Last time I wrote on here we were heading full throttle into all that summer promises, and it scrubbed up good, my friend. I spent my days with my family here, fitting in work and friends and a whole bunch of good stuff as the days lengthened, yawning, stifling, dusty and hot. If you follow my instagram you will l know I indulged my passion for swimming in rivers, lakes and the sea; diving under turquoise crystal waters in Spain with little fish, urchins and octopus. I headed deep into dark and shadowy forests, and high up mountains, gasping in the thin air, but relishing the pay-off views. I hung around a lot of horses, got new cameras, and holed up in the darkroom. We visited exhibitions, flânned (I say that’s a word) cities and towns, picnicked our socks off. I had a portfolio review, an exhibition and a sprained wrist. I came this close →← to participating in a workshop at Rencontres d’Arles, but at the last minute they informed me it was digital only. Shudder.
Now a new season, one of mists and mellow fruitfulness as *Mr Kipling or someone or other once said. So while I try to hit my blogging stride again as we move into Autumn, I’ll leave it to the photographs for now:
*Calm down, I’m not a complete philistine. I know it was Keats but Mr Kipling is a purveyor of exceedingly good cakes