Sunday, January 30, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Gratuitous Island snap from the series I don't do landscapes
[for the Coelyns]
The air was clear and I took to the bicycle. It must be a year a least since I last touched this beast of pleasurable torture and it felt like it. My rear-end sat uncomfortably on the narrow saddle, hands resting tentatively on the handlebars but the legs, oh the legs, they felt fantastic as did my head. Such a wonderful feeling turning the pedals, wind rushing coldly pass my face threatening it seems to tear off the flesh and send it into the chain. But the legs! Oh the legs how good they felt out on the track by the sea.
Yes, I fell off once …. Or was it twice. Twice probably, I mean, it is a year since I last rode and the track was narrow and winding. And I’m a year older. Just a year mind you although time seems to be compressing as the years go by. Does it always go that way? I mean, taking that exponential notion, if its true, in two years I’ll be ninety. Ninety! That can never be true can it? I’m only just over fifty as it is.
Now I’m home, the legs still feel good, the head enjoying the ride still. And the sun remains shining through the window.
Todays reading. Ben Swift was eight years old when I first coached him.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Been in the darkroom, circumventing the film-scanner and producing a real print. Twas lovely being back in there breathing in the fumes, stumbling around in the dimly lit room [especially since the fluorescent tube of the white light fell out and was too damaged to use again].
Monday, January 24, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
There's boats everywhere it seems. Can't get away from them. Took a light stroll out along the River Parrott near Burnham-on-Sea recently and came across these. The river is muddy to say the least. My boots were not much better. This stretch of the river is tidal too so when the sea goes out the boats in the water settle on the mud.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
I've been away, visiting Mater in Somerset and having my thoughts re-programmed by a rather nice man in, of all places, Newport - that's Newport in Welsh Wales. It rained there. To be quite honest, I think it has always rained when I have been in Newport - which, in my previous English life was quite a few times teaching people how to teach people how to ride bicycles round and round on a wooden track. I'd been sent from Manchester you know. Cheltenham was in my varied itinerary too, staying with my little sister [and her husband and two grown-up kids]. The sun was shining off the lovely honey-coloured stone built houses as I met a pal I used to work with 35 years ago. 35 years??? Yes, that is right, sadly. He hasn't changed - they never do.
I took the train back to Mater's - a rare treat apart from the fare. And the train. It seems that I could get a much lower fare if I was to break the journey up into two sections - to Briftol and then on to Highbridge. So I did. Mad isn't it?
Bristol was my home for a few years a hundred years ago so I took the opportunity to stroll from the Brunel designed railway station across to the docks and eventually to the Arnolfini [as one must do ] before returning to the trains. Passing by the dockside my eye caught sight of the Thekla - a venue where I have enjoyed many happy evenings - some years ago. Viv Stanshall - previously of the Bonzo's used to own the thing before he set fire to his flat somehow and passed on to another way of being. I had a camera with me. I had two actually. I chose one, raised the Petri7s to my eye, composed and shot. Here is the shot.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Friday, January 07, 2011
“It wasn’t me. I didn’t even see it there” said the accused. Stefan blocked the door with a menacing smile firmly entrenched on his face. Mr Windy was going nowhere. “I wasn’t even in the room. Ask Cailean, he saw me in the parlour” a flabbergasted Mr Windy pleaded.
Beth smiled secretly under her hat, the very hat worn by Deanne when the discovery was made. “Cailean is hardly going to be able to help you Dad, he’s not old enough to talk yet.”
Mr Windy spun round “Well, you’ll just have to wait until he can then he’ll tell you. For goodness sakes Stefan, let me out”. There was a slight scuffle in the gloom but Stefan did not move a muscle, his smile not even twitching.
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
The other day I was having a discussion as to what makes a good snap - at least I think we were. I never really can tell if there is another agenda behind the verbals. And someone there at the time was mesmerised by my new green hat , so much so that they hardly said a word. I've taken it off now so you can relax.