Sunday, 28 June 2009

light and more light

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did a photo shoot with john and stavroula the other day and its probably the worst set of photos i've ever shot [nothing to do with this image] we set out to do something and never did it, the original idea was hijacked and the result is embarrassing apart from the lesson learnt. focus and control need to be maintained and if there are only two shots to be had then two shots it is.
quote from aperture magazine: 'there is a kind of image that, although quite serene in itself, is charged with energy and dynamism. in such images the drama per se may not be overt, and yet its weight is felt in this calm moment'

Bad Intentions

(Ravaged by my bad intentions to Labradors).
Lip tinted
Apostate.

Knowing you posed those last photographs for him,
deceiving your planes
into Rembrandt's molded curves.
Fingertip memento
mislaid;
tedious as piano notes
embedded in a sweltering afternoon.

Wednesday, 24 June 2009

time to adjust the temperament




what creates a sense of place that transcends the actual? - silk curtains read as plastic by a lens. and then some thoughts conjured by john's 3rd installment of the blonde woman - the present is eternally infernally shaping itself, puppet on the strings of what will be what was, a shadow dance or ghost in a double exposure; is it really there? perhaps only in moments like when the earthquake shunts the house about and you sit terrified in the very lengthy here and now - a state of suspension - true.
can one live in the present, in the moment unless one is an amnesiac, but even amnesia must have a memory/sense of the future?
still days on the beach, no ripples in the water also - this allows the present to be just as it is meant to be - the adventure we speak of - a boat passing - come on john, lets go swim... o and i love this line - an Aladdin’s lamp - bright - new - all rub and no genie
i have some images at fstop - group exhibit

Wednesday, 17 June 2009

after a long hiatus - some doubles

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once upon a time, not so very long ago yet not so recently, everything imitated everything else - Pamuk, my name is red