Sunday, November 27, 2011


After what feels like months of mostly processing, my cerebral cortex working overtime with short bursts of exploratory photography, at long last the work is emerging and becoming coherent.  It will be another combination of moving and still image, the one above isn't included but is part of the exploration. 

Wednesday, October 26, 2011


Travelling regularly backwards and forwards to Leicester my obsessive nature was drawn to a particular line of trees and to another more randomly placed set.   One was orderly in every visual aspect, the train from which they were viewed plodded along, they were neatly spaced, had beautiful round shaped domes on top of elegant trunks.   The other appeared completely in disarray with tall bent trunks and straggly, shaggy windswept tops and often hardly made it into the frame as the train was the High Speed.   I photographed both sets over and over in a compulsion that came from deep within me, the images lie condensed as pixels within an external hard drive, unvisited, unused and becoming a fading memory along with the journey to Leicester.  One day I'll resurrect them and make them into the video I see in my mind.

For now though my sight is taken up once again with the sea, remember Sea Piano Fret?  My obsessiveness has turned its attention back to the waves.   I've watched them for years now, at night when the moon is full it casts an electric blue light as though rushing through the crest when the tide is full, fat and seemingly slow.  I've watched them crashing into the shore when a man stands precariously on the concrete groin opposite my window.  I've dreamt about them.  Lately I've been watching them up close, fascinated by the fact that some do actually seem to be retreating from the land, while others appear to want to devour it.  

I'm not the only obsessive one, of modern day observers of the sea here are two: Susan Collins set up webcams across the south coast and observed the tides roll in and out pixel by pixel.  Catherine Yass made the film 'Lighthouse' (the Royal Sovereign Lighthouse located five miles out to sea off the coast from here and visible from my windows) disrupting our spatial awareness with the camera movement, I watched it again and again. 

The sea right now is ever so slowly revealing some of its secrets, it's a bit scary though.  Placing myself in precarious positions and catching myself jumping with fear at just the right moment to avoid being consumed by it is no fun and stupid at best.   I found a copy of George Knight's 'Photography Hints & Tips' - the special limp edition of 1971 which expressly tells me on page 34 'At the coast' ... Take great care of your equipment on the beach, and protect it from sand particles and salt spray by keeping everything (yes - the ever-ready case as well!) in a polythene bag; never leave it lying in full sunshine, whether it is loaded with film or not...  Well I've exposed my film-less, bag-less equipment to salt, sand and sun and hope to goodness it'll still function once those evils have done their worst. 

And after all that scariness (I'll show you that later) here is a relaxing, gentle shot.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Testing, testing

Working hard again - heart heavy, hope it doesn't implode before I'm ready.  Let's make it lighter and have some fun.

I like exploring.


Finding out.

Life is a dream, isn't it?  Anyway?

Hope David Francis doesn't mind me posting this since it's his playing?  Ace Dude.

Monday, September 12, 2011


This year has been a bit like stepping off unstable sure ground and leaping onto a highwire tightrope wearing flippers.  Without any intention, I was in danger of becoming the pavement version of Philippe Petit.  Following life cycles with a flat tyre rather than a taut life line.  Various visits to various locations has grounded me, surprisingly.  Beachy Head is one, I went there again to capture the sea - crazy idea, how can one capture the sea in all it's majesty - impossible.  I spotted a group instead.  Captured them while I could.  Later I ventured to the beach - not the one at Beachy Head, having no head for heights - but my beach, the one that's close to me, capturing a smaller version of the sea...

Monday, May 30, 2011

Intern, Inter, Interrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, indeterminate

Thing is it's happening here too.  Let's 'employ', selectively, a load of young people for no wage giving them the hope of a job or career: sometimes it does lead to paid work and sometimes it doesn't (they can presumably only do it if they have parents or a patron who will fund their living expenses through it, unless they have their own savings but if they've studied it is likely they haven't  - so it becomes exclusive).  How has this idea come about?   What about those people who have no-one that can fund them?  It doesn't feel right.   It feels wrong, wrong, wrong and it feels like exploitation.  Minimum wage (which is bad enough) flies out the window - no wage is the new hip thing.  And what message does this send to these young people?  What will they expect from younger people, for free?  They'll be the future employers and what will they say: 'well I did it and now you can but times have changed and you will need to do it for longer (your whole life even) to prove you are worth my trust (investment) in you'? 

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Ever since I was ejected from a fairground ride I've avoided them.

Having gone again for change/flux/excitement/fear despite my primeval aversion to fairground rides all manner of ordinary things need addressing: these are my bookmarks from the laptop that needs to be returned.  Because I've 'bookmarked' them presumably they had or have a resonance with me over the last few years.  They are in date order of bookmarking, so the last is the most present.  Some I haven't visited in years.  Some are visited often.  In a partial way they catalogue my interest over that period.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Doing it anyway

I'll write more about this later... and Jawdance plus

Image courtesy of Alexander Brattell:

(in response to Alex's image)

  Approaching 50 Flat Out by Reinventing

Friday, May 13, 2011

Change, change, exciting, scary, daunting, energising, exciting change

So, I guess you won't be wanting your usual then?

Life goes in cycles and that's the truth (in my experience it is approximately every 7 years).   Then there's the push and pull of things that adds to the mix.

I probably won't quote anyone tonight.

