- Messages
- 37
- Edit My Images
- No
Two years ago I packed my cameras into their respective bedding places, slid the bags into the bottom of the wardrobe and closed the door on them.
Yesterday I took one of the cameras out and went for a walk with it.
My wife often asked me if I miss taking pictures. My answer was always No. it still is.
Yet I spend a great deal of time revising the images and reflecting on the scenes I photographed and wondered what went through my mind at the time and what I think now when seeing what I had done. And most of all, what story does the image now conjure in my mind.
I have no urge to photograph as I did for so many years. I’m. Done with it. It’s seems as if I’ve finished what I set to find out and have moved on.
Two years ago I borrowed my great grand daughters pencil case and started drawing. Because my mobility is limited I don’t look for things to photograph. I just turn on the computer and browse through the images of the past years, as well as those of other people.
Maybe this is the new; the regeneration of the old.
There is nothing new to discover. Only to rediscover and reinvent what we already know.
I’d like to post some of my favourite images from the past 20 years or so. I’ve never bothered to transfer the pre digital images. They are lost to the decay of time and microbes.
Just tell me when to stop. I’m alone, bored and irritable for company. Not the sort that visits. Hell, no. Just the ones I can talk to from time to time and lock them away when I’m tired of them.
One of my very favourites. It reminds me of the wasteland we live in called Suburbia. The shopping trolley symbolises the commercial world of wanting and not needing, yet even the trolley is treated as a container to be thrown away. Our world might be losing its shine as the rusting metal and the crumbling concrete
Yesterday I took one of the cameras out and went for a walk with it.
My wife often asked me if I miss taking pictures. My answer was always No. it still is.
Yet I spend a great deal of time revising the images and reflecting on the scenes I photographed and wondered what went through my mind at the time and what I think now when seeing what I had done. And most of all, what story does the image now conjure in my mind.
I have no urge to photograph as I did for so many years. I’m. Done with it. It’s seems as if I’ve finished what I set to find out and have moved on.
Two years ago I borrowed my great grand daughters pencil case and started drawing. Because my mobility is limited I don’t look for things to photograph. I just turn on the computer and browse through the images of the past years, as well as those of other people.
Maybe this is the new; the regeneration of the old.
There is nothing new to discover. Only to rediscover and reinvent what we already know.
I’d like to post some of my favourite images from the past 20 years or so. I’ve never bothered to transfer the pre digital images. They are lost to the decay of time and microbes.
Just tell me when to stop. I’m alone, bored and irritable for company. Not the sort that visits. Hell, no. Just the ones I can talk to from time to time and lock them away when I’m tired of them.
One of my very favourites. It reminds me of the wasteland we live in called Suburbia. The shopping trolley symbolises the commercial world of wanting and not needing, yet even the trolley is treated as a container to be thrown away. Our world might be losing its shine as the rusting metal and the crumbling concrete