Never one to miss a moment of symbolism this is one I took last year of a man pissing in the English channel. I’d forgotten all about till last night when I found it in my ‘almost but not quite’ box of prints while looking for something else. It’s a bit like finding old family photos in the attic. I think it will make a very nice addition to the ‘Postcard from Brighton’ set, I may send one to Nigel Farage who’s apparently too frightened to leave his house.
The ‘missus’ is away so it’s a darkroom, pizza. and football night. Heaven.
This photograph was made a couple of weeks ago on a very misty day on Brighton golf course while out walking the pooch. Not the most exciting image I’ve ever made but as is the case for most black and white images simple is always the best, my daughter loves it, my wife instantly dismissed it, I personally am fond of a bit of mysterious gloom. Whether it will make the cut for ‘Postcards from the People’s Republic of Brighton’ remains to be seen but currently it’s sitting happily in the section dedicated to graveyards and cemeteries.
….a man with a loud hailer, and maybe he’s called Donald ? Arguments about the direction of world politics still rage in our household, I’m still clinging to my to my muddled leftish approach while my son has swapped to an anti Corbyn , anti gibberish tack, where I now find my self questioning my own Brighton bubble politics as I try to defend them. Needless to say meal times are a lively affair. As a consequence I’ve started reading Aldous Huxley’s ‘Brave New World’.
Like him or not one thing you cannot criticise Donald Trump for is pussy footing around (pussy handing maybe) as his first weeks in office can hardly be described as dull. “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread” seems a tailor made description of his approach to the new position he now occupies, the double trouble the liberal world faces is that he’s definitely no ‘angel’ and certainly no ‘fool’.
Here’s a little passage from ‘Alice through the Looking Glass’
“The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.”
“The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, “which is to be master—that’s all.” Alice was too much puzzled to say anything, so after a minute Humpty Dumpty began again. “They’ve a temper, some of them—particularly verbs, they’re the proudest—adjectives you can do anything with, but not verbs—however, I can manage the whole lot! Impenetrability! That’s what I say!”
Hmmm seems somehow appropriate for our twittering world.