Cramon(d) How continental.

Last thursday the 17th was international Dani day, so i grabbed the nearest one and sought to celebrate as best I could. We took the bus to a dewy, goooowwwwwlden Cramond, poked about its peer, strolled through the kirkyard and languished alongside the almond estuary before it was obvious that we were nearly exercising.

Ol' Dano's no stranger to the camera. Bringing her own along for the spin, we managed (i think) to test a single exposure before its power was taken by a very tragic and unavoidable fate...of not being charged for 3weeks. ( Hey,  im just as bad)

She's no friend to the camera either. Another hard sell, comfortable enough to be herself but wary, verrry wary, of a guy as despicable as me who'll wait all night for you to stick out your tongue, or to take your picture mid speech. And rightly so.

 

 

  

Oh dan, she's your only man.

Moving up.

Building on some brilliant portrait research last year, and with the madly creative encouragement of Sola, we had some fun last week.

Spot the difference? Be my guest. But it is a funny lesson in creativity. Sometimes exactly mirroring something can be far less enjoyable than rolling in off the cuff.
So we rolled in off of the cuff and it was really really funny!

 

 Shirt, tie and whole packet of gum: model's own

Living for the weekend

Major action packed end-of-week full of debaucherous liaisons and half coherent sentences!?
Oh ho ho ho!

Anything but for the protagonist Eoin Carey...
             ....our story picks up with him at his computer, destitute, not hours from his last post...

Saturday: the day of play. OR the day of rest. Mainly: the day of choice. And what a choice in Scotland's capital! Should you chose to stay in it at all that is and give its lush, undulating surrounds a miss, the curious winding terrain and its friendly denizens prove ample for a young man to while away his hours in trendy luxury. Why could it be then on such a prosaic day for the many, did our protagonist find himself on the verge of nothing to do what-soever!? Try as he may, his fine woman abroads and with money in his belt, could he not find a tuppence of play to be had?

His finest coat and hood aboard, not a chance encounter could he tempt. Dispersed of destinations, he took to the streets, a man about town, waiting for fancy to take him. But take him it didn't, and he soon felt the pull of lethargy at his slacks and the chill of inertia there at his heels. Many a steamed up moonshine he passed, already at capacity. No room for an extra. Not a stranger at his phone's end.
Food then, the priority rose. And onward he searched: something fine to be treated, but something comely, some damn place that could welcome an odd fellow at his leisure, and his book to boot. On and on, traversing the pinnacle of George's and sinking down down, into the bowels of the new town.
Finally fed and ale'd, but yet not satisfied, on our hero marched. Casting aside his intellectual feather and stretching through the bars of ignorance, he wound up at hells door, where he long knew he would. He paid the price to enter. He was charged a surplus for the glasses. And reduced now to a child, he sank away and hour and four halves in the dark, numbing world...of Avatar.

Emerging onto the streets, cold with night, he stumbled on. No trace of his former self...except a pair of darkened 3D shades..obscuring his torment and making him appear visually impaired.

 

"Will dance for fun"

Processing...

And thus is it all about at the moment.  Not a good whine at how time consuming post-pro is, cos i could whine away but i'd be wasting valuable editing time:) But along the same lines i feel the same. Like an exhausting editing session that, i'm sure, could be ended very quickly with sketched results. Or drawn out through growing knowledge, prompts and tips and a scratch disc of trial and error. The latter, the F A R less tempting path, is really the only one. And i'm chuntering along, wishing i could be further ahead, but knowing that it would do me damage. What a conflict!

It seems very lofty (and horrific) that i've got my eyes set on next Christmas when i make the excursion home and think about what became of a very short year. 2009 saw some very interesting things. 'Oh ten, i am so excited to guess, will only be incomparable. Just the truly mad scope of what im getting myself into i can hardly rationalise.  Icant wait to fly through it all so i can look back and go oooh! No, i wouldn't be so flagrant with my precious time on this planet. What have i got for the meantime though?
Well...