To know ahead of time what you're looking to photograph risks only photographing your own preconceptions, which is very limiting. Impulsion is a distinct gallery where those pictures that caught my eye - and just photographed 'that to which I instinctively responded', are displayed. I like to think that they're proof that some exposures shape themselves. I have never learnt the optical catechism, I refuse pictorial rules, and render what I see as I see it, spontaneously and uncompromising.

    AUTUMN - 10.2008
Autumn colours become the thing of dreams and memories. Swathes of woodland dressed in autumn colours are the usual image we have. In contrast to convention how effortless this single tree conforms to seasonal demands. Its isolation seems a privilege, or is it not alone the cropping deceiving the spectators?

At Lower Coscombe to Stumps Cross the hill climbs steeply. A rider gathers a reticent horse, returning downhill with the animal resisting progress. It's 10.22 on a cloudy Bank Holiday and rain looks promising, and I capture the moment. Then drink coffee carried in my pack and continue my walk.

    FROZEN CONTOURS - 02.2009
The sun shone brightly on a cold February morning. An impetuous walk along a swollen river Avon, Worcestershire provided an opportunity to experience crisp, chilly air and listen to geese far across the flooded fields. Puddles lay between tractor tracks their frozen surfaces shining in the sunlight, and occasional footsteps pierced nature's glass the sound of cracking breaking winter's silence.

    PILADE OUT - 02.2009
Discovering these stacked plastic horticultural trays some marked with ownership seemed to mimic human life and frailties, architectural calamities, and economic recession. A disused, dilapidated, overgrown wasteland resembling an abandoned city neigbourhood. Once functional and useful, now unused and discarded. Scrapped, dumped in this disposable age. Tomorrow's another day. 

The ravages of time always seem to bring out the melancholy in me. Once the pride of the farm, but now a gutted, rusting old workhorse this tractor is no longer loved and admired.

My eyes were drawn to the tied bow round the bible of the Berkely family. The castle, an ancient fortress home has been lived in by the same family for over 900 years and its rich heritage is part of English history. Displayed in the 'Morning Room', once a chapel, it is probably rarely photographed amongst a host of other antiquities and architectural curiosities.

    WHITE STOCKINGS - 11.2008
A pastiche of a Jack Vettriano print was the idea I had while photographing a 1940's fashion shoot at Stanway House, Gloucestershire in the autumn of 2008. Between sessions with two pairs of models, I managed to capture the ideal pose with one of the models. The prominence of leg, stockings and shoes is the essential point. The anonymous, cropped face creates a voyeuristic feel, the spectator's eye travels round the entire picture seeking some evidence of the figure, but she remains an unknown woman.

My work done I stand hands on hips looking at the hill. Children in a field pull kites behing them, running as if point-to-pointing. When the the roar of rushing gas sounds above us the kites fall to the ground, colourful shattering bundles like shot pheasants. Their chargers stand peering skyward. Smiles erupt on little faces at the large balloon almost hovering above them. They shout. They wave. Another burst of flame. Two passengers wave from the basket. The children shout, "Hello". It floats slowly away, to land a few fields away.

   CUCUMIS MELO - 06.2009
Planetary bodies are spectacular to view when it's accepted that to capture the image some pretty serious kit has to be employed. So it was with delight that I announced to a group of friends that I had achieved a result by photographing one of Jupiter's satellites, Galia with a telescope owned by a local college. All but two friends believed me...

The realisation that all roads don't always lead to Rome leapt into my head when I formulated a reportage project: A46 Roadside Cafes. This arterial road is donkey's years old, some, if not most, must date to the Romans anyway. Until I'd studied a road atlas did I know it's route and destinations. Amazingly it runs between Bath and Grimsby. One town clearly established by the Ancient Romans, the other a fishing port. Paul and Sharron Holt are owners of the Woodchester Snax cafe in a glorious wood covered layby, twenty miles north of Bath. It is in fact the last southernmost layby eaterie on the A46. Paul and Sharron are a great couple and have owned the business for fifteen years. Highly recommended! 


Effervescence, what a great word. When I reached for a can of dry ginger I never gave the word a thought. It was only after the tab was pulled and the gas escaped did I see the boiling up of the liquid; the hiss and froth bubbling into the light from the depths of the can. For a second or more the lively, vivacious release seemed to generate vivid images. A face appeared in the bubbly fizzle. Yes it was there, prying eyes gazing up at me. Or was it my imagination?

   MOVING TARGET  - 08.2009
The sun shone. People, families and children filled the park. A glorious colourful fun fair had been set up but no one had ventured into its attractions. Ghostlike it dominated one corner of the expanse of grass. Other activities occupied everyone's attention and the prospect of new sport seemed inevitable.

