Photoanalysis 3.

Manchester Wheel.
December 2005, Manchester, England.

To me, the wheel looks like it has adopted the characteristics of a proud nude. Also, it reminds me of a huge fan, hypnotism and a big web. It looks ridiculous in its well-lit stance. It reflects itself at the building next to it, some clothes box or other. The glowing Arndale Centre sign reminds me of an amplifier found in a darkened gig location, passive and active at once. The carrier berries hang dead and gormless from the circular monster's outer ring. Where is the bicycle?

I am pleased with this photograph, it is an absurd postcard. The ground's all blackness and the sky stonewash denim. Damn, now I can never use those descriptive terms again without seeming lazy. The snake-skin cracks in the pool house-greened windows pleases my eyes. And my hyphen-finger.

Somehow, this photo looks like a composite crafted through the software of Adobe by a budding architect. It was all accidental, snap fans - I am an intuitive practioner. Cameraneurship, you make me famed and alive with bullshit.

Photoanalysis 2.

Dreamland.
November 2005, Margate, Kent.

My original shot appears here with its boxed-up counterpart. The blue box is for sky, the red for line-shapes and the white for letter-shapes. There is a lot of brick in this picture. There is a trio of flat and tall structure that stop you from staring at pure atmosphere. There are letters and ghost letters on the brick, CASH BINGO, DREAMLAND and DREA. Does the DREA suggest the blossom of dread or dreary? The uppercase letters tell of simple fact, does what it says. The foam-sweet curves of the DREA tell of the formerly illuminated face of the giant word, many small bulbs, and for who? These bulbs aren't cheap, this electricity isn't free. The smeared sharps of the projected gold merely told of an exciting and inviting place to put yourself, a land of dreams, an establishment of your imagination providing a service which surpasses it. I feel so spoilt now, dribbling innocent sarcasm.

The remains of faded, intentional graffiti show how the style of signage changed, when the painted word was no longer enough for the dazzled punters and indecisive travellers. Does cash bingo feature in your dreams? Cash is the prize, bingo is the obstacle. Those yellow capitals are now redundant too. The dream is over for Dreamland. The cash has bin and gone. That was an act of sadness.

So for all of the bricks, letters and nods to the past, a past where Dreamland had more success in financial terms, we are given a static relic, a former glory, a dead business. To some people it was a holiday factor, to others it was a noisy eyesore. To me, it was a ripoff and far too limited in its rides [by the age of eleven - the Looping Star scared me witless]. In defense of Dreamland, they did have a hacked Streetfighter 2 machine.

I forgot to say...

Yesterday, Ben [thee filmstudiesmanchester version] and I went to the People's History Museum, the Chinese Arts Centre and the Arndale Market, hidden underneath the Arndale Shopping Centre.

The market was a complete surprise to us, there are stacks of interesting [nonyounger/nonstudent/nonwhite?] faces up for grabs. I'm sick of being reminded that I am part of a multicultural society - let's exploit those difficulties for a change!

Viva Paint.

I have never done that before in my life. It felt wonderful. I must do it again soon.

Photoanalysis 1.

Who? Me.
What? The communications centre of Herne Bay seafront.
Where? Herne Bay, Kent.
How? A digital camera [the Fuji FinePix S5500 Zoom]
Why? A fine day, a lot of red.

I have the [dis?]advantage of having taken this photograph; I can tell you where, how and why it was committed to card and hard disk. I enjoyed the three major reds, the man-made reds. I enjoyed the nature-made blues of the sea and sky. I liked the nature-made, man-allowed green of the grass, and sign-made, which are man-made, shadows. There are five visable signs:

1/CENTRAL PARADE [a newer breed of street sign, I can tell by the lettering]
2/Welcome to HERNE BAY [there are several of these black information displays around]
3/A missing person notice on the telephone box window
4/A tiny, unreadable sign next to the white house at the end of the row
5/A flat and obscured sigh on the lamp post

The telephone box and the pillar box are tradition red. The Welcome sign looks could be alive. The grass is somewhat malnourished closest to 'us'. The bollards harbour rust. The sky and sea look calm. The composition is somewhat cluttered, but I like it. The houses are one long house. The gravel has been worn down at its edges closest to the grass. The bollard shadows form 'L's. I am reminded of a happy hometown in summer, the sunshine, the nature, the coastal walks. I am reminded of the classic designs [pillar box, telephone box] that populate England=Old London=England giftshops. Many pillar boxes have been replaced by glass 'n' metal, smash 'n' replace jobs. With urine-aroma-easing gaps at their bases.

The false past, the safe childhood familiarity, the useless keyring, the subtle postcard, the desktop ornament. A static and plain image which to me is loaded with tiny prompts. The endless sea and sky trivialise our roadnames and information displays. The instant rooftops are sneered at by the dying grass. The bollards could not withstand an apocalypse, they just stop cars. I have never seen anyone tear down a pillar box. One chimney is like a cigarette box, one smoke popping up for air. The aerials pray toward Granada. Behind the crazed menu of fencing peer cleaned, mushroom oblongs of accommodation. Who knows where the roads go?

Next follow the objects/'characters' of the scene, then a version with the direct nature [rather than modern man nature] parts crudely removed.

Haste and error, a successful pairing.

I forgot - I got giftshops and information centres mixed up. Information or merchandise? Why not both? My final shop will feature a large selection of both. Perhaps I need a small shed...

Neglected to say.

I forgot that I could also design novelty stamps and serious underwear.

Giftshop.

I will visit several giftshops/information centres and note the kind of merchandise and information that you can find there...I want a whole host of options for this travel 'n' tourism gig. There is so much interesting information to be discovered and shared, as long as people are willing to allow the source. Imagine 'Heat' magazine populated by the stars of the communities of yesteryear, fishmongers with stories...goodness, I AM a dick.

Peak postcards.

I love the Peak District. From the thirty-odd photos that I took, two are worth keeping. I am now aiming to create one 'postcard picture' per day, for every day that I am in France. At the end, I will compile the shots into a book of some sort, though I cannot yet decide on whether or not I should include the notes that I will make. Facts+observation=journalism?