Noir Magazine - Conceptual mazine and masthead design.
I must apologise for the lack of content here recently. As a design student now in my second year of my course (part time) I am pretty busy with homework a lot of the time. I hope to have a range of different tutorials up over the coming weeks though.
Not to mention photos and assignment pictures.
*** The above assignment features photography by yours truly. The image is one I took of up and coming singer, Katie Weston.
Christmas at Casa de Mrs E was an understated yet frustrating affair. Christmas decorations were broken. Cooking was started almost two hours late (around the time we were supposed to be eating) due to the inclement weather and cold, cold wind smothering the heat beads in the spit roast (which really pissed Mr Husband off as the cooking is really his thing and he takes it personally when things go wrong). The kids ended up eating McDonalds for dinner. We finally ate at about 9.30pm. View full article »
Dugite - a living shadow.
“Pussy cat, pussy cat
Where have you been?”
“I’ve been to London
To visit the Queen.”
“Pussy cat, pussy cat
What did you there?”
“I frightened a little mouse
Under her chair.”
(Even when writing about my cats, I manage to get something about London in there. Obsessed. I tells ya.)
Twilight in July
Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,
The shooting stars attend thee;
And the elves also,
Whose little eyes glow
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.
No Will-o’-the-Wisp mislight thee,
Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee;
but on, on thy way,
Not making a stay,
Since ghost there’s not to affright thee.
Let not the dark thee cumber;
What though the moon does slumber?
The stars of the night
Will lend thee their light,
Like tapers clear, without number…
– Robert Herrick
The Regent’s Park, London, 2006
“More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought, and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her.” — Pride & Prejudice, chapter 33.
I’ve got to get back to the UK. I enjoyed myself so much there – and Scotland too for that matter.
More info on The Regent’s Park here.
Grasses at the estuary, Port Lonsdale.
On the 29th of this month, it will be the first anniversary of the wedding of the manbeast and I. It’s been an interesting year. Foregoing the honeymoon, we opted to use the rest of the cash left over from the wedding to put towards a new house. With a little help from Mrs E (my mum), we were able to purchase the wonderful castle we now live in. We’re still getting used to its quirks but it’s home. It’s ours. And the bank’s.
I absolutely adored London. It was big and dirty and scary. It has the Tower of London, Tower Bridge, the Churchill Museum (which I adored), the Brittish Museum (which was unfortunately filled to the brim with school kids). I loved the muffins and juice we got from the little cafe right nextdoor to the hostel we stayed in. I loved the fact that we were right across the road from Shepherds Bush station. I even adored how people got really narky when you didn’t stand to the right on the escalators but didn’t actually say anything to you until they managed to get past and then they’d only grumble and insult you under their breath. I loved being in the shadow of Big Ben. I loved walking through Regents Park even though Allison and I were trying to find London Zoo. I love how English people don’t know how to queue. London is fun.
Allison and I were busily taking pictures of York Minster (one of the biggest Gothic cathedrals this side of the Swedish Alps) when an older lady approached us. “Here we go,” thought I, thinking she might have had something to say about us and our cameras.
She did, but in a good way. She was an off-duty tourguide!
“Are you visitors?” She asks.
“Yes,” says we, the Australian and American accents giving it away immediately if the cameras and fevered snapping wasn’t already a big enough clue.
“Well, I don’t usually let people in on this but there is an excellent view of the Minster from the third floor window in Marks and Spencer!”
So, obediently, we found our way to Marks and Spencer and went to the third floor, which just happened to be the men’s clothing department. Surrounded by socks and undies, we peeked out of the little window to find an awesome view, just like the lady said.
Sitting stately amongst the rooftops of the township and bathed in warm afternoon light, there was the Minster in all it’s glory.
Last night the manbeast stopped and, while looking over at a few of my photographs, quietly said it was nice to be reminded that one doesn’t need top-notch photographic gear to get a great image. Yeah, that’s a compliment I’ll take. I happen to agree. Some of my favourite shots have been taken on a Pentax ist* DS or the manbeast’s Nikon D70s. Neither are fantastic cameras but they do the job. The above image was taken, if I remember correctly, on Steve’s Nikon D70s. I love this photograph. I love the smog, I love the dirty yellow sunset reflected off the glass, I love the flecks of light on the far-away buildings and the vibrant colours on the bridge. All caught and dealt with beautifully in appalling conditions from within a very dirty pod on the London Eye.
The old blog has gone kahpoot. This one will soon be an art/photoblog. Don’t worry, there will still be the occasional rant. Just want to get a bit of a presence out there.
