Snapshots are my favourite form of photography. Perhaps this has come about from trying to capture my cat on film (he is notoriously difficult to shoot), but I think it’s because of how snapshot photography makes me feel. I can usually immediately summon the situation, the people, and the feeling of any moment that has been snapped, plus the candid nature of both the subject and the photographer is on show. My Dad has said the same thing in the past – “Scenery is nice, but I always take second and third looks at the photos with people in them.”
These are some of my favourite snapshot photos that I have taken, photos that would end up on my desk when I worked in call centres, along with a couple of favourites that my friends took. I can look at these and immediately remember where I was and who I was with.

I didn’t take this one, I was too nervous to go up to Patrick from Motor Ace to ask for his photo. My friend Amy has more courage than me!
(Motor Ace Farewell Gig as The Perseverance Hotel)

Jane borrowed these sunglasses from the boy whose reflection is in the mirror.
(Parkville)

Not picture, the tambourine shaped bruise Bad Laura inflicted on Jane’s head
(Geek! at Laundry)

Nick and Zac accurately representing 3AM
(coming from The Tote Hotel going to Pony after The Wellingtons farewell fundraiser)

This photo made me feel like a rockstar photographer, and I do believe it’s still printed up on some fridges around Brunswick
(The Hovercrafts at The Rob Roy Hotel, the second time I saw them, ever!)

Steve (and Alannah). This one is an example of what the photo says about the photographer, I used to go out with this guy and I always thought that this photo made it really obvious
(arriving at Pony after The Wellingtons farewell fundraiser)

Flash! Jane! It was either this photo or the one of my brother falling down
(Houseparty at The Rad Pad)

Red Hot Leonie! This photo, and another one a little lower down, have not been edited digitally. This was a gig at Revolver, where the band projected 3D films onto the wall and sold 3D glasses, with the red and the blue lenses. So we were mucking around with that. (One of the photos actually ended up being used on a band poster later on!)
(Johnny Rock at Revolver in 3D)

Franco och Tash i Vegas. I didn’t take this one, but was one of many who agreed it’s a lovely shot
(It’s Vegas Baby at The Rad Pad)

The coolest couple in indie rock, Johnny and Kasia
(Johnny Rock and The Limits at Revolver in 3D)
xoxo Nyssa on the 22nd May, 2010 | no comments
filed under COSC1010
and tagged with | johnny rock and the limits, laundry, motor ace, photography, pony, revolver, skybombers, snapshots, the hair, the hovercrafts, the wellingtons
My New Year’s Resoultion was Quality Not Quantity, and you know what, it’s taken me this long to break it, but I don’t think I feel that bad about it. I was applying it to everything, shopping, textiles to make things with, and to alcohol in a big way. I’m not being a snob and I’m certainly not being a grown up, but I’ve decided that two Mountain Goats are better than a six pack of Carltons and my head in the toilet. Of course, once you’re out on the town drinking your posh bevvies, sometimes it’s still hard to tell when to stop.
Friday Night was out with work mates. We headed to Dockland’s restaurant Berth for a work sponsored meal of, well, basically any cuisine we considered, it was that type of menu. Nat had the fish, Ben had the steak, I had the risotto, Hayley the chicken… jack of all trades, master of none, really. Portion size was good, not too big, and forty bones covered the main, some starters, a delectable dessert of chocolate moose cake, and we squeezed a couple of drinks on there too. I do have to defend working for a large corporation as they like to look after their employees. Bless ‘em!
From there, we whittled our group down to four of us, myself, Nat and Hayley, and team leader Francis. It’s been suggested I think about these things too much, but being responsible for picking a bar in a town like Melbourne is a lot of pressure. The main concern for me is, are they going to love it as much as I do, or is it going to let everyone down? We all agreed we needed a rooftop to lap up the gorgeous weather, and headed straight for the best one I know, Madame Brussels. (I once saw Andy Lee there and now consider it lucky). It was a very busy rooftop, so after a mint-heavy punch, we hit up Lily Blacks, a recommendation from my brother, for some top shelf spirits and beers. Next we needed a dancefloor, and after a couple of drinks, why wouldn’t you pick The Elephant and Wheelbarrow?
It’s been a long time since I’ve even been in a place like that, where the bouncers pick the troublemaker patrons up by the scruff of the neck like you do to a cat and throw them out. The cheese music and the dwindling dickhead factor meant there was some groove room, our party grew as friends joined us, including aforementioned brother Jared, and it turned out, gulp, okay! They started to shut down, so we went to old favourite, Pony. Oh, Pony, how could you let me down? No patrons, no band? After knocking on the doors of Eurotrash, Roxanne and The Ding Dong Lounge, we ended our night at Lounge. I’m making this all sound like it was quite early, but Jared drove me home at 5am, so it’s really a credit to Melbourne that any of this could happen without having to resort to Revolver or anything.
The following day, the mercury turned up the quantity a good 45 degrees Celsius or so. As Neil and I walked through the Docklands on the way to a barbeque, the wind whipped by so ferociously that it burned any skin you had exposed. I was just waiting for a little black and white house from Kansas to sweep by at any moment.
Refuge was found at Neil’s mates’ place, Greg and Adam. Greg and Adam are a part of the same rag-tag football (soccer) team that Neil is a part of; a bunch of ex-pat Brits, the odd Swede and Scot and such, kicking around Albert Park on a Sunday. (Actually, the last year or so has seen them become a registered team in a league, with a proper kit and everything, so it is growing upwards). It was a classic bachelor barbeque, with red meat, bread rolls, and a limp salad that remained forgotten once the meat was served. We recapped on the festival season so far, amazed at how many people hated Laneway so much.
I’ve often ragged on the Docklands, especially when the restaurant I ate at last night felt like it had a great view of Darling Harbour, but the apartments are modern and very chic, even with Ralph calendars on the wall. We were out of the heat and on top of the city. Once the cool change came, we headed for Flemington, to celebrate a first home and the engagement of two of Neil’s friends, Nicola and Jared.
Here, we stuffed our faces with prawns, as many salads as we could, and fresh fruits like watermelon and pineapple. Just as a bit of follow up from previous posts, I was discussing America Unchained with one of Neil’s workmates Dave, who shares the opposite opinion of Dave Gorman and Danny Wallace. Dave prefers Gorman, as he feels Wallace was just jumping on a bandwagon, which is an interesting take and I like it.
After such a mixed bag of a weekend, bars here, barbeques there, these friends and those friends, it was nice to relax this evening with some noodles in a box, some lemonade, a film, and, ironically enough, a bag of M&M’s that were all yellow.






