Don't Forget Your Digital Lifelines: A Traveler's Guide to Tech Accessories

Travelling with multiple devices means juggling way more than just your laptop and phone. Between my smartphone, Garmin watch, camera, and laptop, I've learned the hard way that forgetting the right cable or connector can add unnecessary stress to your trip.

The real challenge isn't the obvious stuff like chargers - it's all those little connectors and adapters that keep everything talking to each other. I've streamlined my setup into three essential kits that pack flat and won't eat up precious backpack space.

First up is my "USB Octopus" - a clever bundle of standard cables wrapped together with spiral cable wrap that folds into a neat circle. It handles all my older devices that still need dedicated connectors.

Next, I keep the modern adapters in a homemade green cloth wallet (thanks to my wife's sewing skills!) with sewn pockets and velcro closure. This holds my USB-C to HDMI adapter, USB-C hub, and other current-generation connectors. Don't forget an SD card reader if you're shooting photos!

Finally, there's my trusty external hard drive - an old 1TB unit that serves double duty as backup storage and entertainment centre. It keeps my work and photos safe while carrying a few movies and music for downtime.

The key is thinking beyond just power - you need connectivity, storage, and backup solutions all working together. Once you've got your system down, travelling with tech becomes much less stressful.

Proof reading and summary assisted by Claude Sonnet 4 (AI)

The Evolution of My Photo Storage Journey

Remember when SD cards were "tiny" one-gigabyte things? Those days feel like ancient history now! Back then, I'd religiously transfer photos to my computer using whatever clunky software came with my camera, delete everything from the card, and start fresh. Simple times.

As cameras evolved with bigger sensors and RAW formats, everything changed. I learned that constantly writing and deleting files degrades flash memory over time – certain parts get marked as unreliable. Who knew? Now I format my cards monthly instead of deleting individual files, which is apparently much better for the card's memory.

These days, I keep about a month's worth of photos on my 64GB card before reformating. It's like having a built-in backup system. If something goes wrong with my main computer storage, I can always retrieve that month's shots from the card in the camera.

The hardware side has been a comedy of errors. Every built-in card reader in any computer I've owned eventually died, and those cheap USB readers weren't any better. I finally invested in a decent dual USB-A/USB-C reader that's been rock solid for two years.

Cloud Storage? Still figuring out that one. When travelling and you need them most, access can be tediously slow or not reliable. Monthly data storage costs can soon skyrocket as your photo collection grows.

Proof reading and summary assisted by Claude Sonnet 4 (AI)

Travelling with Modern Electronic Devices

I'm travelling interstate this week, and earlier today I spotted some beautiful lighting. I grabbed my camera, but of course ... the battery was dead. That’s one of the quirks of modern digital cameras: they rely on proprietary batteries. Luckily, I had two spares charged and ready. But by the time I swapped them out, the moment had passed. Such is life.

Back in the day, most of my travel gadgets used standard batteries, usually AAA or button batteries. Things were simpler. But with the rise of laptops, smartphones, and digital cameras, power demands grew and so did the number of chargers I had to carry. Each device came with its own special battery and charger, which meant packing a tangle of cables and adapters just to stay powered up.

I do have a charger for my Olympus batteries, just not with me.

Over time, many devices started supporting USB charging, which helped reduce the clutter. But even then, it’s easy to forget that tiny USB transformer. And while the plug end might be standard, the connectors on the device side became increasingly varied and confusing. So now, instead of fewer cables, I often end up carrying a whole collection of them.

Thankfully, my Olympus OMD 5 can recharge via USB, albeit more slowly than with its dedicated charger. I even have the correct cable connector. So I’m safe for now.

Modern Life? convenient? complicated! and always a little unpredictable!!

Proof reading and summary assisted by Copilot (AI)

Interesting stories about the colour Caput Mortuum

One of the pastels used in a recent zoom demonstration by Lyn Mellady for the Pastel Society of Victoria came in for a bit of discussion. The evocative name Caput Mortuum conjures a mysterious aura, Latin for “dead head” or “worthless remains”. The name most likely originates from alchemical traditions, where it referred to the residue left after distillation, symbolising what was left behind when the “noble” elements had ascended. Perhaps picking up a bit of spiritual importance in transforming alchemical waste (death, decay) into artistic material (new life).

Despite its ominous name, the pigment itself is rich and versatile. It is identified in medieval paintings and manuscripts, and was widely used in oil paints and fabric dyes, especially during the 18th and 19th centuries. Artists prized it for its earthy tone, opacity, and ability to create dramatic shadows and depth. Its popularity peaked in religious and Romantic art, often appearing in robes, backgrounds, and symbolic compositions.

Mummy Brown and the Pre-Raphaelites

In the 1800s, mummy brown, also called caput mortuum, a pigment reportedly made from ground-up Egyptian mummies, was widely used by European artists for its rich, warm tone and excellent transparency. It was especially popular among the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, a group of English painters who sought to revive the detail and vibrancy of early Renaissance art.

One of the most striking anecdotes involves Edward Burne-Jones, a prominent Pre-Raphaelite artist. According to multiple sources, Burne-Jones was horrified when he learned that the pigment he had been using was made from actual human remains. His nephew, Rudyard Kipling, recalled the moment in his autobiography:

“He [Burne-Jones] descended in broad daylight with a tube of ‘Mummy Brown’ in his hand, saying that he had discovered it was made of dead Pharaohs and we must bury it accordingly. So we all went out and helped ... according to the rites of Mizraim and Memphis.”

This symbolic burial of the pigment in his garden marked a turning point in the ethical awareness of artists. Burne-Jones’s reaction wasn’t unique many artists began to abandon mummy brown as the supply of mummies dwindled and the moral implications became harder to ignore.

Sources for Further Reading

• Art UK: The Corpse on the Canvas – The Story of Mummy Brown
• Wikipedia: Mummy Brown
• JSTOR Daily: When Artists Painted with Real Mummies
• Explore more of Evie Hatch's insights in the Ask an Artist podcast interview 
• Or her writings on Jackson’s Art Blog.

I’ve been using the colour for some time, it’s a deep, brownish-purple pigment derived from iron oxide (Fe₂O₃), specifically hematite or a synthetic equivalent. It is a common hue in soft pastels, with most brands also offering hues in a couple of lighter tints. Unfortunately, it is less common today in other media such as oil, acrylic or watercolour paints. It’s a good colour for enriching and warming up shadows. Although it is not an intensely chromatic or bright colour, it does strike a pleasing simultaneous contrast with turquoise or stronger greens. Modern versions have variable opacity but are an excellent help to mix or emphasise clean neutral colours.

Some research assisted by Copilot (AI)