It's love back to front and no sides

Today is fathers' day.
A day to show your appreciation for that special patriarchal figure in your life.
Hmm let's see...well, I'm in the home of the two people closest to any sort of male role model I can conjure, if that counts? Though, of course, they are not here. Instead we are left to potter around rooms where everything has a place, everything is immaculately clean and, to be honest, it looks like no-one's lived in for a while, alone. I feel like I'm walking round a show house rather than someone's home.

I should really explain that the reason I am here is to animal-sit. The boys had to flight off to Cypress unexpectedly last week after the news that Nick's mum had had a stroke and was in hospital. So I'm now in charge of five chickens, four rabbits and one very fluffy cat who all need feeding, a chance to run about and lots of attention. So far so good.

I'm now sat on their olive green sofa, scribbling into my notebook and watching kerrang. My mum is working away at something or other in the conservatory; all I hear from her is the light slap of books being added to piles and the occasional cuss word. Despite my earlier comments I am enjoying my time here. It feels a bit like I'm on holiday, in a strange sort of way. Same thing different place.

I've been thinking alot about the future recently. Life's a funny thing isn't it? Just when you think you've got it all sewn up and you know exactly where you're headed, something comes along to throw a spanner in the works. This is not necessarily a bad thing, and is really quite exciting, yet still I can't say I'm totally happy with it. My problem is that I have this inbuilt need to always be in control. I want to do it all. But I want to do it my way. It's hard for me to accept that certain things in life are simply out of my hands. I need to stop overthinking things and maybe start taking some risks.

So this is my fathers' day. Sat watching aging rock stars gyrate around, eating doritos and waffling on about meaningless tripe. I wonder how other people are spending today. I must admit I have a sort of stereotypical, hallmark card type image of these sort of occasions stuck in my head that obviously stems from the fact that I have nothing of my own to act as a reference. So these things pose a slight mystery to me. Even mothers' day has never been what I think of as the 'traditional' sort of day in our family. But maybe every family is different and has there own ways of appreciating each other. I dunno. The people who are important to me know it. And I don't need a scheduled date of the year to force me to show it.

Ah David Bowie's 'Jean Genie' is playing. I owe David Bowie alot. If it wasn't for that man I would never have been born.
Fuck what a thought.

I spoke the words but never gave a thought to what they all could mean

I still don't have any pictures to post.
This is partly because I have been a combination of total lazy arse and crazy busy for the last few days.
But mainly because my funds are rapidly depleting and, since I am insisting on being 'authentic' and using film cameras, this means no picture developments as of yet. I'm planning to go get the first roll from my Diana developed tomorrow and pray there'll be at least one useable shot amongst the mess.

I am sick of people phoning up wanting to book the centre being so damn indecisive!

I'm going through what I like to call a 'creative tsunami' at the moment. The literal opposite of a 'creative drought'. In case you hadn't already figured that out for yourself. There's no problem of lack of ideas here. Only problem is my perfectionist nature and the fact that, in my head, everything looks so professional and polished. The fact that I'm using a film camera may be my (and my poor models') saving grace. If I was using a digital I'd be there for hours trying to get every little detail right, constantly picking out imaginary flaws. But as I won't know how they've come out til they're developed I'll just have to deal with it. That wonderful nugget of added excitement and mystery.

New Florence & the Machine track on the radio. Mix 96 you have redeemed yourself!

I need to buy some film. I know I can't really afford it but I need something to fill the empty voids that lurk between sleeps these days. My weekend will be no doubt spend wandering around looking for dead animals to photograph and desperately scribbling in my tatty old school notebook.

Once again an incredibly banal blog entry. Hopefully I'll have pictures to share soon so this meaningless drivel can cease.

You're a demon I can't face down

I have to confess that, for my sins, I am unwittingly becoming increasingly addicted to this year's Big Brother. No matter how hard I try to resist, be a bigger person, not get involved - I just can't. And then I feel almost guilty for watching it. And even more so for enjoying it!

I can try and be all pretentious and say that I only watch it for the social experiment elements and to learn about the human psyche but the truth is: it's really nothing more than shameless voyeurism. Every Big Brother fan in the land is a secret peeping tom. A curtain twitcher. A stalker.

I guess we just live in an incredibly voyeuristic society today. Everyone is so fascinated, almost to the point of obsession, by the ins and outs of other peoples' lives. You can't open a magazine, read a newspaper or turn on the tv without being bombarded by the newest sordid scandal uncovered by the paparazzi on whoever's currently top of their hit list. Why should we care where they went for dinner? Do we really need to know how much she weighs? Course we bloody well don't! But this is the age of information overload. We're so inundated by tabloid drivel, gossip and so-called 'exclusive information' that there's no mystery to anything anymore. And we can't get enough of it. Seeing some gorgeous superstar looking less than her best makes the rest of us normal people feel great. We use other peoples' lives to escape our own.

But is this a totally bad thing? I don't know. I've just rambled on with seemingly no point to this post.

On a lighter note, it's refreshing to know that you are never too old to relish the childish pleasure that comes from bubble wrap popping.

How I wish it was forever you would hold us

Fuck, it's amazing the things you can learn from an old box of sentiments found in the garage.

I can't believe I never realised how into photography my father was. Albeit a large proportion of the pics in said box are of my mother caught unawares in slightly embarrassing situations but there are actually some really good shots in there. I never knew so many of the places from my childhood could look so beautiful and artsy. Wow.

Just another random trait I seem to have inherited from my folks. It's almost as if I have no choice with certain things, that they've already been genetically predetermined for me or something. Whatever the reason behind it, I like being able to feel that connection.

First posts first...

Have absolutely no idea why I signed up to this. I have no clue what to write here...I guess this thing will just be full up with random shots I've taken of my life and various rambles I've decided to spare my friends from.

Yeah, so take a look at whatever I put up here.

Fuck knows, I hate most of it the minute it's done.
Whatever.

Peace.