  BUT IT'S ONLY A MILK BOTTLE ...  - 12.2009
Funny isn't it. You go to the fridge yank out a litre bottle of milk (plastic naturally), use, and consign what's become today a cheap food, to its place in the door shelf. Do any of us consider the carbon footprint and the effect on global warming - no. Well I'm not going to either. I think we're all getting a little too much carbon-lunacy thrust at us. What I did the other day was to finish the contents and proceeded to pulverise the container. Twisting it like a piece of old rag it fell from my grasp landing on the floor at my feet. Instantly I grabbed my camera and 'click' it was recorded. It has now become a celeb, because after uploading it to my favourite photographic stock site it has been used over and over again, bought as a print, and now saved by a mad collector in the US. It only goes to show anything, especially the things you never think of, can become an iconic image - and you'll never understand why... 

We decided to walk the Cotswold hills around Winchcombe on the gloriously sunny, cold new year day 1st of January 2010. A hard frost covered the ground and trees, demanding further investigation; we donned our boots and winter gear and set out. Our walk aimed at finding the Roman villa in Spoonley Wood and our objective was reached after a rest alongside a stream to drink hot coffee. Under a simple cover we exposed a magnificent mosaic, dirty from years of neglect yet still retaining its magnificent quality and beauty. The villa remains are the largest in the neighbourhood. It's one that ranks among the most important Roman houses in England; its large granary measures 54x34 feet and is constructed like a church with naves and aisles, called a 'courtyard villa' it was probably built in the 2nd century and continued to the 4th century; Spoonley Wood villa is often cited as the classic example of this type of building as it was the first to be discovered, being excavated in the late-1880's. Mentioned in Bill Bryson’s Notes From a Small Island. “On a hill above Winchcombe, you see, there is a little-visited site so singular and wonderful that I hesitate even to mention it.” Hesitatingly however, I do commend the site for a visit.


The Teddington Hands signpost, dated 1676 which stands by the side of the main Cheltenham to Evesham road, A435 near the Teddington Hands roundabout is close to the Tibblestone monolith, a stone column dating from the prehistoric times. The juxtaposition of both cannot be a coincidence. Man, ancient, past and present have used this route for milleniar and I guess will do so for many more.

  ROSIE LEE   -   02/2010

The wonderful reflective properties of stainless steel has captured the moment when a lady and tea are to become united. I'm amused by Cockney rhyming slang hence the title, 'Rosie Lee'. In this vein you may not Adam and Eve it when your Mince Pies don't see how the photograph was taken. There she is, her Boat Race facing the teapot, hand outstretched, but Butcher's Hook again and I dare say you'll not see a camera.

  SHAMELESS WASTE   -   03/2010

Today's habitual and anti-social process of dropping litter has serious result on the environment. In my opinion most people are not doing enough to halt the continuing habit to just discard rubbish not in a bin but just where they stand. This threepence deposit-worth bottle top did little to influence the owner to return the bottle and top way back in about 1970 or earlier. The inducement from manufacturers stopped hastened no doubt from nobody interested in a perfectly worthy process - we're all paying for it now.


  NO PARKING   -   04/2010

I came across this scene once I'd turned a corner. If I'd been a traffic warden the urge to slap a ticket on the vehicle would have been too great to ignore. Clearly the vehicle's driver was taking a rest. The passenger was ungoing some personal difficulties herself, a deal of trouble with communicating exactly what she wanted; making not an impression upon the driver whatsoever. His praying stance was, I guess his link to his god in case a warden did emerge. Would it have made a difference? I abandoned the thought to stay.

  TUTELAGE   -   04/2010

True guardianship can be seen in Venice. Magnificent buildings, artifacts and art, language and culture merge to unite into a glorious amalgamation of colour and sounds: a city unique by its position, aquatic reliance and timbre. I can never tire of its vibrancy and sparkling enthusiasm for life. The population adore their heritage and protect the city's fabric in an Italian way. My wife and I return regularly in April when the massive crowds have yet to arrive to see old aquaintenances, eat at Harry's Bar (a must) and soak up the Venitian delights; photographically its elegance, grandeur and the shabby-chicness belies all posibilities of artistic interpretation so I never attempt to do anything more than reportage. 

