CIRCULAR QUAY - Four lads from London entertain the riders of Sydney's City Rail with their beer-inspired rendition of "I Love You Baby" by Frankie Vallie and the Four Seasons.

Week 15
February 4, 2002 - Australia
"That inner vision…"

Dear Thor:

It all started with my first night in Sydney.

I was returning to my hostel after an evening of seeing the sites downtown, when these four young lads got onboard my railcar. They seemed like a fun bunch, laughing and living it up after a night of boozing. They weren't bothering anyone, so I didn't pay much attention to them until suddenly, they broke out in song…The Song. "I love you baby! And if it's quite all right, I need you baby, to warm the lonely night! I love you baby! Trust in me when I say…"

There it was - my journey's faithful, Frankie Avalon-inspired song signaling that something in this Search was about to end and another was about to begin. But what was ending? And what unknown person-place-or-thing could possibly lie in my future?

To be honest, the anticipation was killing me. After Thailand, I thought that The Song had abandoned me. But suddenly, on this sleek Sydney City Rail car, it appeared out of nowhere. And of all places, it came out of the mouths of four 18-year olds from London - lads way too young to even remember Frankie Vallie, his Four Seasons, or the hit melodies they created decades ago.

As we got off the railcar, I briefly chatted with the boys. Their names were Kurt, Kyle, Steve, and John - all of them freshly out of high school and on holiday until they report to "Uni" next term. None of them knew exactly why they started singing The Song. It was just one of those beer-inspired moments. But they did tell me that they were on their way to one of the famed strip-clubs in the Kings Crossing area.

They invited me to join their funfest; but I was exhausted. It was nearly two in the morning, and my eyelids were droopy from a nearly 20-hour day of sightseeing and travel. Perhaps it's a sad sign that I'm in my mid-30s when I turn down a chance to whoop it up and ogle naked women, but that's exactly what I did. Sleep overruled fun, and I declined their very tempting offer and continued on my way.

I paused only briefly to take some quick photos of the "red light" district around me. Had I been fully awake, I probably would have tried harder to take a picture-perfect image of my seedy surroundings. But I didn't care. I was tired and wanted to go to sleep. So I took a few quick shots, then walked the two remaining blocks to my hostel where my comfy pillow awaited.

The next morning, I looked at the photos and saw something unusual in one of them. Sure, it was just a blurry picture of one of the prostitutes who works in Kings Crossing, but there was also an essence in the image that showed I had frozen more than simple light rays. Somehow in the murky depths of my half-slumber, I had captured the soul and feel of the moment.

KINGS CROSSING - A prostitute hustles for her next "trick" on Darlinghurst Road in the eastern Sydney suburb of Kings Crossing.

It's always nice when that happens. One of my TV photojournalism mentors used to always say, "I'd much rather be lucky than good." So when I saw the picture, I smiled at my good fortune. Perhaps I had discovered the "trick" to good photography - become too exhausted for boyish fun.

But I soon discovered that it was more than just luck or a simple trick that I was onto. Something inside of me had changed. It's hard for me to explain, but this whole week, I've been "seeing" things differently. And every time I bring my camera to focus, the images popping through the viewfinder seem more interesting and deeper than the images that appeared there once before.

Perhaps that's what The Song was trying to tell me - that I'm growing as an artist, and I'm coming into my own as a man. Funny isn't it? I travel halfway around the world on some Search to find you, only to find myself in the end. But strangely, that's exactly what seems to be happening.

So I leave you with some images of Sydney. They're not the glorious shots of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge that you often see in travel magazines. I visited those touristy points-of-interest, but every time I tried to take a pretty photo, the image looked flat and uninteresting to me. So I gave up and let my "eye" decide what to take instead. The results are in this week's selection.

For fun, I'm also experimenting with black and white after a photographer friend inspired me with photos from her recent Thai holiday. I recently saw them on-line and was amazed that she captured so much with the color-free format.

So I bid farewell for now. I head off to New Zealand later, and so far I have yet to hear an encore performance of The Song. But that's okay - I'm still adjusting to the most recent performance earlier this week. I'll write you from New Zealand when I get there. Until then, please be well, be present. And Namaste!

Scotty