I try not to put too many football pictures up here but I do like this one, simply because of her face, and the general contrast with the rest of the scene. And it does epitomise the day, with me not having arrived in the city until noon, local time. Either way, the match (Cape Town City v Orlando Pirates) and the general experience were very fine: a great introduction to the country.
Another movie reference, courtesy of the exhibition currently running at the Design Museum in London, featuring a range of drawings, models, photos and other artefacts that have poured out of the head of director Tim Burton over the last 50 years or so. Two things are apparent; 1) the guy can have done very little in his life other than pour out this endless stream of creative work, more or less constantly; 2) there is some seriously weird shit going on inside that head. Worth seeing though.
An early post today as I now sit at Heathrow Airport waiting for an overnight flight. Unless something goes seriously wrong, the next three weeks of posts will all be coming from places a damn sight warmer than this one.
I don’t entirely do the Cult of Celebrity but tonight I’m making an exception. I think most of the audience of The Tempest — with Sigourney Weaver as Prospero — stuck to the rules and did not spend the whole performance taking pictures (and she was on stage throughout every minute): but no one said anything about the curtain call. It’s not often one gets to see a movie legend in the flesh.
You thought you were leaving Hebden Bridge today? Naaah. Ain’t gonna happen, not at 9.45am, not at any other point either (though there were unsubstantiated rumours that the 13:48 may have run, probably to get some people home — that was it, though). Just as well I gave myself three days to get to Heathrow, huh. Let’s try again tomorrow.
St Luke’s, Liverpool, was your basic, big urban church until the night of May 6th 1941, when the Luftwaffe decided to do some remodelling. It has been left like this ever since, as a memorial to all those who died in WW2.
How’s my symmetry on this shot? Hmmmm…. it’ll do. Apart from the barrier on the right-hand side, anyway. These kinds of thing always seem to be there to vex us. The other visitor, I’ll let him off.
This was never going to be the busiest or most retail-friendly Friday market day of the year, but even so, it was particularly absent of life today. Anyone who wants to pick up a yellow and blue plastic crane, though — here it is. Or was.
Clear skies are not always a feature of the time of year, so let’s take the chance to photograph this impending conjunction tonight, although surely the Moon is going to move even closer (apparently, anyway) to Venus before the weekend. A fleeting contrail decides to butt its oar in, too.
As a location, the Lake District has featured 171 times on this blog, so about once every 28.5 days, or roughly every four weeks. But in 2024 the place appeared only three times, the lowest yearly total by some distance. Finishing the commitment to hoik myself twice around the Wainwrights has made an obvious difference. This shot is taken from no nearer than Morecambe, with a very long zoom. Will I be back more in ’25? In all honesty — probably not.
There was a New Year’s Eve party tonight but none of the pictures taken there really worked, and so let’s end 2024 on what might be an overly morbid note. But I do like the row of old stone-cut graves that sit above Morecambe Bay near St Patrick’s church, Heysham. And the designer of the cover of The Best of Black Sabbath must have liked them too. That photo is better than mine (I’m not even close to getting the horizon straight, and don’t care), but my excuse is that I was stood above them in the most revolting wind and rain; 2024, at least in the UK, really didn’t bow out with great weather.
2024’s penultimate picture might be better focused, but what the hell, I think it gives it something of an enigmatic feel. And perhaps I wanted to take a picture of the scaffolding. What’s she doing? Who knows, but let’s hope that if it involved getting a train somewhere, she has patience.
Being 42 