photography – Page 28

Ephemera

1. this dinosaur has the distinction of being the ugliest of all my dinosaurs

2. osteospermum – not all flowers are beloved by poets

3. i am queen of holes

4. band poster i designed for these guys

5. cryptic list found in a second-hand copy of A Music Course For Students printed circa 1956. list reads:

Tennis racquet

Room at the top and another one

food

6 a second-hand book about technical drawing, inside of which i found

7 this highly technical drawing (reverse signed “D McLaughlin”)

8 i have spent so long dreaming of the summer sun that would bleach my soul clean like an old bone

Something, or someone, left almost exactly half a rabbit outside the back doorstep. Or a bit, if you will.

Dr Quirkey’s Good Time Emporium.

When the mechanism that allows me to feel things is broken and I need to force an emotional experience, I sometimes go to this place and wander around these coin pushers and claw machines and Buck Hunt and Ridge Racer and Time Crisis, and for some reason the juxtaposition of things I like with things I hate does the trick and I leave feeling either really good or really bad.

In here are things that are tacky and shiny and colourful and trivial and beautiful and anthropomorphic and nostalgic and weird. And also things that are cynical and misogynistic and exploitative; and seedy and greedy and hopeless; and violent in a way that’s cruel instead of cathartic.

Some days I want to step into this strange glittering cave, and walk past all the kitten-eyed kids trying to win keyrings and sticker tattoos, and then walk past all the rows of dead-eyed adults mechanically pumping the slot machines, and then keep walking to the games at the very back where there’s never anyone around, and just play Dance Dance Revolution by myself.

On a conscious level I really like hares but on a subconscious level I find them horrifying and vast and monstrous and they trigger some kind of arachnid reaction

because they are cute like rabbits but JESUS CHRIST WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR GIANT MUTANT LEGS

Things Going On In Holes

(in Ulrich Rückriem’s “8 Limestones” outdoor sculpture at IMMA).

One of the few objects left, and the only book, was Roland Yorke (1912), by Mrs Henry Wood; the epigraph on the title page is the last stanza from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem “My Lost Youth”.

Attempting to take photographs through the fogged windows of a derelict house during strange spring evening light. Images of interiors partially obscured by condensation, spiderwebs, reflections and/or the mists of time.

reflections

jerkbird