Category Archives: photography

literature, photography

the sun blazes into view, spinning bright

…and metallic against your eyeballs, ionizing the water’s surface so you can’t see a bit of pollution or crud underneath. It looks mystical, biblical. It raises a lump in your throat.

I haven’t had a day off in 18 days. And even that day, 19 days ago, didn’t really count as a day off, because I wasn’t feeling well for one reason or another. Nothing to do with Jack Daniels. And I’ve got two more juicy days of work ahead of me. But it’s not all that bad because I saw my name in print for the first time today. Nice. But like I say, I’ve got a manic couple of days ahead, so I probably won’t be around here much. Follow me on twitter, though. No doubt I’ll have some right-wing not-right to moan about on there. Anyway, I’m off to bed to finish my book. More on that when I’m done – I just thought I’d better check in and ask you all to stick around. I’ll be right back!

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doodlings, photography

oh my friend you haven’t changed, you’re looking rough and living strange

So, I’ve got the afternoon off. I planned to come home and send out a few emails, you know, catch up on my admin. But no. Hotmail is not working. For, I think, the first time ever? So now I feel stranded. I’ve just had a banana and a diet coke. And that’s about all I have to report. Oh, apart from the fact that when I wore my new jeans for the first time the other day, they ended up with beer all over them (booze Britain) so I washed them immediately. Stepped out in them for the second time today and have come home with mud splashed up the back of my leg. It’s not even raining? Only me. Harumph. And now, because I’m so annoyed about all of the above and more, here’s an aesthetically pleasing picture.

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literature, photography

not that he talked a lot – kienschaper wasn’t a great talker.

But when he took her to his apiary and told her about the life of bees, which were creatures he loved with a passion, when he walked with her through the fields in the evening and showed her how untidily a certain field was sown and with how little effort it could be made far more productive, when Kienschaper helped a cow to calve or, unasked, righted a toppled fence, when he sat at the organ and improvised for the two of them, when everywhere he went looked tidy and at peace for his having been there – then that did more than any words could do for Eva’s contentment. It was a life gently inclined toward its end, peaceful and bringing peace in a time full of hatred, blood and tears.

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fashion, photography

if you ever see a face like hers

I left the house for the first time in four days earlier. I was excited to begin with but quickly realised I’m still not one hundred per cent and that the general public are generally vile. Like the man picking and sucking his tooth behind me in a queue (apparently he didn’t notice the fact that I kept turning round to glare at him). Honestly though, are people for real? After getting the few bits I needed, I hurried straight home to snuggle back up. I may or may not have watched another episode of The Model Agency which I discovered on 4od last night. I wish I hadn’t found it. I wish there weren’t seven episodes waiting for me. I’m going to have to ration myself. It is so addictive. There’s one girl featured in the documentary who reminded me instantly of Penelope Tree. Which can only be a good thing.

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music, photography

hello darkness, my old friend

…i’ve come to talk with you again,
because a vision softly creeping,
left its seeds while i was sleeping;
and the vision that was planted in my brain
still remains, with the sound of silence.

in restless dreams i walked alone,
narrow streets of cobblestone.
‘neath the halo of a streetlamp,
i turned my collar to the cold a damp,
and my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
that split the night
and touched the sound of silence.

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