Simplicity

Wow, has it really been 2 months–again? Sorry, I have been very distracted, not that I haven't been thinking of you.

I've been craving simplicity, and while my lightbox isn't meant to feature 'I' very heavily–at least in word–it is an unavoidable feature of current thought. I have a maxim, that unless you can do it for yourself you can't do it for other people (discuss - is this true?). Therefore, I've been taking care and taking stock, emerging from what has felt like a gruelling wintertime.

A rock to sit on, just inches above the permanently shifting ocean surface. A rock to watch, to reassure me that there are presences in life which are—thankfully—immovable and show up their features best under the swill of wave and tide. And an ocean of thought stretching out from my toes into a place that doesn't name itself as sky or sea, collecting my own thoughts into its belly and letting them exist unresolved and mysterious in origin.

This is a great space of paradox, letting me bring everything and then telling me about the eternity of unsolved mystery that everything will always be. And doesn't it look beautiful, and isn't its simplicity calming?


{Today's soundtrack: The squealing swifts outside my window, back from their African winter! It's so good to have them back.}

Dont' go outside!

Don't go outside - everyone's going mad, or angry, or both! Today, this evening, stay at home and play in your den. At all costs avoid going out there...

Put on some excellent music. Cook great food for each other. Tell stories and fill each other with a lightness of heart. Do some finger paintings and potato prints, play black jack, watch Life on Mars, don't do the ironing but do eat loads of green and blacks, shut your eyes and imagine the sun shining in all warm on your face and so bright you have to screw your eyes shut.

Out this afternoon on some errands, I was just pulling away at a green traffic light and a bloke student figure skipped out in front of me without looking. A shocked fist on my car horn made him jump, but in his recklessness he shoved his middle finger at me with a truly violent expression then pulled back his other hand as if to demolish my car by chucking his coke can at it with major force. Ouch... but he's the idiot isn't he?

30 seconds later, a coach pulled out on a minibus in front of me, and there was another middle finger communication from someone else, more car horns, and lane squeezing.

5 minutes later, I tripped into the lab to pick up some films, warning Bob-Behind-The-Counter "Don't go outside, they're all losing it!" He responded with a time and date for the end of the world. "Brilliant," I thought, and ran home as fast as I could. I haven't dared turn on the evening news.

Do not–under any circumstance–entertain that thing which seems to be in the air today, the thing that's causing people to be vicious and vile and pinched in the face. I know I sound like a hippy, but for God's sake, love each other, please. February's hard enough.


{Today's soundtrack: The Shins - Wincing the Night Away}

A Rock and a Hard Place

"I lift my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from?"

Just calculated it would take 36hrs to reach these particular hills if I left my home in Bristol right away, packing just a simple overnight bag, with a seat being available on the very next plane to Auckland and of course money being no object. (Oh, and of course aswell, carbon footprints being something we continue to ignore. Boo.)

Why this picture today?

It's 4.44am, and I can't sleep for thinking about a thing. It's a nice thing, but a situation I wish I was more involved with, and a situation I can do nothing about, and this continues to be the case despite it having been going on for weeks. It inspires me and frustrates me in equal measure, so I look to my great leveller, the hills.

Hills stop me looking down, I like them for that reason, and also the 'being tiny' phenomenon. If I had enough faith could I really move these very mighty statues of heaven? Either way, the being that sculpted form into those clay shapes has a pretty good clue how life is laid out so I try going with this for now. Anything of worth requires patience and strength.

Stuck a little bit between a rock and a hard place, and oddly I find the view beguiling.


{Middle of the night soundtrack: A nocturnal robin, and Justine Electra's 'Fancy Robots' - "put on your shoes, you know what to do"}

Nomads

Hello, I'm back.

With some very strong pairs of hands and persistent hearts to help, these wheels have been guided out of the ditch, at last! Thank goodness, and a tribute to perseverance. Thank you.

I'm really pleased to report that it is worth hanging in there. Don't give up, don't sell out your integrity, and be gracious in the face of it all. Although hard work, coming out the other side is a lovely feeling.

Keep moving.

Even though we wish life would stand still every once in a while, when it does so uninvited the frustration can be intense. But in the wilderness place I heard a little voice saying "keep going", so I did, and along the way learned things about growth, healing, becoming, as opposed to already being complete and having achieved those things.

