It was a windy night, late in 2006, the incessant humidity defeated by the frequent gusts of cool air.  I sipped my teh tarik, the milky tea flavours swirling in my mouth.  I was talking to an old friend, one who had spent several years in the 1990s shooting street candids but who has since not shot more than ten rolls of film since the crossing of the Millennium.  Digital was a foreign word to him, even the now ubiquitous digital compact point and shoot cameras, not a part of his worldly possessions.  He was quietly listening to me talk about my digital road, the journey thus far and where I wanted to go.  His handphone beeped an SMS, momentarily distracting him as he squinted at the little glowing screen.  He tapped out a quick reply, snapped his phone shut and said,

“Sorry, tell me the last part again, the part about the pyramid.”

When I began down the digital road in 2004, digital as an acceptable photographic medium was only about five years old.  For much of those early years, digital was only embraced by the news photographers where the quality of digital was enough for newsprint and the immediacy of the image, sans the darkroom, a clear game changer.  Many wedding and studio photographers that I knew were still faithful to their film-based medium format cameras, and for the few that did begin on the nascent path to digital, it was often still the tentative steps of scanning in their Velvia and Kodachrome transparencies.  I had decided not to take this “dip the toe into the water” approach, not because I did not believe in it but that my analog gear was seriously aging and beginning to show its age.  So, like a prospector in the olde Wild West, I headed to the frontier, with not much of a caravan, to find my fortune. 

On my road to the Magdalene shoot, still a year away, I claim no innovation, no secret patented devious 30-step action set that magically made your image great with one click.  There was no shortage of techniques described in books, magazines and the internet, from the simplest effects of tweaking exposure and contrast to more sophisticated masking and compositing tricks.  Voraciously, I read and digested these pearls of knowledge, trying out each technique, trying to make sense of this smorgasbord of digital morsels.  I have previously written about my early euphoria and misadventures, and now, we fast forward the clock to 2006, and to the crucial piece of my puzzle that is the Eye of the Pyramid.

The Illuminati symbol I refer to is that of a pyramid, different from the pyramids of Giza in Egypt, as it has three sides instead of four.  The three sloping surfaces rise up to meet at the apex, where an all-seeing eye is represented.  In Illuminati lore, the symbol is often referred to as the Eye in the Pyramid, with the legends surrounding this secret society further reinforced by this icons presence on the American dollar bill.  However, the desire to describe my digital methodology with this image had nothing to do with the Freemason world domination conspiracy underpinnings of this icon, but rather the simpler interpretation of three crucial sides, each supporting the other, leading to the Eye.

The three sides represent the three key concepts I use to create the images I desire.  They symbolize my beliefs and are the core components that define my approach to digital imaging.  Looking back, I realise that they are in essence, the heart of my style, the fundamental building blocks of a Squall image.  In the weeks to come, we will go on a little adventure as we explore the allegorical three sides of the pyramid.  We will bear arms and join the battle to defeat The Demons Within, search for the magic spells needed to heal The Wounded Angel and unearth the blueprints to restore The Lost Paradise.  Finally, at the top of the pyramid, we will gaze through the Eye in wonderment  and behold, The Endless Frontier.

Come, walk with me.