The OEBB from Vienna to Budapest leaves bang on time, as usual. We slowly pull away from the angular confines of Vienna’s newest train station, deserting the infamous and thoroughly impenetrable Viennese bubble for a precious few days. I’m momentarily gripped with a sudden panic, similar to when I first left home… am I nervous? It becomes apparent I’ve spent too much time living in the ‘safety’ of the worlds most livable city. Possibly time to move.
Soon we’re darting across the Viennese green-belt, northern Austria’s farmland for the ravenous, wine-swilling city elite. An ocean of small yet perfectly formed bright orange carrots cover tilled fields as far as the eye can see, the impeccably uniform symmetry comically interrupted every now and then by a few stubborn green cabbages. There’s a certain smugness dressed across the rebel greenery, and somewhere deep in the roots of this Cruciferous invasion echoes a reflection of modern Viennese society. To prance around Wien’s Mozart-themed squares as Swan Lake carries on a gentle breeze from Oper to the Konzerthaus, through food
Crossing the Danube just outside Budapest and a muddled horizon gives away nothing of the ancient city itself. Trees and derelict buildings litter the landscape creating a sea of greens and browns ahead and behind. Our train slows to a crawl as the number of adjacent tracks starts to grow exponentially. Overhead power lines begin to join the fray, as do graffitied sleeper carriages of all shapes and sizes. The horn blows loud and shrill clearing the oncoming tracks as an army of rusty brakes squeal against less-than-stainless steel rims. Sparks eject from under the train, ricocheting off dusty vegetation laying along the iron lines. Through sparks we see the beginnings of long empty platforms outside the misty train windows, ornate flower baskets overflowing with rich autumnal
Because it makes me a stronger photographer.
I found that after 15 years shooting digital my field-work attitude had shifted for the worse; I became accustomed to the high FPS my Nikons could turn over, became lazy when bracketing for HDR, began to abuse high ISO and just accepted the grain in all weather. I’d even leave my tripod at home and just make do with image
So I changed.
Forcing ourselves to select a small number of images amongst an infinite number of possibilities enables us to think deeper about our photography, it gives us motivation and
It's worth noting that 10IMG isn't about obsessive image matching for competitions or exhibitions, nor is it particularly constrained when choosing images for individual pools; think of it as a guiding principle designed to maintain standards and encourage exploration in photography and art as you move through life.
With regards to my photography, I use #10IMG to reduce my collections to only the images I deem fit for purpose; that is to say, those images which affected me the most when shot, or images which exhibit an iconic quality in terms of subject matter or juxtaposition, or even images which contrast with one another in every way possible.
Barnaby Jaco Skinner
Photographer & Artist