  FORBIDDEN  -  06/2010
A visit to Stonehenge two days after the summer solstice was interesting not because the place had visitors from around the world, but it signifies the authority's (English Heritage) view on the separation of the public from the stones that form the site's attraction. EH must believe they are quite in order to marshal all visitors to within a mere 80 metres of the prehistoric sarsen stones. How some younger people would have benefitted from running between the exceptional monument. I'm old enough to have experienced as a late teenager the heady 1960's. Together with friends we arrived at Stonehenge in 1965 and were able to wander amongst the structure hugging stones and without another living soul in sight. It was no more difficult as it is to walk to Belus Knap and enjoy its essence alone and silently. Progress is not always for the better... Let's face it Stonehenge has suffered much more from past generations than the current band of admirers who aren't exactly going to demolish the place. C'mon English Heritage lighten up. Thanks be to God you don't manage all the British cathedrals.

  LOVELY HAT  -  08/2010
Early in the morning after a evening full of events and a magnificent Edinburgh Tattoo had played its way out of the Esplanade for one more time, I walked up the Royal Mile, hub of the Fringe shows marketing, eerily silent at 8 am and spied an improvement to the street's statue of Scottish philosopher, David Hume. He was sporting a jaunty yellow traffic cone. Within minutes the police had arrived and removed it; those boys in blue north of the border certainly move fast. And silently as well...

I came across this road while searching for quite another one completely and just couldn't believe how this once long street had been a smart, distinguished suburb. The Victorians established its fine small terraced villas and the neighbourhood had a fine large church a few yards away. Today it's been sliced away. Behind the wall is a factory-looking building. What it houses I've no idea for the road was gobbled up to build a school - the 'factory' is probably the gymnasium or something similar. On this occasion the sky's colour is expressive, the light diminishing and the picture appears like a bizzarre stage backdrop - very unreal.

What is it about miniature things that makes folk interested and even obsessed. In some cases reducing the size of products is a logical process. The transistor I guess started the modern world's view on the usefulness of objects that were small and easily transported and their lowering manufacturing cost. One without the other. It also appears interesting that say the crucifiction scene can be modelled upon a pin head. Or that nanotechnology can create a mechanical device that can be swallowed by a patient and it completes an appendectomy emerging seventy two hours later via the rectum. I know I lied about that one, nevertheless some pretty remarkable things do exist. Curious then that some people consider other outstanding achievements of the undersized should warrant celebration. In fact certain object should never be considered for miniaturisation; the very idea of say, a telescope the size of a match or a football pitch that was perfect and fitted neatly on your dining table would cause problems not least how a 100,000 crowd could enjoy the game...?  Image then a small house - why? My photograph comes ready for digitai manipulation like Google maps. Makes sense really.

  BEYOND  -  09/2010
This image was the result of serendipity, an unusual phenomenon where chance and opportunity meet. The original image was in fact a test frame that confirmed camera settings for future harsh monochrome photographs and where Erica was delighted to model. By chance a spectator viewed the picture and suggested manipulations to enhance it. If successful the opportunity for it to be displayed on an influential site was too much to ignore. The resulting photograph is quite a surreal image with implications of sinister overtones [it's been suggested] of deviantionism. Make of it what you wish. But to generous minded people it's a severe handling of a simple moment, but with any artwork interpretation sometimes introduces other thoughts. That's why I love photography.

   LINCOLN CATHEDRAL  -  10/2010
My journey to Lincoln was not so much a pilgrimage more a visit to immerge myself in the wonderful architecture, craftsmanship and art that fill the building. It cannot go unnoticed that the cathedral is a magnificent structure rich in wonderful coloured stone and superb design. The visitors around me were busy observing every minutia while I observed them. I admired  two elderly women sitting comfortably within the south east transept, its windows bright blue against the dim light. They whispered together. Was their conversation about their lives, husbands and children; many years perhaps as widows, partners long departed after early lives separated by war-torn Europe. They had walked to their seats from a large Services' Chapel covering the three services each separate alter bearing wreaths and messages to fallen troops past and sadly very current. The ladies formed a fitting scene and the picture captures a quiet moment of reflection. Someone recently commented on my obsession with 'people watching' saying it was not fitting, but I consider it's necessary to do it because at those moments I can take a small step into another territory and my photographs offer spectators a moment to share as well.

  SAY CHEESE  -  11/2010
I love blue cheese and stilton in particular. I adore its flavour with matzos in particular; a blend of subtle tastes worthy of replicating time after time. Sometimes (always in fact) I'll wash it down with a good red wine, but that's my penchant; a lively Rioja or fruity Burgundy. Imagine my surprise when unwrapping a wedge of beautiful stilton bought at a wonderfully successful supermarket the other day, and the image of a panda (of all animals) was clearly depicted in the gorgeous blue veining. Reports of pictures of Jesus Christ burnt onto slices of toast are renown as is crop circles of our Lord. This bamboo shoot eating Asian bear is yet another example of life's strange occurances. Not one of moulded bronze or resin, but a true case of mouldy artwork. Some things have to be believed to be seen...

