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#MYLDN (190)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

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#MYLDN (189)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

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#MYLDN (188)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london… 

Don’t listen to him, he’s a liar, all men are. He’ll leave you…they always do…you just wait and see..they don’t care about you, they just care about themselves…you’re an idiot if you think otherwise. Frank said he would be with me for ever..where the fuck is he now? I don’t need him..I don’t need anyone…especially not a man. Telling me what to do, who to speak to..no-one tells me what to do anymore..I can do whatever I want…what do I need a man for? I’ve got a rabbit…better than a man any day…can’t buy me a drink though can it?

 

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#MYLDN (187)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

Be a model dah-ling, its soooo glamourous…yeah, right…standing outside a launderette for 3 hours with a hairdo like the bride of frankenstein…how glamourous can you get? I look horrific! And if that twat tells me to “just have fun with it” one more time I will stab him in the eye socket with this cigarette…how can you have fun with it when you’ve done it 80 friggin times? This isn’t fun…this is bullshit…I’m so done with this…..I want to eat and do normal people things…although I do want this coat..and this bag…for the love of Gucci, just get on with it! Its just one friggin photograph – how hard can it be?! 

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#MYLDN (186)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

I’m number one, I’m the man, the geezer. Numero Uno…I’m fucking ‘ard. These punks are scared of me. Back in the day I’d ‘ave taken ’em apart. Fucked ’em up good and propa. I could still ‘ave ’em. Beat ’em sideways with that bleedin baguette I would…show ’em who’s boss. Fuckin ingrates! Don’t know they’re born. I’d teach ’em a fing or two…like how to welcome my fist into their face. If it weren’t for me arthritis I’d ‘bash hells bells out of ’em, I’d rip ’em to shreds…I’d…I’d better get home…me bag’s leaking…

 

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#MYLDN (185)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

If I’d lived in the 60s, when I was supposed to, everything would be sweet. I wouldn’t be working in this crummy vintage store in London. I’d be in a pool, in Californ-i-a, with free lovin 60s babes, on peyote, writing meaningful rock songs..that’s what I’d be doing. Straight up. Present day sucks man…altho this lovely lady might be into the whole 60s vibe…just look cool dude, let her come to you…

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#MYLDN (184)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

Dear Diary, hopes of being discovered as an impassioned but poverty stricken writer are going well…sitting on the church courtyard floor in my trendy beret scribbling furiously in my notebook whilst occasionally furrowing my brow in an enigmatic fashion have garnered the attention of a local photographer who is currently taking my picture…fame is finally on its way..hurrah!

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#MYLDN (183)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

 

 

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#MYLDN (182)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

This magnificent sign no longer exists. Neither does the stadium that housed it. They sold it to property developers (what a shocker!) and now there is just a big empty space where this neon wonder once was. My family were from around Walthamstow and when I was younger we used to go visit and I would get very excited at the prospect of seeing the sign. There was a story that my Grandfather won an insane amount of money on the dogs in the ’30s and promptly put it all back on within a matter of weeks. If he hadn’t our family probably would have been stupidly rich. Dem’s the breaks.

When I grew up I would go there to gamble in a vain attempt to replicate the first half of his experience but when you’re laying down £1 bets its a little tricky to accumulate any life-changing wealth. And yet, at whatever the bet, winning was always a beautiful thing. I would scream the terraces down as my £1 dog crossed the finish line and would joyfully bounce up to the cashier’s to collect my 73p win. London itself is all the poorer for the loss of both the stadium and the sign…gambling online in your dressing gown just ain’t got the same glamour somehow…

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#MYLDN (181)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

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#MYLDN (180)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

The opposing team fans were in the carriage next door. They chanted at them (in German) at the tops of their voices for about ten straight stops. During a small lull the guy in front asked me if I was into football. I said I wasn’t. He looked crestfallen, like a 6 year old who’d just been told Santa Claus didn’t exist. The chanting resumed shortly after.

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#MYLDN (179)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

This is a picture of a man with unfeasibly long arm hair. It has no artistic merit whatsoever. I’ve just never seen arm hair you could plait. My only defence to this friday freak show is that it might provide some living proof of our evolutionary ancestry. 

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#MYLDN (178)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

This is also part of the gallery “The Death of Television”. Click here to view.

I have been taking pictures of abandoned objects discarded on the streets of London for about five years. I have amassed in the region of around 1000 photographs of which I am now stripping down into galleries. This is the first of the series. 

I don’t quite remember how or why it started but I found myself relentlessly drawn to documenting these now homeless household items.  I became fixated with their rejected status, cast out into the elements, ejected from their families, once loved and in pride of place, now discarded and forlorn.

It occurred to me that my photographs would also become the last documentation of their existence before they were removed from sight and society, sent either to languish an eternity on a landfill or simply destroyed.  These pictures are dedicated to all you broken (hearted) pieces of unwanted junk.  I salute you and wish you well on your journey to the great living-room in the sky.

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#MYLDN (177)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

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#MYLDN (176)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

The Circle (line) of Hate: why hate one type of person when you can hate them all? Also, not sure the melting pot of London, which has pretty much every culture,race and religion on the planet present is maybe such a great place for you to hang out…you’re just going to get wound up..why not try somewhere a bit more secluded maybe…like a remote island in the pacific..or maybe deep space.

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#MYLDN (175)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

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#MYLDN (174)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

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#MYLDN (173)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

– Would you be willing to fake an over the top but seemingly natural reaction at this clearly manipulated test for the cameras in exchange for getting your out of work actress face on the tv for a couple of measly moments?

– Oh my God, I absolutely would!

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#MYLDN (172)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

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#MYLDN (171)

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london…

I don’t know what it is but I seem to have a habit of pissing off 80s pop stars by taking their picture when they’re not expecting it. Why they would be pissed off I can’t imagine? This is probably the closest I’ll get to being a pap..and its plenty close enough. Its also about as close as I want to be to Paul Weller as he looks like he’d prob take a swing if you got too close…