Posts from the ‘photography’ Category
Flying accusations.
One of my images from last year’s holiday to Jordan has been selected for My Own Wilderness, a collection of international photography curated by Christopher Pacquette the editor of PHOTO/arts Magazine.
Pretty chuffed about this – there are some beautiful images in the collection so it’s great to slot in alongside really stunning work that approaches the theme from very different directions.
Feeling a little bit like Siku today after a 15-mile walk yesterday.
Walking from sunrise to sunset (the days are short, it’s not that we walk slowly), we covered 3 London boroughs and spotted (amongst other things), a triangular castle, a lake filled with terrapins and walked under the Thames.
Not bad for a Thursday.
The thing I’m enjoying most about the Capital Ring is its variety. Chris warned us various councils had lobbied to have the route pass through their districts, showing off new leisure centre complexes and flagship urban developments. Fine. It’s unremarkable stuff but interesting to see what they’re all intent on displaying, how different areas prioritise services and how much (or rather how little) they’re all used. Walking the Greenway through Newham on a Saturday morning we were alone. In contrast, getting the bus to the station to go home and the high streets are rammed. It’s not even Christmas anymore but no-one else seems to be the slightest bit interested in anything other than spending.
It’s the fluctuation between wild common areas, landscaped public gardens, manicured football pitches, overgrown woods, well kept forest trails, decrepit riverside paths, long-forgotten urban developments left to rot and incredible architecture that is making this journey worthwhile. Few of these bits (triangular castle excused) are outstanding in their own right but the combination is amazing. We’re constantly saying things like “I don’t believe this is London” ; “where the hell are we?” and “are you sure this is the right way?”
Occasionally you’ll emerge for a few hundred yards along a road, nip across some crossroads and be transported somewhere else entirely. Then again you’ll see a sign steering you down some dimly lit back alley between two razor wire fences along a non-existant path that has been replaced by a bog. No, really.
