Just another photo album

My first Photo Album.

I've been doing a bit of moonlighting over on Latticed Window for the past month. I'm not afraid to admit I've become a little obsessed with collecting other peoples photo albums at the local auction houses. I asked a good friend recently for some advice, they said "Without obsession, no art. Go with the flow on this and you'll see! I shit you not!"

Anyway, it got me thinking about my own photo albums, so I dug out my very first album today.

When I was about 8 or 9 years old my Norwegian uncle Johan gave me my first camera. I instantly loved it. Money for film and processing was a problem, but I was lucky enough to have a paper round and a Saturday job fixing bicycles at a family friends shop, so most of that went towards the cost.

First camera

I've no idea where I got the Norfolk Photo Album, I can only guess I picked it up at one of the Scouts jumble sales. I was very pleased with it, that I can remember.The first photos are from a Scout Summer Camp round about 1973 or 1974.

I loved camping and at the moment Sean, Diane and I are trying to convince Angie to give it a go (not much luck so far!). I bought my first tent which I still have. I was very proud of it and later on that tent would be with me in my teens hitch hiking round the country.

I'd also take a lot of snaps of my family and pets.

Mum and my Finnish Aunt Katrina

Jenta the German Shepherd and my cat Trampas

Sometimes I'd be in the picture.

Me and my big sister Kina

I was very interested in ornithology at this time. We found an injured black headed gull on the seafront which I had great fun in nursing back to health.

In 1974 when I was 10, my Mum and I went on a trip to Norway. It was the first time I went there that I could remember. We started in Oslo visiting family and moved on to Stavanger then Bergen and then finally up North to where my Norwegian family originated from in Brattvåg. It was a fantastic trip.

Me (Norway in the background)

On the way to Bergen

It was not until arriving in Stavanger that my photography took a major turn. We stayed with Mum's friend Brita and her husband Tony. Tony was a keen photographer and saw that I'd got an interest so we went off to the lake to shoot a sunset, my first ever. I was surprised when he said just point it at the sun, it'll be ok. We stayed for a few days and he showed me how to process some film and print some black and white photos. From that day on I have Tony Ions to thank for sparking my life long interest in photography.

Stavanger 1974

To see the entire Norfolk Photo Album click on the slideshow.

Ken

Wilko Johnson

Not much more can be said about Wilko. He is a true hero and an incredible inspiration for everyone.

Read and listen.

It's not a Wilko or Feelgoods song, but this song by Ben Caplan is just so fitting.

Ken

People Like Us

There's a new fly on the wall documentary tonight on BBC 3 focusing on the lives of the people of Harpurhey in Manchester. It's a place I know well, I only live down the road from it now. I went to school with kids from Harpurey, knocked around with kids from Harpurhey. It's only a couple of miles out the city centre. I guess its most famous for being the home of the late Bernard Mannings "World Famous" Embassy club.  It did earn itself the label of being the poorest place in England a number of years back, but to my mind Harpurhey is a typical inner city area of Manchester.  The Doc will include Monsall and Moston which border Harpurhey but are essentially the same place as far as life goes. Both mine and Diane's parents are buried at the cemetery on Mostan Lane, where much of the doc is set around


I'll be interested to see how this is handled, from the clips I've seen it looks like it's going to go down the My Big Fat Gypsie Wedding, route. I'm sure there'll be some tender moments, some humor too. But there's going to be some sneering.

"BBC Three spent a crazy summer with the young people of Harpurhey"



I remeber it being pretty wet really

Drum Roll...

This is my new website


 I've tried places like smugmug and moonfruit but I was never happy. I've gone with aphotofolio  which is used by the likes of Mark Tucker and Christopher Anderson (of Magnum). The cost was a one of payment of $1000 and there's a $17 dollor a month fee. When I consider how much dough I've spent on gear over the years, I think I've got a bargain.

When it comes to photography websites, I either like Black or White. For now at least I think I'll stick with black, though I could change to white in 60 seconds.  There's eight different designs, mine's 6


Cheers


Edit:

Have since seen the white

THE ANCOATS SKYLARK.

"Perhaps it was difficult for people to understand the extraordinary

ignorance of town children in such districts as he was referring to

respecting the commonest natural objects. The other day he was

inspecting a school in Ancoats, and the boys in the first class were

repeating some poetry they had learnt about a skylark. He enquired

whether anyone had ever seen a lark ; there was a silence, but a boy

presently held out his hand to signify he wished to speak, and on his

saying, " Well, where did you see a lark ? " he answered, " In the

public-house at the corner of the street, in a cage." He (Mr. Oakeley)

thought, "Poor caged lark, and poor caged little lad."

—

Speech of

Mr. H. E. Oakeley, H.M. Senior Inspector of Schools, at the opening

of the Manchester School Board Central Higher. Grade School, July,

1884.

The Ancoats Skylark

WILLIAM E. A. AXON 

'T'HE day was hot, the summer sun

Pierced through the city gloom ;

It touched the teacher's anxious face,

It brightened all the room.

Around him children of the poor,

III fed, with clothing scant,

The flotsam of the social wreck.

The heirs of work and want.

The sunlight glorified their rags

As he essayed to tell

The wonders of the country side,

Of clough, and burn, and fell.

For, as he spoke, the schoolroom walls

Kept fading from his sight.

He stood upon his native hills,

All bathed in golden light.Once more he heard the skylark sing,

Sing right at heaven's door,

And fill the span of earth beneath

With music from its store.

A summer cloud sailed o'er the sky.

The sunlight passed away,

The teacher saw his puny boys

With city grime all grey.

" And which of you has heard a lark,

" Or seen its fluttering wings,

" As o'er the hills of Lancashire

" It rises and it sings ?

" Ah, no, the hills are far away,

" From Ancoats' toil and stress.

" The skylark, have you heard its song

" Or seen its homely dress ?

"

A silence fell upon the class,

On all the listening ring.

Then one said, " Sir, I've seen a lark,

" And heard him loudly sing."

" And where, my little Ancoats lad,

" Did you the layrock see ?

"

" 'Twas in a wooden cage that hung

" Outside the ' Cotton Tree.'

"

Alas, poor bird ! chained thus amidst

The city's smoke and gloom.

No more for thee the sunny sky.

The wild flower's sweet perfume.

Alas, poor caged Ancoats boy !

That freedom's song ne'er heard

Trilled o'er the fells of Lancashire

By this bright poet-bird.Alas the teacher, who of hills

The dear delight has known,

And, now amidst the city slums,

Is bound by walls of stone.

And yet the teacher finds it joy

To help the laddish throng

;

The boy is blithe, and strong of heart,

The bird ne'er fails in song.

So may the teacher's magic art.

The bird's melodious ditty,

The sunshine of the boyish heart.

Ne'er fade from out the city.

Until the time once more shall come.

When free from bars and ties,

The bonny layrock's song shall thrill

Through all the Ancoats skies.

Page 35 

THE PHOTOGRAPHIC ART.

From Leo. XIII.

"THE sun's bright pencil's flaming tip

Has drawn the image we descry

—

Drawn ample brow and smiling lip

And tender light of beaming eye.

O wondrous art, invention rare,

A marvel subtle, strange and new !

Apelles, Nature's rival, ne'er

So beautiful a picture drew."

Picture making

Being there

 

1/250 sec of a 86400 second day

Sledging part ll

Can't believe the snow shifted in 24hrs

Samantha

Dee eats snow

It got competitive 

Sledge Team

Fin