Yay! Fleeting validation!

Rather splendidly, this photograph has been picked from Flickr for an online guide to Brighton. This fills me with a little bit more joy than it should, I think. I fear that I have a longing for formal legitimacy that can only be satisfied when someone with the word editor in their job title approves of my work. This is clearly all wrong on several different levels but there seems to be nothing I can do about it. My default position for any creative endeavour is that everything I do is rubbish, with the occasional glimpse of something better peeking out to keep me going. I'm happy to hear criticism or praise but whichever is forthcoming I know the truth see? The only exception is when someone whose job it is to select work for some form of publication says they'd like to use something I've done. At that point I generally bask in my own brilliance for ten minutes before starting to bemoan the fact that I'll never be able to scale those heights again, that the piece they chose was a fluke of some sort, and that I'd be happier all round if I just gave up completely and found a less demanding way to pass the time. The human psyche truly is an odd fish.

One for NigeyB

Today's photo is in honour of this blog's very first follower, NigeyB, who has started something similar, where he published a photo he took of Mick Jones, the venerable old rocker (did I ever tell you my Topper Headon story by the way? Remind me to one day - although to be honest it's not that interesting).

When I saw NigeyB's photo (check out his others BTW, I think some of them are awesome) I realised that not only does he live in the same town as me, share similar interests, use the same camera, support the same football team, is about my age, and like me is married with two kids, but he even has the same bloody computer! I'm beginning to think there's something fishy going on...

Flying giant spider attacks house!

Some days all that needs to be done to grab a half-decent photo is to swivel the office chair 90 degrees to the right and look out of the window. This is just as well, frankly, because work is often so frantic these days that there's just no time available to go ambling forth, camera in hand. This little chap was ambling up my window the other night and obligingly stopped to pose for a good five minutes before resuming his journey.

Hand in hand on the Downs

Today I took the kids to Ditchling Beacon, from where we strolled a mile or so east, as far as a pond that's so circular it's kind of scary. We were accompanied by Simon and three year-old Matilda, who bore up pretty well until ten minutes from the end of the walk, when she decided she'd had enough. Ah, the joys of parenthood...even other people's parenthood.

It's easy to take for granted the extraordinary view there is from the Beacon - I cycle past it regularly during the summer months and rarely pause to take it in properly, but when you're with small kids the pace is irresistibly slow, which is often deeply frustrating, but when you have such breath-taking scenery to take in it seems churlish to complain about anything.

Eventually we made it back to the car, which we then drove to the Jack & Jill pub in Clayton for beer and peanuts. Simple pleasures...

Marni on the rocks

Marni and I had some good father/daughter time today. It probably doesn't happen as often as it should but we always enjoy it when it does. Oskar was playing football at Hove Rec and we were getting cold watching him so we cycled off to Hove Park, which is about 590 metres away, according to a sign I remember seeing today. When we got there we did our usual thing of cycling around the edge of the park, then swooping down a grassy hill at speeds that probably feel like they're on the very edge of what's possible to her (says the fearless downhiller...). Then we decided to clamber onto the climbing rock for a bit. I took some pictures of her climbing - including this one - then decided I should be participating, not recording, so I put the camera away and climbed up after her. I suppose I would say this wouldn't I, but she's good! Really! She was picking her hand- and foot-holds and facing the rock all the time. She was basically fearless (which is what we've come to expect from her) but also careful. Suddenly I feel we may have a climber in our midst. How weird is that?

I'm tired and a bit drunk now so I'm not going to explore our relationship here and now. It would be a mistake I think. Suffice it to say we're in good shape at the moment, my daughter and me :)

Beach volleyball

It took me ages to choose this image. It's not the best one I took today - I think this one's better (if the seagull was in focus and I'd framed it a bit better it would be a no-brainer) - but this shot shows Brighton beach in such a summery light that I couldn't resist it. You'd think you were in Rio or Antibes or somewhere similar in the height of summer wouldn't you? Well you're not. It was relatively chilly when I took this shot - probably no more than 12 or 13 degrees - and there was a brisk south-easterly blowing sand into the players' faces. And they say us southerners are soft!

Am I a Leatherhead?

