Decisions to make...

A balancing act, of sorts. Been out of it lately, after a visit to a doctor revealed a serious injury, and low blood pressure on top of it... two weeks without exercise, sugar or even coffee. If you know me, that last one is a killer.

And now... got an email, with some amazing news: the chance to be overseas doing something incredible, a major step forward in my career. Only thing is, as it happens, I have to be moving into a new house at the same time, assuming everything clears with our loan.

Goodbye sleep... late nights of Red Bull above, spent with b-boy insomniacs.

Later.

Monday Morning You Look So Fine: The Clash.

The Clash... and the long road there. No power in the house, no chance to work, so I have been bumming out with an injured knee watching Weeds on my iPod. Fell in love with the theme by Malvina Reynolds... and in the second series, the version by Elvis Costello (was going to name Brigid "Declan", by the way, if she was a boy).

Anyways, got to listening to more Elvis, particularly the hard-line reggae stylings of Watching The Detectives... which then had me listening to Sandinista (partially One More Time... straight into One More Dub, with Mikey Dread) and then naturally, drifted into Bankrobber. Why not?

Could have gone for Stone Roses or Ian Brown after that, as they were present at the recordings... but how you going to walk away from this:

"Some is rich, and some is poor,
That's the way the world is.
But I don't believe in lying back
Sayin' how bad your luck is...

Run rabbit run...

Strike out boys,
For the hills
I can find that hole in the wall
And I know that they never will." - The Clash

By the way, the shot is from pissing about with my brother... a game ranger, who was leading us back to the vehicle after taking us within 15 or so metres of some White Rhino (a male and a female) while on a walk. I was freezing, and well aware of the speed difference between that of my little legs and an irate rhino.

My brother is well 'ard.

Later.

Got to thinking about family...

This wee sprog is going to be four soon... was just over 1 year and a couple months here, as I was about to go on the road.

A new house soon, bank willing.

Moving on... later.

Monday Morning You Look So Fine: Faithless.

Nice. Simple. Dance.

"This is my church
This is where I heal my hurt
It's a natural grace
Of watching young life shape
It's in minor keys
Solutions and remedies
Enemies becoming friends
When bitterness ends
This is my church...

... For tonight
God is a DJ" - Faithless.

Later.

"Throw stones at a can, whistle."

Though I have yet to hold a copy in my hands, I gather Highveld Living has finally published the images I shot of rodeo cowboys... in the highveld! I alluded to it back here, though tried to keep it to myself in the meantime and not blog the hell out of it before it was even published.

When I first showed these images to curators and colleagues, they naturally seemed out of place in a South African context; the first reference made was that they reminded one of a "70's Geographic story", no doubt ala William Albert Allard. Funnily enough, after shooting them in July, I came across these on the site of David Alan Harvey in October, from a story he shot for National Geographic... some images are iconic, I guess...

Oh, and for those that were wondering, the title is a line by Clark Gable, from The Misfits.

Later.

"Made and painted from life."

Zander and I have been caught in discussions of technique... for all my dedication to the approach and ritual of a documentarian, I find myself recently influenced by his parodies of Modernism and other paths. Finding reference and focus in the words, works and ideals of painters, even as Zander points to my work as "painterly" at times. This, for example, written of Caravaggio:

... the characteristic look of the work of Caravaggio — night-time setting, dramatic lighting, ordinary people used as models, honest description from nature.

Even words he wrote himself:

All works, no matter what or by whom painted, are nothing but bagatelles and childish trifles... unless they are made and painted from life, and there can be nothing... better than to follow nature.

Understandably, Zander is the guy I sent an sms to when I first walked alone into a room in the Tate Modern and realised what I was looking at; though, Bacon has more reference for him in the chaos of a studio, or even viewed in black and white (as this was originally shot, sideways, under my Oasis jacket, without permission).

Later.

Monday Morning You Look So Fine: William Butler Yeats.

Something different... verse, unsung... prose by Yeats, on what is "popular poetry"? Another disconnected Irishman, such as myself, was discussing similar things with me: What puts the "pop" in popular, and where then may we then draw our electricity from?

This was all shortly before the others woke... long before this image was made, though the conversation had spread constantly over this pastoral landscape.

Last night I saw another reference to Yeats, a meek one... felt obliged to dig out some dusty books, remind myself why I laud W.B. above most others, and why I have battled Hunter as to this... for Hunter, I guess.

Here's Yeats, in reference to "Nature":

"It is for her sake that we must stir ourselves, but we would not trouble to get out of bed in the morning, or to leave our chairs once we are in them, if she had not her conjuring bag." - W.B. Yeats

Later.

Since Pierre asked...

... though there is so much more to say, to show.

Happy New Year all... Zander, 04:57 in the morning, the "after" to the previous post's "before".

He is nothing if not consistent.

Later.