I pondered about this one, because, despite the title it isn't technically about being Homeless - please read on though - hopefully I'll be able to explain myself better.
There's a gulch near my house - I guess round these parts you'd call it a glen, albeit a really really small one. It is steep and contains a well-maintained public footpath.
It's been there for a long time as far as I can tell.
There's a wall alongside it that I would say dates back to at least the mid-1800's by the look of it, however it is probably likely that the course of the path runs much further back in time.
The wall is certainly on the 1847 Charles Edwards Survey Map.
In my experience boundaries of all kinds are usually far older than they seem.
It's been there for a long time as far as I can tell.
There's a wall alongside it that I would say dates back to at least the mid-1800's by the look of it, however it is probably likely that the course of the path runs much further back in time.
The wall is certainly on the 1847 Charles Edwards Survey Map.
In my experience boundaries of all kinds are usually far older than they seem.
Prior to the railways arriving, the Firth of Tay was boundaried in this part of town by a cliff before it hit the docks of the city centre. This gulch runs down through what is still there of the cliff.
There is vegetation everywhere - dense old trees, ramsons, ground ivy, bramble, gorse.
There is vegetation everywhere - dense old trees, ramsons, ground ivy, bramble, gorse.
It is (unusually, for public land) completely wild; the council haven't attacked it with weed killer or strimmers.
There are what appear to be animal trackways - they could well belong to deer or foxes or just the humble coney. They're well used, but there's no spraints of any animal variety, just human and then not very often, but it doesn't half give you a surprise!
In amongst this wildness, this lost parcel of land, someone has, at some point in recent time, chosen to take refuge.
I'll pause there, because immediately to my mind the word desperation makes itself felt.
Well. you'll see what I mean when you see the photographs.
I can sort of understand it though.
The area is relatively secluded, well, actually, it is very secluded, yet you're within a ten minute walk of food shops and so on.
And yet, despite their invisibility, the sites (there are/were two of them) are despoiled.
Vandals?
Madness?
Who knows?
The site in these photographs contains a (not very obvious) sleeping bag kicked into the dirt and the remnants of a campsite - old buckets, plastic, bottles and tins.
The refuse is actually quite well hidden in the undergrowth, like they wanted it to be secret.
Slowly nature is reclaiming this brief intrusion, as she will always.
The refuse is actually quite well hidden in the undergrowth, like they wanted it to be secret.
Slowly nature is reclaiming this brief intrusion, as she will always.
The other site contains the same detritus, plus the wreckage of a tarp shelter; a traffic cone; more buckets; some tins and, perhaps shockingly to these modern sensibilities, some sad, lone bits of excrement.
It's a weird thing - everybody does it, few talk about it, but when you discover such a thing, when you nearly plant your foot in it, it becomes a matter of outrage.
You feel really unclean.
I came home and sanitized my tripod legs and shoes
It's a weird thing - everybody does it, few talk about it, but when you discover such a thing, when you nearly plant your foot in it, it becomes a matter of outrage.
You feel really unclean.
I came home and sanitized my tripod legs and shoes
With regards to our depositor of surprises, where has this person gone?
That's what I'd like to know.
In the past year of so, this is the fourth destroyed campsite I've seen, and not just in my area, but in various bits of the town - the Docks and Seabraes.
Is it the same person?
If it is, to just abandon everything like your sleeping bag, tarp, tent etc., why?
Is it the same person?
If it is, to just abandon everything like your sleeping bag, tarp, tent etc., why?
Anyway, I'll leave the unponderables.
Maybe you have a similar thing going on where you live.
It's always worth lifting those bushes and checking - if someone wants to take themselves out of society, well, though not easy, it can be done.
I'm actually reminded of a brilliant book by William Boyd, called Ordinary Thunderstorms, about a scientist, who, through no fault of his own, is thrust into the world of invisibility and starts sleeping rough.
It's always worth lifting those bushes and checking - if someone wants to take themselves out of society, well, though not easy, it can be done.
I'm actually reminded of a brilliant book by William Boyd, called Ordinary Thunderstorms, about a scientist, who, through no fault of his own, is thrust into the world of invisibility and starts sleeping rough.
It's a rip-snorter of a plot and highly recommended.
Anyway, enough - on with the photos, though as usual you get the notes too!
Film #66/72
1. 4 second reading to 10 seconds - f8 ZIII - Garage
2. 4 second reading to 10 seconds - f22 ZIII - 21cm Focus - Parallax - Gargh!
