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There's somthing about the sun. There's something about snow, but there's also definitely something about the sun. Especially for an asthmatic smoking moron for whom coughing and spluttering seems like an inextricable part of life. Then the sun comes along and warms places that I didn't even know could be warmed, and stays. Waking up every morning with the sense, even before the eyes are opened, that it's going to be another perfect, blue-sky day, knowing that at least for the moment I can breathe like ordinary people. And of course it's great for photography too; crisp, clear colours, shutter-speeds as fast as you like, being able stay outdoors in comfort for hours and no danger of the camera getting ruined - it's like a dream come true. Of course, being Ireland, it didn't last that long. One morning I woke up, and the sound of soft rain, almost inperceptible - like a TV with the volume turned down low on a channel of static, and the wet, the wheezing and the sneezing were back. Oh well, at least it's better than nothing... Unfortunately I didn't take as much advantage of the photo-favourable weather as I should. My laptop had to be sent away, and I realised a couple of things. Without the immediacy of being able to view photos straight away, and scarily, the ability to do advanced editing on them, made me much less likely to take photos at all. I didn't realise how dependent I was on Adobe Lightroom. Here are the only two photos I took over the last month or so that I am any way happy with. The first two were from Spanish Point: I also went to Torc Waterfall last weekend, briefly, but of course full of expectation of a wonderful phototography opportunity. This didn't happen, of course. I don't think waterfalls could be any more of a photographic cliche if they tried. They're right up there with sunsets. I did manage to get a few that I quite like in black and white, however:
I just got his email from Pandora.com, a fan-bloody-tastic internet radio station that plays you music with similar qualities to other music you like:
"Dear Pandora listener, Today we have some extremely disappointing news to share with you. Due to international licensing constraints, we are deeply, deeply sorry to say that we must begin proactively preventing access to Pandora's streaming service for most countries outside of the U.S. It is difficult to convey just how disappointing this is for us. Our vision remains to eventually make Pandora a truly global service, but for the time being, we can no longer continue as we have been. As a small company, the best chance we have of realizing our dream of Pandora all around the world is to grow as the licensing landscape allows. Delivery of Pandora is based on proper licensing from the people who created the music - we have always believed in honoring the guidelines as determined by legislators and regulators, artists and songwriters, and the labels and publishers they work with. In the U.S. there is a federal statute that provides this license for all the music streamed on Pandora. Unfortunately, there is no equivalent license outside the U.S. and there is no global licensing organization to enable us to legitimately offer Pandora around the world. Other than in the U.K., we have not yet been able to make significant progress in our efforts to obtain a sufficient number of international licenses at terms that would enable us to run a viable business. The volume of listening on Pandora makes it a very expensive service to run. Streaming costs are very high, and since our inception, we have been making publishing and performance royalty payments for every song we play. Until now, we have not been able to tell where a listener is based, relying only on zip code information provided upon registration. We are now able to recognize a listener's country of origin based on the IP address from which they are accessing the service. Consequently, on May 3rd, we will begin blocking access to Pandora to listeners from your country. We are very sad to have to do this, but there is no other alternative. We will be posting updates on our blog regarding our ongoing effort to launch in other countries, so please stay in touch. We will keep a record of your existing stations and bookmarked artists and songs, so that when we are able to launch in your country, they will be waiting for you. We deeply share your sense of disappointment and greatly appreciate your understanding."
This really is disappointing - Pandora.com was one of my absolute favorite services on the internet. It works, too - I've bought several albums by artists that I heard solely thanks to Pandora. It pretty much stopped my using piracy to source new music. The music companies should be begging Pandora to play their music, not the other way around.
A sad day...
In my last post I talked about how I got up at ridiculous o' clock in the morning to take pictures in UL for the photography competition, and how I was pretty disappointed at the results. I was expecting some kind of magic light that instantly produced classic photographs, just by the virtue of me being there. Well it didn't quite work out like that, although I did take a few that I was reasonably happy with. Last Sunday, I made a second attempt. Not out in the University, but rather in Galway. The plan was to get up at about 4.00am, drive to the Burren, and take photos there at dawn and watch the sunrise. An ambitious plan, to say the least. Well, to put it this way, getting me and my better half up at that time of the morning was the equivalent of placing a bet on a drunk elephant to walk across a tightrope while singing the Mongolian national anthem... We didn't do too bad, however. We managed to struggle out of bed and leave Galway city at about 5.30. An achievement in itself. However, it was looking increasingly unlikely, as we sped down the road, that we would make it to the Burren before the sun began to come up. The best light is supposedly just before sunrise, and the absolute worst case scenario was sitting in the car watching what was looking like an amazing sunrise. The sky was completely clear, just what we were looking for. We quickly made an improvised plan: we decided to basically turn west, and headed for the nearest bit of coast we could find. After some initial worry, we at last got to a dirty, muddy patch of the coast that didn't look in the least bit conducive to taking beautiful photos. I was secretly pretty disappointed at this stage - I felt like the early morning effort we had gone to my have been in vain. I was to be sorely mistaken, however. Although the landscape didn't look awe-inspiring, it didn't turn out to matter at all, because the light was a wonder all to itself. I've never seen hues like that before, and looking back on my photos they have a slightly false look about them. The light took on a presence of its own, bathing the bare scene in just about every colour imaginable - with perfect tones; nothing was over exposed or too dark. The other incredible (and difficult) thing about the early pre-dawn light is its dynamism; it changes virtually from second to second, and literally from minute to minute. Without moving the camera I was getting pictures that looked completely different as the time went by. It's exhilerating; it's hard to describe. You have such a short time to take photos, and the light changes so often I found my adrenaline pumping within minutes of setting up the tripod and camera - despite the early morning grogginess. The fear of ruining what is probably a once-or-twice a year opportunity is pretty immense. Anyway, here are the results: These are by far my best single crop of photos from such a short time.     And that was that. All the grumpy bleary-eyed early morning mood, the panic, the fear, and the exhilaration, culminating in these four, and maybe another two or three shots that I am happy with.
