I think these photos were for a PR exercise for Shirley in 1968-9(?) and the image below appeared in the Prahran/Malvern local press. Like all my ‘commercial’ assignments they were opportunities to make more personal work, some of which ended up in my class portfolios. Continue reading “Shirley Jacobs – Villa Maria concert”
Way back when, er… maybe 1969-70 when I’d just started trying to make money as a photographer after leaving Photography school, I photographed a number of LP covers and did PR shots for Crest Records, the small company that we were renting our upstairs studio and darkroom from. It was opposite the Tooronga railway station in Melbourne. Continue reading “Shirley Jacobs – Crest Records”
Of course the longer you leave recorded ‘things’ (film, video, photographs), the harder it is to remember/find out ‘facts’ about them later. Screening/viewing them often helps a bit, but they don’t carry (much) metadata with them, especially after the creator of the ‘things’ dies. Or the custodian loses their mind. There is something reassuring however, in that they gain historical value and wider interest because they’ve stayed their in the archive box unseen for years. And because in the case of film, if they’ve been un-screened, un-played and un-scanned they’ve usually maintained their physical quality. There’s drying, and shrinkage which means you can’t project them, they twist so even a hand wind film viewer stresses them (digital scans are kinder). The vinegar syndrome has started to attack these particular Standard 8mm examples, and yesterday, while I was editing-handling the reels, the fumes got to me. Headaches and (even more than usual) blurred eyes. That’s something you can slow down but not stop, so there’s a deadline attached to that cardboard box. Continue reading “Doctor Woods home movies – Introduction”
You can’t depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focusMark Twain
with a big enough flood, one gets to start over completely. All of Noah’s bad credit and debts, the embarrassing things his coworkers know about him, the lies he told his first girlfriend and never got around to correcting—all those vanish with enough rain and destruction.From The Believer magazine on what we are forgetting in our attraction to apocalyptic movies/literature – the aftermath is always messier than we want.
When I asked the waiter what the birds were, circling above the old walls over our balcony table view in Spello, he shrugged, rolled his eyes and said he didn’t know, “Even what they are called in Italian?” I asked disbelieving. Nope. Now I’ve found they’re ‘Western’ jackdaws, Google says in Italian they’re ‘taccola’. If you decide to call them rooks, it is ‘corvi’, (crows are ‘corvo’).Continue reading “Jackdaws”
If you closely examine the men of the quill
And search for goods stolen with sharp piercing eyes,
Taking these from the pages their volumes which fill,
Huge quartos would shrink to a very small size.
Jean de la Fontaine from his Fables Choisies – John Matthews, English translator.
(This follows a variation on one of the Jackdaw myths and fables I wrote about, and is mentioned here in Wikipedia, that source of all stolen goods.)
I don’t look at this page much. If you have had recurring dreams about falling from a tower, you might want to give this entry a miss as well. I won’t mind.
Continue reading “Falling”
“Carol wants me to write a novel: ‘You’ve met so many interesting people,’ she tells me.
Very good, there was a young man and he could never get his hands on enough women. That’s a novel.
There was an idiot and he became God. That’s the same novel. I can’t possibly think of any others.
It is rather pleasant to be the author of two such excellent novels. The critics are divided in their opinions. One lot believes that they should be shorter; another not, that they should be a mite longer. I rather prefer short critics to long ones. I like critics with tan shoes — look nicer, I think. . .”
-From The Journal Of Albion Moonlight by Kenneth Patchen, Continue reading “The Journal of Albion Moonlight and Kenneth Patchen”