Martin Downs

I've finally quit my day job (after years of thinking about it) to focus on my passion.  In the first week after me having the courage to do this I secured two clients so, inner confirmation I have done the right thing.  As yet I still haven't advertised my services to the wider community because I am still wading through a back log of things on the home front that never seemed to get done whilst in a 9-5 job, although still happy to accept word of mouth jobs.

Jacquie contacted me a while ago about photographing her family on their property at Martin Downs and now that all of the moons have aligned I was excited.  Essentially this is my first real gig of going 'professional'.  The girls aged 3 and 14 months were wonderful to work with after having to put up with me for over an hour. They are troupers for lasting the distance, in fact the whole family were. However, it's important to get as many photos as possible on location.

APS Honours

After submitting a portfolio of 20 images to the judges, I have finally attained my LAPS honours with the Australian Photographic Society.  I am very proud of my achievement after working tirelessly toward this goal for years.  It will be announced at APSCON at Port Macquarie, NSW in September.

Chloe & Zac

Apprehensively, I attend this home with two young 'uns. It's been quite some time since I've photographed two kids under 3 before. In fact, the last time was with my own kids, like I said... quite some time as they are now 8 and 10. It's great to photograph them in there own home where they are most comfortable, but I have good reason to be nervous. I've forgotten what it's like with a one year old. Little Zac is on the go the whole time. Using flash will freeze all that activity, but I am one eyed about using natural light for better quality pictures. As a result I cull about 50% of the photos due to motion blur, but am left with plenty to show mum and she

is more than happy with the pictures. For what Zac lacks in a sedentary lifestyle, he sure makes up for it in the smiles department and his older sister, Chloe, is just a natural pose for me. I expect things to go pear shaped rather quickly as they do at this age (this much I do remember), but the energizer batteries keep

on going on for hours! Thanks so much for letting me be your family's photographer!

Red Bubble

The Marsh Family

A big thank you goes to the Marsh's for being a great family to photograph.  All dressed in a casual black and white colour scheme I took their portraits on our farm.  Amongst other locations, I also managed to get some shots at the haybales before the roos and sheep ate though it all over the summer, I did however have to invest some time sweeping away the droppings beforehand! It's all part of country charm I guess and nobody expects to stay clean for very long!  A perfect sitting with all being very cooperative and willing subjects...a pleasure to work with.

Troy & Hester

Well the big day for my cousin Hester has finally arrived. As I arrive at my uncle John's house in Gosnells the girls are busy getting there make up on. It was great to see my cousin Marilyn again, who has flown in from Melbourne. Later at the ceremony I would see my cousin Leon who has flown in from Darwin. Understandably, none of us see each other that often, so it was great for this opportunity to be around at this special time. I also have the added advantage of having an assistant this time too. Her name is "mum". Things are pretty relaxed in the household.....that is until Hes tries the dress on. Now I must stress that every wedding has it's own dynamics and hiccups. This one is no different.

The problem here is Hester's corset is riding above her strapless dress line.  My mum, an expert sewer, comes to the rescue with needle and thread and saves the day.  The drama causes me to leave the house late which means I miss pictures of the groom and groomsmen waiting for Hes to arrive.  If I thought I was late leaving the house, I have no words for how late I was getting to the ceremony.  Unfortuneately, my mum's sewing skills bear no correlation whatsoever to her navigation skills, which I completely entrusted her to do.

Flashbacks of us two driving around southern Portugal instantly cause me to go into a spasmodic meltdown, but I manage to calm down when Mum's phone rings and it turns out we are in the right spot and Hester is waiting in the car just around the corner.  In my mind we are 15 hours late, but in fact we are only about 15 minutes late, but that's standard industry practice for the bride isn't it?  For anyone reading this and contemplating me doing their photography, I promise I won't bring my mum to your wedding! I'm glad to say the rest of the day went along wonderfully and the reception at the Left Bank Hotel in East Fremantle was just awesome!

Walking With Lions

Zimabawe is a beautiful nation which has the capacity to be self sufficient. However, under the rule of its current dictator, Robert Mugabe, who lines his owns pockets with extorted wealth, the supermarkets shelves are empty and his countrymen and women are forced to eat scaps from rubbish dumps just to survive. Meanwhile rich government officials act as the mafia to local businesses. This is why I don't condo

ne travel to Zimbabwe with the current situation. Inflation at this time was around 2000%, but now (2009) it is about 100 times that and typhoid fever is rife with no medicines the treat the masses. Despite this, my tour started in Victoria Falls, rather than in Livingstone, a couple of kilometres away across the Zambezi in Zambia, which would have been preferable.

