“yellow sky draped itself over everything lazily” What is the mood of yellow sky draping itself over everything lazily? It’s languid and floppy. Like too much milkshake or Christmas dinner. It’s hot and sleepy. It’s “can’t be bothered”. Camera motion could be slow and droopy. Doesn’t necessarily have to be outside. Could be the sun draping itself over everything inside. Could be sunlight and shadows over ruffled fabric, like a quilt tossed aside. Doesn’t even have to have sunlight on it. My dramatic nerve wants to arrange the quilt as if something had happened before the filming began. I filmed the table I’m working at which has sunlight and long shadows on it. I’m going to wait for the shadows to lengthen and do some more.
What appeals (pun intended) to me about this banana skin is the way the brown wrinkles began appearing after I peeled it. The process was quick. While the fruit was inside, the intact skin was mostly yellow and smooth. Taking the structural support away changed the skin in ways I couldn’t have predicted before I noticed this effect.
I took this photo on my way to work. The floating house was on the side of a van. Reflected on the van is an image of me standing in front of a house. I didn’t take long to compose the photo and I like the way it turned out, particularly the way the windows of the reflection and the van image are lined up. The image on the van reminded me of a drawing I made a couple of years ago of a floating house. It’s quite ramshackle and open to the flow of nature.
The folds of my curtain suggest the nose and lips of a smiling face. The lines creating these suggestions straighten and continue up to the curtain rail. It occurred to me that it could be an analogy of an idea that we exist within 2D space but the illusion of light and shadow creates the suggestion of time and distance making us believe we exist in 3D space. And, if we do exist within a 2D plane, it might be like occupying space within a painting or a film. Images of something. Not quite real but almost.
This strange configuration caught my eye as I crossed the road from Brighton Pavilion Gardens to the patch of green between University of Brighton and the King and Queen pub. How long had it been there like that? Looks like it might rise up to join the Zombie Walk at the end of October.
The rotting corpse contrasts with life bursting out of the ground around it. But does it?
I Am A Strange Loop by Douglas Hofstadter
Sculpting In Time by Andrey Tarkovsky
The Film Sense by Eisenstein
The Heroine’s Journey by Maureen Murdoch
The Energy of Prayer by Thich Nhat Hanh
Why does E=mc2? by Brian Cox and Jeff Forshaw
Elvis Presley by Robert Matthew-Walker
How Yoga Works by Geshe Michael Roach
The Other End of the Leash by Patricia B. McConnell Ph.D.
Coach by Steve Bavister and Amanda Vickers
Your Presence Is Requested At Suvanto by Maile Chapman
The Emporer’s New Mind by Roger Penrose
Is utopia at the bottom of a glass?
I took this from the uppermost sofa seat at the Duke of York cinema, Brighton. The student discounted membership I bought for £25 gives me three free tickets. It means I can sit anywhere, including the £13 seats in the gods. I love being at the top and back – it feels safe and cosy: snug in a little nest. I didn’t realise how much it changed my cinema going experience until I sat there yesterday.