easy does it

Just as I'm running out of patience and wondering what I have done with the spool of string that will take me back, here come my little collection of brown bottles, laughing away and patting me on the shoulder, as if to tell me to just put the lid on it.

territoire

server

I have just signed in for one year of web hosting with some dodgy american company, and I have a domain name,  to try and not feel a fraud when I say I am a photographer. I just have no idea how I will get from here to there but I'm pretty good as an electrician (if it goes in somewhere, it has to come out somewhere... brown wire , blue wire, yellow and green, it's all a big circle). let's hope I will be able to go from linear to binary without much damage. 

Atropa Belladonna

Holidays

tète

 track-list for the day:

 Bloodstain- Unkle  listen

 Sometimes I feel like a motherless child- Clarence Smith listen

 Live my life with you-Corinna Joseph listen

 Kill 100- X-Press 2 feat Rob Harvey listen

 100%- Sonic Youth listen

Lords of Hawthorn

I'm on the steps.

tell tale

I'm trying to remember where the front door is. while listening to a Black Dog mix. or may be I'll stay in the shed. look, look, look again.

Particulars of shares

slow motion

 The other night, a friend was telling me how she had been inspired by a dead mining town in America, and we agreed that anything decaying and derelict held much  drama and grace. Andrew Moore Detroit Disassembled is a perfect example of how powerful an image abandonment can create. I grew up in a street perpendicular to the rue Lavoisier (Chemist 1743-1794) and his discovery that matter may change its form and shape but its mass remain the same, abbreviated in the famous statement that" nothing is created, nothing is destroyed, everything is transformed", has become my motto. I remember discovering photographs of abandoned cars in America and Cuba, their carcasses devoured by vegetation and feel a shiver ran down my spine, and the terrible scenes of Jan Saudek end of the world imagination whose poster hang on my wall for most of my teenage years, were the ticket to  the world of adulthood, so much more than the glossy cover of Photo and Zoom magazine  that my father used to buy. Those dark and dusty scenes always had more appeal to me than Andy Warhol's Campbell Soup Cans even-thought the two are intrinsically linked. I am still lusting after that aluminium foil tape so.