The waves and layers of rock in this image seem to create their own sense of movement, almost as though the volcanic basalt at Flinders Blowhole, Cape Schanck, is flowing rather than standing still. The textures rise and fall like frozen waves, giving the rock an unexpected rhythm and a sense of motion.
Recently, I received some thoughtful feedback from an old acquaintance about my photography blogs. He suggested that perhaps I should start thinking in terms of smaller, more focused projects rather than always trying to photograph the landscape as a whole.
The idea has stayed with me.
Photography has always been something I can become slightly obsessed with—perhaps a particular kind of wave motion in the ocean, the way water threads itself through rocks, or the old fascination I once had with searching for abandoned sea caves and photographing their entrances from the inside looking out. These little obsessions seem to give my photography a purpose beyond simply finding another beautiful landscape.
Perhaps that is what I need now: small projects with very narrow themes, enough to stimulate the creative part of my brain again. After all, I have spent decades photographing Victoria's landscapes. I know many of these places almost too well. I have returned to the same coastlines, rocks, beaches and forests so many times that sometimes I wonder whether I am discovering anything new—or merely revisiting what I already know.
Maybe the answer is not to keep looking for bigger landscapes, but to look more closely.
A micro project can begin with something almost ridiculously specific: a particular form of wave movement, a certain texture in basalt, forgotten entrances to sea caves, weathered concrete, or the strange relationship between water and rock. The subject itself may be tiny, but the possibilities within it can be surprisingly deep.
And that is what appeals to me about this photograph. At first glance, it is simply a piece of volcanic rock at Cape Schanck. Yet I have never really seen another photograph from this particular location that explores the rocks in quite this way. It is not the iconic Flinders Blowhole that I am photographing, but a small, overlooked detail within a place I have visited many times.
Perhaps this is where my photography needs to go next.
Not necessarily farther, but deeper.
After decades of photographing the landscape, perhaps it is time to stop trying to photograph everything—and start becoming obsessed with something very small.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Linking Water H2O Thursday
