Somebody stop me.

I keep on coming back to these bloody bridges.

The light was amazing today, so I grabbed my gear without thinking, and somehow ended up in Port Edgar. Photographing the Forth Bridges.

Again.

I thought I might get closer to the new one, under construction, but the light bouncing around on the old one held my attention instead. I was right. I am obsessed. I'm not finished with them, even though photographing them is driving me bats.

There's something else to it though. There's a misconception that it's harder to see things differently, when you see them everyday. I would argue, that while going somewhere new makes every thing seem fresh, to get a fresh angle on something, you have to return to it again, and again, and again.

And possibly again.

I had a friend, who set himself the task of making an interesting and fresh photograph of a mundane object. He chose a tap. A faucet. He allowed himself 3 rolls of film, and set 1 rule.

Each image must be different from the last.

The first roll of film was full of the usual kind of shots, getting the obvious out of his system. The 2nd roll was getting there. And the third roll was by far the best. He had no choice but to move away from the obvious, he'd ticked off the list of shots and views that existed in his head and he had to find something new.

I'm not saying that they were beautiful or the best images I'd ever seen. But they were by far the most interesting images of a tap I'd ever seen.

I guess I'm trying to tell myself that returning to the bridges is no bad thing. At least for a while. If the mood takes me. The point is not to see or show something new, but to show others a new way of seeing something old, or perhaps too familiar.