These dummies look miserable as all hell, but then again that gives a sense of authenticity to the scene. I like the way the light has caught the ‘woman’s’ smock; actually, as models these two were more co-operative than real husband-and-wife stevedores doubtless would have been in a comparable situation.
The tripod, the docked iPod, the discarded costumery; the wife must want one of her routines filming. Happy to oblige.
If you like football, and you have any kind of countercultural leanings, you gotta like FC St. Pauli of Hamburg. Either you know why or you don’t. This is one of the reasons I wanted to come to the city. Shame they lost today, mind.
Officially I’m still on sabbatical. So you didn’t see me. I wasn’t here today. Nor, really, is anybody else. This is of course the time of year we like the most.
Closing credits, Despicable Me 2. It’s interesting how the digital photography sort of makes the 3-D come out even if we didn’t see this at a 3-D enabled cinema. Is it a good movie? Well… not as good as the first movie. But better than Man of Steel.
There’s not a lot going on at the moment. It’s still sunny but I’m just sat at home writing, trying to finish my book. So I entertained myself in the evening by watching a film about a middle-aged male academic who is, er, trying to finish his book. I’d say life imitates art, but Michael Douglas’s character struggles with this task more than I am. And yes, that is my foot.
Well, it’s something to do on a nice sunny summer Sunday, isn’t it. Good results, too.
“So we turned up for work this evening, like, and there was this bleedin’ great pile of BRICKS on the board. Well, not my problem. No point asking me to shift it, is there, when I can only move forward one square at a time.”
One of the criteria for choosing which pictures get onto this blog is whether one encapsulates the day on which it was taken. That is not true of this photo. I had a busy day today, visited my parents and then had a Saturday night out with Clare, in Blackpool – and one could do an entire photo essay on the subject of ‘a Saturday night in Blackpool’ (though I think it might be a job more fitting for a war correspondent than a humble amateur like myself). There was great light today, a beautiful high summer’s day, and I took plenty of photos I was happy with.
Nevertheless, this wins. If the art of photography is not about capturing moments, those coincidences of place and time which raise any experience above the mundane and everyday, then I feel happy with what I’ve done here. This place could not be less exotic really, just a tunnel I pass through at least two or three times a week when I am here in town. But this morning I loved the way the light was spilling down the steps and giving it a warm feeling. This photo is exactly what I wanted it to be when I took it, and that happens only occasionally.
While citizens of the USA were presumably celebtrating their Independence Day today, I had a day spent mostly at home writing. These books caught my eye later on though, bathed in a small pool of afternoon sunlight. It would be nice to claim our Joe was a voracious reader but I think these are on their way to the car boot sale. Indeed it would probably embarrass him to reveal to the world there are still around 20 Thomas the Tank Engine books visible here. So I won’t point that out.
Being 42 