I Can't Put My Finger On It

Posted By Mark on Jan 17, 2012

Back to the street now with my favourite lens (F/2.8L 100mm) and Chichester still hasn't picked up too much in volume of pedestrians at lunch time since after the Christmas/New Year break which is making interesting photo opportunities hard to come by. Today, though, I did watch these two chatting for a while as the older man clearly asked the younger for directions somewhere; there was some dithering on the younger's part as he thought about the exact location and I managed to catch this moment of nose-scratching (traditional aid to navigational memory) during the process. And you'll be pleased to hear that it looked like once he'd remembered he decided to escort the older gentleman on his way. Damn nice to see. Google+: View post on...

Shot Into The Sun

Posted By Mark on Jan 16, 2012

Wide angle lens and shooting directly into the sun? Yes, I must have been feeling experimental today. It's probably the Arctic temperatures seeping into my brain. For #MonochromeMonday curated by +Siddharth Pandit. Google+: View post on...

Rock, Paper, Scissors

Posted By Mark on Jan 15, 2012

Fashion Faves – Sarah Stephens

Posted By Mark on Jan 15, 2012

A shot of Sarah Stephens by Yossi Michaeli for Glamour Mexico via Fashion Gone Rogue. Wonderful use of light and colour here to bring in some real warmth to what could be a very cold look with its harsh black and white style. The shadows in the background are just beautiful. Sarah’s a great choice of model for these clothes and...

Causal And Effects

Posted By Mark on Jan 14, 2012

“Jehovah’s Witnesses?” The couple turned their heads and looked at one another, she glancing down and he staring up on account of their relevant heights. A quizzical look passed between them and they turned slowly back towards James. “Not Jehovah’s Witnesses then,” said James who prided himself on his quick uptake but mostly wanted to break the uneasy silence. “No,” said the woman, slowly and carefully, almost concentrating on how the word formed and spilled from her lips. She smiled at this apparent success and continued in a more normal fashion: “You are James Trent of number three, Cosgrove Gardens.” James looked at the number on his open door and then across the road to the sign attached to the house on the corner opposite. He stopped himself from instantly admitting that there was no fault in what had just been said to him. “What do you want with him?” he asked cautiously so that he could still claim any surprise inheritance or pretend he’d moved long ago depending on how this played out. “We are the police,” said the male half of the couple. “We are Temporal Causality Police from your twenty-seventh century,” corrected the female. James nodded and sighed. “Of course you are,” he said with a slight smile. There was a drugs rehab centre three streets over and he’d encountered a scruffy, young man only last year who’d clearly fallen off the rehabilitation wagon and wanted to let the world know he was happy about it, as were the invisible, green unicorns on the rooftops. “Make sure none of the green unicorns get in your Tardis,” he said, and made to close the door. The woman took her hand from her pocket and placed it on James’ arm making him flinch and step away; she had icy cold fingers and it was a decidedly mild March day. “We are here to arrest you,” she said firmly. James felt certain that he must have misheard. “Sorry, you’re what police?” he asked, rubbing at his arm. “Temporal Causality,” said the man with a smile and a nod, and he then fished inside his jacket pocket for a card which was held up towards James. It looked like metal with a fine, translucent mesh across its surface and seemed to flex slightly in the grip of the stranger; there were some markings too that might have been letters, words, and pictures but they seemed to shimmer like holograms and disappear from view when looked at directly. James shook his head to clear the confusion. “You’re what?” he asked again. He hoped this was a new approach by the Jehovah’s...