'setting', state of mind, intent, I am not sure one can describe exactly the way this will go and why.
But there are various facts: firstly, seven years i have had in mind i must because i like to, share a range of imagery. In the way they were meant to be as they were then. As i have as superb memory. Especially for that which mattered - the true poignangies. The lovely outlier times, when you know you were meeting or experiencing some human, diferent....incongrous - the only truly attractive aspect of anyone. Once you grow up that is. And only true permanent hurtful loss tosses one up and over the barbed wire fence between that other state and this. And UK and many other suposedly advanced societies simply prostitute (definition, doing it for money) some notion that is so corrupt it may as well be puddles at the foot of a receding glacier before they disolve microplastics and before they get washed out in the next flood or landslide, that any hurt or badshit will ever go, and all there is is just taking interesting pictures of the scars because one day they will be pleaure, and seen even as artful gifts that last forever - well made, and fashioned from the real stuff of life that lasts, it is extraordinary.
This is not essay writing. That another day or year or state of mind, this one is all that matters - a state of mind long perceived that one day i may just enjoy sharing thousands of poignant images. The hard thing getting just enough of some of the stories they represent or partly capture. sometimes well, sometimes not so well into a paragraph or so; and finding some coherence because I do not wish to bore myself explaining anything never mind tell anyone else much - that will be elsewhere one day too. But being it has been a decade so thrilling and quite impossible it may take some time, because i do not wish the enjoying of it to cease and must thus live it still, just a bit longer.
'social history' another one of those rather dead phrases. Every image here has much life behind it - real life. Especially in the provinces - pretentious word for places away from the progressive modern parts of London such as say Hackney (i believe) Bristol Clifton even if that's complete fakery bourgeois construct, Hebden Bridge, ditto.... in places away from real or imagined well understood enlightenment values 'social history' is extraordinarily censored " you can't say / share that image" sourly or angrily shared.... - i mean the true real version. It is not photographic technique that matters or in my case lack of. It is that in fact almost all pictures here would enrage someone if the context were straightforwardly put. That is not my intent as i never even thought I would live long enough to get to a point of sharing, but why they may embitter is the point in short almost everywhere became a bourgeois construct especially the 'countryside' and what people say and post about it. I rather like truth. I am sure i am wrong and the narcissistic false theme park version does more people more utilitarian good in the medium term.... he says sardonically. Sardonicism is not the same as cynicism indeed almost is the opposite. I am never the latter. I do know also that fait accompli - knowing how absolutely useless most of us are and can be, is a wonderful vaccination that actually does work. Takes a little time but accepting what is in all her glorious iterations, really is good for the mind and especially the creative bit....
I shall give an example soon.
Hoever there is also true tension here and now. Tension doesn't do much for me. But a few know how close I am to .... Extinction - the healthy variety which nevertheless most would be terminally sleepless over. I let go and trust... i am not sure what or whom yet. We shall see.... maybe it will come to the judge one day soon, or maybe someone will ...collaborate. I have so much to share i shall never get to it all and i do know some has monetary value. But i don't think like that. I learned not to, ever. It is freedom if you can say that for real - i mean the real vesrsion that like his sunlime recreates itself every day at 5am at the embers of the fire, alone quiet just thoughts and knowing that one would not have this moment any other way and it is ONLY because of day to day absolute frayed shestring existence i have so many wonderful images to share ... never mind the energy and willingness to do so. And that is what these pictures really are about.
Mainly.
In fact almost all are... indeed all are.... if we go back to the first a decade ago yes.... that started it. The saddest weirdest possible circumstances for several people had me somewhere i found the most beautiful first image. The imprint of her flying away....
Will the last one come back though hahh hahhh.... £200 grand for free. .... now that is a story and a million as i said to the other one whom seems curiously flown away now " that one hour with her and her chilren was ALL of Gabriel Garcia Marquez whole genius superb magivcal realism social history cannon compressed into that one sublime hour.... including the extremely hardon bits.... her look... oh my ... her look... the way our fingers met over the fuzzy... and the way her children were just so ... they got it.... they got it... this lunatic infested sublimest tumbledown paradise is all for you.... all... or the safe bits at least....come.... "
