This Industrial Heartland

The ties that bind the population to the nearby land can seem inhuman: mechanical structures that stretch across the landscape, not embracing the natural features in any meaningful way but instead perching delicately on top. The foundations, tunnels, tubes and pipes are violently forced and rendered into and through the land, yet here is where the beating economic heart sits.

Only, we have learnt from the lessons of the past few centuries and slowly our gaze is turning into how we can instead ally industry with nature, working with it instead of against it. Is it too late? Only time will provide us with that answer. . .

Taken using a Pentax ME Super 55mm camera with Lomography Lady Grey 400 (Fomopan) film and developed by hand and then scanned into a computer. If reused please credit the author.

Taken using a Pentax ME Super 55mm camera with Lomography Lady Grey 400 (Fomopan) film and developed by hand and then scanned into a computer. If reused please credit the author.

Taken using a Pentax ME Super 55mm camera with Lomography Lady Grey 400 (Fomopan) film and developed by hand and then scanned into a computer. If reused please credit the author.

The Spider

I remember as if it were yesterday, the thick legs creeping slowly around the side of the cobwebbed decorated bag with all the inevitability of death itself.  I howled, even as I jerked the bag onto the surface of the bed and I could see for the first time that this large spider was aged, weary of life.

It had none of the vitality of its younger form; it didn’t embody the free spirit of jazz scuttling here and there, enticed by the possibility of finding a mate.  It was stately, as if to query who would dare to wake it from its slumber in the bag I had so little used and within which it had made its final home.

I crushed it quickly and fully, the circular body being beaten flat with the legs retracting close to its lifeless form.  I covered the body with a cup, afraid to see the results of my own actions.

In my dreams it haunts me still.

Surburbia Kills

I was the first born.  Before the the mountains had rose from the sea, before the clouds hung in the sky, I came first.  My brother was the tree, who provided me with its fruit.  Animal was my brother too, feared and respected, watched and observed.

The second born saw what I, the first born, had and craved it for himself.  The mountain rose with his anger, as did the clouds.  The water started to foam and has not stopped since.

No longer do we treat my first born brothers with the respect that we once gave one another.  Now we herd them, both for their meat and for their fruit, until we have destroyed utterly the life that we had always lived.

I used to hold the sacred mud in my hand, and I could feel the fertility in its wet embrace.  Now I weep as the mud has become sodden with black earth blood, leeching the ground and contaminating the green grasses and wild animals.

We herd the land now too, parceling it off into smaller divisions that breed anger and jealously, war and hate.  No longer do we eat facing each other, we eat alone.

Our music, once shared, has now become a singular pursuit in the contours of our identity.

I weep for myself.  I weep for suburbia.

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Photography by the author, if reproduced please credit as appropriate.

The Ocean

The rock of the land meets the cold waters of the ocean.  Grass sits silent on top of the coastline, drinking in the golden sunlight.  The cliffs in the background are out of focus, the sharpness of the waves breaking on the jagged rocks has been lost.  Clarity has been forsaken for impressionism.  Broad brushstrokes paint the solid bedrock of the picture, where it is the little details that matter and not the great hulking monolith that the scene captures.  The foreground mimics the background.  There is no meaning imbued in the photograph, no central image to focus the eye, nor no human actor to engage the viewer.  There is nothing but the silence and the stillness of the scene, of the grass that will never grow taller, of the sand that will never be blown away by invisible winds.

This is a landscape in miniature, where a thousand footprints have already been left and a thousand more wait to be made.

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If reproduced, please credit the author of this blog as the photographer.

Captured Once, Captured Twice

Once again I’ve recently been putting some of the photographs I’ve taken with my old Pentax S1a film camera into frames, and I think a few of them work rather well.  This is one of my friends, caught we as we were out taking photographs one day around town.  I have to say that, even though I used cheap colour film, I love the way that this photograph has turned out.  There is something in the crispness and texture of film photographs that I just cannot seem to see or feel in examples of digital photography.  Of course the flip side of this is the fact that I used a cheap digital camera to take a picture of the photograph in the frame to enable me to post it here!

The Pentax S1a was made in the early 1960’s and still works like a dream, no batteries needed.  The digital camera?  Broke tonight after only a few years use.  Typical right?

A photograph of my friend taking a photography.  I think with this frame, a nice deep black frame, it really helps to bring the little scene out of it self, as fixed on a wall or a shelf the thick frame gives it a nice depth.  Taken with my Pentax S1a on colour film, if used elsewhere please credit.

A photograph of my friend taking a photography.  I think that with this frame, a deep black frame, it really helps to bring the little scene out of it self, as fixed on a wall or a shelf the thick frame gives the photograph a nice depth.  Taken with my Pentax S1a on colour film, if used elsewhere please credit.

Here is another quick photograph of the sea, how I love the sea.  Again I have put it into a cheap frame but I think the white/cream highlights the colours within the photograph itself.  Also this one has turned out much better than expected.  I expected it to be slightly scuzzy and not really crisp or clear at all, but it has pleasantly surprised me.

Here you go:

How my heart longs to be near the sea, within the sea and deep under the sea.  The fresh salty air is a balm to the roughest of days and always ensures a good nights sleep.  You know that the sea will break you down until you cannot be broken any more, it will not lie to you or try to comfort you.  it is nature at her harshest, at her most beautiful.  Taken by me with a S1a Pentax camera with colour film, if used elsewhere please credit.

How my heart longs to be near the sea, within the sea and deep under the sea.  The fresh salty air is a balm to the roughest of days and always ensures a good nights sleep.  You know that the sea will break you down until you cannot be broken any more, it will not lie to you or try to comfort you.  It is nature at her harshest, at her most beautiful. Taken by me with a S1a Pentax camera with colour film, if used elsewhere please credit.

I’ve also got a few more photographs in frames but as I said the camera has broken so I unfortunately cannot upload them here at the moment.  I also think it is worth putting your own photographs in frames as it is a nice personal touch and evokes happy memories, and it makes you remember that being creative and spontaneous can lead to some lovely pieces of home art.