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Showing posts from April, 2008

Oh Lordy

Had on my Bridgend Specials today, trousers so horrible that offing myself crosses my mind whenever I notice them (which, given the driving rain accompanying me both to, from and during work, was quite often as they flapped soddenly round my lillywhite ankles). Down to 3 pairs for work at the moment, partly because I am obviously freakishly dysmorphic judging by the sizes on offer in the shops, and partly because buying trousers has to be up there with digging your own grave on the list of things one wouldn't want to spend one's spare time doing.

Tin Ears?

What happens when one of the world's foremost violinists busks during rush hour - does he make much cash? Find out here in a great multi-media, well thought out article that makes for very interesting reading.

Twine: A Work in Progress

Am trying out the beta of Twine. Don't quite get it yet but watch this space.

Update 30/04: It doesn't work. "Twine This" - I can't. Report the problem? It comes up with a link to a hotmail account I haven't used in centuries (admittedly probably a problem with my computer set up perhaps).


Benches, Kew Gardens

My Eyes - courtesy of today's eye exam

See my Flickr stream for a full run down on the ins and outs of my lazy eye should your life be incomplete without this information.
I can, I must say, heartily recommend Vision Express - very professional, very clear, a special offer on the eye exam meant very inexpensive, and all in all very reassuring. Their glasses are not cheap but the service I had today was exemplary.
Up top is my lazy right eye, below is the better functioning left. I was told not to worry about the darker red areas - dust on the machine apparently.
Do go to Vision Express if you are in need of a check up - after all, it isn't every day that you get photos of close ups of your body parts to post on the interwebs.

Empty Benches in the Sun

You know, I like my "Empty Bench" series and the fact that nobody else does? Well to hell with them.

Sackler Bridge, Kew Gardens


Depressed Moorhen 2

Depressed Moorhen

Florentine sunset

Photography as Art

Having spent Friday night in prison in Oxford I wanted to recuperate a little yesterday and so took the time to visit the Ansel Adams exhibition at Oxford's modern art museum. Now, back when I were a nipper during my phirst phase of photographic interest, between the ages of about 18 and 25 (before the Exeter sojourn and the heavy-duty clubbing period thereafter), I remember I loved his work. However, since then, sadly, a more cynical Patrick held sway for a while (cynicism, for a long while, being my idea of sophistication) and I rather went off his pictures, or at least, the idea of his pictures. It seemed to me that everyone who had even the remotest interest in photography cited Adams as a key influence and criticism of him appeared off-limits. During this time I wasn't even sure that photography was an art, and that Adams couldn't be as good as I'd thought because he earned near universal praise for his work (I know, strange distorted thinking, but that's how …

Buddha, Ashmolean, Oxford


The Heffalump Comment

Heffalump comment: visible both here and at Flickr - one is initially excited to see that one has a comment, only to discover that it is a reference to one that the author oneself has left in reply to someone else's musings (normally, of course, their musings are singular).



This one is growing on me more and more. A bit cheesy I thought at first, but now I'm coming back to it frequently and thinking fondly of Florence in the spring, the beautiful old city somehow able to remain aloof above, behind and around the teeming hordes. You can go, you can see, you can try and capture the essence, but you won't be able to spoil the city - which makes you feel kind of good.

Somerset House

My Bedside Table

There was a great article on this theme in the Guardian yesterday which gave some interesting insights into how people operate, or at least how they might want other people to perceive them to operate. Anyway, I present to you my bedside table. The writing is a bit unclear - apologies. Essentially, however, the picture shows a radio alarm tuned to BBC radio four. Goes off six thirty. Thus is the getting-ready-for-work routine carried out to the cadences of the Today programme. Next up: some tablets - probably medicines will come to dominate more and more space as I get older, but for now at any rate they don't take up much room. Then there is the photography magazine - late night reading for inspiration, education and techno-lust. Then we have some random sunglasses - not sure why they are there; they are not prescription so, when wearing them, although I look as cool as Officer Francis Llewellyn "Ponch" Poncherello from CHIPS (!)*, I can actually see bugger all. A book …

The Women of World War II: Memorial, Whitehall

The London Marathon today meant that Whitehall was closed to traffic so shots such as this were possible.

'ello 'ello.....

Earl Haig's Hoss, Whitehall

Nice Ass (!)

The War Against Terror (TWAT): Downing Street

Ooh, thanks Tony, I feel much safer now.
By the way, I in no way mean to imply the occifer is a twat, rather that his ultimate boss, the PM, was and, of course, the current one has done little to change this perception.

London Marathon Supporters

Hey, listen, it is my first attempt so stop laughing at the back

Hurricane on Richmond Green.

Shedding light on China

First London, now Paris: fiasco in the streets. How marvellous. I don't, I'm afraid, have a deep understanding of the history of Tibet but then I wasn't taking part just for that poor benighted country, I was there to oppose Chinese human rights abuses in general. Oh I know, it was a little thing and but a pinprick on the elephant, but still it felt good. I hope San Francisco continues the trend.

World gone White

Winter redux

From sunny Firenze to this...

Richmond Park this morning. Pretty while it lasted.

View across the Arno towards the Uffizi

Florence from San Miniato

Typical scene in Florence


Campanile, Florence, HDR

The Duomo, Florence

d. aged 82

There are worse places to die