Back in late December 2014, my husband took me to New York for the occasion of my 40th birthday. We had a really wonderful time and I’ve recently rediscovered a whole bunch of photographs from that trip, so you can expect a few more over the coming weeks and months. I really liked this image for its cinematic quality, though we didn’t eat at Fanelli’s Cafe that day, and I rather wish we had.
A blast of improbable pink against an improbably blue Spring sky from back in 2013.
Some impressionist photographic play seeking to capture the Spring froth of our garden back in 2014, when the border was floating with fox gloves, alliums, thalictrums and tellima spires.
I can’t tell you exactly when this photograph was taken – a close-up of one of the hundreds of flowers comprising the impressive orange tower of a fox-tail lily – but I can tell you where it was taken: a flower border in the front garden of a rural post office in Lincolnshire. It was taken on an old 35mm camera, and the negative scanned digitally a few years later.
Impressionistic stuff from a wet, cold February evening at Potsdammer Platz, Berlin, back in 2008, making the most of all the neon and the glossy pavements.
A few of the ‘earlies’ from my all-nighter in the old dark house, back in the summer of 2017, when I was first learning how to raise spectres from the those tired, tiled floors.
When you’re scrambling about in an old dark house trying to produce phantasmagorical effects on film using various Heath Robinson-style contraptions comprising light-sources and black elastic, not everything goes according to plan. My various hard drives are somewhat littered with ‘failures to launch’ – underwhelming photographs featuring unmagical moments. Some of these ‘off-cuts’ are not without interest and I return to them from time-to-time to see if the passing of time and a fresh pair of eyes can see what was missed the first time around. Usually, the answer is no, but occasionally I’m minded to dig one out, like today’s offering – a wheeling circle of light flashing into life for a short show of seconds in one of the large abandoned rooms of No. 351.
You know how it is: you’ve got this pair of perfect shoes you’ve already worn to death and are fraying into oblivion, and yet you nonetheless find a way to keep wearing them. They’re not smelling great either (which is probably why this particular pair were photographed outside!).
A particular view from a particular spot in a particular place: a line of poplar trees, bringing with it a rush of other sensorial associations; a breeze as dry and heated as from a baker’s oven, the gentle chuck-chucking of soporific chickens, and the prickle of skin that’s likely seen too much sun for one day.
Another ominous manifestation of light and energy arrives without warning in the old house in the dead of night…