SAINT-PIERRE  -  11/2010
Corks in wine bottles are fast disappearing in favour of plastic or screw-top and even cartons. What's the world coming to? An easy answer, the paradox is clear. The thinking today is recycling is better than consuming natural resources. It's pretty controversal, but as far as I'm concerned a more manageable and progressive system can do both; improve recycling and sustain natural cultivation of cork maintaining employment, aiding economy growth and develop efficient national growth. It troubles me when industrialists and politicians gather together to wipe out traditional processes and promote a green future  on the basis of better value for money yet ignore all issues in the policy to sell it to the electorate. Carbon footprint - what phooey! Why don't they realise the electorate is not stupid. At least the wine sold weekly in the UK, as long as it's over at least five pounds is providing wholesome, wine (not  increased UK duty) tasty and a good buy when linked with supermarket discount policies. I just love a good Rioja, Chianti or a Burgundy'.

Visiting Gibralter in the New Year was a wonderful escape from freezing British weather; an interval of warm sun on our backs providing pleasant thoughts and even smiles. The British dependency is steeped in history none so overwhelming as immediately after 21st October 1805. Horatio Nelson was dead and victory pronounced loudly. Casualties from the British fleet were taken to Gibralter where many died from their wounds. Near the Southport Gate is the Trafalgar Cemetary which bears witness not only to the courage of sailors and marines who died in battle, but also to the harshness of life in the past. As time marches on and generations come and go it is all to easy to overlook the fact that this rocky promontory has been a strategic military location. In today's rapid global, intercontinental age it's rate of change is as swift as ever. Not for military advantage though, but relaxed holidaymakers. Ship repairing noise and  clatter exchanged for hissing coffee machines and whizzy motor scooters. Old naval dockyards replaced with pretty marinas, vacational apartments scatttered round pleasant courtyards; their residents jogging in groups running off last night's dinner.  

  ISLES OF SCILLY - 04/2011
The Garrison gate above Hugh Town, St Mary's is a bastion built around 1742 to protect the island. Today its structure dominates the promontory west of the town. The view through the open gate of the old quay and town beach captures the beauty and peaceful nature of the location. Photographed in April before the main tourist season begins gave us the freshness of the friendly island residents. A place destined to be visited again by us. 

This pistol barrel heeled shoe with ammunition belt round the platform sole became the focus for a shot just because it was so spectacular. I've always thought ladies high heeled shoes are sculptural master-pieces, each having structural form and colour to rival the best artwork; and they're practical as well. To watch the model teetering with each step may not uphold this too well, but in all model shoots it is the shoes that command specific attention. Get it wrong and the whole ensemble fails - get it right and all is glorious. On one occasion this proved the case, the model was nude except for wonderful six inch scarlet heels. You simply cannot deprive a lady from her shoes and these pistol-packing beauties are right on target.

  I LOVE HIM BUT...  - 07/2011

The sun shone brightly as I walked into Art in Action, Oxford. I try and attend each year because it provides excellent opportunities to 'people watch'. I know I shouldn't, but with a camera in my hand it is impossible not to take some interesting shots by voyeuristic musings. I had observed this guy polish off his wife's cream raspberry waffle, any protest she had was waved away, and then proceed to wolf down his. She sat motionless staring into infinity while he stood stuffing the delicious-looking snack into his mouth. Cream from his first helping was firmly attached to his moustache and more would cling to it before he had consumed the second treat. His sole existence seemed justified to him, his raison d'être, it could be said was to save her the ignominy of suffering the weighty problem of freedom of choice. Whether she had acquiesced to his demand was not clear, it had happened so quickly and the jury is still out. Her nonchalance was perfectly reasonable given the scene, I half expected a thought balloon to appear over her head with the words, “Fat git”, then for it to disappear with a pop! Or would that be what would happen to him?

I'm forever buying books. They line up along the shelf failing to remain upright most of the time when gradually one, usually the last one placed there, gently capsizes with an abrupt slap! This invariably makes for a start, a sudden jump that electrifies me to stare at the line of books almost willing the rest to tumble. When no other book keels over or even appears to warrant attention I look away and continue what I was doing before the incident. Straight away another succumbs to fainting pitching over to join the first. I feel cheated! Undeterred I saunter over nonchalantly to the shelf to inspect the arrayed troops endeavouring not to be intimidated by what is in fact reams of paper. Returning to my desk I'm agonising over the childish behaviour just demonstrated. Leaning back in the recliner I pick up a ruler and aim it at the row of books much like a marksman. "Bang", I say recoiling the weapon and authenticating the shot. Immediately another book falls, I look at the ruler then back to the books; three wounded tomes lie motionless, the battlefield and attendant army look indestructible. The ruler is placed in a drawer. I push it home with a smack, a second later the forth book slides over very slowly and at once the others cascade in a harmonious and glorious domino effect. I turn my sights to the newspaper.

