Mid Life

In just under three weeks, I’ll be turning 40. I don’t have an issue with aging. I know I’ll do it disgracefully and I have no issue with that. What I do have an issue with is doing a job I hate, working for the man to spend the rest of my life struggling financially.


I asked a question on my Twitter this morning; ‘In this day and age: what’s the point of being a good and helpful person? Really, I’d like to know why I waste my time.’

I asked this because last night a buxom, burlesque dancer that I photographed for free as part of an event asked me to remove the photos I had taken of her because of ‘unflattering angles’. She asked me to leave a couple as they where beautiful. I had carefully selected all the photos posted so as not to show skin rolls (no easy task), smiles (plenty of those) and to show the very essence of her performance. Despite her size she had grace, elegance and dancing skills of a woman considerable smaller. I removed all the photos I had taken.

I give my time for free because I enjoy taking pictures in a challenging environment (lots of movement, bad lighting and having to ask people if they'd like their photo taken). In total I spend three hours at the event (it's a fortnightly thing), then up to three hours processing the pictures. It usually costs me $10 to park the car, plus the petrol to and from the event. So when asked ‘as an artist I have to careful of how I’m seen’, I say, as an artist and someone who isn’t being paid, I was doing you a favour by giving you free publicity, so you get nothing’.

I’m sick of ungrateful people, just taking. It seems that the world has more of them these days

When Leo Durocher said, ‘Nice guys finish last’, I’m sure he was talking about baseball, but you know what, I’ve come to the conclusion it’s in all walks of life.

I’ve lived my life as a good person. I help old ladies out, I ask homeless people, ‘have you eaten today?’ and follow through when they say no. I volunteer my time to a number of non for profit organisations. And you know, when I try and do something for me, I get nothing back. So I’m taking it back. I’m not going to commit to anymore volunteer things that cost me money. I’m going to do something for me and anyone with an opinion can go f*ck themselves.

I’m not saying I don’t have a few supporters, I do, and thank you to those of you that ‘get’ me.

So this is my plan.

I’m going to get a part-time job and study full time. I may, if I have to, sell everything of value that I own and get a housemate (that really is the last resort).

I think I can cope with a job I hate if I only have to do it three days a week.

I haven’t brought a sports car or a flash motorbike…but I do believe this is what they call a midlife crisis

Finally something the middle classed white lady can talk about at stand-up comedy!

Snug

No one would ever accuse me of being a domestic goddess.

I’m the first to admit I have better things to do than dust, sort, clean and wash.  Like sitting on the sofa doing crochet or reading a good book.  Things I actually enjoy.

Every now and then though I get the urge to clean, sort and wash.  I like to throw open the windows, crank up the tunes and get stuck into it. On Friday when I left work, it was chilly but clear skies.  I was revved up for a weekend chucking stuff out, filling the house with fresh air and finally being able to see the top of my desk.

But conditions needed to be right.

Rain of any sort kills the urge, dead.  Torrential rain just makes me want to hibernate like a bear, tucked into my warm, dry pit.  Eating beans from a tin while wearing baggy tracksuit bottoms and wearing Uggs.  Only going outside to get more wood for the fire.

I have been eating things other than beans, but the clothing of choice has involved sheepskin boots and I have been tucked up on the sofa.  The cats have been happy with this arrangement also.

If I didn’t have to get up and go photograph an event tonight I think I would stay in bed.  It’s warm here.  It’s dry here and I can listen to the sound of the falling rain in the comfort of knowing it isn’t going to get me.

Flower in my garden with fly and raindrops

The rapid pitter patter that ebbs and flows.  The tin roof amplifying the sound of every droplet that lands on it.  Watching the sky’s teardrops chase each other down the window to the ground. 

I like these things from the inside when tucked up snug as a bug in a toasty cocoon.

A Purpose

I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to be doing something meaningful with my life.

Writing plans and communicating with people who are essentially not interested in my message has taken its toll. I’m completely disillusioned with what I do. Change management is still relatively new to the corporate world and it’s still the first thing to when a project runs into financial difficulty. As a contractor, this instability is doing my head in. Plus, the role I’m doing at the moment is leaving me cold.

Yesterday, I went to Renbury Farm to take pictures of the pussy cats and other creatures that have been taken there either but their owners who don’t want them anymore or have been found and impounded until reclaimed or rehomed.

There are many deserving furbabies there, as there always is, but when I came to take a few pictures of doggies, I broke down in tears when one surrendered boy, medium sized, white and champagne coloured, looked up at me, but would not get eye contact. I looked at his sheet. Good with children, no barking, no fence jumping, toilet trained and good on a lead. The reason he was there. ‘We have no time to spend with him’. He was wedged in the corner of his pen, shaking and confused why he was there.

I cried all the way home. I tear up as I write just thinking about him. I want to call them and say I’ll pick him up next week, but it’s in no practical. I just want to help.
I find myself thinking about roles I can do in Not for Profit organisations that will help. Help anyone or anything.

Maybe this is why I’m leaning towards the celebrant work so much, after all it a form of help. Helping happy couple make their dream wedding happen. Helping grieving family lay their loved one to rest.

I need to win the lottery so I can quit work and volunteer part-time. Anyone know the numbers?

New Years Day

I started my year with music and photography. I went to Field Day at the Domain.

