops, and headphones. It meant we could play games, read, listen to music, write notes/emails/blog posts/discussion board posts/feedback on student assignments.
We could also just sit and gaze across the countryside flashing past. Or talk to each other. We had the possibilities covered.
I took a photo after we settled in.
That gave me an idea and every hour of the trip I took another photo to mark the time, but also to capture the countryside we were travelling across. My hypothesis was that it wouldn’t change much in the 11 hours we travelled. I didn’t take into account that it would get dark so early and so for the final hours of the trip the windows only reflected myself looking out.
Tim in our cosy cabin 8:58am
Broadford (VIC) 9:41amGlenrowan (VIC) 10:58
Wangaratta (VIC) 11:09Jindera (NSW) 12:03
The Rock (NSW) 1:02pmJunee Reefs (NSW) 2:02 pm
Harden (NSW) 3:07 pmYass Junction (NSW) 4:02 pm
Goulburn (NSW) 5:11 pmMoss Vale (NSW) 6:04 pm
Campbelltown (NSW) 7:09 pmCentral Station (Sydney) 8:02 pm
We had left Melbourne on one of the very few cloudless days that city seems to enjoy each year and travelled under clear skies for most of the trip. I stepped off the train at Goulburn station and felt the chill in the air. Weatherzone said it was 6C there. Brrr.
We arrived in Sydney in the midst of a cold snap. Well, not cold so much as arctic. And raining. Our hotel was only a ten minute walk away, we dumped our bags, grabbed our cameras and headed out to see the lights of Vivid.
Sunday morning. Up at 5:30, shower, breakfast, quick walk to Central Station. Train.
Again, I took a photo every hour (or so) of our return journey.
Central Station (Sydney) 7:35amTahmoor (NSW) 8:46amPenrose (NSW) 9:40am
Tirrannaville (NSW) 10:31Yarra (NSW) 10:32am
Cullerin (NSW) 11:47amCootamundra (NSW) 12:43
Somewhere (NSW) 1:35Culcairn (NSW) 2:44
North Albury (NSW) 3:38Somewhere (VIC) 4:36
Oh my gosh! (VIC) 5:34Flinders St (Melbourne) 6:48
At some point in the afternoon I said to Tim “It’s Sunday” and that word felt strange in my mouth.
It didn’t feel like any day. I felt outside of time, even though I marked time by taking a photo every hour.
It felt – it was – an interlude. A period of time outside of the norm, the regular, the usual. It was no day. It just was.
The bigness of the landscape – the far away horizon, the expanse of sky – was perfectly accompanied by Ludovico Einaudi’s Time Lapse in my headphones. If you haven’t listened to it while travelling across the landscape, I highly recommend it.
We chatted; I marked assignments; I gazed out of the window feeling the beautiful music wrap around me … and then I read the book Tim had bought a few days before (A monster calls) and when it ended I sat and cried.
And cried.
It was a long way to travel for just over 24 hours in Sydney – and though this is as cliched as ever I hope to get – it wasn’t about the destination.
It was about the getting there and the getting home. Yes … the journey. Or as I prefer to call it … the interlude.
Musings from the cold 