Contact

The words/images balance has been a little out of kilter this week. The weather's been dreary, the light's been dull, and it's been one of those weeks when I just seem to be repeating myself. Now, I'm more aware than most that "repeating yourself" is an essential part of the process that ends in not repeating yourself, but that doesn't stop it being frustrating. I just try to get out there every day and see what happens. Luckily, I don't depend on bringing home the Good Stuff to make a living.

In compensation, I've been going through old film contact sheets, and scanning (or in some cases rescanning) anything that grabs my attention. It's curious how you can overlook a gem for years, and then suddenly see it there. Your brain finally catches up with what your eye saw a decade ago.

This first is a rescan, and an image that has fascinated me since I took it on a cold Easter day in 1995, just before a major snowstorm near Llandrindod Wells in the Welsh Borders. It wants to be part of a sequence: it may yet get its wish.



This second is a "new" discovery: it was so dark on the contact sheet that I had never noticed it before, but I could see that the negative looked interesting when I scanned a neighbouring frame. I do remember taking it, though: we were staying on a farm near Crewkerne in Somerset in 2000, and I went out for a night walk, armed with a Fuji GS645 and a flash. This haycart, parked on a hillside above the lights of Crewkerne, was barely visible in the dark, but loomed promisingly beside the path.