After a long Winter break where the grey skies and rain inspired me to keep my camera away from the grey skies and rain I’ve finally returned to my photography place now and spent part of the last week out and about with my camera bag over my shoulder trying to work up the courage to try some street photography.
I’m not quite there yet. I worry that people will get angry that there’s a man sticking his zoom lens up the skirts of their girlfriends. Upskirt is still street photography, okay?
So, I’ve restrained myself and stuck to those who only complain through the medium of mediums and phantasmal projections: the dead. I recently sauntered around Kingston Cemetery and managed to not tread on a single squirrel as I clicked away merrily. After my clicking frenzy drew some looks from mourners I whipped out my camera and took some photos instead.
Now That’s What I Call A Cramped Grave!
If at first you don’t succeed then try, try, try again.
This is good advice if you are a spider near a Scotsman. Everyone knows what Scotsmen are like when there are spiders around and no witnesses. Run for it spider! Run! Stay away from the kilt Carol Anne!
As advice goes it’s also ranked as "good" when discarding bananas into the path of pursuing Death Monkeys. They might go for one of them if they fancy a snack or, alternatively, slip over and split their skulls in twain in a comedy manner. Persevere and don’t give up.
Infant death, though. Maybe it’s just me but after about the third one had died early I might have said: "Ah, forget it. Let’s adopt a penguin." Or: "I think we’ve conclusively proved they lose their bounceability early in their development." Or: "Perhaps we should try feeding this one." Or: "Satan has tainted your breast milk with arsenic! A pox on your procreative juices!" Or: "Mum, this just isn’t working."
1.21 Gigawatts Later
One of the joys of photographing old things is wondering just what they would have looked like in their original form.
Thus it was as I came across a gravestone cross that had at some point collapsed upon itself. Usually, when out and about photographing women undressing through their bedroom windows I take the Focus – it has a quiet idle just perfect for perverted picture-producing – but on this particular day I’d taken the DeLorean for a jaunt.
88 MPH and 1.21 gigwatts later I crashed into a pristine marker cross in the cemetery 82 years in the past. Was I embarrassed? You bet.
Sometimes photography is just about being in the right place at the right time. Had Joe Rosenthal been on Mount Suribachi a couple of hours before the American soldiers raised the flag during the battle of Iwo Jima I guarantee the picture would not have raised many eyebrows in the art world. Or his employers. "Another hill Joe? We aren’t paying you to photograph hills Joe. You could have stayed home and photographed hills Joe."
After swapping over lenses on my camera I happened to look up into the branches of a nearby tree and saw a black bird sitting there. I don’t know if the black bird was a blackbird, a raven, a crow, a rook, or an albatross because birds do not interest me. Nevertheless, the silhouette itself intrigued me and I steadied myself to take the shot.
At that precise moment a wormhole into an alternate universe opened up behind the tree creating the inverted gravitational lensing effect you see in the photograph. Which was nice.
Of course, one way to guarantee being in the right place at the right time is to plan well in advance, arrive early, and play the waiting game.
It was no accident that I went to Kingston Cemetery on the day and time in question. Old Wumpard’s Almanac is a faithful companion that both fits nicely in the back pocket and protects from stray bullets thanks to its Kevlar cover. Moreover, it listed this past Thursday as the end times as predicted in the Bible in St Paul’s letters to his landlady Ethel (Old Wumpard’s Bible, 3rd edition onwards).
Right on cue the ground shook and split asunder and the Great Demon Lord strode forward. The sky filled with ash and thundered and a blood light drained out of the pits of Hell. I fired off a few shots including the one pictured, said act being enough to distract the Great Demon Lord who tripped over a statue of Mary and cracked his nose on a celtic cross forcing him to call off the whole end of the world event.
All as predicted in the Bible.
I do so like to help fulfill prophecy when I’m out and about.