One can be forgiven for assuming the main attraction in Victoria Falls is the waterfall. While the thunderous might of the falls are impressive, it doesn’t compare with experiencing a lifelong dream whilst in town. With some time to kill before my main camping tour to Cape Town commences, I visit the tourist centre. There is a plethora of tours to choose from, ranging from joy flights and elephant rides to bunging jumping off the striking Victoria Falls Bridge. Far from being an adrenalin junkie, I want something more sedentary and after noticing the cute lion posters on the walls it doesn’t take long to decide. After fantasising about my favourite childhood movie Born Free, I excitedly rush back to camp clutching my Walk With Lions pamphlet. At dawn the next day I travel by minibus with a small group of tourists to a conservation park about an hour away. Over a fabulously strong coffee, we are given a tedious lecture on lion behaviour and safety. I start to day dream and wonder if my tourist dollars are going directly to the conservation of wildlife or into the pockets of corrupt government officials. Suddenly some one thrust a big stick into my hand as everyone moves to dutifully follow the guide through the scrub over meandering dirt tracks. Perhaps we need the stick to steady ourselves in case things get rugged.

The guide points out various footprints the different wild life make along the way. After twenty minutes and no sign of any lions, my impatience is exacerbated by the ever present flies becoming more intense with the heat of the day. The stroll is frustratingly punctuated as the ranger finds elephant faeces. With incredible fascination the guide dissects it with his bare hands and imparts facts on pachyderm cuisine. I get increasingly agitated as I think the offending elephant is eating through my quality lion time as. Also tiring of the David Attenborough style documentary, the group continues the search as we negotiate our way through the unforgiving sharp, thorny acacias swishing away flies attracted by the moisture forming on everyone’s brow. My mind wanders to colonial explorer, Livingstone, and the hardships he must’ve endured as he slashed his way through the ‘dark continent’. What was with those ridiculous pith helmets anyway? My corduroy hat gets hopelessly stuck on a sharp thorny acacia and I take great care to extract it lest I stab my finger. My persistence pays off as the animated ranger elatedly exclaims ‘there’s Tamagunge and his twin brother.’

The delightful five month old cubs trot side by side towards us. They take refuge from the encroaching heat and rest in the shade. The whole group swarms around them and act like panthera paparazzi as everyone’s shutter clicks in unison. The cubs patiently wait as everyone has their turn in having a picture taken with them. It is my turn next and I am instructed to stand behind the cubs. Eagerly I crouch down behind Tamagunge to pat him. Unlike my furry feline friend back home, I’m surprised to feel his rough and very coarse fur. In contrast to the other tourists, the young predator loses patience and upon my vigorous caresses he takes it as a cue to be playful. He becomes particularly mischievous and starts play biting my wrist putting his paw on my forearm to gain leverage. Suddenly, the wise words of the authoritative park ranger emerge from my subconscious, ‘One playful swipe from a five month old cub can cause some serious damage’.

I don’t know what to do. A smack on the nose like I would my pet cat might cause him to get vicious and make the situation worse. Desperately I try to channel the infamous naturalist, Joy Adamson’s persona to gain control and confidence. It is useless, I am starting to panic and remember all too well ‘they can smell fear and prey on the vulnerable’ warning as I ponder imminent mauling. Luckily the capable guide springs into action and calmly motions me to put my stick across his scary incisors to prevent serious injury to my limb. Phew, that was close I thought and sigh in utter relief. Back at the lodge the adrenalin induces a wild hunger, making me fully appreciative of the hearty cooked breakfast awaiting us in the open air viewing deck. After refreshing the palate with a platter of cold tropical fruit, I digested the events of the previous hours and tried to recall if Joy Adamson ever had a stick for protection. I bet she didn’t. Sipping on freshly brewed coffee and overlooking the fresh African dawn I reflect further. I gained a healthy new respect for the continent’s ferocious big cats but maybe tomorrow I should book the fishing tour instead. I’m sure they don’t have Piranhas in Africa.