White Men Can't Be Bothered

They had bolted the basket ball net to a lamp post in an alleyway which was great because it meant we didn't have to play on the public court and get called honky by the black kids or get laughed at by the girls because of the colour of our legs or get jeered every time we shot a brick. So we donned our shorts and shot some hoops. We weren't as fit as we used to be and before long we were grasping our sides and gasping for air. Added to this, i got glass in my foot. There were no winners in that game.

Wet Dreams and Nightmares

Here are some shots from a surrealism project i worked on in my first year at college. I named the project 'Wet Dreams and Nightmares' and the concept was to take a slumber time journey from the erotic to the bizarre and even terrifying. The project has since become something that i work on in my spare time with the view to creating a complete piece which will blend photography, fine art and literature.

---------

-----

-----

-----

Martyr for the Fallen

I have been photographing the good ship SOVIET DISCO since it's maiden voyage. I do prefer to be drunk and perspiring when i go to a gig but in their case i have made an exception and here are some of the results.

----------

Often Flawed, Never Adored

Tucked away in a hall one would presume had lay dormant for fifty years I found Redcar Boxing Club, home to local kids and young adults who sweat buckets in pursuit of a dream - to alleviate the boredom. I was welcomed in with open arms to take pictures, which i did over several weeks in the build up to a local fight night. I was burgled on the very night i had finished my last shoot and lost many of the pictures but, of the survivors, here are a small selection.

Often Flawed, Never Adored

---

Weathered by closed fist jabs,

and hooks that sent you postcards,

right hand leads land with ease,

you bludgeon his fists with your face.

---

You fold like a puppet cut loose,

my thoughts are with the cut man,

a crack on the nose and your mother froze,

but the towels in lost and found.

---

You float on a tank drained dry,

he stings like a wasp wound up,

the ref's playing cards but sends his regards,

and i kiss goodbye to a tenner.

A Glimpse

Mosquito Town will become the home of my photographs and related musings. Here come the clicks and scribbles...