Trudging
Life has been changing, not sure if its changing quickly or slowly. At points I suddenly notice, like waking up in a new place. This work is definitely gathering speed. More plans have been made, I’m in different places physically, which is always good. I hate being stuck in the same place. But things are as always up and down, I’m more open about what this is now.
These frames are my sketches of future work, straight neg scans from a shite laptop screen, but I’m just concerned with whats in them. I have 126 miles to walk and photograph during; specific route, specific place.
I don’t want to do this but I’ve been questioned in the past and more recently of why I photograph and what I’m photographing. So those that ask me in the future will be directed here. I often find myself attempting to answer but spewing out a bunch of words that don’t really make any sense to anyone but me. I feel uneasy when I make a frame, and more uneasy with each one following; I’m drawn to this or at least drawn to the sensation of something different.
In the end what I consider to be my subjects are ‘nothing’ or ‘nothings’, at the time of capture I’m not concerned with what something is, but I am concerned with how it makes me feel. I used to photograph a lot and quickly but in the past few years I’ve slowed down, spent more time looking, and allow what I’m seeing to cause associating imagery or emotions flow through my mind.
In the end (it will sound cliched) but all I’m doing is attempting to get to grips with my own mind, imagination, dreams, thoughts and everything else that come with it.
In the end its all I can do, I couldn’t care less if it isn’t what I should be doing, I just do. Maybe it will stop at some point, I do have an expected time to stop, but you can’t plan these things. I could go on writing words, but I’d rather be making and looking at pictures, so here are a few recent ones:
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02-01-2008
Trying to find some old theatre photography I came across these.
The date of the folder says 2008-01 (2nd). So almost 3 years ago, it seems longer than that.
My grandmother and grandfather used to look after people’s dogs when the owners occasionally left the village to go on holiday. They must have had a long list of clientele as I’d see at least one new dog every month.
These were two of them, I don’t remember their names.
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Tags: care, dog, grandfather, grandmother, grandparents, holiday, matt lain, village
Banana House
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Tags: banana, gettin' around, house, london, lots of walking, matt lain, norwich, place
Judges’ Little Pictures
I bought a ‘pack’ of 10 sepia photographs made in Glengarriff for £3 this morning at a little antique fair in Norwich. The first thing that caught my eye was the single word ‘photographs’, also the brown paper packaging they were kept in, like a novelty trinket pre-wrapped and waiting for my eyes to find it. I grabbed the wallet quickly, bastard..
They are all hand printed landscape photographs measuring roughly 3.5×2″
After some research I’ve found that Glengarriff is not in Scotland like I thought, but West Cork in Ireland. A place I’ve suddenly decided to pay a visit to in the near future. I might take these cards with me, held out at arm’s length, comparing the surrounding landscape.
I also intend to visit Judges’, which is still “one of Britain’s leading publishers of quality picture postcards”. Based in Hastings, Sussex it was Fred Judge that first began this legacy as an entrepreneur and keen photographer. The business continues to run smoothly since it began in 1902, and based on the number references on these cards they are dated to have been printed between 1930 and 1932. I’ll leave the rest of the story to your own thoughts and possible research, but a nice piece of history to pick up at the price of a bus fare.
I love their delicacy both in aesthetic and technicality; the sometimes whimsical compositions reflect just the view a jaunty tourist might have had while passing by.
Enjoy!
PS.
13928 is my favourite. what’s yours??
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Tags: 1902, 1930, 1932, bastard, Fred Judge, Glengarriff, hand printed, Hastings, history, Ireland, Judges', norwich, photographs, pictures, postcards, sepia, Sussex, West Cork
New Light
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Tags: daylight, eyes, hmi, lamp, light, reflection, studio
The Voices
It is not a litany;
most of the time there is no
response, or there is a sigh
or a mumble or a slow
sobbing like someone alone
with such grief beyond sorrow
in the next room.
Then the phone
rings, and it is the living
with demand, invitation,
advice, or full listening
silence – nothing like the deep
self absorption of the long-
dead.
Sometimes when I’m asleep
they will speak in the voices
of distant trains, and the drip
of late raindrops from roses,
and the sigh of wind-stirred trees
at the back of the houses;
but these are merely echoes
telling me of things I know:
“In winter the ground will freeze.”
“I studied all day today.”
“The frying pan is greasy.”
“High is high and low is low.”
‘The Voices’ by Tony Connor
Photography by Matt Lain
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That was by Johnny Cash.
‘the worst way to miss someone is when you’re sitting right next to them and
to know you can never have them.’
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Tags: a cold wild wind will come, At my door the leaves are falling, Johnny Cash, the worst way to miss someone is when you're sitting right next to them and to know you can never have them
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