📝 Field Notes from my Camper-van-camino: Avebury, Wiltshire
In times when a fact is not a fact and a photograph is not a photograph, I find a need to blur out what others are telling me and connect with the reality of the present moment.
In times when a fact is not a fact and a photograph is not a photograph, I find a need to blur out what others are telling me and connect with the reality of the present moment.
Across a building extruded from the Triassic and Jurassic this isn't just a parable of faith, but also the story of the cosmos itself and our part in it.
Each week I send out a short, fresh reflection from the road – photographs, sketches, and observations from old places that still have something to teach us. What follows is a moment from those travels. Northumbrian Light The forecast was good and so the shoot was on. I arrived at the...
I stand and wait and watch and, as the air is captured within the beams of sunlight, I start to see faces forming and dissipating in the haze.
J.B Priestley equated the time continuum to an omelette. Add Inglesham to the mix and time is a soufflé. Inglesham is like an odd bend in the road of time.
After spending prolonged days wrestling with the light through my viewfinder, I’ve experienced a kind of photo-serotonin effect, as if a transfusion has taken place resulting in an inner glow, unable to stop chattering; a feeling of being baptised with the splendour of it.
And having spent so much time absorbed in the optics of photography, it was on my journey to Carlisle, in my encounter with the window there, that I realised how singular this medium is to our isles...
My journey capturing photographs for the book Divine Light: The Stained Glass of England's Cathedrals.
I gave myself permission to stop and enjoy it, and to take time to photograph it, inspite of the curious glances from passers by.
✨ Wondering why I ask for support?
An Anxiety of Memberships