At the bottom of Pandora’s box
I found an I.O.U.
© D. Archer . June 2015
In hindsight it may not have been such a good idea to read a selection of Sylvia Path before going to bed. It is very very unusual for me to dream or in fact to wake up with any thoughts in my head. This morning I woke up to the sound of rain.
I like rain.
Much like conversations with shopkeepers and old people
I skilfully avoid the coil of dog shit on the cinder path
as the arse crack showing cyclist
swept passed me like my youth,
all his cares de-frosting in a bag for life
low slung from the handlebars;
dangerously close to one wheel;
translucent to the light.
His reckless rolling scattered the complaining birds
from the car driven to ashes
and the weeds and wildflowers
the names of which I never learned in school
but whose smell dragged me back
to where I found your candid Polaroid
that I kept and hid in my room.
© D. Archer. June 2015.
(The names have been invented to make me sound vaguely interesting).
They say a writer writes best from life, so I killed myself to see the other side; but now I’m free of time and loving death, I can’t pick up a fucking pen!
(C) D.Archer. May 2015
Short fat bloke’s thumb
Vroom Vroom Voeckler
Leader of the pack
Vive Le Tour! Vive Le Tarn!
The Tour De Yorkshar (Phonetically if not culturally correct) swept through “Tarn” at a blistering cost to the tax payer. Newly paved roads and streets marshalled to keep smack heads and chavs on the side streets paid off wonderfully. I got myself in position early only to have a tall bald bloke muscle right in front of me at the last minute. Wouldn’t have minded if it was Dave Brailsford but it wasn’t. I swiftly pretended to rummage in his rucksack and he moved away, Huzzaahh.
I perched myself near the corner at the top of Regents street as I thought I would capture the event as the riders slowed down in front of the tarn ‘all but alas I would have had more success if I had been using an 1898 plate glass Pin hole camera on a tripod that weighed as much as an urchin!
38 seconds after the last picture was taken I left, cursing my lack of photography skills but it was indeed nice to see some sporting culture rattle through tarn and not something vaguely connected to coal, or the pits, or the miners, or soot, or the fact that we have one of the most transitory low paid workforces in the country or child poverty or NEDS or racism or grassball (or whatever it is they call it).
If you were the mystery waving hand in the last photo please get in touch.
Ta Ra frum Tarn!
© David Archer
Cultural Attaché for Tarn.
Landscape as Art
OK not as many photos as I would I have liked from Yorkshire Sculpture park but in fact the place was crawling with humans of all shapes and sizes creeping into every bloody shot. I got fed up in the end and to cap it all had an argument with a “yoof” who thought it was perfectly OK to climb on the sculptures in order for his girlfriend to capture his idiocy in technicolour for their FACETWAT page.
I have visited YSP on many occasions in all types of weather with friends and family and the place never ceases to amaze me. It’s shame this visit was tainted by the lack of respect shown to the sculptures but I’m sure they will be around a lot longer than the idiot who crossed my path.
© D. Archer . April 2015.
More fun with sharp objects. Celtic birds. Soon to be printed in various shades of success. I bought some cheap photo frames and am looking forward to finally getting some previous efforts framed and mounted. Approximate finished size will be around 6 x 6 inches. I’ll post pictures of the print when my blood pressure has returned to normal.
Please excuse the state of my cutting mat, it has other uses.
© D. Archer. April 2015
Ho Ho Ho, it’s a good job the Scottish Tourist Information Board doesn’t know where I live, posting all these terrible photos of their stunning scenery. You as well dear reader will be glad to know that of the 89,878 photos that I took, these are the least mediocre.
Camera crimes © D. Archer, April 20015.
Once again I have managed to reduce the immense natural beauty of the Scottish landscape down to a few blurred, badly composed and cropped calamities. Trust me, this place is much more stunning than my fat fingered fotographs could ever convey. Taken this April in the most pleasant walking weather one could wish for.
Landscapes © Deity of your choice. Happy Crappy Croppings © D. Archer, April 2015.
Though she slipped from this life
like time through your fingers
never to be held again,
there is a star in the sky
that aches to fall,
to shelter you from the closing day.
Hold on to these thoughts,
take as long as you need,
keep only those that made you smile
and to the four winds
set all others free.
© D. Archer. March 2015
Here are some more crimes against photography I committed whilst on a recent wander.
Once again I strongly urge you to stay away, its a terrible place, all that natural light, beautiful inspiring wildlife, scenery and lung cleansing fresh air. I can’t think of anything worse. You wouldn’t like it honestly.
Landscape © Deity of your choosing, photographs © D. Archer. February 2015