When I was at university I met a chap called Mike 'Jobey' Johnson, whose main claim to fame was that he'd played drums in a band, some of the members of which went on to play with The Housemartins. It was Mike who told me that Norman 'Fatboy Slim' Cook's real name is Quentin - a fact that tickles me to this day. The other thing that sticks in my mind about Mike, who came from Guildford, is he swore blind that the practice of sniffing the recently-vacated bicycle saddles of young ladies (and presumably old ones too, although I suspect their saddles are a little safer) is called Dorking. I wondered at the time if the practitioners of this dubious activity were called Leatherheads, but he wasn't sure.

The reason I raise this is that I seem to be offering a second image of a well-used Brooks bicycle saddle within a few days as my photograph of the day, and I'm wondering if this makes me some sort of dubious fetishist. I'll try to resist their photogenic charms from now on - although it won't be easy because dammit they're so easy on the eye!

Pepper pan

Bit of a schoolboy error today - having decided that I had no time (yet again!) to go out seeking interesting photos, I decided I'd take this shot of peppers frying. I liked the red on silver on black feel of it and figured I might get an interesting enough shot if I stood on a chair and used the flash well. What I didn't do was check the basic settings of the camera, so this one was taken at ISO1600, which is why it doesn't look as crisp and lovely as it might despite Lightroom's best efforts. I need to stick a big yellow post-it on my camera reminding me to check such things every time I use the camera. It's basic stuff!

And how would I be feeling now if this had been the shot - you know, the one we all dream of taking that confirms our wildest dreams and casts to one side forever all those niggling doubts about exactly what it is that we're capable of. How would it feel to be contemplating that very shot now, full to the brim with pride and a deep sense of creative fulfilment but unable to brush aside that niggling thought about how much more perfect it would have been if only I'd checked the ISO or the aperture or the shutter speed or the flash compensation?

Since you ask, supper was excellent, even if I say so myself: a comfort food blowout of heroic proportions from which I've still not quite recovered.

Old-school perch

I saw this magnificent saddle at lunchtime today on a handyman's bike leaning against a railing on Holland Road. It looks like his arse has been shaping it for years - I love the little paintspots.

As the proud owner of no fewer than four bicycle saddles, all of which are skinny and very light, I can't really relate to the Brooks springy armchair experience, although I imagine once you've gone through the pain of breaking one in you'd never want to change it - and you wouldn't have to very often because they last forever. But I can't help wondering why anyone's prepared to go through that slow, expensive and painful process when there are cheaper alternatives that are comfortable straight out of the box, don't go all soggy when it rains, and look just as nice on your bike if you ask me.

Actually, I think I do understand it - there's something appealing about the idea of a beautifully-crafted old fashioned perch that's been gently persuaded over weeks of painful use to mould itself to your backside. But that's where it stops for me - at the idea stage. They do look nice though don't they?

Sliding kids

No time for snapping today so I'm falling back on one of the weekend shots - I love the mixture of terror and delight on Oskar's face. As a kid I used to do exactly the same thing on exactly the same hill so it was a wonderfully poignant and nostalgic thing to watch, particularly as my dad was there watching them with me.

The garage roof files

My parents are contemplating moving from the house they've lived in since 1965. It's a big house and they brought up four kids there. Every room is stuffed with memories and junk in equal quantities and the prospect of separating the stuff to keep from the stuff to dump is an awful one. So we offered to help. This weekend we tackled a relatively easy job - clearing out hundreds or maybe even thousands of old medical files stored above the garage. It was easy in the sense that nothing needed to be kept, so there was none of the agonizing I expect there will be elsewhere in the house. But it wasn't particularly easy to actually retrieve the boxes of files and get rid of them. I think my back's going to let me get away with the hard work - I'd usually expect it to have started hurting by now if it was going to - but I did have my doubts a few times as I staggered backwards down the ladder carrying yet another box of files. There were about 20 boxes altogether, packed with detailed case notes from decades of patient care. They really were quite heavy.

Incidentally, in case you were wondering, there is no significance to the coat hanger on the washing line. I like to think it adds something enigmatic and a little surreal to the image, but that's probably just me making the best of a bad shot.

Contre-jour lineout

Another weekend, another parental visit. This time to Kent to see my mum & dad. Saturday lunch was spent with a hundred or so vice-presidents of the Dover Rugby Club before their last game of the season, against Maidstone. Dover are doing very well these days - I think I remember someone saying they've been promoted seven times out of the last nine seasons. The standard of play was remarkable - way above what I'd expect from a small provincial side. It was fast, physical and very skilful - I was very impressed. It was certainly too good for Maidstone, who were trounced by something like 33 to 3.