There are times when I like to create pictures with no particular reason in mind. I'll often spend half an hour or so 'playing' - sitting at the laptop to photo-manipulate images, to make new artwork with other photographer's work and naturally I credit other people. One website in particular is excellent in its approach and a link is available at the end of this paragraph for you to investigate. This photograph is called 'The One Who Got Away' for no reason only that it evokes for me a wicked sorceress collecting young girls. They're stranded, suspended in the air awaiting their fate...  L I N K

HIGH AND DRY  -  05/2012
An excursion into Wales took us to Lake Vyrnwy, Powys. For six weeks prior to our visit the rain constantly fell, grey skies were forever above the UK. Much to our surprise the weather became a little better and we, along with thousands of other folk were able to venture out for walks. The lake itself is magnificent especially the Rhiwargor valley walk with the Pistyll waterfall on route. The Llanwddyn Sculpture Park provided some excellent strolls amongst spectacular trees and the odd naturally carved wooden sculpture created by European artists. The one showcased (pictured) is a miniature Ark roughly hewn and positioned high on the banks of the river, missed by many but not by a photographer keen to capture it from water level. A place well worth a visit at any time in the year, and whatever the weather.

HALF PORTIONS  -  07/2012
An accident in the kitchen when a dish from a set of only four dishes remaining from a complete set of crockery obtained yonks ago broke. It had been cracked for ages, slung in the dishwasher and used time after time. This particular morning it simply gave up, splitting into two equal pieces. The photograph completed within five minutes was initiated from a news item. I had only been reading about UK obesity in a weekend paper where it was reported that it was growing at an alarming rate. The situation is causing massive pressure on the British National Health Service, now and I guess into the future unless something is done to curb unhealthy diets. Beside the incapacity on thousands of individuals with expanding waistlines, there is as well an amplifying amount of additional health issues like diabetes and heart problems. It bodes badly for future generations.

The London Olympics have closed with the razzmatazz expected and delivered. As a Londoner I'm pleased that the games were a success. The many young Olympians have renewed the belief that through hard toil and dedication anything is possible. The focus upon the Gold Medal winners is always the principal target for world media cameras, and this prompted me to consider the metalic element Au. Being the most ductile and malleable of all metals it offers craftsmen endless possibilities. For most of my adult life I was a silversmith regularly making items in gold too. I hung-up my apron and stored away my collection of hand tools two decades ago, but wanted to do one thing - hand-draw (pull fine wire through steel plates) gold wire exactly 100 metres in length. The same distance Usain Bolt ran to re-write the record books. I produce three 12mm dia. balls of 22ct gold each exactly the required length. The small spheres in the palm of my hand looked very small yet each represented such an icon distance. The heel of my wife's shoe crushed one easily. The goodwill, integrity and friendship of the modern Olympic movement is as delicate and requires the entire world's support to continue to maintain its legacy. Thank you London and good luck to Rio in four years time.

UNSCATHED  -  01/2013
The weather outside is bitterly cold, around 1 degree and although snow fell yesterday on top of a layer dropped some days ago, it remains defiant lingering the time for a thaw. A flower head from a disply in the hallway fell to the floor and rather than discarding it immediately I put it in a small turned bowl made from a coconut that was at hand. And being at a loose end I reached for my camera; the magnificence of digital photography came to the fore. In no more than five minutes from capturing the image, post-editing and uploading it was on the site. We would have called it magic fifty years ago.

Not quite in the spirit of this page's 'Impulsion' I know, but as I explain I've never learnt my optical catechism. Sometimes images come to my knowledge that simply entertain. The idea that they deserve inclusion is my choice, and because this artist's work is fun, amusing and altogether very inventive, it is displayed for your recreation.

This animation is Boulder Dash Emote Krissi001 is a twenty four year old German woman with skills I do not have. Her work is available to view on L I N K . Amazingly she has accumulated in eight years premium membership over 422,353 pageviews, this in itself is quite an achievement. In my way, this tribute is to herald her wonderful creative mind.

  WOOF  -  06/2013
The story goes like this. While a man was preparing to end his time in the lavatory a sudden disclosure of a written message scrollled into view on the toilet roll. A hastedly scribbled note needing help. Did it come from a hostage, or was it a joke by a worker bored and needing to inject a little humour into their hum-drum life? Clearly the product was manufactured by the company that advertises with cuddly puppies, the mystery continues and I guess will never be solved. Sometimes the unexpected can produce a smile. For one individual his parting comment to others was simply, " I should leave it a minute or two before going in". Any concern for a victim of a pack of feral puppies was not present. A hoax? Without question.

