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spanks!

Today...

...that I am VERY color blind. I always had knowledge that I was, but this morning I realised the extent. The eye doctor asked if I could tell the difference between the red and green lights when driving, and I can, so became very confused, stating 'you shouldn't be able to'. When I was younger, I always used to wonder if my pink was someone else's green, and so on and so on, going through the spectrum. I got so far with this thought that even considered that, if I swapped vision with someone, would we both be driven mad by the alien world we suddenly saw before us. Language can only give a subjective description of what we see. I started to think about perception, and thought of this...

and then this...

The above image is by Diana Arbus, the much troubled street photographer. Perception in all forms is subjective, and sometimes you need an eye doctor to remind you of the fact. Where some see disability, other see beauty. Where some see beauty, other see munipulation. It all depends on your perception...and maybe your ethics. But i KNOW I can tell the difference between the red and green light...can't I?

This Time Last Year...

I am having a faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaag

Flyer...

I still think the SNES could be better...

We come, we go...

I found out today that a very good friend of mine died a few days ago. I met Leslie at a very difficult and strange time in my life. The irony of our meeting wasn't wasted on me, one person at the end of his life taking on someone who had no idea where his life was going at that time. He gave me a focus and drive when I needed it the most.

Leslie was a staunch Labour supporter. Not what we know as 'New Labour' but the old school trade union Labour, from the roots up. He was constantly, right until the end of his life involved in campaigning for better housing in Kent, better awareness of the social and political consequences of how we live.

He served in the Second World War. He drove his tank regiment from India all the way up into Burma. I once asked him how he survived, how all those bullets missed, all those shells never found him. He told me that the one thing he had learnt was that 'everything is luck'. It was purely luck he never 'caught a bullet'.

He was possibly one of the most intelligent, well read individuals I have ever met. His lunches became a legend in my household for their interesting....content. He was always ready to talk, fight and debate, no matter what the subject.

What happens to energy when we die? I wish I knew. That amount of energy, that intelligence, experience and humility cannot just vanish. I hope perhaps I get a little bit of it. I know he, like me didn't believe in a creator, so I hope the universe finds a place for him.

I will miss you dear friend. I will always regret not being there more at the end.

Moan and Whinge

There was a photographer (his name escapes me, if anyone knows, let me know!) , quite famous who tried to burn all his negatives in a skip after a bad day. He was later quoted to saying he 'had had enough'. Thirty or so years of work gone, although a large part was salvaged.

I had an MA interview the other day, and halfway through, I looked at what I perceived to be a strong portfolio, and considered it on a more... objective level. The idea of the 'project' has been very much on my mind. The pre-conception and arrangement of a series of images on the same subject, loosely bound into a body work, for me finally does nothing. I greatly admire stuff like( http://www.phillipsdepury.com/auctions/lot-detail.aspx?sn=NY010210&search=&p=12&order=&lotnum=344) but also, why confine yourself. I must see a dozen photo's everyday that I should have taken, but because of the precious way I treat film, and the fear of 'not belonging' to a body of images, used to scare me.

Then, you have Eggleston. I was trying to think of a photographer who worked on a far looser scale, and immediately thought of him. I think Eggleston takes a long time to understand. Last year a group of students after seeing his exhibition, simply said they didn't 'get it'. Up to that point, I had always got immense satisfaction from viewing his images, but had never considered them under anything more than a beautiful observation on mundane, ordinary and generic. He clearly has the ability to perk a visual interest in any object, or rather, can find those objects which are hidden that have a visual quality that makes us question them. I strongly urge you to buy/borrow any book of his. Look through it again and again and just enjoy the images. Restores my faith anyway

Pasta, Pasta, Pasta...