A friend of mine talked at a wedding on Saturday and discussed how, as life is constantly changing, so are we, and we must therefore encourage each other as we grow, and seek to accommodate each other's changes rather than fight them. How brave, and generous, and it strikes me that you can't truly do this for another person until you can do it for yourself.

Someone once said, "Life moves pretty fast, and if you don't stop to look around once in a while, you could miss it."

We must keep moving with life because that's what it's there for, but if it should park up on you take a good look and see what's growing.


{Today's soundtrack: DJ Shadow - 'This Time' from The Outsider}

Things I've noticed

As I still don't have a computer, (if anyone's into praying please would they send one up that the insurance company stop trying to catch me out and just pay up - I know they're just doing their job but I'm no criminal and just need my tools back) posting to the lightbox is interrupted - you may have noticed. I thought I would leave you for a few days with some pictures I've taken in over the last couple of days. Simple, but seasonal.

*
A window coated in condenstation, some little rivers of water making their way down the pane so you see a real thick fog, but are not sure whether it's still condensation or the winter weather outside; does the source of your confusion really lie where you thought?
*
Satsumas: the little orange fruits remind me of a collection of people (segments) wrapped up together in a safe place. Hold it in your palm and wonder how it would feel if you were big enough to hold the world like that. Would it break your heart or melt you with compassion?
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Little flames on candles, always burning, always hopeful.
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Faces of friends sitting in the candlelight in my home, laughing at something ridiculous and eating food I've made, quiet looks towards each other that give away how important we each feel it is to be there together - but those glances are fleeting. Watch carefully...
*

Here's to being confused, seeking the company of friends to keep you on track and loved up, and having a time of year that's designated to treasuring those very people. A happy and peaceful Christmas.

Square or Circle?

[In response to John's comment on the last post, about being mocked for still wanting to work on film]

Here's a thing to try.

Go down to Jessops and - just for kicks - ask for some medium format polaroid film. I did this recently. It's the only time I've ever felt like I've just spoken a foreign language fluently.

Bring on the counter-revolution! These people that are reeling out of control with gadgets and wires and batteries and chargers and photoshop and flash cards and external hard drives, jpeg and RAW and white balance and more megapixels than you, if they ditch out on film they're missing something fundamental about being alive, which is this:

At our heart we are not square like the pixel, we're round, like those delicious little light sensitive grains.

Pixels serve their purpose, I know this as much as the next guy (I've made my living for years through being great in Photoshop etc. and make healthy work across both film and digi) but pixels are still square, with hard edges and sharp corners. This whole issue about film or digital gets very tedious. I like to think that those who matter will judge on the quality of image you make, not the configuration of kit you're packing.


{Today's soundtrack: Sufjan Stevens - Come On Feel the Illinoise}

Liminal

In between things...

I never wanted to be so beholden to technology as to miss using my lightbox for a few days but that's just what's happening! When it's all running smoothly it's easy to take for granted. I guess this is a good sign though, that my little adventure in www is coming to mean quite a lot.

A friend emailed me this week encouraging me not to worry about losing kit, because being a photographer is a state of mind. I'm glad she said this, just when I was feeling insecure about not having all the gadgets, although I'm not sure I'll be having a go at the project of making a pinhole camera out of my a-hole. Thanks for that back to basics suggestion honey...

Today's horrible job was filling in the insurance claim, and collecting quotes from camera suppliers. They shall remain nameless, but in future guys-behind-counters, don't patronise me about wanting to still buy a film camera just because your employers are following the herds into digital. This ordeal is bad enough as it is, and you're meant to be on my side. Ok, enough.

Oh, and another thing, this week my excellent sister took me to see DJ Shadow play his instruments. He was incredible. I told him I loved him, and a few hundred people laughed but I think he heard me. It was a diamond of a night in amongst all the coal of late. Thanks G star, you rock like that Shadow genius *****

Mountains and Molehills

Today's picture is from a project I'm doing about South African street kids. This little acrobat lives in the utter horror of a beaten, raped and glue-doped street life, yet this is what he does with an open space and an ounce of permission to use it. I have this on my wall at home and sat staring at it yesterday in the midst of my own odd aftermath.

