I gave this girl the name Savitri after the Hindu goddess of divine light and knowledge. She is a blind albino with glowing pink eyes and an extremely high IQ. I photographed her at the Dadar, School for the Blind in Mumbai (India).
I was the first photographer to be given permission to do so. For 3 days I worked with my camera producing a beautiful piece of works.
Upon my leaving the headmistress kindly asked the girl (Sivitri) to type in Braille a prayer of blessing for me and my work at the School. It took her just a few minutes to type this, initially in Hindi then in Sanskrit, the oldest and fastest disappearing languages on the planet.
Shot at the end of a "Squeeze Box" (aka accordion) festival in outback Queensland I noticed these two elderly people sitting and chatting in the corner of the hall. They looked beautiful. I wondered what their history was, I could tell they were not married, but they looked like they had shared something close - maybe a past romance...maybe the cardboard heart stuck up on the wall was a sign?
Suzy sits on her bed at home. Suzy is 52 years old and has always dressed like a girl. She has never been with a woman and has been in a sexual relationship with the same man for the past seven years. Suzy walks freely in Dili as a woman, and does not care about what people think. She has had the treatment to develop breasts and had the neck operation 25 years ago in Indonesia. She decided not to have the operation to remove her penis as she " would have had too much success with men wanting to try to have sex with her. She has an arrangement with the local padre that allows her to live near the church. She runs a salon where she cuts peoples hair for money. She does not have erections. Suzy feels like a woman." 1 November 2009.
So much of portraiture focuses primarily on the eyes... the eyes are "the window to the soul" is the cliche that has become almost a fixed canon in the craft. In this studio image I wanted to explore the sitter without reference to his eyes and still convey insights into his nature and soul. These two bodybuilders have trained together in the same gym, four times a week for the best part of a decade. In bodybuilding competitions they are fierce competitors against each other, but in this image a different story has been captured.
On a hot summer's day hundreds of people descend upon the tranquil beach/lagoon area at Wattamolla in Sydney's Royal National Park. It gets crowded but the thing I like about it is the diverse mix of ethnic backgrounds, Islanders, Lebenese, Greeks, Asians, Europeans etc etc all having fun together.
The rock jumps at Wattamolla are legendary. In this shot I captured a heavily tattooed bikie calmly spotting his next jump.
I have lived on a remote Aboriginal Community in the Western Desert of WA for the last decade and a half. The young fellas in this shot I have known since they were all babies and my own three boys have grown up in their company. Growing up with a strong western desert identity they are unique in Australia but share some of the same interests as many young guys in the country, going hunting and riding around in cars. These guys were all posing on this day as serious hunters with a slight overtone as "gangster." Minutes later they were all laughing about the shot.
This image of Brenton is a study in humankind's relationship with water, particularly the dark and mysterious nature of the ocean, perhaps even addressing the photographer's own fear of what lies silently below the surface.
"Water Man - Brenton" comes from a series of portraits shot in water, all shots using the Holga camera.
The lo-fi and random qualities of the plastic lens and inherent light leaks affect the film in a random way that seems to add new reflections and unpredictability to the watery surface, the sinister and treacherous domain of this water man.
At around four weeks old a baby loses its fragile and amophorous shape and you begin to feel their skeletal structure.
When I first felt the shoulder blades of my eldest son William, I told his mother that I could feel where the angel wings had once fitted.
My boy is now six and I see him the cherub but increasingly the knowingness in the eyes of the man he will one day become.
My great hope is that in my photographs of William, I have captured through my lens more than a moment in time but the total unconditional love I have for myboy and a time of pure , unadulterated innocence in his life.