Ascend

I have a head for heights it’s true, but no stomach for the depths. Strange then to have plumbed so many.

Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body

Shot from the window of a Boeing 777 traversing the Sahara, near Tassili n’Ajjer, Algeria, en route from Abuja to London last week.

Grounded now for two or three weeks for some long overdue surgery, painful but a relief to be out of the air for a while!

Created with iPhone 6S for WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge, Ascend.

serene

Death, therefore, the most awful of evils, is nothing to us, seeing that, when we are, death is not come, and, when death is come, we are not.
– Epicurus

we chase it
for eternity
yet, what do we lose

in our (endless)

chase
for, that
serene

(moment)

and
can
we find
it
before that
door

closes?


a dark slice of poetry for wordpress weekly photo challenge – Serene

*shot with fujifilm x100f with fixed 23mm (35mm full frame equivalent) lens at ISO1250, f/4 and 1/60s*

banal ball(s)

Writing in today’s Observer newspaper, Laura Cumming’s review followed the headline (at least in the print version) ‘These swings don’t mean a thing’ describing the Superflex installation in the Turbine Hall of the Tate Modern as ‘by far the worst Turbine Hall commission in the history of the Tate Modern’, and went on to suggest that, if she were Hyundai (who sponsored the commission), she’d ask for her ball back.

I am no art critic, but I wonder if her review missed part of the essential point of the Tate Modern? It is an open expansive space, much of which can be viewed freely. A space where those unfamiliar with art can have their eyes opened, their lives changed. The vast expanse of the Turbine Hall is indeed a challenging space for any artist to fill, no matter how sweeping their ambition or profound their talent.

Continue reading

the ongoing moment

Everyone was nowhere to be seen
― Geoff Dyer

During all my frequent flying, I’ve finally got round to reading Geoff Dyer’s The Ongoing Moment, which I purchased in The Tate Modern Bookshop well over a year ago.

I’ve been particularly fascinated by the hatted figures in raincoats which feature in the work of Kertész. Blurred, and often awkwardly placed within the frame, strangely compelling, we share a fleeting moment in the life of these strangers.

This morning, as I nursed a cup of strong coffee after an overnight flight from Accra to London, I also lingered over an image of a group of people on a bench, World’s Fair New York 1964, made by Garry Winogrand.

I was about to delete the image above (too blurry and clumsy), but there was something about the group of people, the interplay between them, the connections, the role played by the pictured photographer unaware of her own involvement in another photo, something that made me stop pressing the delete button.

So, this image, blurry and unsatisfactory though it is, is my homage to Geoff Dyer for opening my eyes and encouraging me to learn from the work of some of the greatest photographers.