We held a science party for the kids a couple of years ago and a chap turned up in a lab coat. He made goo, they played with bubbles, and then he dropped mints into a bottle of fizzy something or other.
This was meant to be part of a triptych – before, during and after – but the motion is best displayed here:
On the road from Neshapur to Mashad.
There’s a poem somewhere in the stillness of the mountains and the blur of the car rushing by.
The title is from one of my favourite songs by Mary Chapin Carpenter.
End
Building site near Qom, Iran
Before the walls go up…
City of London School
Linked to Symmetry
The Shard dominates the south bank between Tower Bridge and Southwark Bridge. Whatever other feelings it may inspire it is also useful if, like me, you like to learn an area by getting thoroughly lost in it, and then need to find your way back.
In it shadows you can find odd moments like this where any number of interpretations of angular shapes collide. This is in the little cut through from the north end of Borough Market to Hays Galleria. The Shard is of course ever present.
With this handy reference point I have started to learn my way around Bermondsey. Perhaps not something a Finchley boy should admit to.
Back on the civilised side of the river and looking back at the Mayoral Folly, More London Place, and it.
As a North Londoner I am having to make a slight geographical adjustment, the South Bank is not South London. The Sarf, is a barely habitable hinterland populated by barbarians and connected by nonsensically curving roads. Horse and cart country in the space age. The South Bank is a vibrant enclave of architecture and culture, with odd artistic gestures thrown in.
The block in the above serves no purpose. It just is. Perhaps the South Bank does share some characteristics with South London after all.
The mayor’s office is a lopsided little folly, and it is approached by way of this grey amphitheatre.
And then of course, because I was wondering around on the 11th of the 11th I hopped over the bridge to look at some poppies.
Studies on the theme of height and descent. First a short drop at great speed:
Ducks landing
Picking up the pace to a quicker descent, although still well controlled:
Hill slide at Godstone Farm
And then a wanted and unwanted descent, while the red slide is quick and hazardous, I’d prefer it to a fall from the pear tree.
Looking down at the treehouse from the middle of the pear tree
And finally another hat tip to mother nature, a muddy descent and the fallen tree descending back into her embrace.
Fallen tree at Groomsbridge
Only the ducks were taken with my camera, the rest were off my phone. And if the title has left you with a hankering for a sing a long, here are Runrig and the Tartan Army.
END
I’ve tried my hand at cover art already, although if sales are anything to go by it isn’t my strong suit. The flowers are from the Munstead Wood rose in the garden (affectionately known as Mundungus).
The Hajj cover went through several iterations, eventually the beveling on the text helped it stand out while giving me a colour I could use for both the title and author.
There was a meme that did the rounds on the book of faces in 2009 which was a bit of fun. If you are stuck for ideas try this:
1 – Go to “Wikipedia” and hit Random Article or click
The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.
2 – Go to “Random quotations” or click
The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.
3 – Go to “flickr” and explore the last seven days or click
The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
4 – Use Photoshop or similar to put it all together.
Remember to watermark the picture to credit the original artist!
END
I love Bloomsbury. In between the tree lined streets and the garden squares you come across the oddest of shops. In that magical way of the best odd shops you feel like you have never seen them before, and that they have been there forever.
This time is was L Cornellison and Son an art supplier for the very serious painter. It had an air of Ollivanders, and the costume shop from Mr Ben, where turning a corner could take you into another world.
It also struck me as an interesting place to study light – that essential medium for both the artist and the photographer.
The staff were a little bemused that I wanted to take pictures, but kindly let me do so as long as I didn’t snap them or any of the customers, which was fine, my interest was in objects not people.
A case in point was this case, which I half expected to fly open with a selection of wands ready to choose me.
I kept the light deliberately low on these brushes, there was something about the auburn bristles that was very compelling.
I liked the play of light against the different colours in the bottles, the only slight change to the setting of the shelf was to twist the Copaiba Balsam to hide the price, because that cheapened the whole composition (although it was ruinously expensive).
A drawer full of pastels to round things off.
End
A bit of photoshopping to bring out the play of light in the actual and the reflected.
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