In the garden shed today

The very last time my Dad was over here in the Summer of 2004 he hid this bottle of TCP in the garden shed. He would use it for when he was bitten by the midges. I caught him one evening in the shed dabbing all his bites and I asked him what he was up to. His reply in a whisper  “Don’t tell your mother, she hates the smell of TCP”. I don’t mind it myself, it reminds me of my childhood.

The bottle remains exactly where he hid it.

Ken

The Girl With The Red Hair-Her Boy friend-And Diane

I've always been drawn to shooting people that look lost. That's not to say for a moment that they are but a look is good enough for me, certainly good enough for a photograph. Never been a doubt in my mind that photography is closer to poetry than painting (another post for another day)

The girl is called Minnie. She turned to me after I shot her and smiled in a confused sort of way. I felt obliged to get up of my chair and go and explain...

"I had to take you picture, you look like something from a Pre-Raphaelite painting"

She got it and Smiled polity. Her boyfriend turned up and he didn't get it so much
and looked like he'd had about a Kieth Richards amount of Charlie. Banter with a bit of needle followed and there was a point where I was considering giving him a lie down for a bit, but kept my composure and actually got on pretty well in the end

I went back to my seat pleased that had yet again, defended something I love doing and done it well. But Diane was not happy... She heard what I said about the painting. She loves Pre-Raphaelite paintings to but also knows that I love red heads. Spent The next 30 minutes explaining that in no way did I fancy the girl (I didn't). I won her over but never seen having to, coming

"If your pictures aren't good enough, you aren't reading enough"

- Tod Papageorge ...

Read more poetry, just make sure you read people to

The Secret Garden

I am going overtime with going back to this story.

It truly is the best.

Read it, watch it, hear it. Anyway you can.  

The Secret Garden.

 Ken

The Rochford Beer Festival - 2011

Been a sad one this year. Stuart was gone and it was very emotional.

Been twice this year, and it's been tough.

For Stuart Rayment. We missed you.

Kras

Bumbsy Tit

Back from Old London Town. House looks like a Bomb's hit it (we prefer Bumbsy Tit). What is it with women and bathrooms?


Where to start

Cook at Camden

Edit


Blood pressure's returned to normal

I used to be all about available light, I was was really opposed to anything else.
My stance on that has softened over the last few years, but I still recon I use the light I find better than the light I bring with me

This was taken on Monday (Diane's Birthday) It's Dees brother, Steven.
Did have a light with me here but can't remember if I used it as I was
very drunk

Nowhereisland

Thanks to Dee for sending me the link.


Nowhereisland - Alex Hartley from SituationsDirector on Vimeo.

Nowhereisland

A 2nd Big Four Zero

Wishing Diane a very, very Happy 40th! Enjoy.

From Ken & Angie.

Vikings

I miss a Norwegian Christmas, I really do.

We went to London today, to catch a Norwegian Christmas. It was not the same, but it was very close.

So nice to hear the language again.

 Kras

Jean Mary Gordon

I have a wonderful photographic history of Jean. Much more to follow . . .

In the meantime click Here
and Here


Edit:
To give you some idea of the size of the collection.

Jean died on the 7th November 2010, found from here.



Kras

Frozen

I don't mind plugging Roy's new slide show "Frozen in time", because I love it.

Frozen in time from Roy Birger Nilsen on Vimeo.

Kras

Mr. Waits

Bit of an indulgence, welcome back Tom.

What do you photograph?

A friend of mine asked me this question tonight and I found it very hard to answer.

I've been photographing stuff so long now that I can not remember when it all began. I have shots of scout days which would date it round about me being 8 years old, anyway, it's always been my way. I guess it's been mostly family and friends and pets. The usual stuff.

Now and again I come across a shot that gives me a double take. This one of my Dad was such a common scene to me after he'd come back from work and slept in the chair. We never really talked, not even when he was retired and moved to Norway. This was what I saw most nights and I'd be about 13 years old.

This one is me tucking in to a good salad.