The lunch was pretty good too...

Easter backlog #4

I realise it's time to move on from Easter but today was one of those relentlessly awful work marathons that never seem to end, and that certainly don't offer up much in the way of photography opportunities. So it's another Chatsworth picture. I think this one could have been special if the light had been better, but I wonder how many images have that little caveat attached to them...

I noticed something yesterday when I was showing the Easter pictures to Madge: I wasn't really happy with any of them. I found myself slightly embarrassed about the general quality and I haven't quite worked out yet whether this means I'm getting more exacting and the pictures are as amateurish as ever, or I'm getting more exacting a little more quickly than my pictures are improving, or I'm just full of shit. Time may be the best judge of this one...

Last night I went to see David Byrne at the Brighton Dome. He was very good and rather photogenic, as you'd expect, but I didn't have my camera with me because they frown on lenses that look 'too professional'. More compelling evidence, as if it were needed, that I really would benefit from a decent point 'n' shoot: the Ricoh R10 for instance...

Easter backlog #3

There were a few camera-worthy moments at Chatsworth, but none more than this one. A valiant toddler decided to brave the weeping willow sculpture to check out a plastic duck - part of an Easter special treasure hunt type of thing. She was so gloriously indifferent to the water that she kept removing her hood, to the consternation of her parents but the amusement of everyone else's.

Easter backlog #2

As promised about three minutes ago when writing the previous post, here's a shot of our visit to Chatsworth. It doesn't quite do what I intended it to - I wanted the image to be a bit cleaner around both the house and the right side of the euphonium player, but it is what it is.

I really like Chatsworth. It's absurdly massive, varied, beautiful and above all, absurdly well organised. We visited on Easter Sunday, which must surely be just about the stupidest possible time to go to any significant tourist attraction, so by rights we should have been queuing constantly, packed in with millions of other long-suffering parents and overtired kids and prevented from experiencing anything remotely worthwhile. But we were in and parked within ten minutes of passing the main entrance, we never felt cramped and because we didn't buy anything other than our tickets we escaped bankruptcy. That's more than it seems reasonable to ask for I think.

Easter backlog #1

A long weekend away from the iMac has led to something of a photo shortfall. Luckily we went to the in-laws in Sheffield so there will be no problem making up the difference. Not only did we visit Chatsworth (see the next entry, or the one after that), but one of the in-laws' dogs has just had a litter of absurdly cute puppies. This is one of them. I can't be certain which one this is, but it could be Huxley, Max, Millie, Bella, Arthur or Eli. The kids were, of course, blown away by the pups. To be honest, I was too, but Madge was less enthused - and quite right too of course - so we didn't bring one back with us this time. Perhaps next time...

Shiny shiny

Not much time to seek photographic inspiration today - was on solo parenting duties as I think I mentioned yesterday. It was a good day though - no blood was spilled and the kids are still speaking to me. We clean the car so rarely that I had to choose this shot for the day's entry. I'm not sure it's ever looked this clean and I wouldn't be surprised if it never does again.

One of today's highlights was dragging the kids into Park Cameras for what was supposed to be a ten minute mosey, but which turned into a full-blown camera geek orgy of f numbers, ISO and fast glass talk. They were very patient - for most of the time anyway. And now I know what cameras I lust after. There are two: a Nikon D90 for proper photography and a Ricoh R10 for point 'n' shoot duties. Oh, and a Sigma 30mm f1.4 lens for the Nikon. And maybe an SB600 flash. But that's it. Honestly!

Magical moment at work

Some days it's just impossible to get out of the house to indulge in photoseeking, more's the pity. Luckily I was forced to endure a really quite dull 78-minute conference call, during which I was struck by the idea of capturing the moment that my phone's clock reached the magical hour mark. Yes, that's how bored I was.

It was a slightly trickier challenge than you might think because I was using a tripod and timer to avoid any camera shake, so I had to press the shutter with just slightly over five seconds to spare. You'll see I erred slightly on the cautious side. This is because the alternative - waiting another hour to capture that elusive 59:59 moment - was simply too much to bear (I should perhaps add that the phone zeroes itself each hour, perhaps because it simply can't believe that any phonecall could possibly last longer than that. Pah! to naive telephone equipment I say).

Tomorrow I have both kids to look after as they're on their Easter holiday now - not sure if this will make it easier or harder to grab a shot. We shall see.