  JUST ONE LOOK  -  08/2013
I had decided to have a day out, a break from the rigours of work, a day wandering around Bristol photographing whatever turned up before me. The city is a delight. Old and new mingle harmoniously, and the weather was glorious sunshine. Within minutes of leaving the car park fresh scenes, vistas and exciting stuff sprang into view; a photographer's heaven. As usual this kind of atmosphere brings out the best in my temperament and I quickly got into conversations with shoppers and visitors, and captured smiling faces as well as slightly irritated ones wandering aimlessly down Whiteladies Road. The trip had already been fruitful. Not by the photography produced, but with the contact with many cafe proprietors, art galleries and bar owners - future photoshoot locations are assured and will be used very soon.

A short walk found me on the edge of Stokes Croft district a veritable gallery of street art, I ventured into an alleyway and discovered a modern side window of a hair dressers salon, its large image dominating the small space. Almost immediately a girl pulling a suitcase stumbled through. I had an idea. She was friendly and had no objection to posing at the window. Serendipity is a wonderful phenomenon and one I tend to rely on.

  ONE DEGREE UNDER   -    09/2013
We all at some time or other feel unwell. On many occasions it’s rarely life-threatening merely a moment when things have become too much to handle. Perhaps the weather is bad or the boss at work is getting right under your skin. Or often a feeling of unrewarded thanks from a family member when it is expected, yet never comes, you feel miserable and unwanted. Then a hug becomes a thing of beauty. A much needed object of desire. My heart goes out to anybody who does not have someone to hug them, and feel very grateful that my wonderful wife is close when I get maudlin.

A well laid table is a joy to behold. Fine linen, superbly crafted cutlery and hand-blown glass make for a banquet. On this occasion things are different. Many million throughout the world never regularly eat on a daily basis, and many more get by on what we in prosperous democracy throw away because the sell by date is old; a salient fact for us all. The other day I did something I’ve never done before, I photographed a meal that was to be consumed: baked beans. A casual bachelor-strewn table fostered a nonchalant feel although in truth I spent an awful lot of time positioning every mat and fork... Food of course is important to everyone, and a friend always dignifies Lent by going without his favourite stuff and makes generous donations to Christian collections especially for the starving generations around the globe. For me, a humanist I chuck coinage and folding wonga into collecting tins all year round. We should always be thankful we don’t live in a war-torn or poor country like so many do.

A tipple once in a while can be an excellent thing. Strange then when you read of more and more Britains, mainly young, adoring binge-drinking at weekends. Never appreciating the liquor for its fine and extensive manufacture, but just to pour masses of litres down their teenage mouths. Falling over, vomiting in the gutters of beleagued ancient towns and cities is now the norm. Can it be possible that the police who clean up the flotsam each week would rather undertake this task than solve and even prevent crime? Just how the British society cope with this and other ennui year after year is for our law makers to solve. What is important I feel is the necessity for human beings to consider that consuming excessive amounts of alcohol is good. Only an idiot would choose to do so given the choice. But I suppose the 'victims' would argue differently, "What about my human rights", they would shout. Fine, but why do they expect others to take care of them - mindless, selfish and annoying sots. The answer is clear. Always check the levels of anything drunk or eaten. It's always the levels to watch.

We live in a world that appears to be confused. European, USA, Asia and other far-flung places strive to compete economically yet never quite quit the automobile. That is, the ones that require an internal combustion, petrol or diesel engine. Manufacturers chivvy along with electric cars, hybrid vehicles to appease government and the cohort of liberal minded do-gooders pushing their 'green' issues. Yet conventional vehicles are still preferred and remain the first choice for most people. That's why they're made in huge quantities. I am tired of being treated as a Luddite, I am a free thinking, tax paying citizen sticking to principals that others like me adhere to regardless of a minority of nutters. I am a 'petrol head'. I like cars, and I prefer them to be able to provide oodles of power that propels them quicker than ordinary cars, between A and B. Noise, squeal of rubber and heat give me a sense of being. Not for me membership of silent, harmless, slow transportation club, herds of amicable, easily lead individuals hell bent on being good. Until I read absolute proof that Man is the creator of global warming, I will continue to rack up endless miles of petrol guzzling journeys, driving my Subaru Impreza STI Spec C import. Our space craft is entering yet another phase of its long life. We don't know enough of its workings to control it, so how can we expect to pronounce judgement on its condition? Politicians simply tax us more. The world hasn't gone mad just the bloody passengers. The photo shows my Scooby undergoing the installation of a stage 1 handling package. The 340 bhp power train will now harness with the additional kit and bring added driving pleasure. Call me what you like - I can't hear you.

