On being defined by your place

Long time readers may remember a post from last May called ‘Who are you?’ As well as musing on life and death, as ever, in this post I set myself the task of defining myself in as few words as possible so I could use them on the new business cards I was ordering.

who-are-you3

And here are the cards.

And the words by which I defined myself then.

And the words by which I defined myself then.

Well the cards have just about run out now and in getting ready to order some new ones I’ve been having a look at those words. And they felt limiting.

“Story teller, Historian, Writer, Film maker.”

I do those things (though I’m no longer available to make films for other people). But I also do other things that I write about on this blog and that are described elsewhere on the website. So in retrospect I think the exercise I set myself was too limiting, an attempt to appear to be relatively straightforward. When as I well know very few of us today can describe ourselves  with the short job titles from back in the long gone days of full employment, like ‘Engineer’ or ‘Clerk’. Most of us do a bit of this and, indeed, a bit of that. And I for one find that interesting.

So at the moment my continually shifting work includes finishing off a film for a community organisation, working with an NHS team on what they do and starting a book project on the history of somewhere. As well as writing about whatever I feel like writing about on here.

And the binding thread if there is one? Well it’s my sense of place, my wider Liverpool. The places where I walk, explore, run and work. If it’s happening in and around Liverpool and it interests me, then I might write about it or I might do some work on it.

So here is my wider Liverpool, the photographs I’ve taken over the past year or so that will soon be arriving on my new cards.

The deeply endangered grace and beauty of Eldon Gardens.

The deeply endangered grace and beauty of Eldon Grove.

The beautifully restored Bascule Bridge at the Stanlry Dock. Close to where my Dad was born on the Dock Road.

The beautifully restored Bascule Bridge at the Stanley Dock. Close to where my Dad was born on the Dock Road.

Gently crumbling on the Princes Landing Stage.

Gently crumbling on the Princes Landing Stage.

The River Mersey in the evening, walking back from Widnes.

The River Mersey in the evening, walking back from Widnes.

'Of the people, by the people, for the people.' Granby 4 Streets Market.

‘Of the people, by the people, for the people.’ Granby 4 Streets Market.

Evening falls on the street where we live.

Evening falls on the street where we live.

Greenbank House. The centre of Slave Trade Abolition in Liverpool. And where the great Eleanor Rathbone grew up.

Greenbank House. The centre of Slave Trade Abolition in Liverpool. And where the great Eleanor Rathbone grew up.

Canning Street, where I started working in housing. The most beautiful terraced street on earth.

Canning Street, where I started working in housing. The most beautiful terraced street on earth.

Huskisson Street, the next most beautiful terraced street on earth.

Huskisson Street, the next most beautiful terraced street on earth.

Our cathedrals from across the river.

Our cathedrals from across the river.

The river that created the city.

The river that created the city.

The Dee Estuary, our Shining Shore.

The Dee Estuary, our Shining Shore.

Granby 4 Streets in Liverpool 8. Late summer in Beaconsfield Street.

Granby 4 Streets in Liverpool 8. Late summer in Beaconsfield Street.

The Cathedral and Gambier Terrace from Huskisson Street.

The Cathedral and Gambier Terrace from Huskisson Street.

Bold Street. The centre of independent Liverpool.

Bold Street. The centre of independent Liverpool.

St George's Hall and the buses to the north of the city.

St George’s Hall and the buses to the north of the city.

The lake in Stanley Park.

The lake in Stanley Park.

What remains of Netherfield Heights, where I began working in housing in the early 1970s.

What remains of Netherfield Heights, where I began working in housing in the early 1970s.

Everton Park, where the tower blocks once were.

Everton Park, where the tower blocks once were.

What remains of the city's great tenement blocks. St Andrew's Gardens, in front of the Catholic Cathedral.

What remains of the city’s great tenement blocks. St Andrew’s Gardens, in front of the Catholic Cathedral.

Where Otterspool House stood in the slavery days.

Where Otterspool House stood in the slavery days.

Nearly home, the great bridges.

Nearly home, the great bridges.

Rock Savage chemical works in the evening light.

Rock Savage chemical works in the evening light.

At the end of the rainbow. Our museum and our glorious library.

At the end of the rainbow. Our museum and our glorious library.

My place. It defines me.

5 thoughts on “On being defined by your place

  1. stan cotter

    The now dilapidated building at the Princes Stage Ron was once the ticket office for vehicles
    to the Isle of Man. Oh happy days, long gone now.

    Reply

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