« Niaouli | Main | Mont Humboldt - that voice in my head »

Friday, September 19, 2008


Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.


Bloody great photos. I especially like the one with the moon in the daylight. Nicely framed.

Philip Gleeson

Thanks Tom. I like that one too, and that one only involved moving round a bit to get the framing just right. It wasn't dangerous to take at all, although there were some funny looks from passing motorists who were no doubt curious what I could be doing beside the road with a tripod and telephoto lens.

Teresa Gilman

Wow. Makes my heart open up wide to see these shots. Very beautiful. I'd think they're worth getting a little banged up for.


Philip Gleeson

Thanks Teresa. Every time I have a shower I discover a new bruise that I barely remember inflicting upon myself, but I guess I assume that my body will recover once I'm back home.

I love your blog, although I'm embarrassed to say that I have never left a comment on it. Back when I was really down, I wrote a long entry on my feelings, mostly to myself, although I did end up sending it to my closest friend back home. An edited down version made it into my blog as http://jungletrekker.typepad.com/adventures_in_the_wild/2008/09/la-plage-de-la.html but in the editing process the following paragraph, expressing much better how impressed I was by your writing, didn't make it into the wider world, but I think I'm brave enough to post it now.

Following my second attempt to fix my camera in the car, I had an extreme emotional reaction. I just needed to get out of Nouméa, just drive, and escape the suffocation of my situation. That morning I had been reading a blog that I found through links on Jarrett’s; raw, achingly beautiful prose written by a woman I had never met, alive to experience, short on pictures but long on honesty, and it highlighted for me what a sham was the blog that I had just started. My blog was only a day old, and I could already see its likely demise, for if I was to use this as a medium to communicate to my parents, to my work colleagues, even to some of my friends, then I just wasn’t ready for the sort of emotional honesty that would make it actually worth reading, and therefore worth writing. So the troubles with my camera were just a catalyst forcing me to accept reality, and the only response I could think of was to flee, to open myself up to experience, to stop trying so hard to constrain the narrative of this trip, of my experience, structured around a desire to be engaging and instead to just drift and go wherever my wanderings would take me. If in my loneliness and despair I had lost the inclination to explore nature, then so be it.

Teresa Gilman

Philip, thanks for telling me this. I assume you read the post about the walk (July) with my boxer pal.



The second photo has an archetypal quality ... it looks like something one would see in a flight simulator -- terrain realistic but in a heightened and abstracted way.

The comments to this entry are closed.