Today I write this post from the depths of a television broadcast facility I call my workplace. Surrounded by a cacophony of cooling fans and the tinny roars of crowd noise on small speakers.
As a shift worker, I have learnt how to make the most of my time in quiet circumstances. On the daytime side, I’m still able to step outside and breathe in the fresh Sydney Harbour air. Yet every six weeks I do my time on a week long stint of nights. Here, I am alone in all senses of the word.
Working shifst for a number of years, one would think that I’d be used to the isolation that comes with such working patterns. Yet the cyclical nature seems to make it worse. It seems like I’m missing out on everything that isn’t related to work and it has become a curse.
Despite the Catch-22 I find myself in, I’m actively finding ways to break the drudgery. I have recently expanded my photography by selling my photos at a local markets. Watch this space as I intend to expand the printing side of this photographic enterprise.
In the meantime, here’s a series that snapshots covering the processes and sights that befall me on the dark stretch of nightshifts. Each shot reflects a particular hour of my 12 hour shift.