"A bit... pointless", some might say.
I say there's not much in the world I'd rather do.
As a side-note; we spent the rest of the day at our intended destination; the Burren. I was happy enough to largely forget about taking photos - I couldn't ask for much more that the morning, and besides, one gigabyte memory card will only hold so many pictures! I did get one I was pretty happy with, however. The photography gods must have been smiling on me that day.
In my last post I mentioned that I was contemplating giving in to the mentally ill side of my psyche and getting up at half four in the morning to take pictures for a photography competition being held by the University. Well, I did it... ...and it was quite a disappointment. It was one of those moments when you realise that the mountain you've been climbing with expectation of reaching the top sooner rather than later is actually Mount Everest and you are on an elevator going the wrong way and trying to beat the...no, wait - you're the mountain. You're the elevator, and the mountain is knowledge, and the camera is your Sherpa. No, no, no - the Sherpa is an elevator - going the wrong way up the digital camera. Yes. That's it. Sorry. I have to indulge myself sometimes. Since nobody is reading this anyway I might as well have a bit of a rant now and again. Very cleansing. Indeed. Anyway, I found my little photography excursion much more difficult than I reckoned it would be. The photos I took all lack 'pop'; I thing was expecting wonderful, almost magical qualities from the light, but it failed to materialise for me at least. Another thing I never thought of was the fact that at six O' Clock in the morning in UL, the place is absolutely covered in nasty Sodium vapour street lamps, which ruin any shot they are in, and are almost impossible to avoid... Do I care? Yes, sort of, but mainly no. For one thing there was a certain thrill in lugging around a tripod and camera in a deserted University before dawn. I think I have the enthusiasm at least, and that must count for something. The mere act of going to UL at ridiculous o' clock in the morning was enough for me. Still, it wasn't all bad, and I did take a couple of shots that while certainly wouldn't win any competitions, will probably be sent in anyway as I can submit ten for each category. I would be happy with getting one printed, if nothing else.
Please rain, you have had your fun now. It's been raining for at least six years non-stop now, and I should know because I've counted. Dripfollowsdropfollowsdripfollowsdrop: yes we know it's all fun and games to you, but constant pelting us with The Wet has started to become just a tiny bit irksome. Especially when you're in the place W.B. Yeats walked for many years, living off the kindness of Lady Gregory (that poor woman what was she thinking?), getting inspiration to write some of the most hackneyed (but undoubtedly beautiful) poetry ever written about Ireland. When you're somewhere like this and all you can muster up is some crappy photos taken from under a shelter messing around with long-exposures and the zoom ring... So rain, if you are still there in the morning when I finally want to get up of my arse and take some photos at dawn of the lovely University Of Limerick, I will be most aggreived and possibly have to take the matter further with your immediate supervisor. So there...
As I mentioned in my last post, I've been home for a while now, and I've changed the name of my blog as 'Four Months In Geneva' doesn't exacly make much sense anymore... I've always wanted to steer clear of blogging the unimportant everyday stuff that happens to me in favour of actually having a specific purpose for the site. To this end I probably won't update this very often, and it'll be mainly photos. I've taken a few since returning to the old Emerald Isle, but of course it's much more difficult to be inspired by the beauty you have grown up with as opposed to that which you are seeing for essentially the first time. That beauty is here, is undeniable. The turbulent and often soul-destroying weather produces cloud formations that are ever-changing and wondrous, for example. I was in the Burren in West Clare last week, and the savage... bleaknessof the c landscape there cannot fail to impress. Ireland is a country of immense beauty, all right. It is just not the mouth-gaping, show-stopping beauty of the Swiss Alps. Hopefully my time away has made me look upon this country in a different light - I think already I'm beginning to appreciate what I have. Here are a few picture I've taken since I've come back. I'm lamenting the lack of a tripod (It was too heavy to bring home) so that will be the first thing I purchase when I climb out of this pit of poverty I'm in at the moment!* *Massive exaggeration!
This was out in the nearby Cratloe Woods - It's probably been there for months!
I called this one 'Depth of Field', and proceeded to think of myself as incredibly witty and intelligent for approximately seven minutes.
Cows make great photo subjects - they move so slowly they are easy to capture, and I think there is something 'melancholic' about them, or something...
So, I have been back in Ireland for about three weeks now, and I must say, besides the weather, the public transport, the security, the nice buildings, the weather, the ridiculously small amount of hours spent actually doing something approaching hard work, the fun evenings, the view out my window, the train journeys through some of the most spectacular scenery in Europe or possibly the world, the nights out, the laughs, the lack of any real responsibility for possibly the longest time since I was a child, oh yeah - the weather, the company, the shops, the god-damn hard-to-describe-but-undeniable intelligent nature of of the whole place, the clean streets and lastly, the weather, I must say - it's good to be back! To be fair, even though I may have sounded sardonic/bitter/twisted/like I was trying desperately to pad out a blog post when I have very little to write about (delete where applicable), it is actually reasonably satisfying to be back on home ground at last. It was an incredible experience, but it came to an end at the right time, and while I'll fondly remember my time there, I don't feel as if I have any inclination to go back to the place voluntarily (Geneva that is - Switzerland still holds plenty more wonder in my eyes) So au revoir, Geneva. You were a brief love affair, to be looked back on fondly but without regret - and both glad to have moved on with life...
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