In All His Glory
Naturally, George
Rumbustious George was one of three guinea fowl who shared twenty acres with me in rural Tasmania.
Domesticated, loud, proud and thoroughly opinionated, George was a character in every sense of the word. He seemed to appoint himself keeper of the property, making it his responsibility to announce anything unfamiliar — human or otherwise — and ensuring very little happened without his commentary.
He was adventurous and inquisitive, but beneath all that noise and attitude was a giving, caring and protective nature. He was a steady presence in the everyday rhythm of life on the property.
George had an unwavering get right in there and be yourself energy.
And that was exactly what I wanted to capture.
One subject. One month.
Loud and Proud
In 2020, I chose George as my subject for a month-long photography challenge through 365Project.
The idea was deceptively simple: choose one subject and photograph it every day for a month.
I wanted to see how much diversity I could find within a single subject. More than simply making thirty photographs of a guinea fowl, I wanted to capture the real essence of George — his character and personality, the way he fitted into my world, and all the little things that made him unmistakably himself.
I wanted to showcase George in all his glory.
Fortunately, he gave me plenty to work with.
Photographing him was a delight. He would follow me around, investigate whatever caught his attention and simply continue being himself while I photographed him. When he'd had enough, he'd leave.
There was no performance.
George was just George.
Looking beyond the obvious
More Than Meets the Eye
As the month progressed, I became increasingly interested in finding unconventional ways of seeing him.
I didn't want every photograph to simply say, this is what George looks like.
I wanted to notice.
His feet. His feathers. His expressions. His shadow. The way he ate. The way he moved through his environment. The strange and wonderful details that could easily disappear when looking only at the whole.
I began asking myself what was intriguing about him and how I could photograph that rather than simply recording what was in front of me.
The more closely I looked, the more there was to see.
George being George
Getting Right In There
A world becoming smaller
The project came at a strange threshold in my own life.
I had just left my job, and while the events unfolding around the world had not yet reached us in Tasmania in the way they soon would, the uncertainty had.
We had an overseas holiday booked for the following month and were waiting with bated breath to understand what everything happening around us would mean for our plans.
We never made that trip.
Things shut down the day before we were due to leave.
Looking back, there is something particularly meaningful about the project happening when it did.
Without knowing how much our lives were about to change, I had spent a month concentrating on my immediate environment — one subject, one place, one ordinary part of everyday life.
What could have felt restrictive did the opposite.
It made me look more closely.
And the smaller the world I gave myself to photograph, the more I discovered within it.
In the details
Look Again
By the end of the month, the photographs had moved well beyond simply documenting George.
They had become a study of character, behaviour, texture, movement and individuality.
Each day seemed to reveal another expression or another part of his personality.
Something else happened too.
The people following the project began to know him.
Over the course of the month they became curious about George, expressed affection for him and began following his adventures. Even after the project ended, people continued to ask about him.
Somehow, through thirty days of photographs, George's personality had travelled beyond the property.
Other people had begun to see what I saw in him.
What remains
George continued living on the property long after I left.
Leaving him behind was a bittersweet choice, but one that had to be made.
And George continued as George always had — living life large and making his presence known.
The photographs came with me.
Looking at them now, they connect me not only to George, but to what was good about that chapter of my life — what was simple, natural and engaging.
They remind me of the pleasure of being absorbed in what was immediately around me. Of being curious enough to look again. Of discovering that something familiar can continue to reveal itself when we give it our attention.
But most of all, they remind me of him.
Of all my memories of George, what I treasure most is his nature.
Beneath the loud voice and unmistakable attitude was a giving and caring character. He was protective, dependable and somehow always there — a steady presence in the everyday rhythm of life.
And he never seemed to hold himself back.
George had an unwavering get right in there and be yourself energy.
These photographs now hold a deep sense of love and appreciation for everything he brought into my world and into my heart.
They remind me to look closely.
To appreciate what is already here.
To remain curious about the familiar.
And perhaps to carry a little of George's approach to life with me:
Get right in there. Be yourself.
Rumbustious George, in all his glory.
The Journey of Rumbustious George