
Archive for the ‘pictures’ Category
Mugabe
Sunday 1st March, 2009Fragment
Sunday 21st December, 2008
Schadenfreude for the unemployed
Thursday 27th November, 2008
Requiem
Friday 12th September, 2008
Nerd Joy
Sunday 18th May, 2008How to stay sane in West London
Wednesday 2nd April, 2008I’d like you to meet my new cellmate, Mr Chauncey Rapscallion. I found him lying facedown, half drunk behind the radiator. He says he likes it there, that the fluff is comfy and the heat stops him thinking about crows. He’s going to keep me company during the rest of my sentence. Tomorrow night we’re having a Canasta and sock-folding party. Come.

Final Fantasy at The Forum
Saturday 1st March, 2008Portraits
Saturday 24th November, 2007The box. The box is a metaphor in itself. It doesn’t exist in any tangible sense, but oh, what a metaphor. What a cliché. Open the cliché and BANG.
There it is.
The past preserved – buried, successfully forgotten about. Hermetically sealed scents and sounds of years ago, an album of feelings locked away because they were so damn heavy. They were so raw, so sore.
We look so young. You look so beautiful, so little different I realise now, after all this time spent forgetting. You cover your mouth in nearly every photo, but your eyes are always staring at me. Into me. They stare and do not blink. I look thinner, more stupid maybe. There’s a simpleness to the way I glance at the world that I can’t place, as if I’ve seen none of it before. We really do look so young. I can see something burning behind my eyes. There’s an urgency, like a heartbeat, heavy and furious beneath bones afraid to contain it. Something that isn’t there anymore. It’s in every picture, making me look different – expressions on my face I’m somehow not used to seeing in the mirror. And then I see it – the simpleness that burns, and why. Why I no longer see it reflected at bath time, in puddles when it rains or on tube journeys by myself.
Love. I am completely burning inside with love for you. I am on fire in every image I see. In every single photograph I see it and I remember.
This is the box I shut away and buried – forgot it even existed – so I could never remember again.
Post Halloween Blues
Saturday 10th November, 2007
Hallo. I’m Maureen, the mildly despondent pumpkin. I have seasonal affective disorder. Have pity on me.















