[I originally posted this image as early access for my Patreon patrons on 24 December 2020].
This is the final season’s grievings image I’ll be sharing to my blog in 2020.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this festive mini-series.
decorating the tree
[I originally posted this image as early access for my Patreon patrons on 24 December 2020].
deck the halls
[I originally posted this image as early access for my Patreon patrons on 24 December 2020].
untitled #147
[I originally posted this image as early access for my Patreon patrons on 22 December 2020].
now bring us some figgy pudding
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 December 2020].
There's a whole post to come about my first visit to Kensal Green Cemetery; one of the 'magnificent seven' London cemeteries.
But, between now and Christmas Day, I'll be sharing a few more season's grievings images I took during my visit, including this one.
Images from this mini-series had previously been shared early access for my Patreon patrons two days before making them public to the rest of the world.
But I have a few I want to share so they'll become public closer to 24 hours after original posting there in the lead-up to Christmas.
After Christmas, new images from the series will be available early access to my patrons a week before the rest of the world.
lean into it
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See the best of my new and newly-edited work up to a week before the rest of the world.
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underpass overpass
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 September 2020].
This is another photograph I submitted to issue #149 of Shots Magazine.
Extras role in the background for the Albert Road gasworks.
untitled #47
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 20 September 2020].
I took this on a photo walk with my friend and fellow photographer, Scott, on my birthday in 2018.
It was taken in Bloomberg Arcade, a spot which is very close to two of my last workplaces but that I rarely passed through. I think this was only the second or third time I'd been there.
This was one of two photographs of Bloomberg London that I submitted to Issue #149 of Shots Magazine.
untitled #98
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 September 2020].
This is another photograph I submitted to issue #149 of Shots Magazine.
The Albert Road gasworks in New Barnet looming in silhouette over neighbouring houses during the blue hour in winter 2018.
into the blue
They walked together in the cold dusk air in silence. Holding hands, gazing up at the clouds moving across the sky. The clouds transforming, breaking apart and reforming, moulded by the wind before their eyes. The blue hour came and went as they walked along the beach; a layer of sand clinging to their damp feet, the excess falling from their toes as they walked. The clouds, at first plump and white before sunset, became thin and wispy and moved at the whim of the salty night air. As the sky darkened and the sun disappeared below the horizon the clouds became less and less distinct from the sky. But as the moon rose in the sky and the clouds moved between them and it, the moon’s glow picked out the frayed edges of the clouds. They watched as the shapes of the clouds morphed, reminding each of them of one thing then another.
As they moved through the club, the music so loud they felt it in their bellies, the lights moved through their cycle of colours. Pink, red and yellow, then green, violet and blue. The strobe pulsed with the bass. Lighting up the dancefloor like a camera flash; capturing still moments while dancers moved in time with the music. She led him by the hand as they walked through the crowded club. They made a bee-line toward the dancefloor sticky with spilt drinks and humid from the sweat of so many bodies in such a small space. The smoke machine by the DJ's booth belched out coconut-scented smoke, masking the odour of so many sweaty bodies and the scent of sex. They danced for a while; favourite songs pouring out of the speakers. Their bodies in rhythm with each other from so many nights spent together on dancefloors around town. When they'd had enough they collapsed into each other on a stained and worn velour couch that's original colour was now hard to discern even when the house lights went up at 5 am. They sank blissfully into the couch and each other's arms.
They sat on the sand, the headlights from his car providing light for them to see each other by. Rugged up in coats and blankets, mittens and beanies, they curled up close to draw heat from each other. They couldn't light a fire on the beach, so they shivered in the spotlight of the low beams, watching the fog drift in from the sea and their warm breath billow against the cold night air. They giggled together as they attempted to blow smoke rings into the sky. The car radio, picking up the only station nearby, played a mixture of golden oldies, and love songs and dedications. They pressed their faces, blushed pink from the cold, together in an attempt to bring feeling back to flesh. Their warm breath mingled and rose into the cold night air as though from one person. They lay back to stare up at the cloudless sky and the stars overhead as the classic hits continued to pour from the tinny speakers in the car’s dashboard.