This week I've been trying really hard to get a grip. Despite last week's initial calm response to being robbed, the impact of having the tools of my expression stolen has hit like a demolition ball in the gut, and I have hurt a lot these past few days.

But I have really tried to keep perspective and look around me at what else is still going on in the world. My house hasn't blown down in a tornado, no one has been physically attacked, and I am now over the feeling of being scared in my own home at night.

Is it all relative? I don't think so.

It doesn't do to get into the game of competitive trauma—if something rocks you to your core it's still significant, whether personal bereavement or burning toast. That's not meant to sound trite, but just to suggest (having come up against some surprising issues this last week) that if your 'relative' molehill is feeling like a mountain then there's probably good reason. Give it the attention it needs, and get help doing so because other people can be great in helping you get the real measure of it. Don't be afraid to call everthing to account. If it does you in, okay, but don't let it go unquestioned.

Thank you to everyone who has been in touch and poured a lot of love in my direction over the last week—you're brilliant. The tears are slowly drying up and I think it's going to be okay. x


{Today's soundtrack: Stevie Wonder - anything you've got!}

oh no...

I've had all my camera gear nicked. It was stolen while I was shooting a wedding - cameras, laptop, films, phone, wallet, keys, the lot.

Today, the pictures I have are those in my head, and I am wondering if I will be able to write about what I saw for the couple whose wedding I was shooting at the time. Using my words alone, can I do any justice to the memory of that day for those people who made those vows in front of those friends?

For the couple concerned, I am utterly speechless - I don't think I can string a sentence together.

Furthermore, my little world was in that case, at least I thought. But it turns out that my world is actually more embedded in the essence of close friendships and loving kindness of family who have held me together over the last couple of days. Essence can't be stolen, not that easily.

I think this: there are two choices here - one, to freeze up and let this stop everything, or two, (which I prefer) to get straight into the darkroom and print up images that remind me why I do this in the first place. I'm praying that the heart of a desperate thief melts, but know the blessings are already happening elsewhere in the amazing community of people who have gathered around to help and see a postive outcome here.

All is not lost. What were my own words? Take heart, you have everything to gain.

A Walk With Robbie

My friend Robbie came to stay at the weekend, and we went for a lovely walk around Bristol docks in the late autumn sun, stopping for a while to enjoy making polaroids in an old, time-untouched place. It's nice being in a slow place, if only you let it slow you down too.


Let it be, let it be. Let each other be.


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Noise

Life can be so noisy, even when you think you're quietly looking out of a window. I wondered why the old nerves felt frazzled, then these pictures from a bus journey through London (just three from a set of roughly 100) explained it clearly. They are not manipulated in any way, just shown exactly as the view was shot.


Overload is stealthy—it comes up and bites from nowhere because it banks on our blindness to act as it's shield. But I guess like the ancient tai chi, use these images to harness the strength of your enemy, turning it around and back out again. Search for rhythm and space, find your place in the scene and enjoy life on its move again.



{today's soundtrack: little birds tweeting and a calm breeze}

Lois

I love Lois. I'm sometimes afraid to interrupt her if I see her out walking in town, partly because I think she may not remember me, and partly for the very reason that I love her, which is this: Lois is a person who - just by her very presence - will not let you get away with half-living. She invests meaning in every step, looks around and really sees things, and her careful words emerge from hours of solitude and silence. If you do engage with her it has to be in honesty and with depth. You can't really get away with a gift-wrapped life when Lois is asking the questions which, for a woman approaching 90, shows richness of the kind I hope I have if I manage to reach that age too.


Fears of not being remembered are silly. It's been a few years since we last spoke, but I saw her recently and she came over and gave me a beautiful, warm, peace-filled hug, then immediately told me how exhilarating it had been going to the huge Bonfire Night fireworks display in Bristol the night before. She walked up to the park on her own, but enjoyed having thousands of companions there in the crowd, not feeling lonely or afraid. She really lives, working hard to ensure nothing gets switched off or dusty through lack of care or attention.


I love Lois. Just by her very presence you cannot get away with half-living. She won't tolerate it.


{Today's soundtrack on request: Glen Campbell - Wicheta Lineman}