The Coming Glow

.

My days often start like this. Alone, but full with quiet and colour. What’s there meets me uninterrupted; I feel the cool of a night just been and the stillness of a city yet properly started. It’s a world languid and fleeting and I hold what I can.

Minutes pass like moments and my day begins. Tea, ablutions, and then other things that you’ll know too well yourself.

TT

.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Nerdy part – This is a picture I’ve taken before. I just wanted to use the LX3 to see how it stood up against my SLR. It did well. However, for a full resolution view of this joyous postcard moment, follow the Flickr link.

.

Baby Gorillapod mounted, LX3, ISO100, f/7.1, 1 second

Cosy

.

I saw this man when I stopped for a consolatory drink after a thwarted photo shoot. The disappointment of unmet expectations, an itchy trigger finger and the prospect of going home empty handed made this simple intrusion foregone.

Before, the homeless made for easy, memorable pictures: strikingly unkempt, wildly dressed, human, accessible – the exotic between us. They’ve also the rewarding aspect of a ready, low key drama, the type their appearance and status inevitably endows, the way they make misfortune visible.

Now it’s harder deal altogether. This particular kind of exile, a sharp friend succinctly noted, ‘…has become a cliche, a first port-of-call for photography students.’ He’s right, of course, but for me there’s the their-tragedy-our-spectacle part that is the great dissuader. Whereas if their plight becomes your mission then that’s a different story, go ahead, fire away.

But what sealed it for me with the guy above was the groovy way in which he wore his cold weather proofing. Not only did he eschew the usual and ungainly cardboard boxes, but his unorthodox quilt-wrap style lent him a certain Teletubby cool, a cosy cartoon plumpness that enabled me to overlook the all the concerns outlined here and reach for my camera.

.

Quickly unholstered: LX3, ISO400, f2.8, 1/40

To and Fro

.

“Young schoolgirls pressing against me, they’re usually soft and smell good. That’s not so bad. In fact, it can be quite nice but of course, it’s mostly salary men, all bad breath, sweat and hard edges, their elbows and cases and other stuff sticking in me. There’s a big groan when we all push together, finding space where there is none. Summer is the worst, it’s tight and hot and the aircon does nothing. I feel like I’m going to pass out. Maybe I do. I often sleep standing up.”

.

Unidentified Office Worker, Tokyo, August 07

JR East, Passenger Survey Report

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

.

For as long as I have lived here, inextricably bound to Tokyo life is the rail commute. Crowded carriages and platforms, teeming with restless suits and side-partings, obediently filing off and on – it’s another picture of the city. I think of it and then of a lifeblood, coursing through intricate arterial passages: the rush, the squeeze, the push, the movement, the pause…the repeat; a cycle so persistent, vital and dull. Everyday I join this same flow and catch the same trains, taking some of that slight and precious space with my average size, case and coat. I get on when the doors yawn open, adding my weight to a load already full. And weary, too. Between faces spent and empty I find some standing room only. The movement begins and the travel resumes. I am being carried again. Then through the glass a familiar footage is ignored. My eyes start to close, I lean and drift, the cradle-sway of transit is soothing. I fall asleep and the journey goes.

.

Both pictures featured come from the LX3.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

.

Embedded, deep cover style – the author as commuter