William

What a lovely little chap, young William from last weeks shoot. Such a cheerful little fellow.

This is his second sitting. His grandmother paid for a first year photography package as a gift for her daughter, Williams mum. We met him when he was only a couple of weeks old. Here he is 4 months later.

Hey Hey, Its a holi-holiday

A four day weekend and great sunshine, what more could you all ask for?
My wedding anniversary tomorrow. 11 years.

Zero% Body Fat

This is the guy who answered the advert for a model below.

Lost Finale

Where to start with this one. Six seasons in. More questions than an 'A' level paper on Astro-physics. More fractured relationships than 121 episodes of The Jerry Springer Show. And we end up with a crib sheet from the closing seen from Titanic or Ashes to Ashes. Have all script writers got together to share endings to drama's that dig a hole so deep no one can escape. I guess it could have been worse, it could have all been a dream. The Simpsons guessed it was Vincent the dogs dream. Close but no cigar.
So to summerise. flight 815 did crash. Six escaped the island, then returned three years later. Locke and Ben left the island. Ben kills Lock, then returns to the island. Everyone dies except Sawyer, Kate & Clare, with a three hundred year old man, a guy who feels dead folk and a pilot who should have flown the original doomed flight. Hurley and Ben remain to look after the island. When everyone dies, not matter when, they all meet at a church to pass on to the other side together because that shared experience defined their lives.

Ever get the feeling you've been conned?

Summers here?

Had a shoot this morning with a cheerful little 4 month old baby boy called William, a real smiler. His parents are a lovely couple and he is a credit to them both. Then stepped out into the world.
It's amazing to think that all it takes to see smiling faces in Britain is some great sunny weather. Got in the car and the temp readout was 31 degrees. Fantastic.
Sunday lunch at mothers, roast beef and yorkshire pudding. The business.
All the windows are now open, there's a cooling breeze through the house and my dog is dozing in any shade he can find.

Garden Frog

Does exactly what it says on the tin, well title. Found this little guy while mowing the lawn.

Vogue58 wins.

The Nottingham Outlaws Photographic Society held a monthly picture competition last night. Vogue58 took top marks and best image title in the Open Catagory. It then went on to win best image of the night when put against the winner from the Themed catagory.

Impatient Cabby

Taken on a Saturday night in Houndsgate Nottingham.

I often walked down this street thinking how well the closeness of the buildings framed the church at its end. Determined to capture the shot in my minds eye I though a nightshot might had some drama to the image. The drama however was supplied by an impatient cabby who mounted the pavement to get around the other cabs sitting in the taxi rank. The long exposure provides ample evidence of his journey along the pavement.

Shove Your Ticket

Exchange Walk, Nottingham. Outside McDonalds last summer, I couldn't resist this shot.

Using Honey For Bait

I made this up into a poster for a Nottingham gym looking to attract a male model. I'm talking a real spit and saw dust gym, not one of these trendy Virgin type places. The tag line went along the lines of "Fancy This? Now I have your attention please call to book a free photography session with.... blah blah blah", the usual studio address details. I only got three responses and only one had the nerve to bare all and pose. Come back soon to see what answered the casting call.

Not Quite The Krays

Inspired by David Bailey's iconic 60's shot of the Kray twins, this is a version with Thomas and his little brother Oliver. Not shot as harsh as the original because of the subject matter, but still a fun picture.

A New Hair Do

One of my favourite portrait shots of a model called Jane White from Basford in Nottingham. She is an excellent model available for work. Drop me a line for her details. This iamge works really well as an Hi-Key image espcially as her new hair do frames her face.

Smokin'

Another image left to languish till inspiration struck.
The original images were taken during a group shoot at Bright Lights studio in Draycott.
This panel of three images then became the main image at my last exhibition of work at the Art Organisation on Station Street in Nottingham.

Vogue 58

The reworking of an image I took in January 2009 during a session with a model called Saskia Lee. The inspiration for this was from a Vogue front page which was reworked by Rankin in a BBC programme called Seven Images That Changed Fashion Photography. I often re-visit old images and rework them from a fresh perspective.

In loving memory of Walter S. Marriott Snr

He was my greatest hero, my rock, my mentor, my councillor, my sounding board for life's questions. I did not always agree with him, but knew his advise came from a place of experience and love.

A lover and a fighter.

In a time of war he was born into a large loving family. Times were tough and so were they, they had no choice. He often told me that you don't back down from a fight. Fight for what you believe to be the truth and if you lose you take your lumps, but at least you fought for what you believed in. Brian mentioned yesterday that the times he fought by dad’s side, Dad never started it, but never walked away from it either. And that includes the times he kicked deaths arse over the last few years.

As a lover he loved with his whole heart. His family always came first. He was the rock they all knew they could rely on. If he could help he would, even if the price included what some might think a lecture. Life was for living and he lived it to the full. He was always cheerful and had time for all. He also had an anecdote for all occasions.

These last few years were tough ones, just like the first 18, but he often told me that between those times he had the best life, and the best of this country. He was only in the army for a few years but relived those adventures on a regular basis. And I would happily let him tell me stories he'd told me countless times before because he liked to, and I liked to hear him. He was young, vital and full of life in those stories. He was the hero of my childhood in those stories. He even named me after his best friend from those army days.

He was my hero for many reasons. As a young lad he and his bothers were my ideal of what a man should always aspire to be. Harder than granite. Yet I also saw the softer side that showed a real man cares for his family and both protects and prepares them from the harsh world around them.
He would take it upon himself to introduce not only myself but many of my cousins to the art of the pub crawl. And many times he told me that it was his way of protecting us. If we were out with him and got into trouble he would be there to help. Until we knew what it was all about, the move from children playing in the street to adults playing in the pub was watched over by our guardian angel.

Memories fade but the scars still linger,
Goodbye my friend,
Will I ever love again?

As I've already mentioned he loved to tell his anecdotes.
He also once sat me down and told me that in a hundred years time no-one would remember any of us, he was right. But they can still be reminded of us.
I would like to leave an open invitation to everyone who knew him to leave an anecdote of their own. Any fond memory of a big hearted man, born on Skipton Circus in December 1942, and died on Skipton Circus in May 2010.

Funeral Blues

Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public... doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

-- W H Auden

I love you Dad and WILL see you later. I promise.

A Hero's Passing

Sad to say that my father passed away this morning. He will be more than sadly missed.

Welcome

Hello out there in cyber web internet type world. Welcome to my first blog. I have to thank Christian Payne @ documental.ly for the inspiration in giving this new aspect of communication a try. I hope you enjoy and feel free to leave comments.