About Simon
In a previous version of About Simon I babbled on about the first camera I ever owned, and exactly how it opened my eyes to the wonders of the world around us. If you missed it fear not, because it read like many of the other photographer biogs that you'll see out there.
And so in this newer, more concise version let me just say that I take photographs in locations such as New Zealand, Australia and, of course, the UK, and then wonderful people with exquisite taste buy these images and use them in books, magazines and adverts.
Or they simply hang them on their wall.
I am based in Buckinghamshire, just outside of London, and am more than happy to help you with your photographic needs. Feel free to contact me...
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However, if you do want more than that let me regale you with a brief photographic tale from New Zealand. I was on the West Coast of the South Island in a small township called Fox Glacier. It sits in the shadow of the mighty Southern Alps, and it's the sort of location landscape photographers go to bed and dream about.
I was there with a plan to get a dawn shot of Lake Matheson, a kettle lake a mile or so from town. It's a great location, the lake's not too big, there's some nice trees surrounding it, and beyond the trees loom the mighty Southern Alps. To the east, beyond the mountains, was the approaching sunrise. Everything was worked out to a T.
So my alarm goes and, not wanting to miss a thing, I'd made sure I set it good and early. I drove out of town in pitch darkness, quietly confident I'd get the first light of dawn as it hit the lake and the mountains beyond. I parked at the car park and set off through the forest that surrounds the lake. And it was still dark.
Anyway, twenty minutes or so later I reach the viewing platform. I set up my tripod and camera, and gazed out into the inky blackness, imagining where the lake finished and the forest (and mountains beyond) began. It was still very dark. Possibly too dark. And it dawned on me that my desire to be in place, on time would mean I had an hour of standing around ahead of me, one whole hour before there would be even a whisper of light. Could I really be that stupid? It seems I could.
To stop my mind playing tricks on me (mainly in the "What was that!" kind of way) I put my headphones on and started to listen to Coldplay's splendid Viva La Vida album. Time flew by, and I was strumming away on my air guitar to track 5 when I whirl round to see a young Japanese man standing there, watching me. He looked like he was weighing up his options; wait for the sunrise with the crazy man who cannot dance, or scarper back to the car park.
As it was he stayed, and the sunrise was rubbish. Overcast. Uninspiring. Soggy. The shot you see below I took the next day. Just goes to show that being in the right place at the right time isn't enough, you've got to be there on the right day too.
In a previous version of About Simon I babbled on about the first camera I ever owned, and exactly how it opened my eyes to the wonders of the world around us. If you missed it fear not, because it read like many of the other photographer biogs that you'll see out there.
And so in this newer, more concise version let me just say that I take photographs in locations such as New Zealand, Australia and, of course, the UK, and then wonderful people with exquisite taste buy these images and use them in books, magazines and adverts.
Or they simply hang them on their wall.
I am based in Buckinghamshire, just outside of London, and am more than happy to help you with your photographic needs. Feel free to contact me...
-
However, if you do want more than that let me regale you with a brief photographic tale from New Zealand. I was on the West Coast of the South Island in a small township called Fox Glacier. It sits in the shadow of the mighty Southern Alps, and it's the sort of location landscape photographers go to bed and dream about.
I was there with a plan to get a dawn shot of Lake Matheson, a kettle lake a mile or so from town. It's a great location, the lake's not too big, there's some nice trees surrounding it, and beyond the trees loom the mighty Southern Alps. To the east, beyond the mountains, was the approaching sunrise. Everything was worked out to a T.
So my alarm goes and, not wanting to miss a thing, I'd made sure I set it good and early. I drove out of town in pitch darkness, quietly confident I'd get the first light of dawn as it hit the lake and the mountains beyond. I parked at the car park and set off through the forest that surrounds the lake. And it was still dark.
Anyway, twenty minutes or so later I reach the viewing platform. I set up my tripod and camera, and gazed out into the inky blackness, imagining where the lake finished and the forest (and mountains beyond) began. It was still very dark. Possibly too dark. And it dawned on me that my desire to be in place, on time would mean I had an hour of standing around ahead of me, one whole hour before there would be even a whisper of light. Could I really be that stupid? It seems I could.
To stop my mind playing tricks on me (mainly in the "What was that!" kind of way) I put my headphones on and started to listen to Coldplay's splendid Viva La Vida album. Time flew by, and I was strumming away on my air guitar to track 5 when I whirl round to see a young Japanese man standing there, watching me. He looked like he was weighing up his options; wait for the sunrise with the crazy man who cannot dance, or scarper back to the car park.
As it was he stayed, and the sunrise was rubbish. Overcast. Uninspiring. Soggy. The shot you see below I took the next day. Just goes to show that being in the right place at the right time isn't enough, you've got to be there on the right day too.
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