The prodigal bum

I know I know. But sometimes, the longer you leave something the worse it gets. I have had a rough day so I was inspired to remember all my problems are in fact, a crock of shit, and buck up. Here. Smack her chops about this, I'm not sure I've ever shown this to ye. It's me and Stephen's video being selected by iTunes as pick of the week a few months back when it was released. Yay!

CENSOR CENSOR CENSOR

Occtastical

Me and Stephen went to check out a fabulous house in North London with Melissa for a shoot later in the month. It was early, hence we had the grumps and clutched coffees like they were estonian life-vests. We realized pretty soon that these people actually LIVe in this house as well as rent it out for shoots, hiding their personal belongings away in little pokey cupboards and fold away chests. I dunno if I could do it, but rates of 1500 a day could go some way to persuade me I'm sure.

Later on I went to see Rupert Maliphant at the London Coliseum. I hate to say I slept through most. In fact the entire experience left me cold- I even skipped the usual post show drink with Amy and Stephen to mope home on the train still entrapped in bleary postshow haze. I'm all for contemporary dance but jesus christ- shouldn't some element of it be entertaining, or engrossing or even just accessible? This was repetitive and bored me to tears, the only shining light being the last piece in the first act, of which I saw little through the by then REM depth stupor I found myself under. Too little too late Mr Elephant.

Here is a little e-flyer I made for Robs final concert later this month. I would have kept going on it and figured out a way to make the text fit better but Robert is a mean lean self-promoting machine and demanded the final draft, and he was happy so that was that.

Alternative Miss Ireland 2009

Hmm, these images speak for themselves really. Adam and Dónal put on a freakin' AMAZING show this Sunday past at Irelands gay answer to Miss World, with a performance that included so many exciting gimmicks my heart could barely take the palpitations. Anyway- for all the efforts, and in spite of a STANDING ovation from the Olympia Theatre in Dublins Fair City, they didn't receive the accolade they deserved and the general consensus was- THEY WERE ROBBED!

More Pretty Things

Look at these! Blank CD's from www.athertonlin.com- David gave me a present of them to send some music to my big sister in Dublin. Pretty neat huh? They are made here in London and come in set and series- this is the 2nd! I don't know how much they are to be fair (Um, I neither think David actually KNOWS it's a present come to think of it) but it's still a nice idea. Okay so it ain't mind blowing but jesus christ- what do you want?

I watched a film called Masjävlar last night. It's about a woman who moved from rural Sweden into Stockholm escaping small-town rituals for big town ones (namely stopping the taxi home in Stureplan to vomit) and her tumultuous trip back up North for her Dads birthday. It's a really simple but beautifully told story and it really does something to me. I cried a solitary tear while Paula snored beside me, nonplussed in that special Scandinavian way. But I say if you get the chance, please watch it.

Look! Paint! on a page! This is a good sign I am inch by inch moving towards the holy grail of producing things rather then merely thinking about them.




Um... The content aint so great. I'll give you that.

Super and Not so Super Sunday

Yesterday was a day of highs and lows.

High:

I found THIS in the market for £5! The old dudes selling it said they didn't know if it worked, and then consequently confessed through laughter that they didn't even know what it was. As far as I can see it's missing a battery cover but otherwise in good nick, so I think I got a bargain either way. I was so chuffed I treated myself to breakfast at Ian's house.



Low:

I discovered I have officially no money left for March, and as distressing this would be for anyone, I'm suposed to be going home to Ireland on Saturday. Whoops. This calls for some serious life re-structuring.

Sarah the Sad Staircase

This is the staircase in Bethnal Green tube station to exit up on to the Roman Road, an image I took whilst out visiting the Swedes near Victoria Park. The two locations have a dark connection, that I'd imagine most casual visitors to the station, and the staircase, are probably blissfully unaware of.



"On the 3rd of March 1943, an air-raid Civil Defence siren sounded at 8:17 pm, causing an orderly flow of people down the short flight of steps at the Roman Rd entrance into the underground booking office area. At 8:27, an anti-aircraft battery a few hundred yards away in Victoria Park launched a salvo of a new type of anti-aircraft rocket. The weapon was secret, and the unexpected, unfamiliar, type of explosion caused a panic. As the crowd surged forward towards the shelter, a woman, possibly carrying a baby, tripped on the stairs, causing many others to fall. Within a few seconds 300 people were crushed into the tiny stairwell. 172 people were dead at the scene, with one more dying in hospital later; 62 of the dead were children"

Because of war-time censorship and the potential moral-destroying consequences of the incident, particularly in one of the worst bombed neighbourhoods in London, news of the disaster was quashed- a quietness that seems to have lasted into the 21st century. Only a tiny plaque commemorates the largest loss of civilian life in the UK during the second world war.

I always get a shiver when I walk up the steps.

Time Out!

Wee! One of my photos got into Time Out to promote White Wedding, which while not earth shattering news, worthy of note in these cruel times. OH! WINTER OF MY DISCONTENT!

Have a looksie....



The clubnight seems to be rolling along quite nicely- we got quite a bit of press this week, and last night I spied a host of undercover journalists whispering surreptitiously into mini-microphones while gripping Beckys wedding cake in the other hand. AND having been asked to play at a venue in France, I might actually get a trip abroad from role of official Wedding Photographer!!



I dragged myself out of bed Sunday morning and went to meet the lovely Matt for breakfast, poached eggs and cappuccino, nice! I always get such a wonderful feeling the morning after a hard nights work... you've earnt a little money, and are briefly excused from responsibility and guilt (i'm quite the catholic in this regard I'm starting to believe)

This wonderful feeling didnt last however, as I had to run home and work- me and Ste poured our hearts and souls into two treatments due at nine this morning...queue maniacal laughter/tears at 5.30 this morning as we were still hours from finishing.

It's such a funny thing when you work through a night unwillingly- first comes defiance, then anger, then denial, and finally acceptance. And once you accept it, even as horribly unnatural as it might first appear to feel, it's actually quite nice. Like an altered state of being. Dizzy and delirious, it can be strangely enjoyable. Also who would have thought that Last Fm would make me appreciate Cher so much? Heres a screen grab of the MPHO pitch- " A Warholian Pop-Art tour-de-force with a classic British twist..."



I can't face more rejection! It's too hard!

WHy the Blog?

I have blog paralysis. It's a strange ailement that only takes hold as my fingers swish over a keyboard and the 'publish' button sears out at me.

Stephen and Amy helpfully came up with the synopsis of my neurosis when they casually quipped I was overconcerned with Why? when it comes to my own life and the things I do. Whying aint Doing. Was the gist. I should simply DO more and not always attempt to successfully dissect the driving force behind it and compartmentalise it into little tiny Simon boxes. But I can't help it! I want to REALISE my life. You gotta ask questions! It's not my fault if I'm not good at answering them, I get a hell of alot further then most people.

So..Do I want this to be a list of things I like, a journal of my life, strange and quirky jumblings of things I thought, or all about photowork and video work to try and drum up some more? A bit off it all? Is that interesting? Am I writing it for myself or for other people to read? How would that make a difference to what I wrote?

Meh...maybe they are right. I exhaust myself.

The Bunny & the Sloth