Two Days of Photographs, and a Christmas.

I'm sure there's a song somewhere in that title.

Quote of the day:  'Burning bridges is never pleasant, but sometimes necessary.' - I just made it up, but it sounds authentic, right?

Scroll down for photo's of cats.


Anyway.  Hello internet.

Christmas passed (thankfully) uneventfully, with my present buying ineptitude forgotten quicker than is usual; which is nice.  Christmas was celebrated by my not sleeping particularly well on the eve; and then foregoing any sleep whatsoever on the actual night.  This was unfortunate because one half of the family were visiting on the boxing day.  In essence I went three days on a few hours sleep; with a little alcohol and a lot of painkillers.  If anyone saw the christmas day QI, I was something  akin to their 'forgotten Osmond brother impersonation.  With all kinds of lurching and inane, unintelligible ramblings.

If you didn't see that particular episode, then I was basically Doctor Frankensteins creation; only less coherent, and somewhat more uncoordinated.

No more messing around; let's get straight to the good stuff, what christmas is really about.  This year I got a number of interesting books, and tickets to watch Harlequins play in 'the big game,' (TM).  Pictures of the game to follow; and what a corker it was.

I've read one of the books, about photography, and it was quite an interesting read (if you're into that kind of thing).

Instead of being a technical manual on creating a picture, in terms of apertures, shutter speeds and white balances, (this being specifically about digi-cams) it focuses upon the grey, non-concrete art of photography.  The art of framing a picture.

The author is (quite possibly) not comfortable with the written word, despite writing a number of other books, evidenced by the number of spelling errors and grammatical inconsistencies that make certain passages somewhat difficult to understand.  Either that, or he is a non-native English speaker.

His emphasis is also interesting, because he gives certain rules that he utilises himself, in a given situation; using mathematical and painting rules, among others, in order to give a scientific flavour to his ideas.  He goes to great lengths to explain how to employ these 'rules,' and to a reasonable extent explains why they work.  This is rather interesting, and I find myself employing some of these rules naturally.  Most are not ground-breaking, and I suspect many people subconsciously employ them anyway.  Knowing why you act in a certain way in a given situation, or knowing that you even do is, however, invaluable - knowing these things will allow you to create a successful frame more frequently, and even abscond from given rules, when the situation is favourable; in order to create something fresh.

At every juncture we are reminded that these rules are, in fact, not rules at all; and that sticking to them rigidly is detrimental to the end product.  A nice caveat, I think you'll agree, should anyone question his ideas.  'Well, it works for me, but might not work for everyone.'  Isn't that the tag-line to most hair-recovering products and self-help manuals?

I received another on global warming, that shall be read when the fancy takes me.
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Quins/Wasps, then, was a fantastic game.  I thoroughly enjoy going to Twickenham, in whatever form that should take.  The crowd was entirely different to that which frequents international matches, but that is to be expected.  An international match is about rugby.  A club match is purely entertainment, and there is not better stage than the home of rugby.

Twickenham is by no means a large international stadium; but the scale of these things (even the smaller ones) boggles my mind.

The volume of concrete that went into the structure is dwarfed only by the amount of beer that is consumed on any given occasion.

I can't figure out whether I had the camera held at a funny angle, or whether the stadium  actually leans out like that.

Someone should really tell the architects about this.

Walking into the stadium is quite surreal.

Going from a relatively tight corridor, bristling with other game-goers, into a colossal bowl.  It's one of the things I look forward to.

The stadium fills up about ten minutes before kick-off.  Up to that point, it sits primarily empty, full of a lot of cold air, and nowhere for it to go.  (It was quite cold, yes)

Seventy thousand people congregate within that ten minute period, from their tremendous drinking outside.  It's amazing to see how quickly everything happens.

The cheerleaders and an abba tribute band.  I think they were abba anyway.


I include this only to show how empty the stadium still is at this point.

Clear sky in the evening, shepherds are leaving.

*Note*  This rhyme may not foretell weather conditions, as others containing shepherds claim to.

The Wasps warming up before 'The Big Game,' (TM).

It's always interesting watching them warm-up, because you'd inevitably do the same routines a few weeks after you see them in an environment like this.

Unlike Formula 1, where innovation takes decades to reach the road, it's only a matter of weeks in this world.

Nearly ready for kickoff.  Too excited to hold the camera steady.  Sorry.

Scantily clad lovelies: Check.

Floodlights:  Check.

Two Teams:  Check.

Blind Referee:  Check.

76,000 Supporters:  Check.

Forty thousand cubic feet of mustard gas:  Check.

COME ON YOU QUINS!














I'm not going to show you any pictures of the action, primarily because I have none. I was too busy concentrating on the game to be taking any of these here photomographs.

The final score:  21-20 to Wasps.  Quins were robbed in the measure of one tenth: Own carelessness to nine parts blind referee.  The final, game clinching try from Wasps came curtesy of an american football style blocking manoeuvre.  Disgraceful.

One bonus point will have to suffice.

Onto the Cat picture(s)!

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Firstly - Can someone please impose some kind of order.  This is more disorganised than parliament.

Moving on...

I borrowed (see:stole) my grandparents camera, and took pictures of anything and everything.

The people looked somewhat glum, (probably due to me photographically flashing them forty or fifty times) so I stalked the feline member of the household for a while.

I love this camera.

Why the long face?

'Well, there's this idiot see, and he's got this camera.'

What kind of colour is that?  Brown?

I don't know.

'And this idiot right, keeps putting stuff on me, with this camera right.'

(See:here)

I like this one.

After a hard days' shoot, all there is to do is sleep.

Considering all cats do is sleep anyway, there is no real indication of it being a hard day.


Anyway; that's enough for today.