A day comes, even in these climate mess years of the long cold springs, when all is still and blue and you need to be out in it. Walking along, well me anyway, singing the long loved Lotus Eaters ode to springtime as I leave the house:
‘It’s warm in and out
The call for sacred hours…’
Everything ditched, all work left behind, you can’t get this day back tomorrow when the winds and clouds might be back.
Good news on the fence of The Mystery, the secret way between Smithdown and the railway tracks then out along Lawrence Road with the girls and infants at the Church of St Bridget. Continue reading “It’s Warm In and Out”
Though I’ve published thousands of photographs on this blog over the past six years I’ve never done anything so formal as to go on a course about photography. Until today. This being the first course I’ve been on in years. And these photographs being the result.
The course was called “Street Photography” and was run by my friend Jane MacNeil and fellow street photographer Matt Hart. Good it was too, even if I spent most of the day well out of the comfort zone of my usual ways of taking photographs. The point of what a group of nine of us spent the day doing was to photograph life out around the streets of town, meaning people, in as natural a way as we could, without particularly interfering in what was going on.
I found this hard and I’ve deleted many more photographs than I’ve published here. But then it was a course and I’d gone on it deliberately to learn from people who are much better at people photography, on the streets, than I suspect I’ll ever be.
So here are the best of my photographs from my Street Photography day. By no means perfect, I’ve been out learning. But carrying a definite sense of place and very much a portrait of one sunny Saturday in March 2018, in Liverpool city centre, my home.
Thanks to Jane and Matt for the generous teaching, and of course to everyone in the photos. Here we are, in our place.
Continue reading “In Liverpool: Street Photography”
Since resuming my interrupted practice of walking around Liverpool last weekend, published on here as two linked posts called ‘Emerging from Winter’ I’ve continued to walk. Back into Winter as it’s turned out, but into the gathering light of what feels like brighter days to come. The brighter days of soon coming spring time of course and, well, brighter days.
Like the days of good light these have been this week. Good, sharp, clear days to look up into and walk around in thinking about what’s next? What new things will get made up soon, what ideas are yet to be thought of, yet to be walked into being? Continue reading “Walking Into the Light”
The second of two linked posts, walking round the neighbourhoods where I live. Part One here.
This Sunday in late February arrives just as blue and just as cold as yesterday. Perfect then for another day of trying to walk my cold off around the streets of the neighbourhood. Starting by walking across to The Mystery, like yesterday, but after that who knows?
Under the London-line railway bridges and along to the Ullet Road/Smithdown crossroads. Past social venues old and new including a personal favourite, Naked Lunch. A co-op café and if there’s a friendlier place in Liverpool I don’t know it yet. Continue reading “Emerging from Winter/Part Two”
The first of two linked posts, walking round the neighbourhoods where I live. Part Two here.
I haven’t done this for ages. Come out from the house on a bright blue day and let my camera take me for a walk. Making no plans about where I’ll go, I’ll see where my feet and my camera take me.
Across Grant Avenue and into The Mystery first. The great big sloping field close to our house. Emerging from the terraced streets into the open blue sky on a cold late winter’s day. Continue reading “Emerging from Winter/Part One”
‘There are times I think I would gladly die for a glimpse of sky’
Or at least that how the song goes in my memory. I also think it was written by Judy Collins. And though neither of these memories turns out to be true it’s Judy Collins who’s singing the song in my head, having added the word ‘glimpse’ to Stephen Sondheim’s original lyrics, while I work on Sarah’s allotment in Liverpool this afternoon.
The sky is the great gift we get for spending a lot of our time outdoors. You get on with whatever it is you’re doing, and on this afternoon that has meant a lot of digging and looking at the soil, then when you look up there’s the sky, different every time. Continue reading “A Glimpse of Sky”
‘On a dark and winter’s day walking round Port Sunlight
Half factory, half village, all about us in the gentle rain
A day of talking quietly, unfolding curiosity
Together like our early days, out finding a sense of place.’
‘Together on my birthday, out finding a sense of place.’
Continue reading “Walking Round Port Sunlight”
Who wouldn’t want to walk along Huskisson Street in the morning?
There’s always somewhere to get to isn’t there? Always something filling up your mind with the things to do when you arrive at wherever? What hardly ever happens in the middle of all this getting on is the quiet voice. You may know it? The wise and caring voice inside your head that says:
‘You know that ‘present moment’ consciousness thing where life happens? Well you might want to take a look at this one, right here and right now?’
Well this morning I heard the voice. While I was sitting on the 86 bus going into town. What it said was this:
‘It’s not raining and you’ve got time.’
Continue reading “On Huskisson Street in the Morning”
As the peace arrives, letting go
And the silence waits, letting go
There is nothing left to do now but let go.
Put the work away, letting go
One more thing away, letting go
There is nothing more to do now but let go.
Continue reading “Letting Go: A Quiet Breath”