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What?

You think this blog and the photographs here are all over the shop? You're right. No themes, a big ol' mess of pottage. Portraits, actors, gardens, family, weddings, kids, seascapes, cats, dogs, bishbashbosh. All over the shop. Well, wait 'til you see my notebooks. Only, of course, they are objects, so you won't. But let me tell you, if you think these pages and pages of non-linear posts, these styleless ramblings are random, honest, the notebooks are "worse". Or better. Whatevs. I'm tending towards the better nowadays, in part because to hell with it, so I don't have a "style", I haven't found my "voice" and I no longer care. No one gives a monkey's dinkum so why should I? Look for example, here's something from my latest notebook:


The underlying pictures are by Stephen Shore - I have no idea what they are about, what they mean, other than perhaps they are somehow meant to represent pure seeing - that is to say, recreating the act of seeing a scene without consciousness of the camera as a device for translation. Anyway. It was meant to be an homage, paean, to Peter Beard, until I found out what a dipstick he was by listening to an interview with him. So now the above is left drifting with nowhere to go, with only the viewer able to impute some meaning to it, to graft something on post hoc. Good luck with that.  I guess I can't wholly remove the PB references though, but just remember - once done with admiration, there's none of that now.
One other thing: before you judge, remember, you need to see the original to truly make your mind up - in context and in the flesh it makes some sort of sense.

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My trouble is

when I'm confronted with a request for headshots, say, I can't just stop there I have to start experimenting. I mean, you wouldn't put this on Spotlight or the IMDb now would you? Ah well, I wouldn't do it if I couldn't, if you see what I mean. Above is the ever-beautiful Claire-Monique Martin taken on Friday. Other photographs were procured.

Trump'ed on

You're probably sick of reading Niemöller's quote but here it is again - why not have another butcher's':

"First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out— 
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— 
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me."

(from The Holocaust Encyclopedia).

I've read it so many times throughout my life that when it appeared in my Facebook feed I'd roll my eyes and scroll past wondering why some unimaginative ass had bothered to post it yet again - didn't we all already know it off by bloody heart?

And now here I am, another unimaginative ass, posting it on the web and ensuring that both my readers are pissed off and bored. Only it does have a new urgency now doesn't it? I mean with The Orange One in power it becomes resonant again…

Waltercio Caldas

Portrait taken at Cecilia Brunson Project, Bermondsey.

From Wikipedia:

Waltércio Caldas Júnior (born 6 November 1946), also known as Waltércio Caldas, is a Brazilian sculptor, designer, and graphic artist. Caldas is best known as part of Brazil's Neo-Concretism movement as well as for his eclectic choices in materials.