Blog Archives

Gate II

It is the law that one graffito attracts another – giving us the more familiar plural term: graffiti. This is especially the case on loo doors.

This is not a loo door – it is a metal gate cum door set into a thick stone wall overlooking the Rio Lima.

Thinking about loo doors has given me an idea.  It may not be a good one however.

graffiti gate


Before I post the results of Space to Create, which was a lovely day despite some of my evident conceptual and manual dexterity difficulties, I just thought I would credit yesterday’s street art piece and post another someone kindly emailed me the other week.

Stik is a street artist closely associated with the place where my heart lies, Hackney. You can see more of his work here. It seems that although all stick people are created equal, some are more artistically endowed than others.

Scriven St E8

Scriven St E8

Wabi-sabi on the industrial estate

The girls go to Irish dancing practice in a local Celtic club on Saturdays, at the back of a decrepit industrial estate. Every time I drive through it I think, I must take some photos here. Today I did, but the thing that made me actually get out of the car on this occasion was that my eye was caught by the metal dumpster, full of colour co-ordinated cardboard crap. The other things were just gems and treasures along the same alley. There are at least two other alleys to explore… I can’t decide if the buildings are pre-war or just post. I’d like to know.

Wabi-sabi is a Japanese aesthetic based on the nature of things: both transient and imperfect. I think I may have taken a liberty with wabi-sabi values, but it’s such a great word and concept that I just had to reference the shots that way in my head.










Hoardings: a visual antidote to ranting

The last post had me stirred up and I needed to balance the blog up a bit, so…

I have a bit of a thing about photographing hoardings. When you get the photos home and fiddle a bit you can uncover layers that you couldn’t see with the naked eye. I think the coloured squares must be painted onto the wood to hide the graffiti, otherwise why would so many hoardings have these squares on them. Why would anyone care anyway, except me. Basically I’m uncovering what’s hidden under the paint, on here. Unhiding things, yes, that’s a bit of me I suppose. The graffiti isn’t worthy or interesting, it’s not even tagging really, but I can relax when I’m working with the images. On this occasion the image with the blue line on the edge was the one that got me the most. No matter what, the blue line, some sort of oil-based paint I think, always gives the appearance of hovering over the wood, not being painted on it. You don’t get the sense of this at all in situ. I might go back and take some more of that.

Perhaps I need a new blog devoted to photos of hoardings. Now, that’s an antidote to nearly everything…





A picture paints a thousand words

Anything more than that and words are probably needed.

But I have noticed, as time goes on, that if I take an image I like, I feel instantly happy.

Writing does not work in the same way. There cannot, like a picture, be another set of words. The words are the words and they can only be redrafted, rewritten, until enough is enough. These are today’s words and there can be no others.

Visuals just don’t work that way.

I am glad of it.


More Grey Skies

This morning, rain falls from them. Yesterday, we had a brief respite. Although I have passed flooded fields and roads over the past few days and have dreamed of being flooded myself we are not as likely to suffer the fate of so many others round the country. Having water plunging through your home must be a terrible experience.

The extended family have not always escaped the rising waters; some years ago my sister, Finky Wink, was flooded in her basement flat in West London and my Aunt and Uncle have been flooded three times in as many months in the West country. My father lives in an old water mill. Every year they watch the water cover the garden and creep up along the path to the house, but rising sea levels or not, whoever sited the mill (mentioned in the Domesday Book) on a very slight elevation had it right and the River Stour has never once made it through the door.

My own garden is a sea of mud. Wherever mud is not plastered, I can see a persistent moss green invading. It has spread up the wooden planter, over the paving and onto the fences. Whenever the dog goes out there, he returns up to his elbows in it and traipses it all over the floor. I wish he had galoshes to give the mop a break. Given the demented way he leaps out there and comes back with mud spattered all over his face, I swear he has mud fever. He is not the only one.

These photos are an attempt at a visual antidote to the unremitting grey, rain, damp green and ubiquitous mud out of my kitchen window. They were taken on yesterday’s walk. It’s given me an idea…



‘No Cycling’

A heart & a star

Both found on a wall near here. Some might say, graffiti ~ others, public art.

Don’t forget though, ‘every wall is a door…’

Don’t know what it’s called, but I like it

The sharp-eyed finkywink, a regular blog visitor and owner, spotted one of these graffiti arts peeling off behind the mound of rubble in a photograph I posted earlier this week. I have therefore entertained her curiosity with another photograph of a different one, on the same building.

The building is a rather nice Arts & Crafts single storey effort which I think is owned by the council and has been boarded for the nigh-on-five years I’ve been living here. Some while ago the artist pasted up a series of these posters, made from cuts in paper. I liked them then and now they are becoming quite distressed, I like them even more.

If there is a technical term for this type of thing perhaps someone will drop by and let us know. If not, it matters not. You either like something or you don’t; what it is called is sometimes not at all important.

Is this a Banksy?

Today I will be eating a goose lunch in Suffolk. This time last week, in the absence of a turkey lunch to cook, I was wandering the streets of London with Rudi. We started our wanderings in Barnes and then had more of them in Hackney. No prizes for guessing where I took this. By the time we had removed to Snaresbrook and then home to Southend he was starting to develop an aversion to walks.

Today we will be going to Suffolk via Hackney. Perhaps I should invest in some maps and charts.

Anyway I just wondered about this – I think it’s rather good.