practice

"Excuse me, can I take a photo of you?"

There was joy in my household this weekend as my new camera arrived in the mail on Friday.

This camera is long awaited, so too its new lens and plain betterness.

I've been reading up on travel photography, trying to get my head around all the elements I need to keep in mind to take that superhero photo I keep banging on about.

One thing I really want to do well as far as travel photography is concerned are portraits.

The good book says it's important to treat the portrait subject with respect, ask before taking their photo, all those nice things you should do.

I was putting the camera through its paces in Freo's West End, taking some architectural detail photos amongst the wedding parties in stretch hummers having their bogan wedding portraits.

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I spotted someone dressed as a ghoul. In my head, I tried to figure out when Halloween was. Certainly not late April.

But the closer the man in the long black cloak came, the more I realised his was an Aboriginal performer, face painted with yellow and white, didge slung over his back.

I thought I'd bite the bullet, obey the good book, ask permission to take this guy's photo.

Smaller than me, with a killer swagger, he walked over to a bench and flung his coat off to reveal a chest painted much like his face.

He smelled like a combination of hard liquor, sweat and in short: a rough night.

"I just walked past that wedding party, I wished them the best of luck.

"I might go back and play them a tune while they have their photos taken."

Somehow the conversation with turned to his own love life.

He told of women who had run around behind his back.

"Yeah, the next time I find a woman, I'm gonna spear her I reckon."

That's one way to pin her down... I said, fully aware of the pun.

A peal of laughter erupted from him. He thought it was the funniest thing ever.

He then turned serious again.

"They reckon I might have a kid from one of those old missus.

"My brother saw her with this kid in the pram and he said it looked exactly like me!"

He then deliberated as to whether he really wanted to know whether the kid was his or not.

Well you'll know whether the kid is yours or not if he has a beard, I said, pointing to the beard protruding from his white and yellow face.

"A baby with a beard!" he roared with laughter. This really could be the funniest thing he'd heard all day.

"You don't have any smokes do you?"

I shrugged my shoulders, Nope, I don't smoke. Sorry.

He wandered off talking about heading back to the wedding photography session.

But not before shaking my hand.

Sometimes it's not about getting the photo that makes photography a good experience.