Iraq

I would under normal circumstances never pose for pics of myself holding a gun - it's a bit like telling everyone at the Embassy dinner your favourite musician is Kevin Bloody Wilson. But you can't work in Iraq and not do it - after all, when you go to Prague you will take a pic of yourself on Charles bridge...

There is another sadder side to the pic - this is a war zone. And you never know when you need to use one. So for the first time in 25 years, some practice was in order.

Me on the left.

Abandoned

 

Taken in a little village called Carsington in the Peak district. The countryside is beautiful. But I am sure living there is as depressing as hell. Tiny houses, small bedrooms, smaller windows, kak weather. Nah - I'll give it a miss I think

The man is right...

Prague

I’ve lived in the bush for most of my life, lived comfortably in a tent under a tree with no one within 500km of me. Yet I have an affinity for cities. Maybe because it is a place I can observe people (don’t give me that look, we’re all voyeurs). Cape Town I love because it’s home, I love New York for the hustle and the rudeness, and Vancouver is stunning nestled as it is at the foot of the Rockies..

Prague I find difficult to describe. It’s not perfect, it’s old and worn and poor, but it has something that I’ve not experienced elsewhere. Prague has style. It’s a bit like comparing an Italian pasta or French cuisine with the British, who just boil everything they eat.

Prague is a mistress, all high heels and sexy skirts and timeless elegance. Not the girl you take home to meet your mother, but the one everyone else envies.

I dwelt in a city enchanted,
And lonely indeed was my lot
. . . .
Though the latitude's rather uncertain,
And the longitude also is vague,
The persons I pity who know not the City
The beautiful City of Prague.
- William Jeffery Prowse, The City of Prague

Hajar mountains

Apologies to all my friends - I haven't been on here for ages. But sometimes I don't have much to write about. I've been writing,sporadically, trying to remember things that happened during my days in the army. It's posted elsewhere - at some stage I might import it here. But nuff said. I went to the shops to buy bread the other evening - ended up driving around the foothills of these mountains just behind us for almost two hours, taking photographs.

Leonard Cohen syndrome

I don’t suffer from depression, but sometimes I look at things from the dark side. And everything makes more sense. Feeling sorry for yourself is counterproductive, but fuckit, I deserved it. Tired of working too long and too hard, tired of looking after everyone else, tired of solving everyone else’s problems. So last night I felt fucking miserable. Feel much better today.

Desert trip

 

I may have mentioned in one of my previous blogs, I collect deserts. I love the space and the harshness and the beauty of it all. Spent an afternoon working our way over dunes - this is where we ended up.

We just don't listen

So what have we learned in two millennia?

"The budget should be balanced, the Treasury should be refilled, public debt should be reduced, the arrogance of officialdom should be tempered and controlled, and the assistance to foreign lands should be curtailed lest Rome become bankrupt. People must again learn to work, instead of living on public assistance."

---- Cicero - 55 BC


...Evidently nothing, then.

11 November - Remembrance Day

This day is a special one. It is starting to lose its significance, which is sad. I still use it as my day of remembering my friends and brothers in arms from long ago and far away. They're still young. And I'm getting old...

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Nepal

I've just come back from Nepal. It's typical of 3rd world countries - poor and grubby and overcrowded and corrupt. Yet if you look carefully, the culture and the scenery and the people shine through. A very colourful, beautiful place. Worth a visit. Took this pic at the temple where they cremate the bodies before they toss the remains into the river.

Kathmandu

When it's above 50 degrees every day, and you work outside, it saps your energy. I get home, lie on the bed, and fall asleep. Its just too hot to be outside - even the pool water is 36 degrees, so it doesn't cool you down at all. Thursday was a public holiday here, so a group of us decided to be pro-active, and we went and played some golf. Not a very good idea. It was 47 degrees on the course. I think I drank about 5 litres of water. The only thing that saved us was this little golf cart that came around every 15 minutes, dishing out frozen face towels.

I originally planned to brave out the summer (the official government says its only 4 degrees warmer than the historical average), but I'm taking a week off and going to Kathmandu. Its colder, its green, its the middle of the monsoon and pissing with rain - everything the desert isn't. Oh, and they have strange people I can look at. Gurus, and clever people, and others that hang rocks on their dicks. It might just be an interesting experience....

....

Now the question on the table...
...is how drunk is drunk enough?
And the answer is, it's all a matter of brain cells.
Brain cells?
That's right. Every drink of liquor you take kills brain cells.
But that don't matter, we got billions more.
First the sadness cells die, so you smile real big.
Then the quiet cells go, so you talk real loud for no reason at all.
That's okay, because the stupid cells go next...
...so everything you say is real smart.
And finally...
...come the memory cells.
These are tough sons of bitches to kill.

Sepia rules

I haven't taken photos for a while. The shamal or northerly winds blow at the start of summer, and this year they've been exceptional in their duration. The winds bring dust and heat and humidity. Everything changes to sepia. This pic has not been retouched except for a slight sharpening. It was taken in front of my office.

American girl in Italy, 1951

I love street photography. This is one of my all time favourites. Ruth Orkin (1921 – 1985) was renowned for her candid photos of Europeans and New Yorkers, and for the views she documented from her Central Park West apartment window for 30 years.

This is the life

Heard this on the radio this morning..

Sunset skyline

I know its cheesy, but its such an imposing part of my town's skyline, you can't ignore it. I keep coming back to take more photos of it.

Monster

Art..

Tim Noble and Sue Webster are artists. These are self portraits. They used piles of general household rubbish onto which a light is projected. I think this is absolutely stunning. The older I get the more I appreciate out of the box thinking.

Street photography

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