Bubble burst moment

I was aiming for a good bubble image with this and about 100 other shots today but it just didn't happen. If you click on this one and view it full size, though, you'll see from the hundreds of tiny droplets that I've luckily caught the moment a bubble burst. Thankfully, Marni has a vaguely suitable expression on her face too. So this one will do I think.

Seafront shadows

I was thinking today, as I randomly strolled around looking for photographic inspiration, how much easier it would be to decide what to photograph if I had some sort of overarching theme to bear in mind. And that's when it struck me how much I like shadows - the way they change things, how completely we take them for granted, the depth they give to textured surfaces, and so on. So maybe that's something I'll bear in mind the next time I'm randomly strolling around looking for photographic inspiration. Or maybe not. We'll see.

YMCA

I just love this picture. Technically it's all over the place, obviously, but just look at what's going on here! The focal point is obviously Stewart's mum, bless her, putting everything she's got into the Y of that timeless Village People classic while nervously looking around her to make sure she's doing it properly. No such reservations from our friend the air hostess in the left foreground, oh no. She's quietly confident as she runs through the motions with no unnecessary drama, but with just a little bit of a flourish. You know, because she can. Stewart has clearly turned into a man twice his real age, strutting around in tiny circles, pointlessly pointing to somewhere in the middle distance, and smiling benignly as he quietly recites the words to himself with his eyes closed. Meanwhile, around the edges of the dancefloor, the ladies look on kindly, smiling that "you're making a complete arse of yourself but it's okay, we still love you" smile, and inwardly congratulating themselves for having resisted Stewart's pleas to join him on the dancefloor. It's a quintessential English wedding reception scene.

Chill the house

We stayed in a B&B in Rickmansworth on Friday night, run by a frosty woman called Mrs Childerhouse, appropriately enough. I like to think that we're quite personable and easy to get along with - even when we have the kids with us. On this occasion it was just our charming selves, which really doesn't leave a lot to complain about if you ask me. But Mrs Childerhouse greeted us with an icy expression as we approached her front door. I held out my hand, saying cheerily "Hello, I'm Martin, this is my wife Rachael, and you must be..."

"Mrs Childerhouse," said Mrs Childerhouse in a disapproving monotone, shaking my hand firmly and coldly. We walked in - mistake number two: "Would you mind awfully wiping your feet please?" she asked. I wiped my perfectly clean feet and stepped onto her rather threadbare hall carpet.

By the time we'd reached the top of the stairs she'd already asked us twice not to wake her when we came back from the wedding. By the time we left an hour or so later, she'd asked us again. In our perfectly unexceptional room there was the usual too-soft mattress on a too-small bed, a couple of rough old towels whose last hint of fluffiness was rubbed off years ago, and these three rather folorn plates on the wall, which took me flying back to the seventies with an unpleasant jolt. We were really quite pleased to leave the following morning (and no of course we didn't wake her just for a laugh when we crept in at 2.30...)

The perils of spring time

It's been a busy few days without a great deal of photographic creativity (plenty of opportunity, just not much going on in my head) so it's slim pickings tonight I'm afraid.

As you can see from the above, our garden has been replaced by a massive trampoline - actually it's not massive at all but the garden is very small so the trampoline doesn't have to be all that massive to dominate it completely. I'm still not convinced it's the best idea in the world - for not only is it going to damage my beloved ten square foot lawn as the summer wears on, but it's already damaged my beloved daughter. Yes Marni fell off it today and broke her arm, just two days after cutting her head following a nasty fall at my sister's flat in London.

I was going to make this rather sorry image my photo of the day but I decided to go for something from before today's disaster - something that shows just how much of our garden is now consumed by this deadly toy. It's just possible that you may see it on eBay before the week's out...

The broken arm of the law

Some days you can be walking along, camera in hand, feeling mildly depressed and uninspired by your surroundings, and wondering what on earth it was that persuaded you that it would be a good idea to commit to posting a new picture to your blog every day. Everything around you may look flat and familiar; there may be nothing there to catch your eye or ignite your imagination. You may be on the point of going home pictureless. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot something lying on the pavement. It may be nothing, but you cross the pavement to have a look anyway. It turns out to be nothing but a bit of broken toy - the arm of a plastic policeman - but there's something about it that just works, on that grubby pavement, with the shadows being as long as they are.

