I took a nasty fall, last month when we were in Clarens – my heel flew off the wet iron edging to a step in the paving, and I landed heavily, one hand up in the air still clutching a jar of cherry jam I’d bought, and the other trying to break my descent. I had the Leica – fortunately in a protective pouch, as it was drizzling – on my belt, on the side on which I fell, and it was only when I sought to check the camera, some hours later, that I realised it wouldn’t start up properly. An error message came up, several times, and my heart sank. Like me, the Leica had taken a helluva bang.
I removed the battery, and when the camera relaunched, delicately assisted the lens barrel to project, and after two or three tries – again, like me – all seemed well enough, although, in my case, the bruises persisted for a week or two after.
This morning, with my mom returned to Cape Town and our house returned to peace and quiet and relative sanity, Rob and I betook ourselves to Fourth Street, in Parkhurst, for a spot of lunch and a stroll up and down what has to be one of the funkier little ‘hoods in Joburg.
I took the Leica with me, and I took these images, more with an eye to spotting any signs of damage than to making images or art. And I have to say I like what I see – not just the Leica doing its job as wonderfully as always, but the images too.
See what you think.