Acomo Pepe (tiny, bead-shaped pasta) Bucatini (thick, hollow straws of pasta) Bumbola (bee-shaped pasta) Cannelloni (meat-filled tubes of pasta)Capelli d'angelo (Angel Hair pasta - thinnest long shape pasta) Capellini (very thin, round pasta strands) Conchiglie (seashell-shaped pasta) Cavatappi (tubular, corkscrew or spiral shaped pasta)Cresti di gallo (curved-shape pasta, brown in color) Ditali/ditalini (Short pasta tubes, similar to macaroni) Farfalle (medium-size pasta, with crimped center & pinked edges; bow tie shape) Fettucine (flat, wide pasta strands) Fusilli (hollow, corkscrew or spiral shaped pasta) Gemelli (medium-sized pasta, like two short pieces of tubular spaghetti twisted together) Gnocchi (small dumplings, made from potato, flour or semolina) I gomiti (short and curved, tubular pasta with semi-circle shape) Lasagne (ripple-edged strips, about 2-1/4-inches wide and 10-inches long) Linguine (narrow, flat pasta) Lumache (snail-shaped pasta shells) Lumaconi (big pasta shells, often used for fillings) Mostaccioli (diagonally cut, tubular-shaped pasta) Macaroni (long or short cut, pasta tubes) Orecchiette (small, ear-shaped pasta) Orzo (pasta usually used in soups) Penne rigate (diagonally cut, tubular-shaped pasta with ridged surface) Perciatelli (fat, hollow pasta strands) Radiatore (short, chunky, ruffled-shaped pasta) Ricciolini (two-inch pasta strips, twisted gently) Rotelle (corkscrew or spiral shaped pasta) Rravioli (pasta cushions, filled with meat or spinach) Rigatoni (large, ribbed tubes) Rotini (corkscrew or spiral shaped pasta, about 1-1/2-inches long) Spaghetti (round, thin pasta strands) Tagliatelle (thin strips of ribbon pasta) Tortellini (little pasta 'hats' with meat filling) Trenette (long, narrow strips of pasta) Vermicelli (round, thin pasta strands - thinner than spaghetti) Ziti riigati (medium-sized tubular pasta, slightly curved)

Pas has this tattooed on his back....honestly

Young ones

Myself and Steve ( I miss you!) were up our local pathetic hangout dustbowl last year, and out of the blue he turned around and asked if I had ever thought its weird how we hang out with kids half our age. He then went on to tell me about having Stacy in his car, and Stacy seeing all his friends walking around. Up until that point, I had never really thought about it.

Actually, thats a lie. I had, but never in the terms Steve was suggesting. I suppose, firstly, I don't really see them as young people, but rather young skateboarders. There is a distinction there, but how to explain it is hard. Perhaps, when having a skateboard tucked under my arm, I turn to an 'Us and Them' mentality. The public simply merge into either being in the way or about to get in the way. Nothing else really comes into it.

The public perception of this can't really be positive, but then again I am a 26 year old single male walking around with what is perceived to be a toy under my arm... not much really matters after that.

I know when I started skating at the age of twelve, my parents first voiced concern at me riding in cars of twenty year olds. This, however, soon turned to a must from my parents, once they realised that a) they weren't pissed, b) they weren't too weird and c) they actually looked out for me. If I had a pound for every time i was bought home with a busted ankle/wrist/head by someone twice my age I would....well, have about six quid, but thats not the point. I grew up too fast, yes, but I also had a great deal of protection that would not have been their otherwise, and I honestly think some of the situations I got myself into as a younger man would have perhaps not turned out in my favor.

So, here's to you young ones. Don't try to hard, because as soon as your up, we will push you back down. But right down inside, we love you, because basically, we are the same.

Get ya guns out....

About three weeks ago, I saw a report on the BBC about the Ministry of Muscle. The report ended, and as they do on the news these days and the 'sign-off' included the location, which was Maidstone. I didn't spit my tea across the room, but was surprised none the less, simply because nothing of any interest happens here. This place basically trains all the strongmen and powerlifters in the region. Considering their small location, their effect has been wide felt.

As I tend to do, I literally walked in and asked if I could start snapping; sometimes the direct approach is often the best. They agreed, and I very quickly forgot any stereotypes I had created in my mind about the sport. I was expecting an aggressive environment, with little co-operation from the lifters, but instead I found a very tight knit community doing a very misunderstood practice, who were more than happy to be in front of a lens.

As we speak, I am a few visits in, and so far this has been a really nice opportunity to get some shots i've been wanting for a long time, including mixing black and white and color, which although very very difficult, could be done with this.

