Hi, and welcome to my photography blog. I use this space to talk about my creative processes, life, and photographic pursuits. I’ve been drawn to street photography since I started taking digital photography seriously in 2013. I had been coerced by my loving sister to buy a camera as a means to distract me from my grief and to get me out of the house. I had lost my partner of 18 years to a fast and brutal cancer and had been left empty and broken. Very broken. Picking up a camera proved to be one of the best forms of therapy possible. Of course, I have had years and years of professional therapy to deal with the bits that photography didn’t fix!

In all seriousness, I was lost and seeking answers to how life could possibly go on after such a staggering loss. Photography helped me by providing a lens through which I could safely view the world. More importantly, street photography allowed me to watch people interact with their world and experience love, laughter, sadness, and fear. I’ve often talked about how street photography was like snorkeling on a reef, watching all the different fish interact without fear of interrupting their experience. So, I pursued street photography to regain my understanding of how humans live every single day.

Grief is a tricky beast to understand and can never be mastered. You don’t ride grief through loss and tragedy. It rides you with a tight rein, and its spurs dug deep into your side, making breathing, eating, sleeping, and thinking hard. Eventually, you learn to tame it and walk beside it through the rest of your life. I don’t believe the grief of losing someone so close ever truly goes away. It fades and becomes quiet but still sits watching in the corner of your mind. From time to time, it steps from the shadows to bend or shape a thought or experience. Its appearances are random and often fleeting – it becomes easier to shoo grief back into its dark corner as time passes. But it’s always there, and that’s ok. I’m at the stage where I welcome those little moments of grief as they are usually paired with a precious memory or an important realisation.

Getting back to creative pursuits, I’ve realised that I still lack a connection with my photography and the desire to get out and capture images. It’s more than just seasonal blues or the lack of good light from day to day. There have been plenty of lovely days that are worth a street walk, but I can’t muster the capacity to grab a camera and head out. I know I shouldn’t force it or overly analyze the lack of motivation, as I will just get into a downward spiral of negativity. I’ve also had a lot on my mind lately that is a distraction – mostly family stuff. The Doctor and I are parents to five unique and wonderful kids – it’s hard to avoid family stuff when you’re a parent.

Speaking of things on my mind – and sloppy segways – I’ve also been distracted by persistent headaches. It’s a remnant of my cervical spinal issues that started two and a half years ago. While I’m 90% better and utterly free of opioids, I’ve still got some nerve damage that’s causing issues. I’ve had consistent headaches since the start of this year and am on the public hospital waiting list to have the nerves at the back of my skull neutralized. The headaches have become more problematic as time passes and the severity increases. Fingers crossed, I won’t have to wait too much longer to get it sorted.

The good news is I managed to get out with my camera over the weekend. I was having a very lazy day at home on Sunday, and around mid-afternoon was feeling restless. I decided to grab my Fujifilm X70 and travel into the city. It’s a five-minute walk to the local train station and then a fifteen-minute train ride to Flinders Street Station. On this occasion, I got off at Richmond and onto another train traveling through the underground City Loop. I stopped at Melbourne Central Station and made for the nearest ground-level exit. It was sunny with some patchy clouds and a little cool but still nice. The city was bustling, with shoppers making the most of the mid-afternoon light.

In the distance, I could hear whistles and drumming. The sound gradually drew closer, and I crossed Swanston Street to see a massive parade of people marching up the street. It was an anti-war protest: several hundred people marched from Collins Street towards the State Library opposite Melbourne Central. They were surrounded by many police, who also blocked off traffic from crossing Swanston Street. As the protest camera closer, it was easier to hear their chants, drums, and whistles as well as make out their placards and flags. I’m all for peaceful protest and the right to speak as one. And I won’t get into any form of commentary about the current conflict, protest, or the political debate over who is right or wrong. I will say that war is an ugly and monstrous machine with no winners other than the few privileged men who sit in tall towers ordering others to die.

As a society, we should have learned by now. As a species, we are destined to destroy one another. It’s sad and plants grief at the footsteps of too many people. I was raised in the safety of Australia – a country that’s had minimal conflict on its shores. I didn’t grow up to the sounds of air-raid sirens or learn how to make it safely to a bomb shelter. I can’t possibly comprehend the stress and trauma of living in a warzone. Or being displaced and facing the uncertainty of where shelter, food, water, or safety will next be found. What’s also important to point out is that I don’t know or understand the political, social, and religious history of the issues that cause wars.

I just know that war feeds grief like no other. And, having experienced my own grief and loss, it’s devastating to consider the scale of grief and despair that wars cause. While standing close to the street, I felt inspired to see the protestors peacefully marching and calling for an end to war. I was motivated to be there and document some of that process and experience. I watched and captured people interacting with their world in the hope of making a change for the better. I saw people of all ages from all walks of life united in a call to end war and the senseless grief it brings. How can that ever be a bad thing?