3. 1 second reading to 3 seconds - f16 ZIII
4. 1 second - f11 ZIII - Homeless
5. 2 second reading to 5 seconds - f22 ZIII - Tape Measure 48cm
6. 2 second reading to 5 seconds - f16 ZIII - Tape Measure 52cm - Ivy
7. 1 second - f16 - ZIII
8. 1/2 second - f22 - ZIII
9. 2 second reading to 5 seconds - f11 ZIII - Homeless
10. 2 second reading to 5 seconds - f16 ZIII - Ivy + Tripod Leg
11. 8 second reading to 19 seconds - f22 ZIII - Tape Measure 50cm to 150cm Focus
12. 8 second reading to 19 seconds - f22 ZIII - Quick Release Plate Came Loose
Used a small tape measure a lot - worked well, be sure to use it in the future.
5+5+500ml PHD 22℃ - agit to 14 mins, stand to 18 mins.
The detail on every leaf is extraordinary - it's like they are etched - very pleasing to my eyes especially considering the blurriness from the PVD which is ongoing and very flarey
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| Homeless I |
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| Homeless II |
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| Homeless III |
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| Homeless IV |
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| Homeless V |
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| Homeless VI |
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| Homeless VII |
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| Homeless VIII |
I know, I can hear you saying it to yourself:
"But where's the filfth? Where's the grinding poverty? Where the Don McCullin man?"
Well, you know, they're/it's not there and that's the sort of semi-surreal thing about it, and I guess that why I am most pleased with Homeless VIII.
The 19 second exposure has given movement to the tree's branches, which in turn has added an air of unreality and dream to it.
Well it has to my eyes.
Don't worry - I don't think I'll be going all Lee Big Stopper on you yet - that whole branch of modern photography is rather sad. If you want to see what it can truly do, please search out John Blakemore - he was innovating (after a manner with the baton from Wynn Bullock) decades ago.
If you've never looked at either photographer's works, please search them out.
Don't worry - I don't think I'll be going all Lee Big Stopper on you yet - that whole branch of modern photography is rather sad. If you want to see what it can truly do, please search out John Blakemore - he was innovating (after a manner with the baton from Wynn Bullock) decades ago.
If you've never looked at either photographer's works, please search them out.
Kudos must be paid to Pyrocat-HD as a developer - without a staining developer there's no way in heck the highlights would have had a chance of being printed.
I know I am lucky too in having the SWC/M to rely on - every single piece of veining on leaves shows up - the Biogon is without a doubt the greatest lens I have ever used.
Not the easiest, no, but certainly the one that renders foliage in a most extraordinary way.
The closest I can get to it is by saying that you can count every leaf and blade, which you really can't with a lot of lenses.
I used my handy Ilford Reciprocity tables - basically, apart from SFX, most Ilford film under time pressure exhibits the same reciprocity failure, so I knocked up a sheet (along with Kodak) affixed it to some card, and laminated it with cellotape - works great!
Not the easiest, no, but certainly the one that renders foliage in a most extraordinary way.
The closest I can get to it is by saying that you can count every leaf and blade, which you really can't with a lot of lenses.
I used my handy Ilford Reciprocity tables - basically, apart from SFX, most Ilford film under time pressure exhibits the same reciprocity failure, so I knocked up a sheet (along with Kodak) affixed it to some card, and laminated it with cellotape - works great!
These are all 800 dpi scans off of the original prints.
They're all made by me, on my knees (!) in my guerilla darkroom - I guess where there's a will there's a way.
Paper is my current easy go-to paper - Ilford MGRC and they're all on Grade 3, except the contact which was Grade 2. I suppose if I was using a condenser head on the DeVere I'd be Grade 2 for the prints, but no, it's a colour head, so Grade 3.
I will say, that with my current PVD affecting my eyes, it was damn hard using the grain focuser - they both seemed to be disagreeing (I have two - a Paterson and a Micromega) but in reality it was my eyes at work - very difficult . . but I got there.
Weirdly and cosmically, there's a denouement to all this:
Last night me and t'missus settled down to watch the physicist Brian Cox in his Wonders Of The Universe series - she had some wine and I enjoyed a couple of fine glasses of Ardmore whisky.
Old Coxy boy was explaining atoms and elements; you know the 'We're All Made Of Star Stuff' stuff, and it hit me, that this homeless person and their soon-to-be-returned-to-its-natural-state camp; all the detritus; my camera and film; tripod; the time measured with my Gossen meter and its handy Zone wheel; clothes; me; chemicals; paper; Ardmore; the missus; Coxy; my TV; the tide running deep and wild out in the estuary; my CD player (and Mike Oldfield as I type this); keyboard; ICs in the Mac; phone cables; satellites; you . . .
We're all from the same gaff.