Tarris, Templeton and Paranoia

Ask anyone who knows me as a creative person, and they'll vouch for the following. I am the most disorganised, on-a-whim image maker possible. I pick up and put down idea's like no one else. I cant help it, and recently have found myself beginning to embrace it. Honestly, I know feel its the only way I work; I have to vent my creative outlets in multiple ways. There have been trips untaken, projects unfinished, zines still sitting on my floor waiting for a cover. The amount of planned images that only exist in my head way outweigh the actual amount of images i have ever shot. That being said, there are one or two projects which i find myself picking up, and hanging onto them, one of which is the following.

I've been shooting photo's of my friends (who happen to be a cohort of skateboarders) pretty much since I began to get seriously into skate photography, around 2007. I stumbled in and out of it for some time, but last year whilst doing my teaching degree had to look into some Templeton stuff for a lecture I was giving. I simply forgot how angry his images made me feel. On a photographic level, Templeton is just the most beautiful image maker. He has that authentic touch, where you never question his images. It was more in terms of representation that I found myself getting annoyed. What he portrayed skateboarders as was 'sensationalist' to say the least. I don't have a problem with nudity, drug use etc, but I found that when trying to explain to a bunch of 19 year old students, that, yes I am a skateboarder, yes, here is some photographs of skateboarders by Templeton, but no, i don't travel around the country on drug fueled fuck trips, I live a rather normal boring life, they seemed disappointed. I've had some good times (some very good times) thanks to a plank of wood and four wheels. Anyway, I decided that i knew what it wasn't, so why not find out what it is.

Three years later and I'm looking through, thinking of ditching the whole thing. Sometimes i get what i can only describe as creative paranoia. Its not the 'oh feel sorry for me' tortured artist gig, but a proper 'chuck the whole thing in and become a postman' deal. So here i was sifting through millions of negatives, trying to find anything I had miss to try and pull the 200 or so final images I already had into a coherent body. Thats the problem with a large body of work, through editing you can pretty much make it say anything you damn well please.

I came across this gem. Those of you who know Tarris don't need an introduction, and this post is so long I really cant be arsed to explain him. Basically, I saw this, and it restored my faith in the whole project. I have no idea how I missed it the first time round, thats the nature of taste, ever changing. There's something so awkward, yet appealing in Tarris's pose. He looks so lost, proper uncomfortable, but at the same time, totally at ease. He's actually very photogenic somehow. I saw it, and i thought to myself its worth another three years. I hope i'll keep doing it until I find what it is I'm trying to say.

So Tarris, thank you. I suppose I owe you a drink.

Hopes...fears.

I wrote a brief statement for this. I find it helpful, as it allows me to work within a contextual frame. It follows:

'In October 2009 I was diagnosed with a un-ruptured brain aneurysm. Overnight, my perception of mortality, and my own life, changed completely. Brain aneurysm on average effect 1 in 15 people, with a third of those suffering a rupture dying immediately. Coming to terms with having what is effectively a time bomb strapped to your head is challenging. I began to notice subtle changes in my attitude towards the finding of this abnormality, from a state of neutrality and acceptance during the daylight hours to something closer to terror at night. My domestic surroundings, once a place of comfort and security became a colder sterile place; only the light of day seemed to offer any comfort. At the same time, morbid curiosity forced me to seek out tales of others who had suffered the rupture I feared so much and imagined often. These texts moved and terrified me, gave me comfort and offered concern. These strangers spoke of my biggest fears, and my deepest desires.

I found myself looking out of a window more. I was born in the room that it is situated in. Looking at a familiar 'view' from a domestic place is a strange thing, you tend to not look at the view, because it never changes, but rather you look at yourself. Its a very reflective thing, which i what led to this repetition within the images and in the complete set ( 10 images) day slowly turn to night.

This is a starting point. I shot these digitally and worked from prints, scratching the quotes directly into the surface, but i want to re-shoot onto film. Using image and text has never been a strong point of mine, and I use it only because the concept requires it. That being said, there is a 'right' and a 'wrong' way to go about these things, so more working with text will be done i expect, although the scratching is very very satisfying!