Here is one of my old contact sheets. It's funny to see how I've not changed that much. Don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

And, this is why I photograph. This is Martin, my Norwegian brother in law in his most favourite place, and I think I got "the shot". It's not set up, just a quick snap. He's dead now, but this photograph makes him still alive to me.

Martin H Matre

Edit:

Just take a look at this:

My Tour - Kringlebotn

Kras

And now for something completely different

I'm not all about urban grittiness you know.

(Maybe 99% or so)

Remember, remember the fifth of November

This year I went to the local scout's firework display at Belchamps, Hockley. It's a good family event and they always put on a good display. So I thought I'd try my hand at taking some shots of the fireworks. Now, in all my years photographing I've never been interested in photographing pretty firework shots, not in the slightest bit. I knew when I was taking them that I was just going through the motions.

Kras

Documentary photographers dream

This kid is sixteen he's on curfew. He has to be home between
10pm and 7:30 am everyday while he's on bail for charges relating to relieving students of their mobile phones.

He could be looking at a couple of years if found guilty. Should that happen, he'll be the fifth member of his immediate family to have served time. That includes his absent father, his mother and his two sisters. One of his sisters is currently in a psychiatric unit, her three year old daughter is being looked after by family members. His other sister has a baby & a toddler to look after on her own, her fella is serving time and is not around when he's free.

If you saw that in a drama you'd think, nah... they've gone too far. Well it's true and a documentary photographers dream it may be. But the kids life
is basically a nightmare. I know too much about this boy, I know everything about him. That's because he's part of my family, his mother is my sister.


I don't get to wave my camera about and leave. I get kept awake at night
burdened by guilt and frustration and a feeling I could have and should have done more. More than this, this is not enough.
I once had a dream of becoming a documentary photographer, but I'm
having trouble not seeing them as self serving. They will dream of stories like
this, be great for their career then onwards and upwards


Lets face it, the biggest life changing impact that photographic stories have is on the photographers life, not "The Subject". What a shit term, every bit as bad as "The Victim, The Patient, The Client.

Or The Accused


Edit


Maybe it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway. Defending the boy is not defending his actions. Couldn't & wouldn't

Murmuration

So I was checking duck rabbit and found this

Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.

It made me think of E e Cummings beautiful poem, I wade out


I will wade out
till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
Alive
with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
Will i complete the mystery
of my flesh
I will rise
After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
And set my teeth in the silver of the moon



Sean

Or something to remind me

This is a shot of an old picture that was taken around 55/60 years ago. I recon most people will have shots like this somewhere in the attic or in an album. I'd never seen the old lady before in the center until I first looked at this picture in 2007, or the young boy, same for the girls. Well, apart from the girl on the left that is. It's my Mother Rosie

The old lady was my Grandmother, Hanna. The other girls are my aunts, the boy's my uncle. There's more of them, there was actually twelve of them. Once my Mother left Ireland, she was gone from their lives forever. She existed only in photographs and memory for them. We knew the woman, they knew the girl and she remained that for them in the photographs they kept of her. Never growing older than 18

In 2006 the boy in the photograph turned up at my brothers door. My brother had been trying to trace Ma's family and had left his details at a convent in cork. This ended up in the hands in my Uncle, and the rest as they say...

This is a shot from Danyy's wedding (my brother) last year. The fella on the right is the boy in the Photograph. He's Name is Maurice (Mossie for short)

I was raised just two miles from Manchester United Football ground, all our family are reds. My uncle mossies son just happens to be

For years he'd been coming to Man-U to watch his son play and looking for his sister without success, not knowing her family were just two miles away.

John Cooper Clarke

I may have mentioned once (or a thousand times) before that I hate gentrification.I hate Urban Splash even more...

Ben, Vera & Urban Splash. June 2007

The flats behind Vera & Ben were once full.
They were cleared out in 2006 to make way for Urban Splash
customers

Nov 20ll: They lie empty and derelict


The dirty whore came here to shite
My vengeance on him fall.
He stuck his finger up his arse
and wiped it on my wall

William Bergin (my father) was no John Cooper Clarke
But I think he summed up Urban Splash pretty well

If you haven't seen this, you should