Unfortunately, today wasn't such a day. I had a completely flat photographic stroll at lunchtime and came back empty handed, feeling hopeless. As luck would have it, I had this one in the wood because I took it on the same day I stumbled upon one of the Anish Kapoor pieces. So that's alright then.

Panda girl

Given that the vast majority of the several thousand pictures I've taken with digital cameras have been of my family - and most of those of my kids - I'm slightly surprised to note that this is only the second one I've used on the blog. I suppose I've been sensitive to the notion that any photographer parent is going to like pictures of their kids more than most other people will, irrespective of how good they are (the pictures I mean - there's obviously a limit to the fondness one can have for disobedient kids). The assumption is that eyebrows will immediately go skyward, and fingers will automatically drum on tables at the first sight of a sentimental family portrait. But dammit I don't care - this is a photograph of my beautiful five (very nearly six) year-old daughter Marni. And I think it rocks.

C-Curve

Finally went to see Anish Kapoor's C-Curve today and despite hangover, demanding kids and a very tight schedule, I'm delighted I did. It's a stunning object - so stunning that it's easy to think you've failed to do it justice, whatever photographs you get of it. I like this one and a couple of the others I got (see my Flickr pages for more) but none of them comes even close to this beauty, or, better still, this one. But hey ho, there's always better stuff than yours out there isn't there?

GelGem Windowcling

I missed yesterday because I was engaged in all sorts of nightmarish work activities, followed by a storming night out in London with my brother. We went to see Pivot, a most excellent Australian math rock outfit who kept us well on our toes with their cheeky 5/4 rhythms, the scamps. I took a photo of the mirror ball at the Hoxton Square Bar and Kitchen, but it was only on my phone and I was a bit drunk so it came out considerably worse than I hoped it might.

Today I'm too tired to think about anything so I went for the first little stab of inspiration I've felt all day - these rather fetching GelGem Windowcling things that the kids were given this morning for being good. I could have cleaned up that little splodge in front of the ball but I decided it added a bit of gritty realism (either that or I couldn't be bothered - you decide).

Teenage boy love

Teenage boys and their too-cool-for-school nonchalance! There are things about this picture I'm not that wild about but the thing I do like about it is the expressions on these boys' faces. As their BMX bandit mate flies within inches of them, twisting his bike this way and arching his body that, they do their best to pretend nothing's happening. Except they're fooling no one! Although the kid in the white t-shirt is doing a reasonable job of looking bored, some of his mates are disguising their admiration for the flying cyclist - and their obvious delight at just being there, together with their mates - very poorly indeed. The expression on the face of the lad with the peaked cap can only be described as love. Bless them.

The Dismemberment of Jeanne d'Arc

I was walking through the old municipal market in Brighton yesterday taking not very inspiring photos of graffiti when I noticed a girl sitting at a desk, encouraging passers-by into a huge dilapidated market hall. Inside were three or four curious red objects like this one, together with a hole the size of a small swimming pool. The inside of the hole - and the two huge piles of earth that had come out of it - had been painted the same vivid red as the weird lumpy sausage objects.

The effect was very striking - all the more so because of the drab greyness of the hall and some strategically placed red spotlights. The scale was impressive too - it's probably hard to tell from this picture but the sausage you're looking at is at least 30 feet long and 6 or 7 feet high, and the hole was at least 6 feet deep. The overall impression was surprisingly peaceful and meditative I thought. I have no idea how this relates to the dismemberment of Jeanne d'Arc, but that's the name of the piece - and it's by Anish Kapoor, the artist who's curating this year's Brighon Festival. There are a few more photos on my Flickr pages if you're interested.

Disco New York

Incredible though it may seem when you look at the shimmering loveliness of this sign, Disco New York is not in fact a glamorous nightspot frequented by Brighton's beautiful people.

Lachrymose pebble

It's tough being a pebble sometimes...