Their clothes were strewn behind them, discarded on the sand like breadcrumbs in fairytales, as they ran through the rain toward the waves. The beach was deserted this time of night, especially in this inclement weather. There was no one around to see their antics or their naked bodies as they ran into the water. The water still warm from the heat of the sun earlier in the day, but cooling on their skin. They waded together and splashed each other with the salty, foamy water as they moved into the shallows. As they sauntered further in they savoured the lapping tide moving against their bodies and the rain falling on their bare skin. The water now up to their waists, they clasped hands again and moved out until the water was almost up to their shoulders. They leaned their heads back in the water, lifting their feet off the seabed, floating with eyes up toward the sky. After allowing their bodies to float for a while, they swam together, heads under the water. They rolled over in the water from time to time and opened their eyes to look up at the night sky through the waves. Watching the ripples of moonlight and the lights along the boardwalk refracting through the water's surface. Marvelling at the patterns and shapes of light drifting through the water. Lost together in the beauty of the moment and submerged in their muted underwater world.
overpass
As children, they crossed the overpass every day. They congregated near the 'tin tabernacle' as each of them arrived. They swung their schoolbags, pulled up their white knee-high socks, and lingered as long as they could by the entrance to the overpass.
They talked about antics in the schoolyard the previous day. They gossiped about the boys they liked and the girls they didn't. They compared their bruises and blisters from swinging and twirling on the monkey bars the day before.
Sarah would always have some sweets to share, but she doled them out like party favours to each girl in turn. You knew whether you were Sarah's 'favourite' today by the order in which you received your chocolate drop or musk stick. Or if you got stuck with a black jelly-baby. No one else liked the liquorice-flavoured jelly-babies, but she did. So she didn't mind if she was last in line for sweets from time to time.
They didn't have to catch the train to school. In truth, they didn't actually have to pass the station at all to get there. But they detoured by the station to watch the trains pass by, thinking of where it might take them away from here. They thought the men and women in their suits were so sophisticated and stylish. They wondered at what they might find at the other end of the line, in the city. A destination that seemed so magical and far away from their suburban homes.
They stood on tiptoe trying to see the train as it pulled in to the station and then pulled away. The shorter girls warped the plastic sides of their lunchboxes as they stood on them to see. The steel barriers were set so high they could barely see the train until it was almost gone.
They talked non-stop about how different their lives would be if they lived in the city. How much more exciting and glamorous their lives would be then. Because, of course, one day they would live in the city. One day they would meet nice boys, get married, and be swept away from the dull part of town in which they now lived. But not the boys from their school. None of them were nice. Well, except that one boy.
They skipped across the overpass, realising they'd lingered and chattered too long. They had mere minutes before the school bell would ring out across the train tracks to tell them they were late again. Their teachers would give them stern looks, knowing they'd dawdled, not been attentive. Too distracted by other things to arrive on time and avoid disruption to the class, again. Their skipping accelerated to a run as they imagined the stern words they'd hear as they found their seats in class.
As she stood at the end of the overpass, her mind ran over those memories. In her mind's eye she watched the girls laugh and wave their arms as they ran down the other side of the overpass. Girls full of hopeful dreams of moving on. Girls too caught up in the small things to mind too much about the big things. Yet always wanting the big things. Not the small-mindedness of the neighbourhood they'd grown up in.
The laughter of a group of children approaching brought her back to the moment. She realised her mind had wandered. Waiting for the train, she'd let her mind slip back into the past, not for the first time, and no doubt not for the last.
She caught sight of her reflection in the convex mirror at the end of the overpass, in front of the 'tin tabernacle'. Once again the sight was a little unnerving. She was still becoming accustomed to the change of tone in her hair as she'd let the last of the dye grow out. As her hair colour faded from red to brown then to a light silver, she found herself fascinated by its new colour when she caught sight of it in mirrors. She knew it was her reflected in the mirrored surface, but it seemed like someone else altogether.
Her mind brought back into the moment by her reflection, her ear caught the sound of the bells at the level crossing announcing the arrival of the train from the city. She straightened her sweater; ran a hand through her hair to smooth it. She walked along the overpass. She was still not tall enough to see the train over the barrier as it pulled in. Nevertheless, she raised herself onto tiptoes in the attempt before walking along the overpass to wait for passengers to alight at the end of their journey from the city.
portobello road
now playing: r.e.m. - what if we give it away?
wood green
now playing: space - neighbourhood
trafalgar square
now playing: sinéad o'connor - troy
the salisbury
now playing: sinéad o'connor - someone to watch over me
covent garden
now playing: elliott smith - punch and judy
the ship tavern
now playing: nick cave and the bad seeds - the ship song
lloyd's of london, the gherkin, and holborn
now playing: INXS - old world new world
ealing
now playing: nina simone - brown eyed handsome man
ealing studios
now playing: polly scattergood - bunny club