Wednesday, 3 December 2014


Armed with three cameras, assorted lenses and filters, FaceTime instructions from my teacher (my brother), and a photographer's assistant (my husband), I set off, intrepid explorer that I am, to explore the deserted interior of central Florida.

We drove on straight roads (it's as if the Romans had been here) and tracks, into the sort of areas you see in films - depicting strange families, inbred for generations, staring menacingly, undoubtedly armed to the teeth with the latest weaponry available to them.  The kind of people you don't want to stare at, or even look at actually in case you catch their eye ... much less stop the car, get out the camera bags, the tripod, etc etc to take photos of their houses!

So the cameras stayed in the boot.  I didn't get any decent photos of their houses - you know, those shacks with a porch and granny snoozing in the rocking chair.  We saw them. Briefly as we sped past.

My brother thinks I am a coward.  In this case, he is right.


  1. Just stop the car, introduce yourself as Corinne Inglis, a photographer with National Georaphic magazine, and politely ask if you may take their picture as they look really nice. You then have 3 options:

    1. you get a really nice photo of a nice subject
    2. you get politely told no in which case you walk back to you car, candidly take a picture anyway and drive onto the next one
    3. you have a gun pulled out on you whereby you run back to the car while Johnny distracts said mass murderer by flailing his arms around like a windmill in a tea shop and explaining that the gun will jam as they've used the incorrect grade of oil to maintin it, thereby disarming your assailant and making good your escape while you take a really good action packed candid picture

    Job's a good 'un.

  2. Candid picture of John being shot as I drive off?

  3. They had TEETH???? You must have been in the better parts of the state....... ;)