North-West England. black/white pics mostly, though not averse to colour. strictly amateur. tried 'serious' photography for the first time in 1993 as a mature student and loved it. a good camera and a darkroom was like another world. wish i'd had more opportunities to do it since. maybe a digital camera on the horizon, more likely a good 2nd hand Pentax tho...!!! hope you like this lot anyway.
BIO
from the book of quotes from Leonard Cohen... 'It's good to sit in the fires of your own distress. It really does seem to burn a whole lot of shit away.' 'When you meet the young you've really got to put aside a lot of their bullshit because there's just a lot of stuff they don't know'. 'After a certain point i just don't remember what the emotions of the intentions of the past were'. 'A pessimist is someone who is waiting for it to rain. But i'm already soaked to the skin'. 'I imagine the guy with the title 'Great Lover' is in the same boat as a guy with the title 'Poet'. He can't get a date'. 'I don't worry about being misunderstood. I don't think that anyone can be misunderstood. I think that we are all in contact. Each person who has his eyes and heart open, is in contact with the deepest part of every other person'. 'One of the Indian poets said, 'The river of desire has only one bank, once you throw yourself into it you can't swim for the other side.'
Comments (2)
Naichan
I like the book title. It's hard to beat relaxing with a good book. The presence of the foot baffles me, though. Is it a cunning literary reference ot merely whimsy? :-)
broken_lenz
the two 'Bukowski' pics i've uploaded were taken to go on my blog along with the poem below...explains it all really... Broken Bits... Today, i was having my lunchtime In the gardens, as usual. After i've eaten, i have this habit Of snapping the fallen twigs that lie all around me. As i sat, barefoot (only in the summer, obviously...), Smoking, with the mp3 player blasting away, Reading CB, usually, or nothing at all... It occurred to me, as i took a twig, Halved by my almighty strength, And flicked nonchalantly towards a passing pigeon, That there are broken bits of me All over the place. Places where i've left a piece of myself, Shaken loose by the howling wind of fate, Fallen from the tree of experience, Bruised by life.