Photographing the past

Whenever you take a photo, the moment that you’ve taken the shot, that very instant, is gone. It will never return. Whenever you take a photo you are photographing the past. You are taking a photo of ghosts. 

Sand Bay, North Somerset. England. May 2017. 

Night time musings

Kept awake by neighbours having a party till well past four. Dog growling at them from beneath the covers. Sounds of car doors slamming and people laughing. Actually, it being the weekend I’m not that bothered. I can catch up on sleep today. Fell asleep again for 1/2 hour.  It eventually gets quieter. Only a clock ticking.

I dreamed I could fly, and showed some people in a large room that I could. I kissed a woman. She had three children. We sat and made a meal. I met her dad, he didn’t like me. He ate my food, inviting himself to dinner. I shook his hand and crushed it. Suddenly I had an attack of guilt. 

I wake with a painful face. I’ve now got more acne ( a breakout in the last few days) than I’ve ever had ever. I can’t believe it’s so bad.  Puberty redux (or puberty, the directors cut) sucks. I’m too old for all this !

Saturday. How can I get through today without wearing a sack on my head? 

Sketch 5 -potatoes


Well I sort of cheated on sketch 5 because I got the idea from a watercolour book I’m reading, so I can’t claim complete originality. However, the sketch here is mine and actually took the full hour and a few little bits on top as well. A difficult sketch and a good one to learn from so I’m glad I did it.

Everything here looked muddy and flat until I added the shadow below with the Payne’s grey and indigo blue which suddenly made the colour of the potatoes “pop” and gave them 3D life. Lessons learned: could have used less glaze in the middle of the potatoes to give them more of a “shine” and I could have made the potato on the right a more interesting shape.