From the same complex, vast in both time and complexity, mishmash of cosmic mashiness.
Like the best bubble and squeak you've ever had, where everything works together, or should work together.
Humans, we have to get there.
There's no going forward nowadays without tolerance, kindness and co-operation.
We're at a point in time where it could soar or go utterly shit-shaped.
For human-kind to progress and lift itself above the sad, petty madness, people have to change.
It is probably unlikely, because there's nothing humans like more than regularity and confirmity and the certainty of the known, but I think you have to move out of that comfort zone sometimes.
Change is good.
It's why we're here.
Maybe homeless person has changed or change has happened to them?
Maybe they 'got lucky' and are driving around in one of the countless bloody Audis you see coming up fast in your rear-view.
Or maybe they copped it and are hidden deep within some Lost Council Wildness waiting for some unfortunate photographer to discover them . . .
Maybe they're still out there, sheltering under some forgotten hedgerow, waiting for time to be kinder to them . . .
Who knows.
That's all there is to it.
For myself I've resolved to think even more on things and try to be less persnickety and pernickety.
Sometimes you have to force yourself to approach things differently.
To quote my hero, Rambling Syd Rumpo from the Sussex Whirdling Song:
There, something that makes me laugh, with language distilled from that most disliked of humans (next to the immigrant) the Romany.
It's what everyone needs though - a different slant on things - celebrate your inner sloth.
Weird eh, and sorry for expounding when all you wanted to do was read about film and stuff . . but that's what you get from getting up at 5 AM and drinking too much tea (Hi Mike!!)
Weirdly and cosmically, there's a denouement to all this:
Last night me and t'missus settled down to watch the physicist Brian Cox in his Wonders Of The Universe series - she had some wine and I enjoyed a couple of fine glasses of Ardmore whisky.
Old Coxy boy was explaining atoms and elements; you know the 'We're All Made Of Star Stuff' stuff, and it hit me, that this homeless person and their soon-to-be-returned-to-its-natural-state camp; all the detritus; my camera and film; tripod; the time measured with my Gossen meter and its handy Zone wheel; clothes; me; chemicals; paper; Ardmore; the missus; Coxy; my TV; the tide running deep and wild out in the estuary; my CD player (and Mike Oldfield as I type this); keyboard; ICs in the Mac; phone cables; satellites; you . . .
We're all from the same gaff.
From the same complex, vast in both time and complexity, mishmash of cosmic mashiness.
Like the best bubble and squeak you've ever had, where everything works together, or should work together.
Humans, we have to get there.
There's no going forward nowadays without tolerance, kindness and co-operation.
We're at a point in time where it could soar or go utterly shit-shaped.
For human-kind to progress and lift itself above the sad, petty madness, people have to change.
It is probably unlikely, because there's nothing humans like more than regularity and confirmity and the certainty of the known, but I think you have to move out of that comfort zone sometimes.
Change is good.
It's why we're here.
Maybe homeless person has changed or change has happened to them?
Maybe they 'got lucky' and are driving around in one of the countless bloody Audis you see coming up fast in your rear-view.
Or maybe they copped it and are hidden deep within some Lost Council Wildness waiting for some unfortunate photographer to discover them . . .
Maybe they're still out there, sheltering under some forgotten hedgerow, waiting for time to be kinder to them . . .
Who knows.
That's all there is to it.
For myself I've resolved to think even more on things and try to be less persnickety and pernickety.
Sometimes you have to force yourself to approach things differently.
To quote my hero, Rambling Syd Rumpo from the Sussex Whirdling Song:
"So there he is, a-plighting his troth ...
A troth, by the way, is a small furry creature with fins. It's a cross between a trout and a sloth or slow-th, and it's a curious match. I often wonder what they saw in each other in the first place, though I suppose the sloth, hanging upside down, tends to have a different slant on things."
It's what everyone needs though - a different slant on things - celebrate your inner sloth.
Weird eh, and sorry for expounding when all you wanted to do was read about film and stuff . . but that's what you get from getting up at 5 AM and drinking too much tea (Hi Mike!!)
Anyway, that's shallot.
I am relatively up-to-date photographically now, so it could be a while before I post anything new.
I did think I could do some more SFX stuff, but the spectre of wrong Nm hit me - it was ghastly and might well be a tale further down the line . . .
Oh and things might change on the next FB simply because Google have decided to change the way you use it to write - I've tried it already and it was more for phone-users and not keyboard heroes . . .
Oh and things might change on the next FB simply because Google have decided to change the way you use it to write - I've tried it already and it was more for phone-users and not keyboard heroes . . .
Over and out - watch out for that trout.
Told you so.
