Camera findings

A few images from my troubled walks with my camera. The frost, rain and the fog were from this morning; the weather is very changeable here in Yorkshire.

© D. Archer. July 2017

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New Book out Soon

YakMilking_Cover

Yak Milking for Fun and Profit

Have you ever wanted to Milk a Yak for fun and profit? I know have, so I wrote this book to help with my mental disorder.
The book is 1,497 pages long, has 9 photographs (4 of them are in focus) and 2 drawings which shouldn’t be show to anyone under 21.

©D.ARCHER. JULY 2017

I’m not dead (physically)

Tree of Hope, Locke Park, Barnsley.

It’s been a while but due to the useless shenaningans on Instagram I’ve decided to post loads of my recent crap doodles back up on here. Apologies in advance if i’ve posted stuff before but think yourself lucky I can be bothered at all.
Enjoy, or don’t, I’m not fussed. Everything listed is mine, mine, mine I tell you!! Steal it and I will find you and bore you to death with stories of coal mining in Yorkshire.

© D. Archer. July 2017

Autumn in Yorkshire

Somewhere between losing my mind and finding myself I often am to be found wandering aimlessly around my local park. Not a lot of other humans to interrupt the solitude which is always a bonus.

All pictures are worthless but they are mine. © D. Archer. November 2016.

Winter Wanderings

Once again I have been lucky enough to spend some time in Scotland over the New Year and attached are just a few of the (in focus) photos that I have deemed worthy of sharing.

Even for a colour blind, ham fisted, amateur half wit photographer like myself taking photographs in Scotland is really like shooting fish in a barrel (apologies to all you vegetarians) but you put your camera on auto, point at stunning landscape and press shutter. Bingo Bongo Bob’s your auntie!

Words and Pictures © D. Archer. January 2016.

New Poetry Anthology

Need-Some-Milk-CoverIn order to rise some cash I have released my poetry anthology early, in fact so early that there are 356 blank pages at the back of the book for colouring in or making shopping lists or for all your hate mail practice letters.

There is a limited edition print run of 17 million copies and each and every one of them comes with a FREE DISEASE (I’m not telling you which one exactly but don’t scratch your privates or your lady garden).
 
I have struck a deal for this volume to be sold through all outlets of “Chest Infections Direct”, the walk in store where you can buy phlegm in bulk. Each copy sold will generate 0.0000000000000000000000000000000001 pence for “Save the Plankton” a cause close to my heart.
The picture is not to scale. Due to a minor publishing miscalculation the book is actually 2′ 6″ thick and in hindsight printing on Asbestos paper may not have been the best idea. Standard Postage is £33,768.
Remember….”Chest Infections Direct” – Your One Stop Shop for Coughs!
Words and Pictures © D. Archer . December 2015

Winter Wanderings

Whooooaaa! Hold your horses, you haven’t missed the apocalypse, these pictures are from my morning walk around my home town.

I’m lucky that the walk between my home and that of my mother takes me through a wooded area that is more interesting on deserted days like today than when it is swarming with humans.

I particularly like the ones where nature has started to reclaim the man made objects, the Lichen on the the litter bin and the way the tree has grown around the barbed wire.

I must admit to being a bit of a loner and the sense of emptiness and the forlorn has always held a particular fascination for me. Today with the poor light and sense of overcast weather is my type of day.

Mmmmmmmm……bland.

Words and Pictures © D. Archer. December 2015

New Poetry Collection

Adolf-U-Boat-Poetry_01

In order to raise some cash I have gone into the exciting world of paper book publishing.

For my first venture I have teamed up with the esoteric poet and performance artist Adolf Von U-Boat.

This poem entitled “Black clouds over Berlin” was written in 2014.

I once saw a girl from Skegness
In various states of undress
as she sat on the beach
the sight of her peach
set my pacemaker off in distress.

Adolf was born in Barnsley in 1946 shortly after his parents arrived from Germany. His mother (also called Adolf) died of shock at seeing Barnsley Markets in 1947 and young Adolf was brought up under the wrathful gaze of his father Heinrich.

Adolf’s early life in Barnsley was difficult to say the least, his left-handedness and film star good looks made him an easy target on the mean streets of Smithies. Locked away in his bedroom Adolf dreamed of being a writer and so he learned to write as this was a valuable skill in becoming a writer.

Then he became a priest and other stuff happened to him.

Only now have his 17 million poems been discovered in his attic and Volume One is available to buy from all good bookshops (but not on-line, Adolf thinks the Internet is run by a team of secret Leprechauns that steal your fingernails when you are asleep)

Words and pictures © D. Archer. December 2015.