Ingo Hansen returns to the desert opal mining town where he grew up, struggling with his health and searching for answers. At a crossroads in his life, he seeks comfort in reminiscing the impact of the harsh landscapes and crazy adventures he had in Andamooka - one of the most remote places in South Australia.
Ingo soon realises that the thriving outback town he once loved is now bleak and it mercilessly parallels his own impermanence; the harsh winds of life blow not just on the desert but also inside his heart. In its glory days Andamooka had over 3000 residents, but now the opal has dried up and it is a former shadow of itself - with a total population of 316.
It takes a certain type of person to love a place like this, with the isolation and the desolation. Walking through the cemetery Ingo reflects on the grim truths of his reality, and how strange it is to know every body that lies beneath him in the dust. As in life, both the once beautiful landscape and the once promising future he faced are slowly fading way and the story is unforgiving.
Desert ink follows the journey of 8 Mexican tattoo artists from the wrong side of the tracks, whose passion for art and tattooing saved their lives. With identities forged in street furnaces of gang banging, shoot outs, drug dealings, and jail time, this band of men crafted new identities, forming a new type of gang. United by art and their determination to earn a decent living, these sons of migrant workers found the will to break free from the easy temptations and trappings of their nefarious past lives, where their friends and relatives are doing life in prison or 6 feet underground.
Photography campaign shot off the back of a TVC for Rural Fire Service.
Yuri dedicated his life to his country and from an early age wanted to serve Mother Russia. Rising from commander of a motorised rifle platoon to senior officer of a military district operations department in Afghanistan. The sleepwalking only started occurring when Yuri returned home from service. At the start his wife Natasha would find him standing in the dark, always in the exact same place, the hallway, facing the front door and mumbling to himself. Then the neighbours would wake Natasha with a phone call demanding she collect him from their front yard. They put bars on the windows and deadlocked the doors, this contained the problem at home. Yuri has now started travelling with his new job within the government, staying in hotels makes it impossible to curb the behaviour. Ironically Natasha finds herself not being able to sleep while he is away, worrying about the consequences of his colleagues discovering his condition, or something terrible happening while he isn’t fully conscious.
An ongoing study into mining towns that are a shadow of their former selves. What happens to the town when the mine dries up? Who stays and who is quick to leave for the next big thing.
Part 1: Queenstown, Tasmania.
The fire started at 11:15am on Saturday morning, at 700ft below the surface of the Lyell Mine, in Queenstown, Tasmania.
Many of the men became trapped as they were working on the remote stopes and didn't know of the fire until it was far too late. The year was 1912 and there was there was no emergency warning system operating.
170 men entered the mine that day, 42 were never to be seen alive again.
During the rescue party's attempt to find the survivors they came across this note, pinned to the wall.
Seven hundred level. North Lyell mine, 12/10/1912
If anyone should find this note convey to my wife.
I will say good-bye.
Sure I will not see you again anymore.
I am pleased to have made a little provision for you and poor little Lorna.
Be good to our little darling.
My mate, Len Burke, is done, and poor old V. and Driver too.
Good-bye, with love to all.
Your loving husband,
A scout troupe set out exploring the Australian outback. Escaping the scorching heat, they ventured into a cave. Emerging, they come to a sombre realisation: an airborne virus had wiped out most of humanity. They would have to survive in the wilderness alone, armed with nothing but their wits, courage and their scout skills.
Celebrating the courage of children, as they gamely tackle obstacles without any apprehensions or expectations. At what age did we start to let fear dictate our actions? As kids we would get to the top of the hill and think how fun it would be to slide or run down it, now as adults we think we better go slow, in case we fall.
I have trained in Jujitsu for 8 years, and only recently started to compete. I previously always had an excuse as to why I couldn't.....from being too old, not training enough, being injured, being too busy, or the constant fear of failure. These fearless kids are from the same gym, and they all train hard, compete with bravery and have medals to prove their victories.
Martial arts is so good for children, not only does it teach the values of discipline and respect, but also about patience and persistence, and most importantly that the hard work put in ends up yielding results. The same mentality can be applied to all areas of their lives. The only difference between a white belt and a black belt, is the black belt never gave up, and that's on and off the mats.
A glimpse into the lives and temporary homes in caravan park dwellers within Australia.
Transient: passing especially quickly into and out of existence : transitory transient beauty.
Passing through or by a place with only a brief stay or sojourn transient visitors
Commissioned Commonwealth Bank campaign focusing on Agribusiness around Australia.
Silent smoke shivers over last night's fire
Rooster coughs up dawn
Tap tap crack eggs.
Nostrils fill with morning mist
sticky with yesterday's sweat
Cloaks of dew bead on silent faces
coating sleeping skin.
Each brown dot of sand
Each rough trunk
Tickles dry palms
Scratches scarred fingerprints
Grain trickles over wrinkled skin
Parched fields beg for green.
Air, Sky, Ground
All that sight surrounds
the whole Earth crackles to life
rubbing crust from its dark sockets
opening them to grey light.
Thunderous hooves shake the grass awake
All Africa rumbles underfoot
Heat, humans, beasts,
trees, water, sand-
the land churns.
As night turns away
and light becomes day,
a continent rises
stands and stares at the Sun.
~ Miles Merrill
My Grandpa started the South Oakleigh Bowling Club in Melbourne and they still have a room named after him..."The Jack May" room.
Bowling Clubs in Australia are a dying breed. Unfortunately the popularity of the game is down, due to an ageing population and increased land values the clubs are being merged or sold off one by one.
This project aims to bring awareness to the daily struggles that some children endure, by trying to give you their respective visual impairment. With each photo the viewer ‘sees’, it is ironically as though they become the child in the photo looking into a mirror, less able to clearly ‘see’ what lies in front of them. In this way, the series itself becomes a metaphor for deterioration.