Not a picture of thousands of starlings

Confession time: I took this shot in March, not today. In my defence, today's photographic efforts were restricted to a few old 'uns playing bowls in the park and try as I might I couldn't get myself sufficiently worked up about it to capture anything exciting. And anyway I like this shot so why shouldn't I give it a plug here? Whose rules are we following anyway?

There was a pretty spectacular sunset going on the night I captured this one. I was on the pier trying to avoid photographic clichés (which is really quite hard when you're on Brighton pier and there's a great sunset going on I can tell you). It was also roosting time for the starlings, and for a few glorious moments they were swarming around me like bees - I could hear thousands of individual wing beats as they flew over my head and beneath my feet. It was truly exhilarating. But this isn't a picture of that...

Kitesurfer

In haste tonight, because it's late but I don't want to miss two days on the trot. Here's one of several kitesurfing shots I grabbed after work tonight. There was one guy who was head and shoulders above the rest - epic jumps more than 20 feet into the air and perfect landings - but the swine never did it when I was watching. I'd track him carefully whenever he came anywhere near the shore but he'd never deliver until about two seconds after I lowered my camera. Time and again I'd look away in frustration, knowing he was just about to do something spectacular, but also that he was now too far away to capture it properly. Sure enough, a few seconds later I'd look out to sea and there he would be, flying over the waves at ridiculous heights and with absurd grace. Pah!

Anyway, it was nice to hang out with NigeyB and drink some of his beer while the kitesurfers kitesurfed and my fingers slowly went white thanks to my corporate boy circulation issues. I may post more of these - I was reasonably pleased with them.

PS - do us both a favour - click on this one and view the large version.

Glum seasonal worker

You've got to feel for Santa haven't you? Works his butt off for one bewildering night in the middle of winter, then mooches around - unemployed and, frankly, unemployable - for the remaining 364 days of the year. I spotted him hanging out on the balcony of an empty house down the road - looks like he's been reduced to squatting. Where's his dignity for God's sake?

Upside down Pavilion

This curious thing is a spectacular sight when the sun's shining and there are clouds scudding across the sky. I can't remember the artist's name or exactly what it's called, which isn't good enough really is it? I'll find out and will update this post when I have. I don't know if it's still in the Pavilion gardens but it's worth seeing in the flesh if it is, because one of the interesting things is how the reflection changes as you walk around it. It was a bugger to expose properly mind...

Geriatric shape-cutter

This guy's a proper character. He was dancing to the crap-pop that was blaring out of the speakers at the end of the Children's Parade - apparently he does the same every year. He clearly takes his dancing pretty seriously - I was watching him for a good five minutes and he didn't smile or acknowledge my presence once, but then he didn't seem to mind having his photograph taken either, so I'm not complaining. His dancing style is best described as geriatric shape-cutting I suppose. It consists mainly of chopping the air and shuffling around a half beat or so behind the music. I suspect he used to be more mobile than he is these days but he's certainly game, I'll give him that - and you've got to love that outfit haven't you?

Children's Parade banner

Yesterday's Children's Parade was the usual riot of colour and noise and juvenile jostling. There was almost too much going on to see decent shots when they presented themselves but I think I got a few - depending what else comes up in the coming days I'll post some here. In these parsimonious times it's also a real treat to eat out for lunch, even if it was just greasy fish and chips from the Honeyclub and a couple of pints of Kronenburg, so all told it was a good day.

Knackered old door

Yesterday I took lots of photos of the Brighton kids' parade - rather too many, perhaps, as I now have a large sifting & editing job on my hands. While I'm doing that, here's one I took in town the other day. I don't know whether the door's been prepared for painting or if it's just completely knackered - hardly matters really I suppose, but I'd prefer it to be the latter for some reason.

Seafront cyclist

I was really hoping this guy would turn neatly side-on to the setting sun to give me one of those wonderful shots where the shadow really makes the picture, but the swine wasn't having any of it, so this will have to do. I quite like the colour/texture/patterns of the ground and that rather unsightly dribble of whatever it is... Let's be positive and assume it's sea water shall we?

I think this one looks miles better when you click on it to see it full size. When you do this you can even tell what kind of bike he's riding: a Specialized Langster (does that make me a bit sad?)