Mantelpieces


Does a mantelpiece reveal the personality of it's owner, or is it merely a shelf to put stuff? Either way I noticed a few standout displays in the last year which I've snapped on my now deceased Blackberry mobile phone camera. If you like miscellaneous objects then you may enjoy this mini series, the George W. Bush babushka doll next to a set of nipple tassels are my highlights.  

Kiss me quick

Dingle, Ireland 2012

At the end of last year I traveled with a group of friends to West Ireland. We bombed up the coast in a 4x4 and stayed in an Edward Scissorhands esque suburban complex, a stones throw from Dingle. When entering a bar in this pocket rocket of a bay side town you feel like an explorer discovering a distant land unaffected by modernisation. These pubs operate with a jack of all trade philosophy which means you can buy pair of boots or a hammer with your pint. This idiosyncratic and charming town really comes into it's own on New Years Eve where it hosts half of Ireland as well as a few adventurous worldwide travelers. They all come, like we did, to see a marching band weave it's way past the drunken marauds crowds who pile out in the street for the ten minutes that link the end of one year and the start of another. I missed the band, and I will miss Ireland and it's brooding skies that release rain with a sense of purpose.

 

Clacton Gazette


The Clacton Gazette published an article last week about At The Water's Edge which is good because it should encourage more locals to see the exhibition. For those not reading the Clacton Gazette, it's on until the very end of April so go and see it. They included an image from the opening night with Cherie standing by a picture of Cherie. It's a sort of double portrait.

Clacton-On-Sea, 2012


The evening before the opening of 'At The Water's Edge' (see previous blog post) I stayed the night in Clacton, Jaywick's posher neighbouring town. Late that evening there was an incredibly thick fog that swept over the town. I walked down to the pier and this is what I saw. There was no one to be seen. The only sign of life was the sound of a few youths under the pier.

At The Water's Edge



I'm putting on an exhibition of photographic portraits this week on the Essex coast. The images document the people that have moved to Jaywick in search of a better life. The town was once a slice of paradise for east Londoners looking to escape the city in the summer, now it is officially England’s most deprived community. There's a lot more to Jaywick than these statistics suggest.

Here's a message from Kevin to tell you more...

Christmas in London, 2011

Valladolid, Spain 2010



At the end of last year my flight back to England from Spain was cancelled so I was put up overnight in the medieval town of Valladolid. I went out to take photographs of the Spanish drinking at night until a policeman ripped the camera from my hands. I was at fault because I was taking pictures of the commotion following a Spanish youth who had smashed his head on a paving stone. He went through and deleted all the pictures featuring policeman before pretending to drop the camera. It made me have a rare pang of warmth and appreciate for the English constabulary. It seems the ghost of Franco still looms in the air.








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