I can't be certain, but it must have been around 1967. I had been to the Central Library - which, at the time, was perversely located about a mile from the centre of Halifax - and I was walking back to the bus station, down Hanson Lane. I had my camera with me (which was … Continue reading A Fire In Halifax
Category: Scanned Negatives
Where?
If you ask me where I come from, I will say Halifax: even though I was not born in the town. For the first five years of my life, I lived far away in Bradford, and we only moved across the border when I was five. Even though I wasn't born in the town, and … Continue reading Where?
The Arts Tower Is Long, Life Is Short
My calendar today shows a scene I am very familiar with as it was taken from the front window of the house I lived in forty years ago. Some of the Photoshopping may be new, but the photograph, the moodiness, the compelling shapeliness of the scene, all date back to my time living in Oxford … Continue reading The Arts Tower Is Long, Life Is Short
AI Over Halifax
Artificial Intelligence (AI) colouring programmes are all the rage at the moment, and can be quite successful when it comes to adding yellow sands and blue skies to an old snap of Blackpool, or even a bit of colour to the cheeks of your Great Aunt Maude. The real test, however, is asking the AI … Continue reading AI Over Halifax
Rambling Along Neural Pathways
I was lying in bed last night thinking, the way one does, about neural pathways. I can't be sure that is the correct name for the strange threads that connect memories together, but if it isn't, it will do until a better one comes along. Like country pathways, they tend to avoid straight lines, and … Continue reading Rambling Along Neural Pathways
Boot-Caking, Door-Clogging, Welly-Wetting Snow
In my mind's eye there was always snow in winter when I was younger. That same mind's eye observed week after week of uninterrupted sunshine during each summer. It is, of course, all nonsense: if your mind has an eye at all it is equipped with about as much memory as a Sinclair ZX80 computer. … Continue reading Boot-Caking, Door-Clogging, Welly-Wetting Snow
Wet
A wet day in Brighouse, fifty-four years ago. Full of memories - donkey jackets, mini cars and Timothy Whites chemist. More resonant in these difficult times, memories of crowded pavements and social interaction.
Shape
Sometime, all you need is a shape. Detail is superfluous when outlines tell a story. This is my mother, Gladys, fifty-five years ago. I probably mis-judged the back-lighting, but I like to think that I was concerned only with capturing a shape.
The Trouble With Filters
The trouble with filters is that they are addictive; they should carry some kind of Government health warning. Once you have painted the sky orange and the sea green, there is no stopping you - you become as incautious with your colour palette as a Government Minister with PPE contracts. I have spent the weekend … Continue reading The Trouble With Filters
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