Spring springing

It took me about 20 minutes to get this shot - I mean from leaving my front door to capturing this specific image - but it took me about three times that to get it catalogued and converted and tweaked and uploaded here because I started using Lightroom today, a powerful image management program that makes life much easier...eventually, allegedly. For now I'm on the learning curve and it's a reasonably steep one.

But enough of such nerdy nonsense - the picture's quite nice isn't it? One of the interesting comments made by our tutor on the course I've just finished was that it's always possible to find a good photograph, wherever you are. It's just a case of seeing it. I'm not saying this one's particularly fabulous but I have walked past a lot of blossoming trees before when out looking for pictures. Is there anything more filled with hope and promise and optimism than a tree in blossom?

Austin Seven at Devil's Dyke

Austin Seven at Devil's Dyke
Originally uploaded by humbert15

I'm blogging this from within Flickr (there's a phrase that would gave completely thrown me until relatively recently...). I'm doing this in the interests of expediency (my supper will be ready very soon) and to see how well it works.

The shot was taken this morning at Devil's Dyke, where we were off for a brief hangover-busting ramble before a rather late and boozy lunch. There were Austin Sevens everywhere - clearly en-route to Madeira Drive for some rally or other. They're such gorgeous little cars and these two gents seemed to me the perfect people to be driving one - very friendly, slightly eccentric and remarkably well preserved for their age :)

Odd bubble-blowing gizmo

Day three and I've cheated again! This was taken yesterday but I didn't get round to posting it because we had houseguests and were having far too much fun to do geeky things like feeding a blog. This is one of many weird and wonderful machines made by Circus Kinetica, a Brighton-based arts collective who make amazing things out of stuff they find lying around. They've converted the basement of Embassy Court, a landmark building on Hove seafront, into a workshop and this is the kind of stuff that emerges from it. It's inspiring stuff - typical Brighton. I do love living here...

Pebble gull

So, day two and I'm already cheating. I took this one yesterday, not today, but life was easier yesterday, the weather was better, work less demanding. So I'm forgiving myself. This pebble sculpture was made by a homeless Irish guy on Brighton seafront as a way of earning himself a bit of beer money and some self-respect. He said it took him days - I'm guessing hours actually, but I don't want to take anything away from his achievement. He reckons he's the only pebble sculptor in the country and it seems churlish to argue with that. We spoke for 10-15 minutes and he was very happy for me to take pictures of his work. I'm slightly irritated with myself that I didn't take his picture too - rapport was definitely established and I don't think he'd have minded - but it never occurred to me to ask. Perhaps a proper photographer would be staight back the next day to ask...perhaps I'm not a proper photographer.

Fire escape shadows

Went walkabout this afternoon in search of something suitably lovely for the first proper photoblog shot. Didn't have much inspiration if I'm honest but this caught my eye. I think this is going to be very challenging some days. But hey! what's life without a challenge?

Looking up...

Oh yada yada with the work-related bullshit already. I'm being boring and I will now stop (the astute among my imaginary readers will have already worked out that this means I haven't had that tricky conversation with my boss and that I'm rationalising furiously to find ways of avoiding it for good. The clever money's on me with this one).

But anyway, spring's arrived, the daffodils are already wilting, the blossom's out big style and the weather's been kind enough to dry out the trails of the South Downs and thus make them accessible to middle-aged mountain bikers who aren't dedicated or brave enough to tackle them in the middle of winter. Just this afternoon - a regular working day - my terrible boss told me to take an hour or two off as I'd been good enough to stick around and send out a couple of messages last night. So I took the mountain bike and headed off for a quick blast, as you can see from the picture, which was taken just 20 minutes from my front door. I've not really got all that much to complain about have I?

My perky mood is all the more welcome because I spent eight or nine hours this weekend at a house party, where I indulged in dubious practices best reserved for 20-somethings, and deejayed for what must have been at least half the time I was there, if not longer. It was enormous fun - a delightful throwback to how I spent much of my time in the 90s - and the best part of it is that I've not had to pay too high a price on the recovery front, if you get my drift. I have, it seems, escaped undepressed. Life is not so bad, it's official.

Now I've got less angst to moan about I might turn this into more of a photographic blog. I've been thoroughly enjoying a digital photography course that's just finished, so I'm looking for a new outlet for my efforts - something to keep me inspired and in the proverbial game. I might even try to make it a daily thing...let's see how we get on.

Consider the shot above my opening gambit.