Sadly, what can't be seen clearly in this image because I was laughing too much when I took it, is the writing on the label that says 'Air bag missing'  - well I don't know about you... yes, there are airbags in my car, but in my bra?  It's an interesting thought.  Or an interesting fact.  What if it suddenly inflates?   Then explodes?  Some massive surgical procedure no doubt to remove the implant that has fractured multi-dimensionally all over the shoppers in Waitrose.  Or worse still, implodes: what then?  Something resembling bullet holes the size of two small pizzas.  All for the sake of a pert uplifted breast.  Girls, girls:  Do not buy these goods, they are flawed with terrible possible outcomes.

Changing the subject entirely (really?) and going back to the original impetus for this post: the idea of change.

Why not accept graciously who and what you are and where you 'fail' and where you are 'good', why not?  Collectively we promote fail and good with people, this notion has age groups ranging from about 3 all the way to whenever, if ever people give up the problem of judgment from other people.  Being human I too struggle with this and the effect is continually trying to match up to other people's ideas, that really sucks.  Because isn't it true that everyone else is just as awkward and clumsy and finding their way as we are?

So a real bit of twaddle tonight, my life is changing - I'm embarking on a new and unknown path - I won't be using airbags.

It will all work out alright.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

10,000 emails

I never got that many letters in all my life.


I am de-commissioning my rucksack. 

Monday, April 11, 2011

It's all very well

Since I went digital I've got in a right old mess.  There are so many pictures, so many potential things to make, so much potential.  Too, too much.  The result is I have too much to sift through, to consider.  So I end up not doing anything with it.  I'm collecting all the time.  And have become overloaded.  The drives are full.  What to do?

Meanwhile I'm contemplating my options, learning the ukulele and listening carefully.  Considering Audioboo and other methods of getting sounds out there.  

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Washed up

I've neglected this blog for a while.  It's due to having too much to do.  Too many directions being looked at.  I'm still making work but not sure where it's heading.

My time is taken up with worrying.  A useless exercise.  Although is it?  It's not entirely unproductive and it's certainly time consuming.

I've never been an Activist - always viewed them as very odd.  But now it seems even my ire is irked and so I've joined in.  I don't like it.  First time was in the snow, it was so so cold.  There were only maybe 20 demonstrators.  Almost matched by security and the police.  Some plain clothed who asked us our intentions, some uniformed up with batons and who knows what else.  One nasty one, in different gear, who tried to goad a protestor outside BHS of all places.  A tactic they (the police) used was to not allow the BHS customers to exit the store while we were outside.  Fairly obvious why: make the public cross with us.  And some of them were.  It's a crazy shame.  The police are going to be affected the same as the rest of us.  1100 jobs in Sussex Police are going.  Meanwhile we sang(? kind of) 'No cuts, no cuts, no public sector cuts'.   Which of course applies to the police as well.  Ironic.

Today was another day of participation this time in the rain, I wore a very fetching hat - one with a beak, and we kept it short - only an hour - the police still almost outnumbering us but the men in overcoats weren't in evidence (excuse the pun) and neither was the mean guy.  Maybe they've lost their jobs already and are joining the homeless on the streets because their benefits have been cut (they didn't like the job that was offered to them - BHS cleaner or the next two - runners in Barclays or Lloyds TSB - which means no benefits for 3 years).  They've defaulted on their key-worker mortgages and they can't claim disability living allowance at all.   Their working tax credits are up the spout and their kids have lost the EMA.   Those kids would have liked to go to university but the fees have priced them out.  They will have to live under the poorly pier in Hastings because the homeless funding has been cut, if they need an op on their baton operating elbow they'll be out of luck due to the NHS reforms (even the BMA are revolting at this one - imagine GP's marching - it's getting more like Egypt every day).   Thinking of that likeness leads me onto some more, how our police force kettled, beat and charged (not in the arresting sense) at people with horses.   And they're planning other similar tactics, if you've got the time to watch, by the way it is utterly boring:

And so, what about art?  Well that's being cut too.  Our govt doesn't appreciate it.  They don't appreciate anything unless it fits in their pockets or overloads their bank accounts with more dosh.  Then they love it.  Then they support it.   23 millionaires sat last week and deliberated over welfare reform.  Like they give a shit.  I don't think so.  If they did they'd stop getting rid of tax inspectors and go after the damn unpaid taxes of their buddies.

Monday, January 10, 2011

There's no need to feel down

Remember the Ukulele stroller, David Francis, embarking on his year long Sunday afternoon odyssey down Bottle Alley (previous post: Sunday 31st October 2010) in aid of the pier and all things beautiful?  From time to time I've made it down there too and very haphazardly played a kazoo, rattled my thunder maker, lit myself up and even squawked a bit (if anyone's heard me sing they'll know instantly what that means).   Gradually I've caught the bug.  

Just recovering from flu is rather appropriate here because today was to be the first venture into the Ukulele Sunday School, feeling a bit wan I sent a message to David telling him I wouldn't be attending - the reply: 'Do you have a doctor's note?'  Well, no.  No note.  No doctor seen.  What to do?  Being of Irish stock, the only possible thing to do was: Wrap up, gather together myself and the lovely new uke and drive to the stroll ready for the class. 

I'm really glad that there was no note.  Because I've learned quite a few since.  Met a large number of thoroughly excellent people of all levels of ability, all very generous and patient and extremely enthusiastic about the ukulele. 

Although David was only teasing about the doctor's note (I think) he did me a big favour. 

Now I can play:

(C) Young man, there's no need to feel down
I said (Am) young man, pick yourself off the ground
I said (Dm) young man, 'cause you're in a new town
There's no (G) need to be unhappy.....

Singing it is a whole other story.