stu

A multi-story mall interior masquerading as a spaceship terminal for the consumer sublime. Glass railings glint like polished promises, escalators ascend with algorithmic grace, and the skylight—an angular lattice of triangular panels—funnels daylight like divine retail nectar. Each level is a stage in the drama of acquisition, where storefronts blink and beckon beneath recessed lighting and metallic finishes. Red and pink decorations punctuate the neutral palette like capitalist confetti. The geometry is precise, almost smug, as if the building knows it’s photogenic. Verticality reigns—lines converge, perspectives stretch, and the whole space hums with the choreography of movement and desire. This isn’t just architecture; it’s a cathedral of curated impulses, a monument to the spectacle, where every reflection is a selfie waiting to happen.

LEVEL 5 of the concrete labyrinth, where steel beams crisscross like the ribs of a sleeping giant and fluorescent lights hum the anthem of late-stage infrastructure. Diagonal supports slice the air like industrial calligraphy, while the ramp coils upward—a gray tongue leading to unknown altitudes. Parking bays stretch in neat rows, ritual spaces for the daily automotive pilgrimage. A chain-link fence divides zones like a bureaucratic veil, hinting at order but whispering containment. “EXIT” glows like a false prophet, promising escape but delivering only another level. The air smells of rubber and resignation. This isn’t just a garage—it’s a monument to motionless motion, a shrine to the parked and the waiting, where every echo is a ghost of acceleration.

A ghost-path suspended above the arterial hush of lockdown-era Melbourne, where bicycles and pedestrians once danced in parallel lanes now haunted by absence. The fencing—green and black—feels like a polite barricade, a gesture of containment dressed as urban design. The white line down the center is a relic of movement, a memory of shared direction in a time of mandated stillness. Warehouses and power lines flank the route like silent witnesses, industrial sentinels watching the city skyline shimmer in the distance—untouched, unreachable, mythic. The air is thin with protocol. The sky, partly cloudy, wears its ambiguity like a mask. This elevated corridor becomes a liminal zone, a bridge between isolation and aspiration, where infrastructure dreams of footsteps and the city waits, paused mid-breath, for the return of the ordinary sublime.

What a year 2020 was, on occasion we were allowed outside, these are from November, during the world's longest and harshest lockdowns. #photography #iphone #melbourne #2020

Orange bollards delineate an area of the grounds outside the NGV, Melbourne, Australia. A pair of young women are caught edge of frame. The sky is blue and cloudless. The sculpture by Inge King’s Forward Surge, occupies the middle ground with apartment buildings behind that.

The western forecourt of the National Gallery of Victoria, withe the Spiegeltent erected, it’s a bright sunny day and the blue sky is cloudless, surprisingly there are few people around in what is normally a busy spot.

Inside the NGVIan Potter building an architectural marvel and a great place to get lost in.

From my archive. While wandering about. Melbourne has an amazing Arts precinct, there’s always lots to see and do.

A cobblestone plaza in Melbourne glows under a golden sunset, transformed into a pop-up lounge of striped deck chairs and relaxed bodies—urban flâneurs soaking in the twilight. A towering Christmas tree wrapped in electric blue lights anchors the scene, flanked by high-rises and a construction crane that gestures toward futures still under assembly. Overhead, string lights crisscross like celestial coordinates, mapping leisure against the skyline. People recline, chat, or gaze skyward, their silhouettes soft against the amber light. The mood is festive but unhurried, a civic exhale at the edge of the year. In the distance, modern architecture and heritage spires mingle like temporal tourists. The whole tableau feels like a postcard from a parallel Melbourne—where time slows, chairs multiply, and the city briefly becomes a living room for strangers.

The sun sets over Federation Square while people watch the big screen.

Catch the train to the end of the line get off. Walk around. What do do you see? From my series Everything and Nothing, Werribee 2025-10-06 14:53:32

Daylight saving begins, what better way to celebrate than staying out in the gorgeous late afternoon light, photographing’Everything & Nothing’.

wild weird and wonderful, networkoftime.com?match=adolf-...
#www #weird #internetiswierd

Swanston street, in he depths of what feels like a more brutal than usual winter from my series ‘Everything & Nothing’

Infrastructure,infrastructure, infrastructure. From my series ‘Everything and Nothing’.

NGV West wall 2025-03-09 11:33:17. From my series “Everything & Nothing”

what about Flâneur?

*sigh*

All the shadows. All the lines. All the geometry. From my new series ‘Everything & Nothing’.
#photography #urbanlandscape #suburbia #highpoint #shoppingcentre

Double Click Twin photographers in the Golden Age of Magazines

This week, on @flakphoto.news — An excerpt from @carolkino.bsky.social's book, Double Click: Twin Photographers in the Golden Age of Magazines. This was a fun post to produce and a fascinating story to boot. Please share it with your #photography friends. Thank you, Carol!

Great stuff indeed.

sing out if you do would love to show you around

Time travel machine Revisiting locations 30 years apart In 1991 I photographed this scene using my Mamiya C2 camera, I used Kodak's Techpan film, for its fine grain. The excavation in the foreground is now a major...

I hopped in my Time Machine recently and popped back 30 plus years!
s2z.tumblr.com/post/7787872...

I try to infuse my work with "beat poetry"

The Obelisk has been there since about 2021 I think. I’m just using my iPhone currently a 16 Max Pro.

Dusk over the West Melbourne rail yards. From my new series ‘Everything & Nothing’. #photography #urbanlandscape #melbourne #light #magichour

Claude, ChatAi are my 2 favourites, still learning and experimenting though...

Very “New Topographic”

stove top percolator with freshly ground beans

all hail 'alt text'

Actual real tea candles! And beer!

A hillside restoration or landscaping project showing numerous white protective sleeves for young plants or saplings arranged in rows. The sleeves are supported by wooden stakes and spread across a mulched slope. A concrete path or trail runs along the bottom of the slope, with a metal safety railing. There's a yellow warning or directional sign visible, and some graffiti-covered concrete walls in the background. The scene is set against a backdrop of mature eucalyptus and other trees under a clear blue sky, with power lines visible in the distance

From my new series, 'Everything & Nothing'
www.flickr.com/photos/s2art...
#photography #urbanlandscape #newnewtopographics

Flickr is entrenched in my creative process... still...

Seriously contemplating preordering it myself

Texas Museum Responds to Controversy over Sally Mann Photographs Featuring Children The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth responded to a controversy over Sally Mann photographs that some claimed were 'child porn.'

And so it begins!
www.artnews.com/art-news/new...
#photogrpahy #art #censorship

The view of the Sydney harbour bridge from a nearby bar called Jane’s Squire hotel. The foreground is occupied by seating and umbrellas, fortunately all closed. To the extreme left partially cut by the frames edge a man in a high visibility shirt. The Sydney harbour bridge itself can be seen in the background along with parts of the North Shore. It’s an overcast day. Many excellent beers were drunk. Not in t is the opera house as the view is blocked by a fuck off huge cruise ship.

Current status? Slumming it in Sydney, nearly 900 kilometres from home!

Twenty Twenty Four In Pictures - s2z Photography Blog This year I decided to look back over the 16,000 plus pictures I made with my iPhone and post a kind best of/where was I post. I added the parameter of one picture for every week of the year. So that ...

2024 in 52 pictures.

stunik.com/blog/2024/12...