More than a fifth of British and American adults are obese, but gym membership stays high. We get fat or we work the fat off. But we can't seem to stop eating. It is my opinion that the USA is the creator of the fast food and gloriously laden fat and sugared processed meals, migrating year on year across oceans filtering over vast continents, a Yankie scouge a plague created in the 'Land of the Free'. It is devastating foreign cultures hand-in-hand with Hollywoodian films, gridiron politics, and bland TV incursions: why? Are all American inventions and interventions good?  Britain: we, the middle classes, dress up our gluttony as refinement: we are not gluttons, but gourmets. Choice is the byword of modern glutton. I have observed over the past forty years the ever-increasing portion sizes. What would have fed a family of four in 1948 is now a single portion. Future generations will look back at us, across the seas empty of fish and the rainforests razed to make way for yet more cattle, ask what happened to the earth and say: "They ate it." I like films with English subtitles, BBC documentaries, old shire hustings and healthy organic food well cooked shared with friends and family. Oh, and belated Sunday trading restrictions. A British Sunday was special unlike the other days of the week. Progress today seems to follow easy options. Anything that demands precision and care is not appreciated. Speed, ease, solitude, computerism and a shrug of the shoulders is all okay. Can it last?

Celebrations are always exciting. Anticipation is electric, hopes on tenterhooks and expectation high. For recipiants of birthdays, anniversaries and individual achievements there is the kudos of being singled out to receive a round of applause and gifts. All is carefully tailored to adhere to a financial levels of the givers and receivers. I guess on occasions this rule is broken and where a sumptuous gift is received beyond all expectation. A sailing yacht is here bedecked with celebratory balloons. The recipiant unawhere, the guests hidden from view ready to spring into view.

  COLOURED CHAIRS  -  08/2014
Parks, stately gardens and beautiful estates have umpteen visitors every year, all older people prefer to sit and take in the grandeur and vistas. The staff at a wonderful set of renewed landscaped grounds brought back to its original plans by Capability Brown are keen to provide seating. These deckchairs are a colourful group awaiting the visitors.

  THE DANCER  -  08/2014
I have to own up straight away and say that I did not take this photograph or produced the gif. The essence of this gallery is the stumbling over the existence of superb imagery, and when I sourced this the fact that the rhythm also seems to suit most music. Just how this is achieved is totally beyond me. Rock, ballard, folk, jazz, whatever is playing when watching the girl girate is somehow magically brilliant. As I post it Chet Atkins and 'See You In My Dreams' is playing - yet another one timed... Spooky!

  SCOOTER HIGH  -  02/2015
Wandering along Swindon Road in Cheltenham the other day this scooter hanging over the entrance to a repair shop caught my eye, well it would don't you think. A vehicle perfect for higher purchase. Either it served as a advertising sign or the garage owner has a bad debt and was ensuring the scooter owner could never retrieve his bike without first paying the bill. Yeah I know that's far fetched, but what else could be said? I will say however that tramping around the back streets of anywhere always has some wonderfully bizarre sights - that's the photographer in me because I certainly wouldn't do it without a camera.

  SOPPY, SOAPY EGG  -  02/2015
Now I'm aware of the hours of fun children get from messing around with water and washing up liquid. But a grown man doing stuff? It would have even the wildest kid rolling their eyes skyward and tutting loudly. Perhaps it would be because he had commandeered the sink just a bit too long, or that the kids had tired of 'thumbing' iPhones for endless hours and having now peaked they wanted childish games like of old. They never stood a chance. I was experimenting with foam and egg. And why not! My phoned had chirruped, whistled, ta,ta'd, and chimed and now needed answering. One message text was from my eight year old grandaughter...

  SMASHED GLASS  -  06/2015
Accidents happen all the time rarely does the result have such an impact as a neighbour's broken patio glass door. Exactly how the break occurred is still a mystery, but the effect is quite beautiful. Thousands of fractures and splits surrounding the central point of impact cause the light to fragment across the whole pane. An art form it certainly is and this shot captures the veil of light strokes ahead of the view of the lawn and flowers out of focus yet providing a vibrant flash of colour. It remains until the glazier returns with a replacement panel. A camera is altogether a constant deliverer of wonderful elegance.