Of the 31 acts playing I’d heard of three. Moby, Calvin Harris and Gotye. As I was lucky enough to have a photo pass I was able to take photos while wandering around amongst the crowd.

I took advantage of this and decided to do a Street Fashion shoot for Fashion Studio. It was fun, because by 1.30pm most of the 20 something crowd where already a little or lot drunk. Most of the girls were in short shorts and even shorter tops and the boys were wearing much the same.
These Guys support Oscar's Law, so they can't be all bad

I saw two acts that I haven’t seen before New Navy and Spank Rock. New Navy was more to my taste.
Calvin Harris on Stage

I tested the waters with the photo pass and got into the Pit for Calvin Harris. I got a couple of good shots, but the set up of the stage made it hard for me to get the perfect shot. It was fun and so loud I could feel my glasses vibrating on the bridge of my nose. It was awesome, but I really must remember earplugs the next time I do this.

I got taken backstage about 5pm. I hung out with a few friends and met a few new ones…I love meeting new people. At 5.40 I went into the pit again and photographed the Goyte set. Being the type of festival that Field Day is, he played his more upbeat, drum heavy, toe tapping songs. Again my glasses got to jumping, and one of the girls in the front row laughed because I knew all the songs. She’s asked, ‘How do get a job like that?’

I replied, ‘persistence, practice and a little talent’.
'In your Light' by Gotye
I came away from the day sunburnt, but very happy and I got some great photos

Street Walker

I’ve come to the conclusion that the human race can be a pretty unhelpful bunch, but I also like that they can be nice too.

I know this, because I have days the same, but I have recognised this in myself and have developed ways to say, ‘Thanks, but bugger off’, without actually saying it.

As a way to develop my photography skills I do unpaid work for a website called Fashion Studio. This involves me going out onto the streets of Sydney and looking at fashion trends. Unfortunately, due to privacy laws, I have to seek permission before taking pictures. This is a shame for a few reasons;

1. Often the best fashionista is having a bad hair/bad handbag/bad ‘breakout’ day. This usually means they look fabulous and to mere mortals they appear to have nothing wrong or out of place on their perfectly quaffed head.
2. They are in a hurry. This is usually a the person mentioned above who has until the moment you approach them been gliding along with ethereal grace, clearly in no hurry to get to their destination.
3. They completely ignore you. Politely, you say, ‘excuse me.’ They pretend they haven’t heard, I like being ignored, it’s gives me such a happy joy-joy feeling.
4. They tell you to ‘f*** off’. This is always very pleasant and will often issue before I’ve even said ‘Excus...
5. They say, ‘would you mind if I said no?’ Pretty hard to argue with. I tried once, I replied with, ‘Yes, I would, terribly.’ She was a number 1, she looked stunning, but she still said no, I let her go.
6. They try to pose, it never looks natural.

This is how I approach.

‘Excuse me, my name if is Jodie and I’m a fashion photographer.’ If this get one of the responses from above, I start looking for the next desirable. If they stop, I know I’m in with a 70/30 chance of getting a picture.

I go on to explain. ‘I work for Fashion Studio, an online magazine that looks at how catwalk fashion translate to street wear. Today we’re looking at xyz and I could help but notice your stunning/fabulous/amazing xyz’.

A lot are flattered, as they should be, some not so, and decline in a variety of ways

They will then ask, ‘Do I just stand here?’ So I’ll suggest a twist of the hip and look at the camera. They like that it slims them down, I like that it naturally get them putting their best foot forward (good for nice shoes) and get them to relax and maybe giggle a bit. Occasionally this doesn’t work and the full length shot looks awful, in that case I’ll take a waist up shot.

After the picture has been taken I give them a sheet that contains details of the site, my name and a URL of the site and tell them they can view their picture in the next couple of days. They go away smiling, enjoying the moment of spontaneity.

Personally if I was approached by a ‘fashion photographer’ and told what I was wearing was the height of fashion, I’d be happy to pose. The whole process that about 3 minutes. I’m not selling anything and not getting you sign up to support a charity with a regular monthly withdrawal of funds. What I notice is, that a lot of people will not even take the time to find out.

If I have the info sheet visible at ‘Excuse me’ I get a higher rate of Number 4, than if I highlight the camera, then bring out the info. Paper = selling in people’s minds.

This is not the first time I have had to solicit. I’ve done market research, I canvassed for the Alpaca Association and recently I’ve started doing voluntary work for an animal welfare group. Never selling, always offering information or offering something for free. So I’ve been on the receiving end of the general public’s wrath for a number of causes, so while I expect abuse of varying degrees, I’m still not used to it. I have learnt not to behave in a rude manner, I either do not make eye contact (the first rule of selling stuff) or I politely decline. If it’s charity, I explain I have my list of five each year and I review at Christmas. Happy to take a leaflet. Of course I do donate to charity, but it’s an ad-hoc thing and it’s rarely the big charities that spend hundreds of thousands on paying backpackers in Martin Place. Often, it’ll just be someone asking directions.

So please give this some thought next time you are approached by a stranger on a busy street.

Ask not what you can do for them, but what they can do for you.

In my case, you might just get a few minutes of fame.

PS. Thank you to the 16 lovely ladies that said 'Yes, I'd love too' today, two of whom are about.