Martin Kostian's profile

Photojournalism and Beyond

A stunning display of life and death. This small pile of fungal exuberance I ultimatly surmised to be decomposing dog poo. All the little dots within the fine hair are small dead insects. 
This was a particularly frightening moment while I was out shooting for my Landscape Photography class. I was under an old bridge in an industrial area on the edge  of town taking photos of endangered riverways of Vancouver. I turned around and saw this. My heart almost stopped. I stood frozen for about 20 seconds. I could not belive my eyes.
Fearing the worst I very gingerly nuged the object under the twisted sheet. 
All rocks uncanilly wrappped in a sheet to look like a body had been dumped there. The scale was perfect and the vines looked like so many ropes binding it. I sat down to let the feeling of dread pass. I observed the scene before me as snow drifted quietly down around the bridge. It was serene and very creepy. This was my lesson in being ready to expect anything when you start digging in places no one usually goes. 
 
This has become one of my very favorite shots so far. The feeling of melancoly is unshakeable. The idea of possiblities past and things we leave behind enshrouded in a mist of progress and ineviatability. 
 
I showed this to a friend of mine and he exclaimed "I used to live there!" . Ah, co-incidences.
 
Kali, the hindu goddess of Time and Change. I found this fugureine on the Fraser River near Port Mann at low tide. As if the river had given birth to the goddess herself. 
 
On this very rainy day, I was out shooting industrial landscapes. It was in a gravel pit shooting Burtynsky style photos when I slipped and landed in a pile of loose gravel. Camera First.
I got up and brushed the gravel off my camera. I tried using it...the grating and grinding noise it made as I tried to spin the rear dial was gut wrenching. The lens did not sound much better and the shutter button was stuck.
I immediately took out the batteries and raced home. It took two days of slowly blowing the sand out with a air gun and a vacuum cleaner to stop the grating noise. On day two I replaced the batteries. 
I am happy to report that the camera sprang back to life and to this day it has not given me any trouble. 
I now avoid gravel pits in the rain. 
 
Photojournalism and Beyond
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Photojournalism and Beyond

The continuing saga of my photographic education. In which I enrol in Landscape Photography and Photojournalism.

Published: