Friday, May 28, 2010


 Mary Robinson is only 16 years old, from Atlanta, Georgia. With an amazing knack for capturing light, shade and atmosphere, she posts up every roll she develops. 
There is an amazing and large archive of photos on her blog, all of which are a delight.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Becoming my own worst enemy

Hi! Hw r u? Hw r thngs? Do you fancy going 4 lunch?!! It has been soooooo long since we caught up. Let me know k! xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Recently I sent this text. Then I recoiled in horror. What had I become? or as I was more likely to say 'WTF hd I become lol?' Unwittingly I had slowly turned into a user of text speak, losing my pride and dignity along the way. Somehow I was a bonified enthusiast of exclamation marks and even worse the 'xoxoxox' or 'xxxxx'. My text message seemed so fluffy and pink and teenage. What next? WRitInG liKe dIs? After the horrifiying epiphany I trawled my inbox. I had electronically exclaimed, kissed and LOL'ed in the sluttiest of manners. All of my friends were recieving the same treatment. An electronic onslaught of over emotional 'luff'. How embarrassing.

I am now slowly trying to wean myself away from exclamation marks, misspelt words and accronyms. My abuse of the English language has gone on for too long. Instead of thinking 'Omg, lol that is sooo funny!' I will breathe deeply and think about what I write. The hand still hovers over the shift key, an automatic response after years of guilty electronic enthusiam. I now ask myself  'Am I truly excited about the sentence I about to write? Does this deserve an exclamation mark?'

Usually, the answer is no.

To my friends. I am deeply deeply sorry.


"I need the city; I need to know there are people around me strolling, arguing, f**king—living, and yet I go out very rarely; I stay here in my cage. I should have been, I don’t know, a con-man, a robber or a prostitute. But it was vanity that made me choose painting, vanity and chance."

Oooh I love Francis Bacon, but he gives me the willies all the same. Kind of in the same way Hannibal Lector does from Silence of the Lambs.  He was a rather interesting man who had a love for disfigurement, isolation and distorted and tortured images. Originally an interior designer he slipped into painting in later life. His following steadily grew, while the critics remained divided. Even Margaret Thatcher had an opinion referring to him as "that man who paints those dreadful pictures."

Despite his fame Bacon felt like it was all a bit hopeless. He described life as 'ridiculous'. "Even as a child, I knew [life] was impossible, a kind of charade."

A close friend Michael Peppiatt  remarked Bacon could "light up the day with his wit and generosity; he could equally well plunge it into gloom; and part of the excitement of being with him lay in not knowing for long which way it would go. It was fascinating to watch such sudden changes and contradictions within one person...Bacon could not be pinned down. The closer you got to him, the more likely he was to turn nasty or simply disappear -- to go through a wall into a life where you could not follow"

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Summer gold


Welfe from Neon Sleep has a knack for golden half camera goodness. Above are some of his snaps from the summer. Plenty of sun, pools, bicycles, barbeques, beaches and interesting characters.
Photo envy!

Red room, red room

I had my wisdoms out this morning and the pain relief is making me feel a bit dotty. I figure, when in this mood there is only thing I want to watch. Twin Peaks, the most odd ball, brilliant and slightly disturbing television series ever made. Like a fantastical nightmare Twin Peaks has it all: murder, mystery, music, humour and dazzling fashion.  
Above is a picture of my friend Chris who dressed up as the log woman for Halloween last year. Rather impressive, yes?

Monday, May 24, 2010

Murky Monday

Emma Hardy's pictures are a welcome escape from a murky Monday where it is a little bit cold, grey and meh. To me, they are celebration of life in all aspects. Family, solitude, childhood, art, friends and unexpected moments.

In the weekend I went back to my hometown of Feilding and visited my Grandma. She is tiny and frail from age and bone cancer. Taking morphine daily, her mind is fuddled as she speaks quietly, sighs and looks vaguely out into the distance. I miss her headstrong forthright former personality which at the time I took for granted. The inevitably of old age makes me sad and sometimes I get a bit frightened when I realise how quickly the days pass.

 This said, some of us are not lucky enough to live so long. Among the unfortunate and unexpected was the sheep we hit on a long country straight during the weeked. It died instantly, a loud 'thunk' against the front of the car. Upon stopping we were met with a gory and sad sight on the side of the road, a very dead sheep. My father, a farmer, was emotionally immune and far more concerned about the state of his car. I stood on the side of road lamenting the ill fate of the dotty sheep who couldn't make it across the road on time. Now I can't get the bleating bundle of fluff out of my head. Travellers remorse!

Shameless self promotion

The film I did for 48 hour film fest as a part of The Mammal Group. Enjoy! x

Sunday, May 23, 2010

The 'knuckle-down-cull-stuff-clean-apartment-pack-my-bags' Mix Tape

I move to London in a mere three sleeps! therefore today is my knuckle-down-cull-stuff-clean-apartment-pack-my-bags day and this is my knuckle-down-cull-stuff-clean-apartment-pack-my-bags mix tape, unashamedly smashing some of my favourite bands repetitively.

Passion Pit/Foals/Minus The Bear/Friendly Fires/Two Door Cinema Club

'read more' for the list and the awesome videos