The photographs act like wormholes into the time they were taken, and are often the instigators of the stories that I tell within this digest; but more than that, amidst bouts of punishing low self-esteem, they remind me that I’m not an imposter, that I’m worthy of the places I photograph.
This isn't a list of the mechanics of photography - but touches more upon the process, the use of light and my experiences with the camera. I've found that it's the experience that counts - and there's over 30 years of experience diluted into these posts.
Whilst I walk along High Street, the buildings are tinted with a golden hue. As the sky softens, I can sense the day turning in on itself, the light tempered, beaten and bossed into thinness. This golden hour is turning blue.
Stopping and taking time to observe is an act of faith in the material truth that surrounds us. It washes away the fake news, discomfort and confusion of present times and helps me feel rooted.
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.
MEMBERS ONLY I recently photographed the chapel of ease at Thornton-le-Beans in Yorkshire for the Friends of Friendless Churches. I thought I'd share my process with you so here's a quick video from my day....
And what is my best bag for photography after 20 years experience?
The sort of stuff I get up to...
This is a place of transition - between the land and the sea, between heaven and earth and between time and tide.
I decide to chance it. There’s an inch of snow. I take the tripod off the side shelf of the van and fix my camera to it. I open the side door and lose my footing as I step out of the van.