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

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

To see the full gallery “R U Talkin to Me? (vol 2) please click here

As the saying goes: “if you can’t say anything positive, don’t say anything at all”. Fortunately I can photograph things around me and get them to do the talking for me. The statements  I have encountered on my travels strewn across this city somehow sum up my thoughts and feelings on this shit storm we are being propelled into. They hopefully convey a fraction of the ridiculousness, pointlessness and general horribleness of it all because right now I feel both too powerless to speak and am also consciously aware I don’t wish to add to the gargantuan mountain of vitriolic opinions already present on the internet.

But are these messages I see out of the corner of my eye talking for me or to me? Is the Universe trying to tell me something or am I seeing what I want to see? We are relentlessly bombarded with messages from media and advertising in every waking moment of our lives but what about the word on the street? What about the writing on the walls, the jackets, the advisory signs..are they signs or just signs?

We see things and we feel they are meant for us. We know these randomly discovered statements can’t actually be specifically for us but sometimes they connect with what is going on in our sub-conscious and their significance to ourselves is hard to ignore . Although we have to take into account we are often a little too eager to assign greater meaning to things that maybe is warranted because ultimately it gives purpose and  relevance to our existence. It makes us believe that we are not insignificant. That our lives actually matter in the great scheme of things. A delusion possibly but almost definitely  a necessary one.

We live in an era where we seem, more than ever, to be defined by our opinions and interact with people through the agreement or opposition to those publicly shared statements.  You used to be judged on how you look, what you wore, but not it is your words on the web that will give you your identity although slogan clothing, which is featured in a few of the photographs does seems to be a current fashion these days. I guess there was  a need to provide some sort of real life accompaniment to our digital declarations because what we believe in can be posted to social media for everyone to see but what do you do when you are in reality? How can people tell how you feel or what you stand for? Solution? Become a walking billboard for your own opinions. It’s essentially the real life equivalent of the Facebook inspirational poster, fortunately without the inclusion of a background of a sunset, clouds, rainbows or fucking unicorns. (I don’t mean unicorns having sex btw – that’s on a different site I believe).

I always wanted  a t-shirt that said “Yoga can’t stop death” so maybe I should just go ahead and scrawl it on the back of me jacket if that’s the current vogue. Ironically it would probably result in me being battered to death by a mob of angry yoga women in jeggings all pumped up on kale juice. Probably wouldn’t have been my first choice for my demise but there you go…

If you would like to see my previous series of “R U Talkin to me” please click here

 

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

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

 

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

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

First World Problems – Ep2 – The Mum who won’t listen

first world meltdowns – Ep 2 – The Mum who won’t Listen from babycakes romero on Vimeo.

If you missed Episode 1 here it is: https://vimeo.com/192182951

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

Q: What is the difference between someone you know and a stranger?

A: A stranger makes no attempt to hide what they are feeling.

Some snatched street portraits this week. All the subjects featured seem to be weighed down with their own thoughts. Or rather they are just not concealing their weariness or unhappiness as they do not feel anyone is looking. If we become aware we are being observed we will do our best to conceal what we are thinking. The irony is that our guard is up more in private with those we know than  in public with those who we don’t. Surrounded by an endless sea of strangers, we make no effort to put our ‘face’ on. These photographs for me represent the face behind the face. The one people don’t want you to see. But if we are all doing the same thing, why hide it?

We live in an era where so many photographs presented in the digital domain feature fake smiles. An endless stream of selfies featuring nothing but artificial moments fabricated for the camera. You cannot trust a presentation of happiness that has been constructed for consumption. So is misery ultimately more truthful than happiness? People rarely fake being miserable, not in photographs at any rate, so maybe you can trust misery more as the default position of the human condition. The truth is both are moods and states of mind that we experience on a regular basis, the real difference is that we try to hide one but project the other.

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

Now that is something I do understand.

This week’s photographs focus on unexplainable art I have recently ncountered on my travels through this city. The question is this: can art be art without meaning? Surely that is the requirement for it to qualify? But maybe the point of art is that it is indefinable. It slips through the cracks of our consciousness. We cannot always file it in our brains because it is unclassifiable.

I used to think that art was anything creative that was produced without the desire for financial returns. (That’s what I conveniently told myself anyway). Its existence was enough. It was free from the sullied hands of commerce and sought reward not in gold but in the human soul. In modern times, this is now very far from the reality for the Premiere league. Art is now one of the biggest commodities around and seems to be one of the few industries outside the city that is still raking in the cash.

As so many companies have been forced out of Soho because of extortionate rates the art world has moved  in. You only have to take a look at the square footage of the new Marion Goodman gallery off Golden Square to know that the art world is doing just fine. It makes you realise that this unquantifiable product of human expression, this abstract attempt to make sense of our world is obviously highly valued in today’s society. It is also apt that in these commodity driven times where everything is traded for middle men mark ups, even the industry devoted to the purist of intention has had its culturally enriching credits transformed into stock value and been rebranded as a luxury status symbol for the superrich.

The market worth of the art world does however show how important it is still regarded in society and how  much we must want it and need it and as soon many other areas fail to give us a sense of understanding of ourselves and the world around us, we turn to art, because it is in these fleeting moments of artistic appreciation and induced reflection that we get a brief calmness that allows us to feel like there is a purpose to it all. This is possibly incorrect and an inspired lie but it’s soothing nonetheless.

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

Now this definitely confuses me. The two statements don’t seem to be related in any way. There is documentation that exists that argues the former and the latter definitely feels like it could be true but combined? What does it all mean? Also, anti-Reagan graffiti seems to be a little redundant in 2017 considering a) he’s dead b) has not been in power since the 80s. Hmmm…anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

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

You can’t really go wrong with a giant metal stiletto. I love outsized objects. Always have. I’m just don’t know what it means…what is this sculpture trying to say? That life has a point? There are bigger things than us? Is it a symbol of the oppression of women and their subsequent fight for dominance in the gender wars? Could the artist just like over-sized items like me? The big question is does it require meaning at all?  Can art be art without meaning? If it can’t, what is it? Someone once said (have a great head for quotes but never remember who said them): “I don’t know what it is so it must be art”. Maybe the sheer fact that I am trying to work it out means that its purpose has been fulfilled. Maybe you yourself are now questioning whether a photograph of a piece of art even registers on the artistic spectrum at all and who am I to dissect someone else’s work? Like this giant shoe, you might just have a point…