A photograph of mine features in the April edition of the The Simple Things magazine. The rose was planted by the lady who lived in my house before me. I think she’d have really enjoyed this article.
My next exhibition is the South London Women Artist show ‘I am woman, hear me roar’ in Peckham from 3rd to 6th of March. The show coincides with International Women’s Day and will take place at AMP gallery. The preview is 3rd March between 6pm-9pm.
I do a little post every year of my favourite images and have done since 2009. Just before the end of the year my hard drive failed. I’d backed up every project I’d been commissioned to do, every family photo I’d taken, and every roll that had been developed. What I left to upload on a rainy day was everything I creatively did for fun; my lumens, my favourites, my scans, my garden, my sketchbooks.
Not all is lost but for now it’s an empty feeling. An empty canvas. It nudges me 1) upload/back up more and 2) start again. Sigh.
Don’t do what I did. Don’t wait for that rainy day.
Christmas Day 2021
2 December ‘21 at Studio 71, Brixton London.
Presenting the brilliant in the unusual. Fast moving photographic art shows in London.
Come and view all of the work for #lofipostershow in one airy space.
My contribution is one big lofi grainy, light leaked mess.
Abbey Road, Studio 3
It’s been months since my post. I didn’t even mention the two exhibitions I contributed to before lockdown occurred. They’re a hazy memory now. They were Postcards from Great Britain at Hotel Lion d’Or, Haarlem, Netherlands and the International Winter Exhibition at The Glasgow Gallery of Photography. I had other plans too but, ah, nevermind those.
I started drafting this post at the beginning of May (it’s now almost mid-June). I don’t know what I was going to write about then. The subsequent days all merge into one. Fuzzy, sun and rain soaked, slow, repetitive days. With any spare moment I’ve been growing things with success (plant and seed swapping too) and fixing up gaping wounds that some lowlife scaffolder and builder left behind in the winter. Ever since the season popped into life, I’ve been reminded of what a much wiser woman told me recently; May always feels busy because nature goes wild.
I immersed myself in it when having to quarantine for a couple of weeks. I worked on lumens, cyanotypes and installed solargraphs all with a focus on the natural world. As soon as I could go on daily sanctioned walks I took my camera out and about, aimlessly looking for nothing. The deeper joy came in listening to birds and the silence. When it reopened I started walking around my local cemetery again, marvelling at the cow parsley overgrowth. The world has changed. Even on the darkest days, there is a hint of promise for what might happen.
Here’s a few pictures from the last 80 days.