  EROTIC NOVELS  -  09/2015
I like erotic books. Their existence is due to all manner of people, males and females wanting escapism. A release from tedium and even lacklustre bed fellows. Since time began, men and women needed sexual writing and erotic imagery to arouse and quench high levels of libido. Developing societies became expert in this field. Ancient Rome demanded nothing but high porn to match its social activities yet by the Victorian period Methodist preaching ruled out all public awareness. Behind closed doors however nothing changed. A friend's 19th century postcard collection reveals some amazingly descriptive pornographic photographs adored by the middle and upper classes. Laws cover every area of pornography but demand for sexy writing remains the publisher's dream.  Nothing ever changes. A bit of flesh especially the parts normally covered by clothing are leered over all round the world. Where paperback books prevail the covers needs to snatch the buyer's eye, different pictures for each of the sexes. My excursion into this world seemed impossible until deciding to tempt an agent's eye. Much to my chagrin this image was considered too much. Yes, can you believe it. Amongst the hundreds of images out in the wide world depicting genitalia or worse, this suggestive submission failed. Perhaps it was the text covering the vulva that did for it?

  BREAKFAST FRUIT  -  01/2016
To start a day without breakfast would not do for me. I am not a complete healthy food freak, but I do consider fatty, sugary and processed food to be quite noxious. For me a good fry up is a meal to be had on a lazy Sunday morning and not every week - occasionally is fine. A similar strategy is the basis of my personal food regime, that eating everything in moderation and in small portions is the way forward. My mantra is 'eat to live', not live to eat. I believe it sustains a good libido amongst other welfare advantages.

Reading the other day in a popular newspaper that in the world of sex and intimate relationships the inclusion of food into foreplay and intercourse is on the up. Lovers are discovering the benefits of racey manoeuvres with food can improve the whole thing. Nothing new here I wagered. Back in the sixties the Rolling Stones made the headlines along with Marion Faithful and a Mars bar. The way other menu delights are growing with imagination must have found favour and must bring enormous satisfaction. Wow, the mind boggles. I am not at liberty to disclose any personal preferrences preferring to leave you with no idea of my private inner thoughts... Well you didn't expect me to, did you?

Each morning I consume a sensible portion of fruit. Fruit is ideal for the body and a daily five portions is looked upon as sacrosanct. I began to cut a banana, as I do most mornings, the slices did not fall about all over the dish, they remained in line, each cut prompted a slight shift yet the banana remained unaffected. This behavour caused me to re-evaluate the fruit. To dash and get my camera and to record a very penis-looking fruit, made more so by erotic ridges. The cuts somehow enhanced the appearance, they also of course rendered it useless as a dildo (if that was your pleasure). A pure case of round hole, square peg. Queer photography? I'll let you be the judge.

  RED PEPPER EXPOSED  -  11/2016
The simple thing of cutting a pepper, and photographing one side has revealed an alarming differing responses from people viewing the picture. Most, as you would expect linked it with eating, suggesting favorite meals. Women in particular commented about the benefits of the fruit in cooking terms, their collective knowledge disclosed an immense cooking skills. Men were a very mixed bunch. One didn't know what it was, another suggested it looked like a mouth. A teenage lad liked the picture, but really didn't know why anyone would take it, a still life picture certainly wasn't his cup of tea yet I'd bet his response to a very still nude female would have been different. It was with utter disbelief I got a sniffy comment from an elderly lady, "Looks rude to me", she said. "How"? I replied. "Looks like, you know, a women's thing"! I was flabbergasted. And from a rather well-to-do lady too. She must have a peculiar bit of her anatomy that prompted that, I thought. It only goes to say how strange folk are.

  BREXIT  -  The Will Of The People Or Lawyers Or MP's?   -   11/2016
As the whole Brexit circus careers a bit out of control after the Law Judges ruled on Friday 4th November, I'm beginning to consider the final result. In doing so I cannot stop laughing at its bizarre nature.

I am indebted to two Daily Telegraph feature writers, Charles Moore and Michael Deacon. Their writings are testament to this dramatic period of the Nation's future. Moore writes,"The judges are right that the Referendum Act does not explicitly make its result mandatory. But here we enter a realm where the constitutional matters more than the pure legal. So far as I know, there is no mandatory provision that the winner of a British general election must form the Government. It is not a matter of law. Yet it would be a disaster if this constitutional convention were not observed".

Deacon takes his observations to another level. "Brexit is becoming very difficult to follow. Let's see if we can summarise the latest developments. Basically: the people who campaigned for parliamentary sovereignty now reject parliamentary sovereignty, while the people who thought is was overrated now prize it above all else. The ones who called the losing side moaners are now moaning because they lost, while the ones who didn't respect the result are now telling them to respect the result. And the MP's who wanted to hand power back to British judges now want to take power away from British judges to stop British judges stopping MP's from handing power back to them."

Is it all just a farce or am I guilty of fostering a wonderfully comic attitude to the issue?




















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