Also, it wasn’t actually cold.
(I instagrammed a similar shot, then kicked myself for not using my “real” camera. Luckily I managed to expose and click before missing the opportunity.)
Also, it wasn’t actually cold.
(I instagrammed a similar shot, then kicked myself for not using my “real” camera. Luckily I managed to expose and click before missing the opportunity.)
Fact #1: I’ll be shooting well into 2014 before I reach 365 photos for this project.
Fact #2: I’m OK with that.
Here’s a pretty streetscape. Don’t read the graffiti unless you’re immune to bad words.
I got myself shot last week.
It was the first time I’d paid for it since becoming a shooter, so it was a bit of a big deal.
This awesome headshot photographer did the deed.
Thanks for smiling in the general direction of my X100 afterwards, Alex!
One word, too many meanings.
One way or another, rough edges tend to disappear.
Milkshakes must be consumed through a curly straw, from a sippy cup, on a placemat, on this particular corner of the toy box.
That is all.
I’ve admired this residence since childhood. Not sure why.
Dainere Anthoney has become one of my heroes.
In 2009, she was diagnosed with a highly malignant brain tumour. Last Monday night, it finally claimed her life.
She was 15.
What she achieved while fighting an epic battle with her medulloblastoma can only be described as profound. She published a book (based on her remarkable blog), raised funds and awareness for brain tumour research, created beautiful art, diligently continued her schooling, published another book (a picture book for children), and so much more.
She did it all while enduring devastating pain (and not just the physical kind). She did it all with a glorious smile. She did it all with utterly selfless love for everyone around her.
I met Dainere and her family in 2010, when I gave the Anthoneys a photo session. It was impossible not to love her.
My children were lucky enough to meet her during subsequent visits to Canberra. We imagined we were cheering her up, but I suspect we were the main beneficiaries of these visits. Dainere’s grace and serenity were extraordinary. And that smile …
Dainere, you lived your short life like a superhero. We miss you already, but we’re so glad your pain is over. And don’t worry, we’ll do everything we can to give your beloved family all the love they’ll need as they figure out how to live without you.
Goodbye, beautiful rainbow girl.
(A few photos from today’s celebration of Dainere follow.)
Carol Duncan and I are in Canberra to say goodbye to this beautiful girl. More about that tomorrow.
Meanwhile: despite its political overratedness, Canberra is quite a good-looking city.