I am a Melbourne based writer, primarily of speculative fiction. I find the writing process fascinating; the links below include examples of my work, fiction and non fiction, but also another story. How has a chapter evolved? How have places and the fictions of others informed and inspired my own. How do I research, develop ideas and turn them into narrative? Each page offers a different insight into the work and the story behind the work.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Urban fairies in the mirror

Yesterday I walked along Little Lonsdale Street, along near the top edge of the central area of Melbourne. I had noticed earlier in the day how many mirrored windows there are on the RMIT campus where I work (the three photographs above). I and had spent a short time photographing some of them on my way back to the office from delivering some documents. I gained a taste of the reflected world during those few minutes, but I was rushed and it was not enough.

I have been spending so much time with my eye and camera lens focused mainly at street level of late I think whatever part of my consciousness is involved with discovering and capturing the world in the photographic frame, needed to experience a certain sense of liberation. Yet somehow photographing aspects of the city above eye level directly felt unsatisfying, and the reflections I had seen earlier were still intriguing me.

Reflections are always less bright than their original twins, and they are a kind of illusion, so in a sense it is a little strange that I might try to find liberation in them... or was I seeking escape?

But I suppose mirrored surfaces also transmit a sense of expanded dimension and of angles and views that cannot be otherwise experienced from where one is standing. This is especially the case with reflections in mirrored glass high up on tall buildings; sometimes there is a sense as though one can see what only a soaring bird might see.

There were many examples of reflections, both closer to the ground and upon surfaces a dizzy distance above the head along Little Lonsdale Street and I hungrily sought them as I progressed from east to west across the city.

There are a selection of the photographs I took below.

When I look at most of them I experience a warm feeling of intrigue and even a little dash of mischievousness.  I cannot quite explain why, but somehow it feels as though these are photographs of fairies or unidentified and mysterious beings, not precise lines of architecture and inanimate artificial surfaces.

But then, the glass is not perfect and the reflections shimmer and even sparkle at times. The city may not have any fairies and magical beings, but in these reflections, for me at least, are glimpses of a city that has.

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